Unity II: Shadows of the Night, Redux (Complete)

[Sonnenburg]

This is a sequel to Worlds Without End. While it is a standalone story, some aspects may be confusing without proper context.

Part I


The infinite bounds of space hung before Lieutenant Seven of Nine, at least in an abstract sense. It felt like a lifetime ago that she had stood here in Astrometrics, in this very spot, looking at the galaxy and trying to find something. And now, she looked up at it, and had no idea what she was searching for, but went through the motions. The door opened. "The party's still in full swing," Captain Janeway offered. "Tom's pulled out all the stops this time, and you have a little time before our rendezvous with the Enterprise." Seven pretended to ignore her, but three years had been long enough for Janeway to understand the body language. "Come with me, lieutenant," she ordered, and Seven grudgingly left her post.

"I don't enjoy being the center of attention," Seven said as they stepped into the hall.

"Well like it or not, Seven," Janeway said, "you were instrumental in destroying the greatest threat the galaxy has ever faced. You'd better get used to this."

The holodeck with crowded with people, drinking and laughing and listening to the pounding music. Tom Paris seemed to have used his mix tape, because Seven recognized Roxette's "Harleys And Indians" blaring, apparently with little regard for Commander Chakotay's sensibilities. When Paris spotted her he let out a cheer and started clapping, and the others joined in. Seven did her best to show her gratitude, and she was grateful; they had given up the real celebration to come looking for her. This was what it was like to have family... she was conflicted on this, as she was so often when it came to emotions. They remained a paradox.

Janeway gave Seven a drink; non-syntheholic, thankfully, in deference to her unique physiology. The band left the stage and another took its place, right on cue. "You going to take a moment to say goodbye to your new friend?" she asked.

Seven hesitated. "Yes. He is an amazing individual, and I would be fortunate to have one such as him for a friend."

Janeway nodded. "I think he likes you," she said eventually. Seven said nothing. "Just an observation."

"He is irrational," Seven said.

"I thought you just said he's an amazing individual?" Seven couldn't come up with a reply, and Janeway smirked a little. "I take it the feeling is mutual."

"Captain," Chakotay said as he stepped up. "Care to dance?"

"You can dance to this?"

"Theoretically, yes," he said with a smile. The two went off, and Seven stood where she was, surrounded on all sides by people who had made a personal sacrifice for her well-being. She held her drink and spoke to no one while the music played on.

"You said - oh girl, it's a cold world, when you keep it all to yourself. I said you can't hide on the inside, all the pain you've ever felt. Ransom my heart, but baby don't look back, 'cause we've got nobody else.
We're runnin' with the shadows of the night.
So baby take my hand, it'll be all right.
Surrender all your dreams to me tonight.
They'll come true in the end."

Seven's comm badge went off. "Lieutenant," the report said, "the Enterprise is here."

"Acknowledged," she said, and quietly slipped out of the room. She walked double time to the turbolift and took it down to Sickbay, then said her goodbye to the Doctor. "How is the commander?" she finally asked.

The Doctor seemed uncertain. "Whatever the Emperor did to him, it's caused quite a bit of damage to his nervous system, but I believe he'll make a full recovery. You can speak to him if you like."

Luke Skywalker jerked a little as she came up, then apologized. "The meds are playing havoc with my Jedi senses," he explained. "What's up?"

"I am returning to my duties on the Enterprise," Seven explained. "I wanted to wish you well before I departed." She extended a hand, and he shook it weakly.

"Thanks again for saving my life," he said. "I'll never forget you, Seven."

Seven opened her mouth to speak, but nothing would come out. One word. Just say one word and I'll tear off these pips right here and go anywhere in the universe with you because as much as I want to explore the galaxy understanding you is infinitely more appealing and maybe just maybe you can finish what Deanna started and teach me how to be a human being and I want to be with you more than anything but I'm too afraid so please please please say anything to stop me because I can't stop myself.

Seven tapped her comm badge. "Lt. of Nine to Enterprise," she said. "Energize."
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Colonel Taar walked into Grand Admiral Thrawn's office on board the Executor-class star destroyer Vendetta, the command ship for the admiral in his war against the Borg. Over four hundred ships make up his fleet, driving back the cyborgs time after time, and still unable to complete the Emperor's order for their total extermination Of course, the fact that the order came from the Emperor mattered little to Taar; if there were Borg to kill, he was the first in line, no matter what the circumstances. He hated them with a passion so strong few could truly understand. They destroyed you or they consumed you, and for those who faced them there was really no difference; they violated your body and usurped your mind. They were a cancer on the universe, and Taar felt no mercy for this race, this disease. He hoped that he would be there when the end came, when the last Borg was destroyed, and it was his secret fantasy to grab the tubes from its quivering body and yank them free with his own hands, to be the man to make the Borg extinct.

