I'm formulating a new attack stradegy to extract faster chapter creation from you.JME2 wrote:Been over a week and it's quiet -- too quiet... Is the Borg Collective offline for repairs?
Star Trek/Star Wars: The Best of Both Worlds
Moderator: LadyTevar
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Robert Walper
- Dishonest Resident Borg Fan-Whore
- Posts: 4206
- Joined: 2002-08-08 03:56am
- Location: Calgary, Alberta, Canada
But I was the one who mentioned it! Bwa ha ha.Robert Walper wrote:What the hell? You mean we get points for mentioning that stuff? I noticed too! :S
Burninator: 1
Insane borg fan: 0
"I want to mow down a bunch of motherfuckers with absurdly large weapons and relative impunity - preferably in and around a skyscraper. Then I want to fight a grim battle against the unlikely duo of the Terminator and Robocop. The last level should involve (but not be limited to) multiple robo-Hitlers and a gorillasaurus rex."--Uraniun235 on his ideal FPS game
"The ability to destroy a planet is insignificant compared to the power of the Force."--Darth Vader
"The ability to destroy a planet is insignificant compared to the power of the Force."--Darth Vader
Sorry Rob; Trog wins this round.Trogdor wrote:But I was the one who mentioned it! Bwa ha ha.Robert Walper wrote:What the hell? You mean we get points for mentioning that stuff? I noticed too! :S
Burninator: 1
Insane borg fan: 0
Anyway, to be serious a moment, I'm aiming for an update this weekend for BOBW (and Yesterdays and Tomorows). Thanks for your continued patience as always, my friends.
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DarkSilver
- Jedi Council Member
- Posts: 1606
- Joined: 2004-10-28 08:54am
- Location: Librium Arcana
- Contact:
and here I thought it was a update.....
Tell ya what JME2...if you post a update for BOBW by this weekend, I'll give you a energon goodie...
Tell ya what JME2...if you post a update for BOBW by this weekend, I'll give you a energon goodie...
XBL: Darek Silver | Wii Friend: 5602 6414 0598 0225
LibriumArcana - Roleplaying, Fiction, Irreverence
Trekker (TOS, TNG/DS9-Era) | Warsie (semi-movie purist) | B5'er | TransFan
Cult of Vin Diesel: While it is well known that James Earl Jones performed the voice of Darth Vader, it is less appreciated that Vin Diesel performs the voice of James Earl Jones.
LibriumArcana - Roleplaying, Fiction, Irreverence
Trekker (TOS, TNG/DS9-Era) | Warsie (semi-movie purist) | B5'er | TransFan
Cult of Vin Diesel: While it is well known that James Earl Jones performed the voice of Darth Vader, it is less appreciated that Vin Diesel performs the voice of James Earl Jones.
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Robert Walper
- Dishonest Resident Borg Fan-Whore
- Posts: 4206
- Joined: 2002-08-08 03:56am
- Location: Calgary, Alberta, Canada
Alright, to be serious for a moment, I need to bring up a problem that's been on my mind recently regarding the story.
I confess that when this story first began, I had taken a Berman/Braga approach and had no idea where I was going with it back in 2001. But when I came back in 2003 and began revamping it, I had a few ideas in my head, ideas that I spent much of December and January outlining and plotting.
The simple fact of the matter is that I'm afraid there may not be enough material to fill Act II in order to set up Act III. Therefore, I'm considering dropping my recent plans of a three-act story and instead have it as one on-going work as it was in the beginning.
This doesn't mean I'm going to stop writing, but I'm simply trying to iron out these problems and this is a possible solution.
I confess that when this story first began, I had taken a Berman/Braga approach and had no idea where I was going with it back in 2001. But when I came back in 2003 and began revamping it, I had a few ideas in my head, ideas that I spent much of December and January outlining and plotting.
The simple fact of the matter is that I'm afraid there may not be enough material to fill Act II in order to set up Act III. Therefore, I'm considering dropping my recent plans of a three-act story and instead have it as one on-going work as it was in the beginning.
This doesn't mean I'm going to stop writing, but I'm simply trying to iron out these problems and this is a possible solution.
Oh please, the Borg would be burninated along with the countryside, the assimilated peasants, and their thatched roofed cubes. Maybe you're just jealous of Trogdor's new movie deal.Robert Walper wrote:Unfortunately for Trog, assimilation sucks. Your assets become, by definition, ours. So his wins, in the end, will become mine.JME2 wrote: Sorry Rob; Trog wins this round.
DPDarkPrimus is my boyfriend!
SDNW4 Nation: The Refuge And, on Nova Terra, Al-Stan the Totally and Completely Honest and Legitimate Weapons Dealer and Used Starship Salesman slept on a bed made of money, with a blaster under his pillow and his sombrero pulled over his face. This is to say, he slept very well indeed.
SDNW4 Nation: The Refuge And, on Nova Terra, Al-Stan the Totally and Completely Honest and Legitimate Weapons Dealer and Used Starship Salesman slept on a bed made of money, with a blaster under his pillow and his sombrero pulled over his face. This is to say, he slept very well indeed.
Yes! As the rot of Star Trek completes, Trogdor is rising into his full glory. By the time I finish burninating that peasant, Paramount will be desperate enough to sell the Borg to Homestarrunner to become my new bitches!
"I want to mow down a bunch of motherfuckers with absurdly large weapons and relative impunity - preferably in and around a skyscraper. Then I want to fight a grim battle against the unlikely duo of the Terminator and Robocop. The last level should involve (but not be limited to) multiple robo-Hitlers and a gorillasaurus rex."--Uraniun235 on his ideal FPS game
"The ability to destroy a planet is insignificant compared to the power of the Force."--Darth Vader
"The ability to destroy a planet is insignificant compared to the power of the Force."--Darth Vader
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Crazedwraith
- Emperor's Hand
- Posts: 11924
- Joined: 2003-04-10 03:45pm
- Location: Cheshire, England
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Kartr_Kana
- Jedi Knight
- Posts: 879
- Joined: 2004-11-02 02:50pm
- Location: College
Just write the next chapter!!!! I have this problem with all the fanfics I have read, somebody takes to long to write the next chapter so by the time I get back there are 4-5 I have to read. Hey is Fett in this story, you know he is bringing back the Mandalorians, maybe they could come and kick some Borg A$$!!! 
Since they hunt Yuuhzan-Vong for fun.
Since they hunt Yuuhzan-Vong for fun.Some of us have lives, you know...Kartr_Kana wrote:Just write the next chapter!!!! I have this problem with all the fanfics I have read, somebody takes to long to write the next chapter so by the time I get back there are 4-5 I have to read. Hey is Fett in this story, you know he is bringing back the Mandalorians, maybe they could come and kick some Borg A$$!!!
Edit -- That having been said, I tried to get it done over the weekend, but my schedule, a day trip with old family friends, and musings of a brief followup to JLU's The Doomsday Sanction blew that out of the water. I'll more than likely have the next chapter up this weekend. Thanks as always guys!
