Dawn of Forever, Chapter I-X

[Chris OFarrell]

HOLY....

Well things are heating up now....

[darthdavid]

You are the man.

[Crazedwraith]

Sweeet.

[Ghost Rider]

Excellent work. Hope the move has gone well for you.

[Star Empire]

Very interesting.

[Sonnenburg]

Dawn of Forever, Part VI


Lopdin IV was a Bith colonial world, one of the first to fall when the Vong emerged from hiding and struck. As on many worlds, the population was rounded up into a few central cities, which were then walled off to prevent escape by the indigenous population. Alema Rar had spent some time in one of them at the start of the war, before she escaped. Her sister hadn't been as lucky.

A Vong warrior walked the perimeter of the enclosed city. He was young and inexperienced, with few scars and minor warpaint. Guard duty of a pacified world was to be expected, but while such work chafes those with dreams of glory and bloodshed, it must be done to the best of all possible abilities. As he walked, he tried to be enthusiastic in his examination of the perimeter. There were few places for an enemy to hide, the Vong having cleared the foliage for a kilometer around the city. Still, he paused. There were faint footprints, and they were far too small for any Vong warrior. He slowly looked up and around the edges of the wall, trying to spot something out of place. There were shadows of course, but not deep enough and dark enough for anyone to hide in. He followed the prints nonetheless; perhaps it was a rebel who had a hidden entrance into the city.

There was a sound that was almost like a micro-lightning strike; it was the sound of a lightsaber being quickly activated, swung, and de-activated in under a second. It was a very precise second, in fact, and for the Vong warrior, a very long one, since it lasted the rest of his life. The head toppled to the ground as the body crumpled up, and Alema stepped over the corpse and deeper into the shadows beyond. Others would find the body soon, but she didn't care. Her hatred burned within her, so that there was no room in her heart for fear of the Vong. But getting herself killed now would stop her from getting revenge, so she took some measure of caution by staying out of sight. That was what this small cloak was for. It wasn't much; it would do little outside of the shadows, but it also wouldn't be picked up by any energy detectors because of its lower power.

A kilometer along the wall was the spot, and Alema carefully cut her way inside. It was the back of a shop, empty save for the stink of mildew. She hid away her lightsaber for the moment, slipped into the main shop without being noticed, de-activated the cloak, and strolled out into the streets of the city. The smell nearly froze her in her tracks. It wasn't that it was particularly pungent, although the scent of overcrowded beings with inadequate sewerage and housing lent a rankness to the air. But Alema had been expecting that; it was the memories the smell stirred in her that had hit her harder than she'd imagined. Not just memories, but the dread and fear associated with her time in one of these cities.

"You won't find what you're looking for here," a voice said in her mind. Alema ignored it and walked on into the prison-city. There was little joy here. Trade had been cut off years ago, hence the empty storerooms in the shops. The Vong provided only enough to keep their prisoners pacified. There was hunger everywhere, and the rage that impotence brings to beings after a while. Fights broke out at random, allowing the pent up hate a target for the moment, since they dare not turn it against their masters.

As she passed the mouth of an alley something grabbed Alema's wrist and yanked her inside. She cursed herself for letting her focus be on the city rather than on the real danger that was all around her. The owner of the hand was a Twi'lek; male, red, and his eyes weren't just hungry for food. "[I thought I was the only one on this stinking planet,]" he drawled in Huttese as he shoved her against the wall. The bile rose in her throat at the sight of him; she reached out. His grip on her instantly loosened as his hands went to his throat. The choking sound descended into sickening cracks, and he crumpled at her feet. Alema left him in the alley.
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Sebastian slid the vial of poison out of the tray and carefully inserted it into the hypospray. Taking a steadying breath, he placed it to the rodents furry side and it hissed at the discharge. The beast convulsed, and Sebastian looked up at Morgan, but her eyes were already closed in concentration. He carefully put the hypospray aside and took up the second -the antidote- just in case. The animal was twitching, but Morgan spoke softly to it while her hands stroked it. Seconds turned into minutes, and finally the computer beeped. Morgan opened her eyes with relief and Sebastian dropped the hypospray on the desk, beaming with pride. "That was wonderful," he said as she seemed to catch her breath. He took the animal and returned it to the cage.

"Thanks," Morgan said. "It's getting easier now that I don't have to administer the poison myself... that made the whole thing seem wrong."

"It's understandable," Sebastian said. "But the animal feels no pain in its sleep, and no permanent harm is suffered. It's the least harmful way to learn this technique... even a holodeck can't accurately recreate it, because the light's not really alive."

"I know... but it still feels wrong," Morgan said as she stowed the hyposprays and chemicals away for the time being.