Unfortunately, the universe doesn't often cooperate with one's fantasies, and it was with the deepest regret that he had to deliver the news from the alpha quadrant. He had volunteered to deliver it to the admiral personally instead of through a lackey or an unemotional holo-message. Better face-to-face for something like this, he thought. He approached silently through the darkened room where Thrawn sat watching the spinning cube, the hovering sphere, and several other ships the Borg had created. About as close to art as the Borg get, Taar thought. "Admiral," he said quietly, "I'm afraid I have some grim news sir."

The chair turned around to face the younger man. Even when seated, Thrawn was intimidating. His blue skin, his glowing red eyes, both in stark contrast to his white Imperial uniform. He was the master strategist, the one who had beaten the Borg time after time. It was more than might, more than tactics; the man had a way of manipulating the situation -any situation- to his advantage. It had earned him the fierce loyalty of the men under his command, and Taar certainly counted himself among them. "Indeed?" Thrawn replied to Taar.

Taar could barely say it, it was all too... too unbelievable. "The Death Star, sir. It's been destroyed. Along with the Emperor and a fair portion of the alpha quadrant fleet."

Thrawn raised an eyebrow. "The Emperor is dead?"

Taar wet his lips. "Yes. And that's not all, sir. It appears that Lord Vader has defected. For the first time, sir, the Empire is without a recognized leader."

Thrawn smiled just slightly. "Very good, colonel. You see beyond the emotion of the situation and look to the consequences. Yes," he stood up out of his chair, "the Emperor may have been a visionary in some ways, but his views beyond his own death were clearly inadequate."

"Sir," Taar replied, "you are a strong leader, an effective commander, and a noble man. You, sir, have the power to hold the Empire together, to prevent the inevitable-"

"The inevitable collapse?" Thrawn stepped further into the darkness as he spoke. "One cannot, by definition, prevent the inevitable, colonel. Admirals, governors, moffs, and scores of others will struggle to grab hold of the reins of power. They will not hand authority over to me voluntarily, and our fleet is not enough to force them to change." He flicked on the communicator and watched the recorded scenes of the small revolt on Coruscant. There were rioters throughout the streets and walkways of the city-world, throwing stormtroopers about in their frenzy. A crowd had somehow pushed over the statue of the Emperor, sending it tumbling over the precipice to cause unknown damage below. Thrawn chuckled slightly at the sight.

"I fail to see the humor in this, sir," Taar said bitterly. Thrawn turned around suddenly and Taar expected to receive a reprimand for his remark. His next words caught him off guard.

"'I met a traveler from an antique land who said: Two vast and trunkless legs of stone stand in the desert... Near them, on the sand, half sunk, a shattered visage lies, whose frown, and wrinkled lip, and sneer of cold command, tell that its sculptor well those passions read which yet survive...'" Thrawn paused, allowing the words to echo slightly in the large room. "'Stamped on these lifeless things, the hand that mocked them, and the heart that fed: and on the pedestal these words appear:'" and Thrawn's voice rose to a shout. "'"My name is Ozymandias, king of kings: Look on my works, ye Mighty, and despair!"'" Immediately he returned to a more normal tone. "'Nothing beside remains. Round the decay of that colossal wreck, boundless and bare the lone and level sands stretch far away.'" Thrawn walked back to his chair, sitting down with not a sound, and turned it away from Taar. "Kings and empires rise and fall, colonel. Entropy consumes even the strongest man's efforts, both physical and political. One cannot hope to stop the hurricane, one can merely hope to weather it, to rebuild; and perhaps it will be something even better than what had come before."

Taar, uncertain of what to make of all this, quietly turned and walked out. It is for this reason that no one heard the words that followed.

"But perhaps that cycle can be broken."
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On a nameless world in the delta quadrant, two Hirogen hunters walked quietly through the underbrush. It had been an exhilarating hunt to say the least; the prey was small and unarmed, but was proving most elusive. Countless times they'd fired, only to find scorched foliage and emptiness instead of a trophy. Such challenging prey was a welcome diversion, and would bring them much acclaim; the respect of men and the affection of women. They pressed further into the underbrush-

And then the prey dropped from the trees. It was small, naked, unarmed. The Hirogen never really had a chance. A minute later, their corpses were pillaged for useful items, and the prey disappeared into the night.
--------------------------------------------------------------

Within a small and meager room a black shape brooded in darkness. With concentration, it was possible to pick out the hints of shape here and there, the odd reflection that can cause even ebony to shine. Time might suggest it was a lifeless statue, not to be feared... nothing could be further from the truth. This shape is not lifeless, nor a statue, and certainly something to be very fearful of. He moves like a glacier, slowly but with purpose; again a deception, for this man could move faster than the eye can detect if will moves him. But at the moment, it seemed his will was absent.