We do?JME2 wrote:Some of us have lives, you know...
...
Uh, I mean, of course we do!
"I want to mow down a bunch of motherfuckers with absurdly large weapons and relative impunity - preferably in and around a skyscraper. Then I want to fight a grim battle against the unlikely duo of the Terminator and Robocop. The last level should involve (but not be limited to) multiple robo-Hitlers and a gorillasaurus rex."--Uraniun235 on his ideal FPS game
"The ability to destroy a planet is insignificant compared to the power of the Force."--Darth Vader
"The ability to destroy a planet is insignificant compared to the power of the Force."--Darth Vader
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DarkSilver
- Jedi Council Member
- Posts: 1606
- Joined: 2004-10-28 08:54am
- Location: Librium Arcana
- Contact:
bah weep granna weep ninie bon!
-throws energon goodies at JME2-
and there's more where that comes from....if you manage to post it this weekend...
-throws energon goodies at JME2-
and there's more where that comes from....if you manage to post it this weekend...
XBL: Darek Silver | Wii Friend: 5602 6414 0598 0225
LibriumArcana - Roleplaying, Fiction, Irreverence
Trekker (TOS, TNG/DS9-Era) | Warsie (semi-movie purist) | B5'er | TransFan
Cult of Vin Diesel: While it is well known that James Earl Jones performed the voice of Darth Vader, it is less appreciated that Vin Diesel performs the voice of James Earl Jones.
LibriumArcana - Roleplaying, Fiction, Irreverence
Trekker (TOS, TNG/DS9-Era) | Warsie (semi-movie purist) | B5'er | TransFan
Cult of Vin Diesel: While it is well known that James Earl Jones performed the voice of Darth Vader, it is less appreciated that Vin Diesel performs the voice of James Earl Jones.
Disclaimer: Star Trek created by Gene Roddenberry and owned by Paramount Pictures. Stat Wars created by George Lucas and owned by Twentieth Century Fox and Lucasfilm. I own the story and any original characters/species. No copyright infringement is intended.
Star Trek/Star Wars: The Best of Both Worlds -- Act II, Part IV
“Next to knowing when to seize an opportunity, the next important thing is to know when to forgo an advantage.”
-- Benjamin Disraeli --
Author’s Note: This chapter contains potential spoilers for Star Wars: Episode III -- Revenge of the Sith. Other than that, as always enjoy!
***
Location: Tipoca City
Kamino, The Galaxy Far, Far Away
Banu Le sat in rapt silence, his long hand resting beneath his chin, his own hot drink long forgotten as Shinzon completed the telling of his tale to the Kaminoan administrator. Naturally, Shinzon had left out crucial details, specifically the capabilities of the Scimitar and their role in the second Battle for Sector 001 and had instead focused on the plight of the Remans and their one and only chance to end Romulan oppression forever.
At last, Banu Le spoke.
“A fascinating and intriguing tale you have told here today, Centurion. Most intriguing, indeed.”
“We aim to please.”
Normally, quipping was not in the Praetor’s behavior, but he was in a good mood for he believed that he had struck a chord with Banu Le and was close to beginning the next stage of his master plan.
“So, when can we begin the procedure?”
There was silence from Banu Le.
“It’s not that simple, Centurion.”
“What do you mean? If it’s payment, no price is too small for --””
“It’s not that at all.”
Dread began to build in Shinzon’s stomach, though it could equally have been his genetic disorder tearing his DNA asunder once again as it had since the Dominion War.
Banu Le starred at his drink and sighed again.
“The simple fact of the matter Centurion Shinzon is that by myself, I cannot help you in securing a new body or genetic harvesting.”
***
Location: Ashalla
Bajor, Milky Way Galaxy
Each planet throughout both galaxies had at least one city that had been at one point or still was a centerpiece and gathering of culture. Earth had Rome, Q’ono’S the First City, Coruscant had, well, itself, and Bajor had Ashalla. The capital city since the various nations and provinces had united millenia ago, Ashalla had been one of many to take the brunt of the Cardassian Occupation. But through the perseverance of the Bajoran people and the Federation’s assistance, the city had been restored to its past glory.
“Rio Grande, you are cleared for landing at Docking Pad 49.”
“Acknowledged,” replied Luke to the Bajoran air traffic controller. As he guided the Runabout over the city-expanse, he was struck by the beauty of Ashalla. The blending of modern and ancient Bajoran architecture, the clear, cobalt-blue mediation pools, the lush green trees and sandy roads -- even all these years after having left Tatooine, the sigh of such life over a desert wasteland never ceased to silence him. Mara was also impressed.
“It’s absolutely beautiful,” she said softly from the co-pilot’s seat as Luke set the Rio Grande . “It’s too bad Leia can’t see this, now.”
“My sister said the same thing about Naboo. And I intend to visit the world once the Vong have been defeated and the Merging averted, but…”
“But what?’
“This, this world. We haven’t even set foot on Bajor yet and I’m already falling in love with it.”
Mara cocked an eyebrow.
“Watch who you say that to, farmboy.”
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it like that Mara.”
“Skywalker, I was kidding.”
Luke smiled slightly at his wife
“I know, it’s just this world. I’ve read of how Bajor has been touched by these Prophets and I can feel it beyond the cockpit of this ship. I can feel a stirring in the Force that I’ve only felt a handful of times in my life.” This world has been blessed by the Force. And I’ll be dammed it we lose it to the Vong or the Merging.”
“Wise words, young one.”
Luke and Mara both turned around
“Vedek Ebosh, I presume.”
The Vedek smiled like an old man or teacher addressing his student.
“You mustn’t presume too much of anything. You’d be surprised at the truths and deeper layers of many matters.”
For a second, Luke was tempted to believe that Ebosh was channeling the Force ghost of Obi-Wan Kenobi, but he knew that was impossible. Obi-Wan was long gone from this plane of existence. But if that was the case, then why had he heard his teacher’s voice during his Meld while Mara was in labor?
Before he could give the matter any more thought, Ebosh dropped his serious façade and began chuckling.
“Forgive me for that little philosophical act; I can‘t resist having a little fun in my age, even with off-worlders.”
“Even off-worlders declared as diplomatic VIP‘s, Vedek Ebosh,” came a stern voice from behind him. The Vedek moved aside as a younger woman in her late thirties stepped into the cockpit.
“I apologize for my associate’s behavior. I am Second Minister Asarem Wadeen. And on behalf of the Council of Ministers --”
“And the Vedek assembly -- ”
“Bajor welcomes you to Ashalla, Masters Skywalker.”
***
Location: U.S.S. Defiant
Gamma Quadrant, Milky Way Galaxy
Despite Starfleet Security’s best efforts, Maquis sympathizers had been able to repeatedly leak important and vital reports to the group during the height of their operations. One of the most notable of these reports had been regarding Starfleet’s first contact Jem’Hadar at the end of 2370. The bigwigs in Command had been shocked silent at the phased-polaron weaponry employed by the Dominion’s foot soldiers and how it had torn through a Galaxy-class starship’s shields as if they hadn’t existed.