"Your intension is to save the creature, not harm it," Sebastian said. "But your compassion is proper, and I'm glad to hear it." Morgan was focusing more on learning the healing ways of the Jedi, something she'd already showed some skill in. With the continued training she seemed to be tapping into even stronger abilities than ever. The ability to cure poison in oneself was known, but in others it was far more difficult. So far her practice sessions had been going very well. Sebastian washed off the counter carefully. "Are you inviting Ryan to our get together on Saturday?"

"Yes," Morgan said. "Actually, he's already said he'd come. Should be interesting."

"'Interesting,'" Sebastian said with bemusement. "He's not a lab specimen, Morgan."

"Fun, okay," Morgan said with mock exasperation. "It should be fun."

"That's better." Sebastian hugged her close. "Try to have a little more fun, sweetie. You're working too hard."

"It's only because there's so much work to do," Morgan said.

"You've got to make time for other things in your life," Sebastian said. "You can't-" He stumbled, but Morgan caught him.

"Daddy?" she said with concern. "Daddy, is something wrong?"

"Just got a little dizzy there for a moment," he said, followed by a big yawn. "Must be overdoing it a bit myself."

"Are you all right?"

"Yes, yes it's fine," Sebastian pulled himself up straight. "I'm just going to take a nap, all right?"

"Pleasant dreams," Morgan offered after him, but as he left Morgan still seemed to stare at the door for some time.
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Sebastian opened his eyes and stepped out of the alcove. His regeneration cycle had been interrupted - unusual, but upon resuming operations he immediately understood the necessity. The Queen was already examining the situation; Sebastian joined her.

"Korri Rej," the Queen remarked, "is a skilled pilot. She has already evaded eight patrols including one of our own."

"She interferes with our business," Sebastian said, "and is a threat to the survival of the Empire. She cannot be allowed to escape."

"Our thoughts are one," the Queen said.

"What is your opinion, Romal the Attorney?" Sebastian asked. The Devaronian was yawning; the Borg had called him out of bed as well, but he lacked the Borg's ability to push on if the situation demands it.

"The Empire considers you a corporate ally," Romal said. "You can pursue her without worry; just be careful to avoid collateral damage."

"May we cross the border into non-Imperial space?" the Queen asked. "The Mystral seem to do this on several occasions."

"Be cautious, but yes, you could legally get away with it. But Imperial law doesn't exist there obviously. If they think you're an invading force, they may attack."

"The independent systems are weak, with few ships of suffice power to damage us," the Queen said. "The risk is negligible."

"I agree," Sebastian said. "We must pursue Korri Rej until capture or destruction."

"Diverting cubes 10672, 53706, 41833, 64909..."

"Yes, fine," Romal said. "If you need me, you'll know where to find me." The Devaronian slumped off to his quarters while the Borg analyzed the Mystral trajectories and compared it to previous data regarding flight paths and raids and calculated likely avenues of escape. Rej may have intended for her path to be random, but the entire purpose of the Borg was to find order in chaos.
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It took the better part of an hour for Alema to spot the rebel. She had to concede they were well-hidden amongst the people, but there were always signs. One of them was the fact that they were being properly nourished; starvation drags the body, saps it of strength, and it's reflected in every movement, every stance. You couldn't hide it all the time, and a soldier weakened by malnourishment wasn't much use to anyone.

Alema didn't walk up to him directly, but she did finally arrive next to him. He was human, leaning against the stoop of a building and watching the crowd with mild interest, at least from outward appearances. She had no doubt he was aware of everything, including her approach. When she arrived, it looked like she'd just stopped for a rest. "I know you're with the Alliance," she said under her breath.

The man gave a very convincing laugh. "'Fraid not, lady," he said. His tone changed when Alema opened her tunic slightly, revealing her lightsaber. "The Jedi Academy sent you?" he asked in a low voice.

"I'm here to help," was all she offered back.

"Avoiding the answer?" the voice in her mind asked. "You killed the rapist without thought, but you refuse to lie?"

"How many of you are there?" the rebel asked.

"Just me," Alema answered. "But together, that will be enough to liberate this place."

The man nodded, looking off in another direction with a grin on his face, as if she'd just told him a joke. "You've got to be out of your mind."

"There aren't that many guards," Alema said. "We can catch them by surprise and-"

"And what?" the rebel asked. "Wait for them to send more guards, perhaps after killing a few thousand people as an example?"

"We liberate this city," Alema said. "Then we can arm the strong and take the others. We're deep inside Vong space, they'll never expect it."

"Because it's stupid," the rebel said. "What were the Jedi thinking, sending you here? Borda could have sent enough of us here to do this without you, but he hasn't because it will only make things worse. The Vong around here are itching for a fight, being so far from the front lines. A rebellious world is an invitation to slaughter everyone on the pretext of making it an example to other captured worlds."