"I came to see how you were doing," Leia asked quietly. Only mechanical breathing answered her. "I'm sorry you have to be here like this."

The sound continued, but finally a voice came from the shadow man. "Your sorrow is unnecessary, child."

"It's not the Rebel Alliance father," Leia said quickly, trying to make him understand. "There are ill feelings of course, but you have joined our cause and brought us not just a military victory, but a political one. Your choice has moved many to openly support our cause." She trailed off. This wasn't what he needed to hear. "It's the Cardassians."

The breathing continued. "They want retribution for the destruction of their world."

"Yes," Leia replied.

"Then they've already received it. The Death Star is gone, as is the Emperor who fired it. They have received justice."

Leia nodded. It had been two months since the victory over the Emperor, a skin of their teeth win that had solidified a firm alliance against tyranny and oppression. Of course, nothing lasts forever. "They wish to try you for the destruction of their world," she said. "To establish your guilt or innocence in that affair."

Vader's breathing continued, the steady rhythm of the conversation. "Are you familiar with Cardassian trials?" he asked.

Leia hesitated. "No," she admitted. "Is it guilty 'till proven innocent?"

"No," Vader replied. "Just, guilty. There can be no other outcome."

Leia nodded. So that's why the Cardassians were willing to make so many concessions on the extradition of her father: they'd get what they wanted no matter what. "Then we will continue to fight the motion. We'll point out that extradition means a guilty verdict, and that you therefore must be found guilty prior to our agreement. And since you weren't involved-"

"Perhaps it is for the best," Vader interrupted.

Leia was shocked. "What are you talking about? They'll execute you."

"If that is how it is to end... then so be it." He was quiet for some time, and Leia could sense the struggle he was having. It was, troubling, but she had to allow him to work through it for the moment, and so waited as she listened to the hypnotic intake and exhalation that repeated itself time after time. "When I was a child," he said finally, "my whole life was devoted to escape from my slave life. When I was free, it was to become a Jedi Knight. When my training was completed it was to win the Clone Wars, and after my fall it was to destroy the Jedi. When that finally happened, it was to crush the rebellion." He was quiet for a long while after that, and Leia considered leaving when he spoke again. "For the first time in my life, I have no purpose. And I look at what has come before, and I wonder what the point of it all was. The acquisition of power, the destruction of my enemies... in the end, it is all meaningless."

Leia left her father, her heart aching out of sympathy for him. How funny life is, she thought, that she could spend her whole life hating that man, and in the end grow so fond of him.
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"Three months later, the Cardassians withdrew their petition for extradition, and they withdrew from the Alliance. Their society was fractured, and the raids began after that, a once proud people reduced to tribal barbarians."

"Yes, I remember," Selvik said.

"Vader was released. That was the name he took. Not Anakin Skywalker, not Darth Vader, just Vader... just a shadow of those men. And then he vanished. The rumors are everywhere, of course. Some think he took his own life out of guilt, others that the ghost of his master drove him mad, some think he just disappeared out of the universe altogether, since he had no place in it any more."

"How long have you searched for him?"

"A long time," Luke said. "There were other things that I probably should have been doing. I gave up my commission, I gave up-" He was quiet. "It probably didn't make any difference anyway," he said quietly.

"So has your search brought you here, Mr. Skywalker?"

"No," Luke said quietly with a shake of his head. "I find myself echoing the same sentiments my father had. I left all those things behind in my obsession, and now that I realize that I'm just wasting my life, I realize that there's nothing left in it any more." He looked up at the Vulcan priest. "I have the Force to guide me... but right now, I think I need something more."

Selvik nodded. "You wish to control your emotions."

"Yes," Luke admitted. "I'm afraid they've been controlling me."

"A very dangerous situation," Selvik said.

"Yes," Luke said, his voice dry. "Especially for a Jedi."
--------------------------------------------------------------

And more time passed, and the galaxies changed, and the people who shaped it changed in their own ways. The Empire fell, and the Republic reclaimed its place. The Federation built a new station near the Bajoran wormhole. The Cardassians became seven competing governments, the strongest under Gul Tulvek. A rebel princess married a former smuggler. A Borg officer was promoted for her role in saving the Federation. The former head of the Obsidian Order quietly murdered Ambassador Talva. An ex-captain became the Federation's ambassador to the Republic. An old Klingon died a straw death and left his house to his granddaughter. A card player resigned his Republic commission to seek his fortune elsewhere. A Romulan admiral found himself thrust into the political spotlight. A Jedi Knight learned the ways of the Vulcans.