The Federation had been able to counter it, though, with the capture of a Jem’Hadar attack ship a year before the war had started. And it appeared that these rogue Borg had done the same, adapting their stolen equipment to counter the fighting technologies of the culture that had caused them so much pain and damage prior to their assimilation.
The rogue Borg ships hadn’t wasted any time as the Unimatrix Zero, Dominion, and lone Starfleet ‘escort ship’ had been pulled out of warp. The interceptors had already initiated strafing runs against the slower Jem’Hadar cruisers, the beetle-like attack ships scrambling to pursue and destroy them. The Assimilators on the other hand were keeping their distance. They had apparently been stripped by their new masters of their assimilation beam emitters and were now solely armed with long-range torpedoes which were fired from their launch tubes at a rapid rate towards the fleet.
On the bridge of the Defiant, Commander Chakotay couldn’t help but wonder what effect the Republic’s turbolasers would have on the Borg. Would they have torn through them as easily Species 8472’s bio-energy beams had during their brief conflict with the Collective or the other way around? If it was the former, Chakotay would have gladly had one put on Voyager during their time in the Detla Quadrant; would have made things easier not just against the Borg, but the Kazon, the Hirogen, and everyone else that had wanted a piece of the Starfleet vessel.
Despite his time on the Liberty and even Voyager, Chakotay felt more secure than he had thought possible on the bridge of Starfleet’s first real warship class, even in the midst of this battle. However, if there was a weak point in his command style, it was that the Commander was not as familiar with the ship as Nog, Dax, or any of the others that had fought on both the previous Defiant and this one. Oh, he had read of Thomas Riker’s daring theft of the ship and the damage he had caused to the Cardassian military and while this was not the same Defiant, he still knew what it was capable of.
But knowing something and doing it are two entirely separate actions, after all.
“Give me full power to shields,” he ordered. “Get us an escort from at least two Jem‘Hadar ships and then Execute attack pattern Delta Two-Niner and prepare to fire on mark!”
“Aye, Commander.”
***
Location: Lady Luck
That Galaxy Far, Far Away
“Quark. Quark?”
The Ferengi bartender’s eyes fluttered open, the soft and silky feeling of the Lady Luck’s couches threatening to return him to the peaceful sleep and the visions of sugarplums -- or slips and bars of gold-pressed latinum in his case -- that had been dancing in his head.
“Wuzzit?”
“We’re there,” Lando stated, standing against the frame of the doorframe of the Lady Luck’s lounge.
Quark rose slowly, massaging his lobes as he collected his thoughts and got his bearings as he gazed out through transparisteel viewing port at the vast expanse of space.
“And where exactly is there?”
“The Outer Rim, in an area free of Yuuzhan Vong activity and dovin basal mines.”
“Whoopdedoo,” Quark muttered, the word coming to life at random from the words that O’Brien and Bashir had used during their romps through his holosuites -- which had constituted a rather large portion of his monthly earnings before the Irishman had gotten it into his head to leave for Earth and then Cardassia. While Bashir was still a regular customer, it was nowhere on the level that it was during the old days.
But, as he had remarked to Morn after the Dominion War, “The more things change, the more they stay the same.” And how things had changed. His frinxing brother was now the head of the Ferengi Alliance and he was halfway across the universe in a galaxy far, far away on an errant venture. “One small step for Ferengi,” his brother had stated. Yeah, right; one small step his --
Wait.
Quark suddenly realized something.
“There’s nothing even out there.”
Lando smiled and starred down at his chronometer.
“Just wait for it.”
***
Location: Q’ono’S
Beta Quadrant, Milky Way Galaxy
There was something about the First City that Korath had always liked. Perhaps it was simply its hallowed place in the history of the Klingon people, that countless wars, both military and political, had been fought here. The very land bore the blood of the willing soldiers who had entered Sto-Vo-Kor. Call it a morbid thought, but Korath was used to morbid thinking.
“I must commend you for the view of the city,” he stated as he gazed through the windows of the downtown high-rise where the ex-Defense Force warrior found himself on this day. A fire was crackling with the hearth as his benefactor and employer turned a log.
“It is who must commend you. Attempted assassination of the Chancellor is not an easy task, especially this one,” his employer stated.
Korath chuckled.
“It was, I admit, a tricky operation, especially given the security surrounding the High Council. How are we doing in that field?”
“Lorgh is investigating, but he will discover nothing. I have seen to that with great care.” He chuckled softly. “The old saber bear’s teeth have grown worn. We having nothing to fear from him or Imperial Intelligence at all. There all too busy worrying about the Yuuzhan Vong and saving the life of Martok.”
At this, Korath stiffened.
“You do realize though that if the Vong come through the wormhole, an Empire in disruption will not be able to easily resist them?”
“Of course I do. That was why we have waited as long as we have and why Martok is still alive. The Plan dictates it as such and the Plan is to be --”
A beeping cut through the men’s conversation.”
“What was that?”
“A proximity alarm of sorts.”
A sign of worry flashed across Korath’s face.
“You said we had nothing to fear from Imperial Intelligence.”
“We don’t.”
“But, if that was a Proximity alarm --”
“It is not meant for Imperial Intelligence. The signal indicates that the key piece of the Plan has just fallen into our laps.
Korath watched as his employer tapped the PADD contained within his hands. The painting on the wall about the fireplace, depicting Kahless’s epic battle with the tyrant Molor, shimmered and was replaced with a holographic viewer. The transmission log on the lower corner of the viewer indicated that this was coming live from the manned-checkpoints at the edge of the system and showed a de-cloaking Klingon warship.
It was the I.K.S. Gorkon.
***
Location: The Q Continuum
Somewhere in the Universe
For the second time in as many days -- raising as always the question of time and how to properly follow it within the Q Continuum -- Q was tempted to remain in the black oblivion that had had sunk into rather than face reality. Unfortunately, his jailer didn’t exactly agree with that and Q found himself slowly returning to consciousness. In the distance, he could hear something and though he could see nothing, the words were quite clear:
Look down, look down/
Don't look 'em in the eye/
Look down, look down/
You're here until you die/
Look down, look down/
You'll always be a slave/
Look down, look down,/
You're standing in your grave/
It was safe to say elsewhere in the universe, both Victor Hugo and Andrew Lloyd Webber were turning in their graves. So in that spirit, Q ignored them and resumed attempting to gain his bearings. The entity tried turning his head and lo and behold, he was able to see to both sides of the table.
As his eyes became adjusted to the dim surroundings, he saw that he was in what appeared to be a mix between a medieval dungeon and a laboratory -- though what typed eluded him, despite the sense of familiarity about it that he couldn‘t quite put his finger -- or what passed for one -- on. Q tried to move his arms and legs, but found that he could not. He was shackled down on what he assumed to be a table, since he was facing the ceiling.
“Well, what a fine pickle this has turned out to be,” Q muttered. And he was right in that regard
The Quintessence had more or less blown up, the collective beings known as the Q had undergone a mass lobotomy, there was no sign of either his family or the Stranger within his surroundings, and the Great and All-Powerful Q was apparently responsible for --
“Q.”