"So you will stand by and do nothing to stop the Vong," Alema said with contempt.

"Getting these people killed isn't going to solve anything," he answered, trying to keep his voice down. "We smuggle in food and medicine to mitigate things, but it's not the time for armed resistance."

"Food," she scoffed. "These people are starving, you can see it everywhere."

"The Vong know how much food they provide us," the rebel said. "The starvation is deliberate, to help keep people from having the strength to resist. If they don't see evidence for it, at best they'll assume they're giving too much and cut back further, and at worst they'll figure out what we're doing here. We have to be careful with how much we provide to keep from tipping them off."

"He doesn't understand," the voice told Alema. "These people think small, coddle the weak who refuse to help themselves. Tell him about the Vong you killed, and watch his reaction."

"They're already tipped off," Alema said. "I had to kill one of the Vong to get in here."

Now there was no hiding the fury in his eyes. "Do you realize what you've done?" he demanded. "They'll know something's going on here. They're going to go through this city until they find out what we've been doing and how we've been doing it. We'll have to pull out now."

"Or we can fight," Alema said.

"No!" he said. "Go back to the Jedi Academy and tell them that this is not the kind of help we need." He stormed off; Alema was half-tempted to toss him down in the dirt for being so idiotic.

"Don't," the voice told her. "He's not worth it. Save your hatred for the Vong who deserve it."

Who are you? Alema asked as she walked back towards the shop where she'd entered.

"A guide on the path you now walk," the voice answered. "Since leaving the Jedi you've grown in power, but it hasn't been enough, yes?"

Alema glowered at the thought. There's too many of them, she admitted. I'd hoped by working with some of these people I could do more damage...

"But you overestimated their willingness to fight," the voice finished for her. "It was a noble effort, but futile. These people are small, with small concerns; they refuse to look at the larger picture as you do."

Alema walked into the shop, ignoring the protests of the shopkeeper as she headed into the back room. You're one of the Sith, aren't you.

"I am the Sith," the voice answered.

I saw what the Sith did to Jacen Solo, she thought.

"My servant. He can be showy, but he was right about the dark side. You have seen that."

It has been... very potent, Alema admitted.

"It is but a taste of what you can achieve if you join with me."

Alema considered this. Where are you?

"Come through the wormhole, and I will direct you from there."

Alema paused in her step. You can't be in the Milky Way.

"But I am."

That's impossible! The Milky Way isn't in sync with this galaxy! It's not just the distance, it's the time difference-

"Such things are of no concern to me."

But Jaina said-

"Do not listen to the words of your failed teachers," the voice said. "Learn to know the dark side of the Force and you will achieve a power greater than any Jedi."

Alema nodded; her power had grown substantially after leaving Anakin and Laudica behind. I will come to you, my master.

"Good," the voice cooed. "I can sense that you will be a powerful enemy of the Vong, my young apprentice."
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Three H-wings came up behind the Shadow's Edge as Korri Rej pushed the engines to their limits. Someone had fired off an interdictor torpedo, which meant that engaging the hyperdrive was going to be impossible until she reached the edge of the temporary gravity shadow it generated. In the meantime, the H-wings were pelting the freighter with everything they had, and it was more luck then Rej's pilot skills that were keeping them alive at this point.

Lian, in the co-pilots chair, was more concerned with the source of the interdictor torpedo, which was growing larger and larger on her display. "That cube's gaining on us," she warned Rej.

The ship lurched as a laser blast connected with their shields. "That we can handle," Rej said through her teeth, hands gripping the controls so tight it was likely one or the other would be permanently deformed. The ship dove, although that was strictly relative, since they were in deep space, where up and down were matters of personal preference. The Shadow's Edge gave a twist as it "dropped," the H-wings turning to track it as Rej pushed onward towards the edge of the field. There was another jolt, and the ship began spinning wildly, alarms sounding.

"We got clipped by an ion blast," Lian informed her. "The lateral controls are malfunctioning. I've got the droids on it."

"We're nearing the edge," Rej said, as if an out of control ship was a minor distraction. "Ready the navicomputer to jump as quick as we can before the Borg try something else."

"Rej, without the lat-"

"Ready the damn computer!" The alarm stopped although the spinning continued; Rej's attention was completely on the instrument showing the degree of distortion, and when she could jump into hyperspace. "Now!" she shouted. Lian sent over the coordinates, Rej pulled back on the controls, and starlines appeared. Seconds later, they dropped back into real space. The two sank back in the chairs, finally allowing some relief to catch their breath. Then another alarm sounded.