But there remained a constant amidst the change, which in many ways could be considered an irony. The Borg endured their setbacks -for what else could they possibly be for a species so close to perfection- and continued on, adapting, but not truly changing. They still sought out biological and technological resources to add to their own diversity, and thus raise the quality of life for all species.

Today was different. For one of the few times in history, a ship sought them out, and a meeting unlike any in history took place. The galaxies would soon learn that what they thought of as revolution would seem like stagnation compared to the transformation to come.

[Spice Runner]

Very cool. I always liked that "They're called Star Destroyers..." intro you used in the original but this is awesome too.

[consequences]

This space for rent

[Prozac the Robert]

Bloody hell, you've turned into some sort of fanfiction juggernaut, crushing us all under sheer quantity of cool story.

I love Thrawn's speech there. The idea of him shouting out "My name is Ozymandias, king of kings: Look on my works, ye Mighty, and despair!" is absolutely brilliant.

[Sonnenburg]

You suck. You should never write anything. You should gouge out your eyes, cut off your hands, and have someone give you a lobotomy so that you can never inflict pain on the world again. I know what I'm talking about, because I'm a Starfleet captain. This post brought to you by the 91st day of the year

I fucking hate April 1st.....

[consequences]

I fucking hate April 1st.....

Sorry to hear that. If you want, I'll remove my previous attempt at humor and replace it with more of the usual fellatio that I try to provide.

Of course, coming from a Janeway avatar at the moment, that might be even worse. Your call.

[Sonnenburg]

Very cool. I always liked that "They're called Star Destroyers..." intro you used in the original but this is awesome too.

I flip-flopped on that about ten times. Many years ago, I read an article on Star Wars fiction that pointed out that the best of it almost inevitably started with a star destroyer, and it did make a valid point. However, the reasons become less and less important as Trek is introduced into the mix, so I've re-thought it a bit. Balancing it is that in my works I sometimes like bringing the story back around where it starts, but different, to show that there has been movement.

In the end what won out was the fact that the story was chronological. The first part occurs within hours of WWE, the next within a day, the next within a week, etcetera, until we've progressed years.

[Sonnenburg]

I fucking hate April 1st.....

Sorry to hear that. If you want, I'll remove my previous attempt at humor and replace it with more of the usual fellatio that I try to provide.

It's cool, I know you're joking and all. It's just a true statement though; I almost didn't post this today to avoid this kind of thing. But I really don't want my story hijacked into an April Fools Day debate, so I'd really appreciate it if we didn't do any more. Thanks in advance.

Of course, coming from a Janeway avatar at the moment, that might be even worse. Your call.

"Hey sailor... wanna penetrate the crack in my event horizon?"

[Sonnenburg]

Bloody hell, you've turned into some sort of fanfiction juggernaut, crushing us all under sheer quantity of cool story.

Thanks, I think?
This is kind of a mental spring cleaning. June 15 is going to be DOF 50, which marks seven years of fanfics. I'm planning to put the series to bed permanently at that point, so now I thought would be the time to tidy up everything that needs to be done. So, it's kind of getting my affairs in order before fanfic death, as it were.

I love Thrawn's speech there. The idea of him shouting out "My name is Ozymandias, king of kings: Look on my works, ye Mighty, and despair!" is absolutely brilliant.

Thanks!

[Star Empire]

Great to see this starting too. Was shocked to see it didn't start onboard a Stardestroyer, but not really dissapointed either. I like the way you moved through time in that 1st chapter.

[Crazedwraith]

Excellant and posted just as I finished the WWEr as well. The whole Jedi/Vulcan thing always appealed to me.

[starfury]

Wonderful, the sheer quantity of material you produced was diffcult to comprehend, and yet it was all so high quality, once you posted everything on your site, must rer-read from the beginning.

[ElPintoGrande]

So beautiful. I hope that there is more to come. You sir, are a master of your craft.

*requisitions more*

[Sonnenburg]

Thanks again for the feedback.

[Sonnenburg]

Part II


Picard stood at Mon Mothma's side, still in awe at the sight of Coruscant. He'd never visited the world before today, and even though he knew it was an entire city spread over the planet, the sight of it still amazed him. But for now, he remained focused as she took to the podium; a hush descending over the crowd. For those unable to fit into what had been until last week Imperial Square, her image was being flashed across the planet from pole to pole, and through the holonet to every civilization in the galaxy. If she was bothered by the thought of all those eyes focused on her, she didn't show it. She gave a speech, brief, patriotic, and to the point. The crowd was ecstatic, Picard noticed. It's a wonder the Emperor was ever able to control this world with the feelings of animosity that continued towards him even now, so long after his death. His mind wandered as he thought about the meetings he'd had with the man, his skin prickling at the mere thought of him. Pure evil, Picard thought. If the man had a redeeming quality, Picard couldn't imagine it. He was suddenly jerked back to the present when he heard his name mentioned, and he got up and stepped to the podium.