A voice like the voice of a god from on high came through the inky blackness of his prison.
“Yes,” he replied rather innocently.
“Rise!”
The view of the ceiling began to recede as the table moved forward, bringing up him face to face with his people’s leader, the Great and All-Powerful Q. He was cloaked no longer in his strange variant of the post-World War III judge’s guise , but in plain and simple black robes, the hood pulled down over the upper half of his face. Upon seeing his guise, Q suddenly realized why the laboratory seemed familiar and if he could he would have smacked his hand against his head. As it was, he could only vent his feelings and thoughts through his most dangerous weapon after snapping his fingers: his mouth.
“I don’t believe it. First the Force Choke and now the revelation scene. Don’t you have anything original left to parody? I only ask because if you did, then you wouldn‘t act like you had the scarecrow pole jammed up your --”
Q’s voice was cut off as the air in his lungs deserted him, the GPQ’s right fist clenched as he performed the signature move of a deceased Chosen One-turned Sith Lord. He let if go for a few moments before unclenching his fist. Q breathed like a fish out of water before glaring back up at the entity.
“You really are a sadistic bastard, you know that?”
“I haven’t even begun with Q,” he said slowly, a cold smile on his face.
“Then the idiots dancing around the pool of water were just the appetizer?”
“Not even that. They were the cocktails before dinner. You are the appetizer, the universe the entree.”
Q cocked an eyebrow in a Vulcan-like style.
“Okaayy. Well, Clarice, the problem there is that I’m thin and tough and -- ”
“Not in the literal sense, you foolish, masochistic simpleton.”
“Oh, really? Good, because I don’t have any capers or white wine sauce, so --”
Q’s quaint -- and in his professional opinion, witty -- retorts were silenced as the GPQ raised his right hand again, but he did not clench it. Instead, all five of his fingers reached out and blue and white lightning similar to that which had struck the ground in front of his family and the Stranger earlier struck him. It obviously didn’t kill Q, but it hurt like hell. The entity coughed as the smell of burning flesh and burnt cloth filled his nostrils -- or once again, what passed for them.”
“Look, I like riding the lightning on occasion, but --”
“And that is only the beginning, Q.”
“I have no doubt of that, Sir de Wynter,” Q muttered.
“What did you say?”
“I’m not going to tell; you just hurt me some more.”
His eyes narrowing the Stranger raised himself up to his full height, his arms outstretched. By instinct, Q’s body braced for the flash of lightning that would follow momentarily but oddly, nothing happened. The Stranger simple
“I am done playing around with you, Q. You will now tell me what I want.“
“And that would be?”
“Everything.”
“Everything?”
“EVERYTHING.”
Q considered this for a moment.
“Well, if I’m telling you everything, then we could be here a while, since -- ”
The Force lightning flew again and over the sparks and burning, Q heard the slow, dangerous voice of the Great and Powerful Q in his ears.
“You will tell me everything the Stranger told you about the Merging and everything you have done to combat it.”
***
Location: Coruscant
The Galaxy Far, Far Away
For Captain Jean-Luc Picard, the use of profanity was a rare event. Even rarer was the usage of profanity in his native French tongue. And this was not a simple case of merde as had been uttered back in the Federation Team’s quarters in the imperial Palace. No, unbridled, pure French profanity -- which was unofficially considered by some to be the best language in which to curse -- was almost never seen by those closest to the Captain accept under the most dire or stressing of circumstances.
It was therefore safe to say that finding out that you had been hijacked by agents of a fascistic race of religious zealots on your way to an important diplomatic function which could result in a grand alliance between your governments was indeed a dire situation if there ever was one.
He was cursing less at this and more at himself. He should have expected that the Vong would pull something like this. The problem was that there had been so many similarities between both government’s security forces that he had had faith in them. And he had orderd the Starfleet weapons left behind for the purpose of the function.
Dammit.
Well, it looked like it wasn’t just the bodyguards. It was the entire crew of the hovercraft. One or two hands both Picard and Leia could conceive, but the entire crew? It looked like the Vong leaders weren’t taking any chances in their goal to prevent a Federation-Republic alliance that existed in all but name if you considered the combined military actions taken over the last month.
“Not again,” muttered the EMH, the number of times that Voyager crewmembers had been hijacked under the guise of a friendly banner flowing through his memory algorithms. “Quiet,” muttered Munro, cursing both the EMH’s never-ending pessimistic bedside manner and the fact that he had left his Hazard Team armor and weapons back at the Imperial Palace.
“Silence infidels,” growled one crewman, who had removed amphistaffs from the storage locker at the rear of the hovercraft as the others stood around the Federation team and the Nubian delegation.
“You can’t expect to get away with this,” said Picard. “The Federation and the New Republic will --”
“Do nothing. Both of your galaxies will die and burn before the divine light of Yun-Yuuzhan and Yun-Yammka,” replied the shorter warrior.
“Yeah, well, be sure to bring some sun tanning lotion, then,” Vaughn murmured from the far end of the couch, his eyes couched downward and his fists clenched in anger. The warrior stepped forward, malice in his ooglith-masquer shielded eyes. Suddenly, he felt a hand on his shoulder.
“No. The Warmaster wants the infidels alive. I will…discipline him,” stated the taller warrior and the leader of the group that Czulkang Lah himself had chosen for this divine mission. The younger warrior nodded in submission as the team leader moved forward at Vaughn’s slouched form.
“Up. Now”
Vaughn shrugged, raised himself up from the couch --
-- and as his palm uncurled, a beam of light shot from his fingertips and struck the Vong warrior directly in the face. The blast sent him hurtling across the expanse of the cabin, narrowly missing the Starfleet ambassadorial team as he impacted with a thud against the aft bulkheads.
Almost as in a daze, Picard recognized Vaughn’s weapon as a miniature variant of the type-1 phaser, known unofficially as the Cricket. Looks like Vaughn hadn’t heeded his request to not bring any weapons to the function. Picard should have known better of a man who had been born during the height of the respective cold wars with the Klingon and Romulan Empires.
At the moment, though, he wasn’t complaining.
Seizing that thread of opportunity, the passengers sprung into action.
***
Location: Jem’Hadar Attack Vessel 1607
Gamma Quadrant, Milky Way Galaxy
It could blamed for his time spent on both Deep Space Nine and the Defiant, but Odo severely missed having a view screen aboard his ship, even with the advantages offered by the headsets. In the distance, he could see the Defiant begin a strafing run against the three Assimilators with two Jem‘Hadar attack fighters in tow, their polaron beams lancing out.
Taking cue, the Starfleet ‘escort craft’ performed a barrel roll, narrowly dodging the Borg weapons fire before unloading its arsenal at less than four-hundred meters from the shields of the assimilators, or specifically, the shield areas surrounding the weapons emitters and launchers. The Defiant moved with grace as it escaped the explosions across the surfaces of all three Borg ships.
As he watched the Odo couldn’t help but wonder if Chakotay had taken a cue from a similar move Sisko had performed against two Jem’Hadar fighters when the original Defiant had resuced him and Garak from the Massacre at the Omarion Nebula. But there was time to worry about that later.
“The Defiant has disabled the Assimilators‘s weapons,” Taran’atar barked from his console, holding on as the smaller Borg ships continued to harasss Attack Vessel 1607.
“Status of the rest of their fleet?”
“The Sphere has been destroyed and all but two of the Interceptors have been destroyed as well.”
“They’ll regenerate, but they’ll take time. Prepare to finish them,” Weyoun ordered. Suddenly, the Dominion ship’s consoles began beeping.
“What is it?”
The Second glanced down at his readings.
“The remaining Assimilators and Interceptors are retreating back through the transwarp conduit. Shall we pursue, Founder?”
Odo breathed a sigh of relief as he removed the headset.
“Do not pursue them. Have the fleet stand down and --”
The Second’s eyes widened as he looked down at his console, the Dominion tech alerting him of a new development to their already complicated situation.
“Founder, one of the Interceptors is turning back! They’re on a suicide run!”
The headset was back on in the space of half a second as Odo saw the final Interceptor take weapons fire from the best gunners the Founders could breed as made a direct run at the bridge of Attack Vessel 1607. The Founder was confronted with a horrible sense of déjà vu, memories of the death of the Captain Keough and the crew of the Galaxy-class U.S.S. Odyssey flashing before him as everything around the former Chief of DS9’s security was engulfed in fire.
***
Elsewhere, she who spoke for and thought for so many different minds laughed aloud from her throne as the kamikaze attack destroyed the bridge of Jem’Hadar attack vessel 1607. It had been the first time she had laughed in quite some time, actually; she ignored it, though. The suicide run in many ways was an unnecessary touch. She was winning the war and had no significant reason to sacrifice her pawns.
Yes, she could have easily have left the Dominion vessel intact. But where was the fun in that? Besides, she knew quite well the value of kamikaze attacks on enemy forces and had seen it firsthand so many times. It created chaos and fear and in her current role, she was the chosen one, the antithesis to this chaos.
And as that antithesis she would bring order to both of her galaxies.
***
To be continued…
***
Author’s Notes
* Shinzon’s disease began afflicting him during the Dominion War according to the “Tales of the Dominion War” anthology.
* Asarem Wadeen was Bajor’s Second Minister during the first year of the DS9 relaunch. As to whether or not I will bring in the Kira’s post-Winn foil, Vedek Yevir Linjarin , well, we’ll see…
* Andrew Lloyd Webber is NOT dead, nor was I making any death threat against him in this chapter.
* GPQ/Q’s bit about Sir de Wynter is a reference to Sean Connery’s line from the 1998 Avengers film.
Star Trek/Star Wars: The Best of Both Worlds -- Act II, Part IV
“Next to knowing when to seize an opportunity, the next important thing is to know when to forgo an advantage.”
-- Benjamin Disraeli --
Author’s Note: This chapter contains potential spoilers for Star Wars: Episode III -- Revenge of the Sith. Other than that, as always enjoy!
***
Location: Tipoca City
Kamino, The Galaxy Far, Far Away
Banu Le sat in rapt silence, his long hand resting beneath his chin, his own hot drink long forgotten as Shinzon completed the telling of his tale to the Kaminoan administrator. Naturally, Shinzon had left out crucial details, specifically the capabilities of the Scimitar and their role in the second Battle for Sector 001 and had instead focused on the plight of the Remans and their one and only chance to end Romulan oppression forever.
At last, Banu Le spoke.
“A fascinating and intriguing tale you have told here today, Centurion. Most intriguing, indeed.”
“We aim to please.”
Normally, quipping was not in the Praetor’s behavior, but he was in a good mood for he believed that he had struck a chord with Banu Le and was close to beginning the next stage of his master plan.
“So, when can we begin the procedure?”
There was silence from Banu Le.
“It’s not that simple, Centurion.”
“What do you mean? If it’s payment, no price is too small for --””
“It’s not that at all.”
Dread began to build in Shinzon’s stomach, though it could equally have been his genetic disorder tearing his DNA asunder once again as it had since the Dominion War.
Banu Le starred at his drink and sighed again.
“The simple fact of the matter Centurion Shinzon is that by myself, I cannot help you in securing a new body or genetic harvesting.”
***
Location: Ashalla
Bajor, Milky Way Galaxy
Each planet throughout both galaxies had at least one city that had been at one point or still was a centerpiece and gathering of culture. Earth had Rome, Q’ono’S the First City, Coruscant had, well, itself, and Bajor had Ashalla. The capital city since the various nations and provinces had united millenia ago, Ashalla had been one of many to take the brunt of the Cardassian Occupation. But through the perseverance of the Bajoran people and the Federation’s assistance, the city had been restored to its past glory.
“Rio Grande, you are cleared for landing at Docking Pad 49.”
“Acknowledged,” replied Luke to the Bajoran air traffic controller. As he guided the Runabout over the city-expanse, he was struck by the beauty of Ashalla. The blending of modern and ancient Bajoran architecture, the clear, cobalt-blue mediation pools, the lush green trees and sandy roads -- even all these years after having left Tatooine, the sigh of such life over a desert wasteland never ceased to silence him. Mara was also impressed.
“It’s absolutely beautiful,” she said softly from the co-pilot’s seat as Luke set the Rio Grande . “It’s too bad Leia can’t see this, now.”
“My sister said the same thing about Naboo. And I intend to visit the world once the Vong have been defeated and the Merging averted, but…”
“But what?’
“This, this world. We haven’t even set foot on Bajor yet and I’m already falling in love with it.”
Mara cocked an eyebrow.
“Watch who you say that to, farmboy.”
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it like that Mara.”
“Skywalker, I was kidding.”
Luke smiled slightly at his wife
“I know, it’s just this world. I’ve read of how Bajor has been touched by these Prophets and I can feel it beyond the cockpit of this ship. I can feel a stirring in the Force that I’ve only felt a handful of times in my life.” This world has been blessed by the Force. And I’ll be dammed it we lose it to the Vong or the Merging.”
“Wise words, young one.”
Luke and Mara both turned around
“Vedek Ebosh, I presume.”
The Vedek smiled like an old man or teacher addressing his student.
“You mustn’t presume too much of anything. You’d be surprised at the truths and deeper layers of many matters.”
For a second, Luke was tempted to believe that Ebosh was channeling the Force ghost of Obi-Wan Kenobi, but he knew that was impossible. Obi-Wan was long gone from this plane of existence. But if that was the case, then why had he heard his teacher’s voice during his Meld while Mara was in labor?
Before he could give the matter any more thought, Ebosh dropped his serious façade and began chuckling.
“Forgive me for that little philosophical act; I can‘t resist having a little fun in my age, even with off-worlders.”
“Even off-worlders declared as diplomatic VIP‘s, Vedek Ebosh,” came a stern voice from behind him. The Vedek moved aside as a younger woman in her late thirties stepped into the cockpit.