"Thank you," he said to Mon Mothma. "The Federation joins you in celebration of your achievement. It is difficult to imagine how different things are now compared to when our two sides met. The Republic was a government in exile, and the Federation the unwitting puppets of the Empire. Who could have thought that after a mere three years we would have toppled that regime, and stand here in a galaxy that again knows freedom. The Emperor's corrupt ideals, like the man himself, have now perished, and I have no doubt they will remain a minor blemish in the glorious history of this ancient and enlightened civilization."

The crowd cheered, but somehow through it, a single voice penetrated. Gradually the crowd became silent as the man continued speaking. The man was right up front, and the news agencies were focused on him. He wasn’t used to public speaking under these circumstances, so he reacted instinctively, which was to address the challenger, but even as he spoke he realized his mistake. "I'm sorry," Picard said, "I didn't hear what you said."

"I said you're wrong, ambassador," the man called up to him. "The Emperor is not dead! He is alive and will destroy all who oppose him!"

He could just ignore him, but Picard thought it would be best to lay this to rest. "I assure you, the man is quite dead."

"You lie!" the man screamed. "His body was never found!"

"His body was never found because the Death Star disintegrated it," Picard replied. "I was there, I saw him die."

"So you claim. But the Emperor has powers far beyond your imagination Terran!"

"That may be," Picard replied. "If what you say is true, then collect your evidence and submit it to the authorities. Let the galaxy know the truth. But until that time-" Picard never had the chance to finish. Things seemed to quickly grow hostile, security forces started moving in to calm it. A shot rang out, and the protestor fell over, a blaster mark on his chest.
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"Greetings," Quark said to the gentleman who stepped into his bar. "Welcome to Quark's, jewel of Deep Space 13."

The gentleman nodded and took a seat. "You've set things up awfully quick. Most of the other shops are still getting ready to open." Deep Space 13 had only been opened for service a week ago, occupying the position near the Bajoran wormhole that had previously been the home of Deep Space 9. Before the Empire came, that is.

"My bar was destroyed along with Deep Space 9," Quark remarked as he poured the man a drink. "But it was fully insured, with a special rider on destruction by the Federation."

The stranger looked puzzled, "But, I thought the Empire had destroyed the station."

"Yes, it did," Quark said, stacking some glasses. "But it happened to be destroyed during a Federation attack while the Empire was their ally, so technically, it was destroyed by the Federation."

"I'm not sure the Federation likes the thought of that."

"Probably not," Quark remarked. He showed how much that mattered to him.

The last of the glass' contents vanished. "So you made a pretty penny on that destruction."

Quark turned back, typical Ferengi grin in place. "Yes indeed. This is actually twice the size of my last bar."

The stranger reached into his pocket. "Speaking of bars, can you make change for the drink, I don't have anything small." He was pulling a bar of gold-pressed latinum out of his pocket when his hand slipped, causing nine more to fall out. Quark eyed the money in typical Ferengi fashion.

"No problem," the bartender remarked. While he made change, he tried to speak nonchalantly. "Are you interested in anything besides refreshment? Perhaps some entertainment?" He indicated the gambling area located nearby. The gentleman turned and looked.

"Games of chance?" he said, slightly puzzled.

"Just a little friendly game, all in fun," Quark remarked. "You might actually be interested in this new game imported from the distant galaxy of the Republic: sah-bahck."

The stranger looked at the table, clearly unsure. "I don't know, is this a difficult game to learn?"

"Not at all," Quark remarked. "It's an ancient and wondrous game played by the nobility of the Republic. It is said that in times gone past, disputing warlords would solve their problems by coming together and enjoying a game. Come on, give it a whirl." He made a gesture of happiness as the man finally walked towards the table. "That's the spirit. Would you care for another drink, mister... ?"

The man sat down. "Calrissian. Lando Calrissian. And yes, a drink would be fine."
--------------------------------------------------------------

Picard was in his office when Mon Mothma arrived. He got up quickly; she didn't pay personal visits every day. "Madame Chancellor," he said in a friendly tone.

"Mr. Picard," she said in the same tone. He offered a chair and she took it. “On behalf of the Republic, I'd like to apologize for the disturbance this morning."

"It was hardly within your control," Picard said as he sat down. "People have unpopular, even ludicrous, opinions sometimes. We certainly won't hold you accountable for them."

"Thank you." Mon Mothma folded her hands. "The man who was killed was named Elhid Whar. He was on a New Republic security watch list, but somehow managed to slip through into the square. We're fortunate that he didn't try more than just interrupting your speech."

"I assume he's an Imperial sympathizer?"