“I apologize for my associate’s behavior. I am Second Minister Asarem Wadeen. And on behalf of the Council of Ministers --”
“And the Vedek assembly -- ”
“Bajor welcomes you to Ashalla, Masters Skywalker.”
***
Location: U.S.S. Defiant
Gamma Quadrant, Milky Way Galaxy
Despite Starfleet Security’s best efforts, Maquis sympathizers had been able to repeatedly leak important and vital reports to the group during the height of their operations. One of the most notable of these reports had been regarding Starfleet’s first contact Jem’Hadar at the end of 2370. The bigwigs in Command had been shocked silent at the phased-polaron weaponry employed by the Dominion’s foot soldiers and how it had torn through a Galaxy-class starship’s shields as if they hadn’t existed.
The Federation had been able to counter it, though, with the capture of a Jem’Hadar attack ship a year before the war had started. And it appeared that these rogue Borg had done the same, adapting their stolen equipment to counter the fighting technologies of the culture that had caused them so much pain and damage prior to their assimilation.
The rogue Borg ships hadn’t wasted any time as the Unimatrix Zero, Dominion, and lone Starfleet ‘escort ship’ had been pulled out of warp. The interceptors had already initiated strafing runs against the slower Jem’Hadar cruisers, the beetle-like attack ships scrambling to pursue and destroy them. The Assimilators on the other hand were keeping their distance. They had apparently been stripped by their new masters of their assimilation beam emitters and were now solely armed with long-range torpedoes which were fired from their launch tubes at a rapid rate towards the fleet.
On the bridge of the Defiant, Commander Chakotay couldn’t help but wonder what effect the Republic’s turbolasers would have on the Borg. Would they have torn through them as easily Species 8472’s bio-energy beams had during their brief conflict with the Collective or the other way around? If it was the former, Chakotay would have gladly had one put on Voyager during their time in the Detla Quadrant; would have made things easier not just against the Borg, but the Kazon, the Hirogen, and everyone else that had wanted a piece of the Starfleet vessel.
Despite his time on the Liberty and even Voyager, Chakotay felt more secure than he had thought possible on the bridge of Starfleet’s first real warship class, even in the midst of this battle. However, if there was a weak point in his command style, it was that the Commander was not as familiar with the ship as Nog, Dax, or any of the others that had fought on both the previous Defiant and this one. Oh, he had read of Thomas Riker’s daring theft of the ship and the damage he had caused to the Cardassian military and while this was not the same Defiant, he still knew what it was capable of.
But knowing something and doing it are two entirely separate actions, after all.
“Give me full power to shields,” he ordered. “Get us an escort from at least two Jem‘Hadar ships and then Execute attack pattern Delta Two-Niner and prepare to fire on mark!”
“Aye, Commander.”
***
Location: Lady Luck
That Galaxy Far, Far Away
“Quark. Quark?”
The Ferengi bartender’s eyes fluttered open, the soft and silky feeling of the Lady Luck’s couches threatening to return him to the peaceful sleep and the visions of sugarplums -- or slips and bars of gold-pressed latinum in his case -- that had been dancing in his head.
“Wuzzit?”
“We’re there,” Lando stated, standing against the frame of the doorframe of the Lady Luck’s lounge.
Quark rose slowly, massaging his lobes as he collected his thoughts and got his bearings as he gazed out through transparisteel viewing port at the vast expanse of space.
“And where exactly is there?”
“The Outer Rim, in an area free of Yuuzhan Vong activity and dovin basal mines.”
“Whoopdedoo,” Quark muttered, the word coming to life at random from the words that O’Brien and Bashir had used during their romps through his holosuites -- which had constituted a rather large portion of his monthly earnings before the Irishman had gotten it into his head to leave for Earth and then Cardassia. While Bashir was still a regular customer, it was nowhere on the level that it was during the old days.
But, as he had remarked to Morn after the Dominion War, “The more things change, the more they stay the same.” And how things had changed. His frinxing brother was now the head of the Ferengi Alliance and he was halfway across the universe in a galaxy far, far away on an errant venture. “One small step for Ferengi,” his brother had stated. Yeah, right; one small step his --
Wait.
Quark suddenly realized something.
“There’s nothing even out there.”
Lando smiled and starred down at his chronometer.
“Just wait for it.”
***
Location: Q’ono’S
Beta Quadrant, Milky Way Galaxy
There was something about the First City that Korath had always liked. Perhaps it was simply its hallowed place in the history of the Klingon people, that countless wars, both military and political, had been fought here. The very land bore the blood of the willing soldiers who had entered Sto-Vo-Kor. Call it a morbid thought, but Korath was used to morbid thinking.
“I must commend you for the view of the city,” he stated as he gazed through the windows of the downtown high-rise where the ex-Defense Force warrior found himself on this day. A fire was crackling with the hearth as his benefactor and employer turned a log.
“It is who must commend you. Attempted assassination of the Chancellor is not an easy task, especially this one,” his employer stated.
Korath chuckled.
“It was, I admit, a tricky operation, especially given the security surrounding the High Council. How are we doing in that field?”
“Lorgh is investigating, but he will discover nothing. I have seen to that with great care.” He chuckled softly. “The old saber bear’s teeth have grown worn. We having nothing to fear from him or Imperial Intelligence at all. There all too busy worrying about the Yuuzhan Vong and saving the life of Martok.”
At this, Korath stiffened.
“You do realize though that if the Vong come through the wormhole, an Empire in disruption will not be able to easily resist them?”
“Of course I do. That was why we have waited as long as we have and why Martok is still alive. The Plan dictates it as such and the Plan is to be --”
A beeping cut through the men’s conversation.”
“What was that?”
“A proximity alarm of sorts.”
A sign of worry flashed across Korath’s face.
“You said we had nothing to fear from Imperial Intelligence.”
“We don’t.”
“But, if that was a Proximity alarm --”
“It is not meant for Imperial Intelligence. The signal indicates that the key piece of the Plan has just fallen into our laps.
Korath watched as his employer tapped the PADD contained within his hands. The painting on the wall about the fireplace, depicting Kahless’s epic battle with the tyrant Molor, shimmered and was replaced with a holographic viewer. The transmission log on the lower corner of the viewer indicated that this was coming live from the manned-checkpoints at the edge of the system and showed a de-cloaking Klingon warship.
It was the I.K.S. Gorkon.
***
Location: The Q Continuum
Somewhere in the Universe
For the second time in as many days -- raising as always the question of time and how to properly follow it within the Q Continuum -- Q was tempted to remain in the black oblivion that had had sunk into rather than face reality. Unfortunately, his jailer didn’t exactly agree with that and Q found himself slowly returning to consciousness. In the distance, he could hear something and though he could see nothing, the words were quite clear:
Look down, look down/
Don't look 'em in the eye/
Look down, look down/
You're here until you die/
Look down, look down/
You'll always be a slave/
Look down, look down,/
You're standing in your grave/
It was safe to say elsewhere in the universe, both Victor Hugo and Andrew Lloyd Webber were turning in their graves. So in that spirit, Q ignored them and resumed attempting to gain his bearings. The entity tried turning his head and lo and behold, he was able to see to both sides of the table.
As his eyes became adjusted to the dim surroundings, he saw that he was in what appeared to be a mix between a medieval dungeon and a laboratory -- though what typed eluded him, despite the sense of familiarity about it that he couldn‘t quite put his finger -- or what passed for one -- on. Q tried to move his arms and legs, but found that he could not. He was shackled down on what he assumed to be a table, since he was facing the ceiling.
“Well, what a fine pickle this has turned out to be,” Q muttered. And he was right in that regard
The Quintessence had more or less blown up, the collective beings known as the Q had undergone a mass lobotomy, there was no sign of either his family or the Stranger within his surroundings, and the Great and All-Powerful Q was apparently responsible for --
“Q.”
A voice like the voice of a god from on high came through the inky blackness of his prison.
“Yes,” he replied rather innocently.
“Rise!”
The view of the ceiling began to recede as the table moved forward, bringing up him face to face with his people’s leader, the Great and All-Powerful Q. He was cloaked no longer in his strange variant of the post-World War III judge’s guise , but in plain and simple black robes, the hood pulled down over the upper half of his face. Upon seeing his guise, Q suddenly realized why the laboratory seemed familiar and if he could he would have smacked his hand against his head. As it was, he could only vent his feelings and thoughts through his most dangerous weapon after snapping his fingers: his mouth.
“I don’t believe it. First the Force Choke and now the revelation scene. Don’t you have anything original left to parody? I only ask because if you did, then you wouldn‘t act like you had the scarecrow pole jammed up your --”
Q’s voice was cut off as the air in his lungs deserted him, the GPQ’s right fist clenched as he performed the signature move of a deceased Chosen One-turned Sith Lord. He let if go for a few moments before unclenching his fist. Q breathed like a fish out of water before glaring back up at the entity.
“You really are a sadistic bastard, you know that?”
“I haven’t even begun with Q,” he said slowly, a cold smile on his face.
“Then the idiots dancing around the pool of water were just the appetizer?”
“Not even that. They were the cocktails before dinner. You are the appetizer, the universe the entree.”
Q cocked an eyebrow in a Vulcan-like style.
“Okaayy. Well, Clarice, the problem there is that I’m thin and tough and -- ”
“Not in the literal sense, you foolish, masochistic simpleton.”
“Oh, really? Good, because I don’t have any capers or white wine sauce, so --”
Q’s quaint -- and in his professional opinion, witty -- retorts were silenced as the GPQ raised his right hand again, but he did not clench it. Instead, all five of his fingers reached out and blue and white lightning similar to that which had struck the ground in front of his family and the Stranger earlier struck him. It obviously didn’t kill Q, but it hurt like hell. The entity coughed as the smell of burning flesh and burnt cloth filled his nostrils -- or once again, what passed for them.”
“Look, I like riding the lightning on occasion, but --”
“And that is only the beginning, Q.”
“I have no doubt of that, Sir de Wynter,” Q muttered.
“What did you say?”
“I’m not going to tell; you just hurt me some more.”
His eyes narrowing the Stranger raised himself up to his full height, his arms outstretched. By instinct, Q’s body braced for the flash of lightning that would follow momentarily but oddly, nothing happened. The Stranger simple
“I am done playing around with you, Q. You will now tell me what I want.“
“And that would be?”
“Everything.”
“Everything?”
“EVERYTHING.”
Q considered this for a moment.
“Well, if I’m telling you everything, then we could be here a while, since -- ”
The Force lightning flew again and over the sparks and burning, Q heard the slow, dangerous voice of the Great and Powerful Q in his ears.
“You will tell me everything the Stranger told you about the Merging and everything you have done to combat it.”
***
Location: Coruscant
The Galaxy Far, Far Away
For Captain Jean-Luc Picard, the use of profanity was a rare event. Even rarer was the usage of profanity in his native French tongue. And this was not a simple case of merde as had been uttered back in the Federation Team’s quarters in the imperial Palace. No, unbridled, pure French profanity -- which was unofficially considered by some to be the best language in which to curse -- was almost never seen by those closest to the Captain accept under the most dire or stressing of circumstances.
It was therefore safe to say that finding out that you had been hijacked by agents of a fascistic race of religious zealots on your way to an important diplomatic function which could result in a grand alliance between your governments was indeed a dire situation if there ever was one.
He was cursing less at this and more at himself. He should have expected that the Vong would pull something like this. The problem was that there had been so many similarities between both government’s security forces that he had had faith in them. And he had orderd the Starfleet weapons left behind for the purpose of the function.
Dammit.
Well, it looked like it wasn’t just the bodyguards. It was the entire crew of the hovercraft. One or two hands both Picard and Leia could conceive, but the entire crew? It looked like the Vong leaders weren’t taking any chances in their goal to prevent a Federation-Republic alliance that existed in all but name if you considered the combined military actions taken over the last month.
“Not again,” muttered the EMH, the number of times that Voyager crewmembers had been hijacked under the guise of a friendly banner flowing through his memory algorithms. “Quiet,” muttered Munro, cursing both the EMH’s never-ending pessimistic bedside manner and the fact that he had left his Hazard Team armor and weapons back at the Imperial Palace.
“Silence infidels,” growled one crewman, who had removed amphistaffs from the storage locker at the rear of the hovercraft as the others stood around the Federation team and the Nubian delegation.
“You can’t expect to get away with this,” said Picard. “The Federation and the New Republic will --”
“Do nothing. Both of your galaxies will die and burn before the divine light of Yun-Yuuzhan and Yun-Yammka,” replied the shorter warrior.
“Yeah, well, be sure to bring some sun tanning lotion, then,” Vaughn murmured from the far end of the couch, his eyes couched downward and his fists clenched in anger. The warrior stepped forward, malice in his ooglith-masquer shielded eyes. Suddenly, he felt a hand on his shoulder.
“No. The Warmaster wants the infidels alive. I will…discipline him,” stated the taller warrior and the leader of the group that Czulkang Lah himself had chosen for this divine mission. The younger warrior nodded in submission as the team leader moved forward at Vaughn’s slouched form.
“Up. Now”
Vaughn shrugged, raised himself up from the couch --
-- and as his palm uncurled, a beam of light shot from his fingertips and struck the Vong warrior directly in the face. The blast sent him hurtling across the expanse of the cabin, narrowly missing the Starfleet ambassadorial team as he impacted with a thud against the aft bulkheads.
Almost as in a daze, Picard recognized Vaughn’s weapon as a miniature variant of the type-1 phaser, known unofficially as the Cricket. Looks like Vaughn hadn’t heeded his request to not bring any weapons to the function. Picard should have known better of a man who had been born during the height of the respective cold wars with the Klingon and Romulan Empires.
At the moment, though, he wasn’t complaining.
Seizing that thread of opportunity, the passengers sprung into action.