"That's putting it mildly," Mon Mothma said. "We've discovered the emergence of a group referred to as the Cult of the Emperor."

"Oh God," Picard said, covering his face and rubbing his temples. "It seems every time reality cannot get more ridiculous, someone volunteers to prove me wrong."

"Ridiculous, perhaps, but dangerous nevertheless." Mon Mothma picked up the satchel she'd brought with her. "His lodgings were searched this afternoon; no real evidence to lead us further, except for one thing. Some alien technology." She pulled it out, and Picard gaped. "I take it by your expression that my guess was correct."

Picard stared at it. "It's Borg," he said. He finally tore his eyes away from it and looked at Mon Mothma, horror on his face. "What the devil is an Imperial fanatic doing with Borg technology?"

"I was hoping you could tell me," Mon Mothma said. "You are an expert, after all."

Picard shook his head. "I know more than I like," he said. "But I'm completely stumped." He thought. "But, then, I do happen to know the greatest expert on the Borg we know of."
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The turbolift doors opened, and Lt. Commander Seven of Nine walked up the hall to Science Room 2. The door opened, revealing Commander Geordi Laforge, first officer of the USS Enterprise. "Morning, commander," he said, not looking away from his graphs.

Seven held out a PADD. "My annual personnel report on the Science department."

"Ah, your usual light reading, I assume," Laforge said, taking the PADD and setting it down. "I don't suppose you want to give me it in fifty words or less."

"If that is what you desire. They continue to fall short of perfection."

"That covers a lot of ground, commander," Laforge said.

"Indeed, which is why I provided a detailed report."

Laforge hung his head. "Okay, point taken." He took up the PADD. "While I'm looking this over, wanna give me your opinion on this?"

Seven took a seat and looked at it. "The Death Star explosion. I thought the Daystrom Institute completed their analysis two years ago."

"They did. I decided to look it over anyway."

"You have reason to believe they missed something?"

"No reason, I just thought I'd look it over and reach my own conclusions."

"A waste of time," Seven said. "The institute gave all information a thorough examination."

Laforge chuckled a little. "Don't you have any hobbies?"

"No. It would only interfere in my work."

"Seven, there's more to life than work."

"Then I suppose it would be more accurate to say that I find work and hobbies to be one and the same. Both are how I occupy my time. The difference is that I use it to proceed towards my own perfection."

"Proceed... meaning you fall short as well."

"Yes. I have detailed my shortcomings in my report."

Laforge tried very hard not to laugh. "Then I suppose I can't fault you for holding people to unreasonable standards. Look if you think it's a waste of time-"

"I will assist you," Seven said matter-of-factly. "Captain Riker has suggested that I work on my social skills; I have listed that among my failings on page three."

"Yes, so I see. Anyway, there's this energy reading that's been bothering me for a while."

Seven examined it carefully. "This information was not in the Daystrom report."

Laforge's head jerked up from the PADD. "You're serious?" Then he remembered who he was talking to. "Right, of course you are. Looks like this wasn't such a waste of time after all."

Seven tapped some controls and looked over the information. "It is a transporter beam."

"No, I thought that at first too, but take a look at the gravitational topography chart. It's causing a noticeable distortion in the space-time continuum."

Seven continued hitting panels, until the screen was filled with another chart, a flat graph with contour lines around it. "I've seen that before," Laforge commented. "It looks like a sensor map of hyperspace."

"Yes," Seven replied, and a green line appeared on the screen, "and this is a transporter signature."

Laforge stared at the line in disbelief. "Wait a minute. You're saying someone sent a transporter through hyperspace? That's impossible, you're misreading the data."

"The pattern matches the signal characteristics of a transporter," Seven replied. "And while it may seem unlikely, it is a distinct possibility."

"What, you mean that someone transported themselves off the Death Star before its destruction?"

"I am unwilling to speculate that far," Seven replied. "Nevertheless, this signal appears to be a transporter beam."

Laforge leaned back, resting his hand on his chin absent-mindedly as he thought. "If you're right, who could've known about it to use it?"

"Clearly someone with authority-" Seven began, but was cut off when the door opened. An ensign walked in and presented her a PADD. She looked at it, and her brow furrowed.

"What's up?" Laforge asked.

"It's a message from the captain-" Seven cut herself. "I mean, from Mr. Picard. They've found Borg technology in the possession of some madman."

"That's a scary thought," Laforge commented.

Seven stared at the PADD. "Yes," she said distantly, "very."
--------------------------------------------------------------

Col. Kira Nerys strolled around the new promenade of Deep Space 13, trying to familiarize herself as best she could with her new home. Totally different place, she thought; Federation design, as opposed to Cardassian, meant a thousand details that she'd have to get used to. A fresh start for a new station, and for herself. It had taken a while, a long while actually, to get over the hate. She thought she'd beaten it for a time, and then she'd learned the truth about the attack, that it wasn't the Cardassians after all, but the Empire that had destroyed her home.