***
Location: Jem’Hadar Attack Vessel 1607
Gamma Quadrant, Milky Way Galaxy
It could blamed for his time spent on both Deep Space Nine and the Defiant, but Odo severely missed having a view screen aboard his ship, even with the advantages offered by the headsets. In the distance, he could see the Defiant begin a strafing run against the three Assimilators with two Jem‘Hadar attack fighters in tow, their polaron beams lancing out.
Taking cue, the Starfleet ‘escort craft’ performed a barrel roll, narrowly dodging the Borg weapons fire before unloading its arsenal at less than four-hundred meters from the shields of the assimilators, or specifically, the shield areas surrounding the weapons emitters and launchers. The Defiant moved with grace as it escaped the explosions across the surfaces of all three Borg ships.
As he watched the Odo couldn’t help but wonder if Chakotay had taken a cue from a similar move Sisko had performed against two Jem’Hadar fighters when the original Defiant had resuced him and Garak from the Massacre at the Omarion Nebula. But there was time to worry about that later.
“The Defiant has disabled the Assimilators‘s weapons,” Taran’atar barked from his console, holding on as the smaller Borg ships continued to harasss Attack Vessel 1607.
“Status of the rest of their fleet?”
“The Sphere has been destroyed and all but two of the Interceptors have been destroyed as well.”
“They’ll regenerate, but they’ll take time. Prepare to finish them,” Weyoun ordered. Suddenly, the Dominion ship’s consoles began beeping.
“What is it?”
The Second glanced down at his readings.
“The remaining Assimilators and Interceptors are retreating back through the transwarp conduit. Shall we pursue, Founder?”
Odo breathed a sigh of relief as he removed the headset.
“Do not pursue them. Have the fleet stand down and --”
The Second’s eyes widened as he looked down at his console, the Dominion tech alerting him of a new development to their already complicated situation.
“Founder, one of the Interceptors is turning back! They’re on a suicide run!”
The headset was back on in the space of half a second as Odo saw the final Interceptor take weapons fire from the best gunners the Founders could breed as made a direct run at the bridge of Attack Vessel 1607. The Founder was confronted with a horrible sense of déjà vu, memories of the death of the Captain Keough and the crew of the Galaxy-class U.S.S. Odyssey flashing before him as everything around the former Chief of DS9’s security was engulfed in fire.
***
Elsewhere, she who spoke for and thought for so many different minds laughed aloud from her throne as the kamikaze attack destroyed the bridge of Jem’Hadar attack vessel 1607. It had been the first time she had laughed in quite some time, actually; she ignored it, though. The suicide run in many ways was an unnecessary touch. She was winning the war and had no significant reason to sacrifice her pawns.
Yes, she could have easily have left the Dominion vessel intact. But where was the fun in that? Besides, she knew quite well the value of kamikaze attacks on enemy forces and had seen it firsthand so many times. It created chaos and fear and in her current role, she was the chosen one, the antithesis to this chaos.
And as that antithesis she would bring order to both of her galaxies.
***
To be continued…
***
Author’s Notes
* Shinzon’s disease began afflicting him during the Dominion War according to the “Tales of the Dominion War” anthology.
* Asarem Wadeen was Bajor’s Second Minister during the first year of the DS9 relaunch. As to whether or not I will bring in the Kira’s post-Winn foil, Vedek Yevir Linjarin , well, we’ll see…
* Andrew Lloyd Webber is NOT dead, nor was I making any death threat against him in this chapter.
* GPQ/Q’s bit about Sir de Wynter is a reference to Sean Connery’s line from the 1998 Avengers film.
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darthdavid
- Pathetic Attention Whore
- Posts: 5470
- Joined: 2003-02-17 12:04pm
- Location: Bat Country!
[Mr. Burns]Excellent.[/Mr. Burns]
I forsee major action in the next installment. Will we be seeing Kirk-fu (sans the ripped shirt) from the Starfleeters and major Vong-slayage on Leia's part (assuming she has her lightsaber)?
I forsee major action in the next installment. Will we be seeing Kirk-fu (sans the ripped shirt) from the Starfleeters and major Vong-slayage on Leia's part (assuming she has her lightsaber)?
Like wiping your ass with silk, no?unbridled, pure French profanity -- which was unofficially considered by some to be the best language in which to curse
No conscience. No law. No stopping them....
....well, maybe a Happy Meal would do it.
Ka Anor needs test subjects!
I still think Furlings look like tribbles
....well, maybe a Happy Meal would do it.
Ka Anor needs test subjects!
I still think Furlings look like tribbles
Oh yes. Those that were dissapointed that I didn't show the Munro/KatarnAgent R wrote:[Mr. Burns]Excellent.[/Mr. Burns]
I forsee major action in the next installment. Will we be seeing Kirk-fu (sans the ripped shirt) from the Starfleeters and major Vong-slayage on Leia's part (assuming she has her lightsaber)?
vs. Vong fight won't be complaining after the next chapter.
unbridled, pure French profanity -- which was unofficially considered by some to be the best language in which to curse
Well, it wasn't in character for Picard to say or think that, but yeah, the Merrovingian's line was the inspiration for that bit.Like wiping your ass with silk, no?
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DarkSilver
- Jedi Council Member
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- Contact:
-showers JME with energon goodies-
good work!
I approve of this chapter.
You will get a full Energon Cube as a bonus
good work!
I approve of this chapter.
You will get a full Energon Cube as a bonus
XBL: Darek Silver | Wii Friend: 5602 6414 0598 0225
LibriumArcana - Roleplaying, Fiction, Irreverence
Trekker (TOS, TNG/DS9-Era) | Warsie (semi-movie purist) | B5'er | TransFan
Cult of Vin Diesel: While it is well known that James Earl Jones performed the voice of Darth Vader, it is less appreciated that Vin Diesel performs the voice of James Earl Jones.
LibriumArcana - Roleplaying, Fiction, Irreverence
Trekker (TOS, TNG/DS9-Era) | Warsie (semi-movie purist) | B5'er | TransFan
Cult of Vin Diesel: While it is well known that James Earl Jones performed the voice of Darth Vader, it is less appreciated that Vin Diesel performs the voice of James Earl Jones.
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Crazedwraith
- Emperor's Hand
- Posts: 11924
- Joined: 2003-04-10 03:45pm
- Location: Cheshire, England
Wait a second? do you just kill Odo?
Very nice I was partuclar amused by this bit:
Also where did you get the name of Bajor's capital from? I couldn't find it in my ST:Encylopedia.
Very nice I was partuclar amused by this bit:
It just semed to me as if you were saying Jem Hardar hand weapons destroyed the Odyssey.The bigwigs in Command had been shocked silent at the phased-polaron weaponry employed by the Dominion’s foot soldiers and how it had torn through a Galaxy-class starship’s shields as if they hadn’t existed.
Also where did you get the name of Bajor's capital from? I couldn't find it in my ST:Encylopedia.
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Robert Walper
- Dishonest Resident Borg Fan-Whore
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