That hate had been difficult too. The Empire destroyed the station, and it wasn't even out of survival or tactics, but to further a political agenda. The thought had enraged her for a very long time. One time, in a fit of near insanity, she'd tried removing her right arm, the arm the Imperials had given her. Of course, she didn't, and she still had it to this day. In the end, it had actually been a part of the healing; Vedic Heral had told her that, like the loss of the station, it was something she had to accept now, and anger wouldn't change reality to accommodate her. Not to say that she didn't hate the Empire, but rather she'd learned that it should be she controlling her anger instead of the other way around.

Quark's. Now that had been a surprise. Trust that little Ferengi to set up shop and be running his whole enterprise like nothing had happened. Now there was a fellow who didn't dwell on the past. And considering his insurance settlement, he's probably grateful to the Empire, but then, he turned out pretty lucky in the end. She'd thought he'd died on DS9 with Rom and everyone else, but apparently he'd slipped away on business after his run-in with the bounty hunter. It figured; all the good people lost and the slimy Ferengi is the one lucky enough to survive. She strolled through the entrance to look at the new bar when a man stepped up to greet her.

"Greetings, I'm Lando Calrissian, the administrator of this establishment." Behind him, Quark snarled and went back to work.

"Excuse me?" Kira asked, clearly unsure of what was going on.

"Would you care for some refreshment?" Lando asked, his charm dazzling.

"Quark, what's going on?"

The Ferengi, his back turned as he was mixing drinks, straightened and sighed deeply, then turned around. "I'd like to report a crime," he said. "I've been swindled out of my rightful property by a confidence man."

"Quark," Lando said shaking his head, "you are such a sore loser."

"What's going on?" Kira asked a second time.

"He cheated and stole my bar away from me!"

"Hey, it's not my fault you decided to throw half the bar's shares into the pot. You could've quit while you were only down fifty bars."

Kira couldn't believe it. "You... you lost control of the bar in a game of cards?!"

"Sabacc," Lando said. "An ancient and wondrous game-"

"Shut up!" Quark replied, and returned to mixing drinks.

Kira tried not to laugh at the Ferengi's misfortune. "Well, Mr. Calrissian, I hope you enjoy your time on Deep Space 13. I'm Col. Kira, the administrator of this facility."

Lando smiled, and Kira melted a little at the man's voice. "A pleasure to meet you colonel. I'm certain I'll find this station most agreeable."
--------------------------------------------------------------

Picard walked into his home, heard the door close, and then nearly had a heart attack. "Greetings ambassador."

After the shock wore off his surprise turned to anger. "Thrawn," he said, laying eyes on the Imperial lounging on his sofa. "What the hell are you doing here?"

"My apologies, ambassador," Admiral Thrawn remarked. "I hated having to intrude into your home like this, but I needed to speak with you urgently, and obviously official channels were out of the question."

"Considering that a state of war exists between the Empire and the Republic, our allies, then I'd say you're quite right. You'll also understand why I'm calling security."

"Picard," Thrawn said anxiously, "Please listen. Do you think I would make myself so vulnerable if it were not a matter of the utmost urgency?"

"I'm not interested," Picard replied.

"You should be," Thrawn replied quickly. "Think, Picard. This is why I came to you, I know that you're a rational man."

Picard turned to face Thrawn, his contempt unrestrained. "You're hoping to deceive me again, as you did so many times before."

"What deceptions?" Thrawn asked, holding his hands out to reveal they were empty. "That we were going to fight the Borg? That we wanted to be your allies? Picard, I may be an Admiral, but I don't dictate Imperial policy." He leaned forward. "Why do you think the Emperor shunted me off to the backwaters of your galaxy to fight the Borg? Because he knew I opposed his plans."

"If you were so opposed, why didn't you take action?" Picard asked, refusing to accept this attempt to placate him.

Thrawn sighed. "My country, right or wrong. How many Federation officers remained loyal even after so many others had defected?"

"That's hardly the same thing."

"Of course it is," Thrawn said. "But that's not important. What I need to discuss with you is." He gestured towards a chair. "Please, ambassador. Just a few minutes of your time. After all, I did retrieve your officers from the Tsunkatse for you. Haven't I earned at least a hearing out?"

Picard ground his teeth, but Thrawn did have a point; he did save Seven and Travis' life. "Fine," he said, taking a seat. "But this had better not be a waste of my time."

Thrawn nodded. "Believe me, I think you'll be very interested in what I have to say."

[Ghost Rider]

A two new parts of an oldie redone. I still love Quark being outdone by Lando.

Good stuff.

[Crazedwraith]

I think Quark's 'survival' in this version of events is alot more dubious but still the Lando moment is still classic. And Quark doesn't get enough scenes come DoF era.

[JLTucker]

Just say one word and I'll tear off these pips right here and go anywhere in the universe with you because as much as I want to explore the galaxy understanding you is infinitely more appealing and maybe just maybe you can finish what Deanna started and teach me how to be a human being and I want to be with you more than anything but I'm too afraid so please please please say anything to stop me because I can't stop myself.

I loved your story, but this passage bothered me. This is one lengthy runon sentence. Other than that, great work! Keep it up.

[Chris OFarrell]

Just say one word and I'll tear off these pips right here and go anywhere in the universe with you because as much as I want to explore the galaxy understanding you is infinitely more appealing and maybe just maybe you can finish what Deanna started and teach me how to be a human being and I want to be with you more than anything but I'm too afraid so please please please say anything to stop me because I can't stop myself.

I loved your story, but this passage bothered me. This is one lengthy runon sentence. Other than that, great work! Keep it up.

I actualy think it works really well, it shows Seven completly unlike Seven, just silently pleeding in machine gun style while maintaining her usual exterior...

[CERC]

How much of this chapter did you add? I don't really remember alot of it.....

CERC

PS: and as always, well done

[Dalton]

Just say one word and I'll tear off these pips right here and go anywhere in the universe with you because as much as I want to explore the galaxy understanding you is infinitely more appealing and maybe just maybe you can finish what Deanna started and teach me how to be a human being and I want to be with you more than anything but I'm too afraid so please please please say anything to stop me because I can't stop myself.

I loved your story, but this passage bothered me. This is one lengthy runon sentence. Other than that, great work! Keep it up.

I have to agree with Chris. What we're seeing here is Seven's internal monologue in a sort of stream-of-consciousness format. Personally I think it adds a whole level of depth to Seven's character.

[consequences]

Just say one word and I'll tear off these pips right here and go anywhere in the universe with you because as much as I want to explore the galaxy understanding you is infinitely more appealing and maybe just maybe you can finish what Deanna started and teach me how to be a human being and I want to be with you more than anything but I'm too afraid so please please please say anything to stop me because I can't stop myself.

I loved your story, but this passage bothered me. This is one lengthy runon sentence. Other than that, great work! Keep it up.

Not to be just a me-too-er, but that's really one of the passages that really sold this chapter for me.

[Sonnenburg]

A two new parts of an oldie redone. I still love Quark being outdone by Lando.

Good stuff.

I think Quark's 'survival' in this version of events is alot more dubious but still the Lando moment is still classic. And Quark doesn't get enough scenes come DoF era.

The Quark-Lando relationship is one of the stranger ones for this series; it sure is a lot of fun going back and seeing its early days.

[Sonnenburg]

I loved your story, but this passage bothered me. This is one lengthy runon sentence. Other than that, great work! Keep it up.

I actualy think it works really well, it shows Seven completly unlike Seven, just silently pleeding in machine gun style while maintaining her usual exterior...

I have to agree with Chris. What we're seeing here is Seven's internal monologue in a sort of stream-of-consciousness format. Personally I think it adds a whole level of depth to Seven's character.

Not to be just a me-too-er, but that's really one of the passages that really sold this chapter for me.

To kind of address all these together (and thanks, btw, for everyone's kind words): from an English perspective, it is improperly written. However, one of the things you learn in writing is that you need to know the rules well so that you know when you should break them.

This scene is primarily centered around this bit, because it offers a peak at what is going on inside Seven's head and tries to explain why the person who had come as close as she had to Luke on the Death Star now walks away without looking back. You can contrast it, in fact, when Seven passes the second test on the Death Star by refusing to abandon Luke: in that case, she knows that walking away is the end, that she'll never have a chance, giving her the emotional courage to do what she has to; here, however, there is no outside power forcing her to make a choice, she has to do it solely based on her own emotional strength... and as we see, she doesn't have it. And that's why she becomes so pleadingly desperate in her mind: she needs Luke to give her another push, because she knows she can't push herself... but he can't sense that she needs it, and she feels these things pushing and pulling at the same time, and they're frightening, and she doesn't want to embarrass herself, and it all just kind of rolls up into a big ball of emotion until she chooses to do the opposite of what she did before... and leave him behind.

[Sonnenburg]

How much of this chapter did you add? I don't really remember alot of it.....

CERC

PS: and as always, well done

Thank you. In chapter 2, there was actually only one new scene, the one with Mon Mothma and Picard in his office. There were some changes to the others that may make them seem new; the first part had a lot of the fat trimmed off, the Geordi-Seven scene was moved and substantially redone, and the Thrawn scene is one that has been chopped in half.