"What the hell is broken now?" Rej asked. Lian didn't answer, she just pointed to her display. A Borg tactical cube was growing inside as it approached from the right. "Aw, come on, give us a kriffin break!" Rej roared as she yanked on the controls and headed off, the cube in pursuit.

[consequences]

Yar, first post, and I even read the whole thing before posting.


Less exposition, development and foreshadowing, and more horrifically painful death for Janeway please.

[2000AD]

Sebastian needs to be slapped upside the head and told to stop living in a dream world

Unless..... the Borg have something hidden up their collective sleeves

[Crazedwraith]

Very nice. Like Alema. Evil darksider person.

[Chris OFarrell]

Good chapter. So now the Sith is looking for a new Student...I don't think Ben is going to be very happy...not that he can DO anything about it

[darthdavid]

Simply stunning.

[LordShaithis]

This story actually makes Janeway badass! w00t!

PS: MORE!

[Stuart Mackey]

This story actually makes Janeway badass! w00t!

PS: MORE!

A fact that should make you revere Chuck as a god, for such a feat is truly devine.

[Sonnenburg]

This story actually makes Janeway badass! w00t!

PS: MORE!

A fact that should make you revere Chuck as a god, for such a feat is truly devine.

[Sonnenburg]

Dawn of Forever, Part VII


Civilizations rose and fell on a daily basis when taken on an average over a galaxy. Fifty thousand years ago, one such civilization fell. The world's name is now lost, except to a single group who, ironically, have no use for names. It wasn't a particularly noteworthy civilization; no more or less just than any other against the average of most worlds, although their achievements were in some ways greater than those of other worlds that failed to achieve space travel.

In fairness to the society, the failure to travel beyond their atmosphere wasn't due to scientific stupidity so much as a handicap. In fact, the inhabitants were capable of some quite amazing mental achievements, at least fifty percent anyway. The dominant species was born with a rather limited intelligence, nothing much beyond basic tool use. At the onset of puberty, hormones rushed through the body as they tend to throughout most advanced species, to promote changes and development. In the males, it promoted muscle growth. In the females, it promoted neurological growth. The result was an extreme disparity in strength and intelligence between the two genders, and while this might seem a recipe for an escalated battle of the sexes, it actually forced greater cooperation between them. The males lacked the brains to think beyond the next meal, and the females lacked the physical prowess to eat anything they couldn't pick up off the ground. Only in settlements where the males and females worked together did their species manage to thrive. The males did the hard work, and the females kept things properly coordinated. There was no caste system between them because the males were too stupid to organize one, and the females too smart to antagonize someone that could kill them with one hand.

But if the females were so intelligent, then why did they never learn how to leave their planet? Unfortunately, their forgotten world held little workable metal near the surface, and without ready amounts of copper, tin, iron, and zinc, there wasn't a great deal left for them to use. Stone, wood, shells were the materials they had to work with, and so the females of this world formed one of the most organized stone age societies in the galaxy. Of course, it wasn't perfect; they had their wars as much as anyone, there was corruption in expected amounts, but it wasn't really any more wicked than anyone else. Species are species.

Then the Borg came.

The females pooled their resources to coordinate a defense. The males fought hard, with 100-pound axes and bows that could put an arrow through a pine tree, but the Borg wanted them, and that meant that the resistance was, in the end, futile. The inhabitants became one with the Borg, and the next step in the Collective's evolution could begin.

The war with Species 01 had not only devestated the Borg's numbers, but also shown the futility of the single relay used to bring order to the chaos of so many minds. It was, upon further analysis, an Achille's Heel that in the wrong hands could be used to wipe out the Borg in one single attack... which is of course what had happened thousands of centuries after their homeworld was annihilated. The only alternative was to assign such tasks to individual drones for execution, but even the most intelligent specimens lacked the mental coordiantion it demanded, not to mention the great limitation in all Borg: the need to regenerate. With the coordination drone off line for even a few seconds, chaos would creep into the system, malfunctions would begin to occur, and total failure would eventually result. Multiple coordination drones were used, but this created extra overhead that put a severe limitation on the Borg's ability to function. For five hundred centuries, they did little in terms of exploration and expansion, but they continued to search for refinements to the process, so they could again move forward in the quest for perfection.

The newly-assimilated females were precisely what they needed. Their minds were perfectly-designed for organizing the high traffic the Borg Collective generated, and they were capable of retaining a degree of consciousness even while regenerating, which meant that the Borg could finally be coordinated by a single being. It was at that time that the new, expansionist era of the Borg truly began; they had all the strengths of the original relay without the weakness of it being turned against them, and if the "Queen" was somehow taken off line, others were available to resume operation without delay.

The last step was completed for these females. Their frail bodies were discarded; they were almost entirely mechanical now, giving them the physical strength they had never had before assimilation. But such a degree of automation requires constant maintenance to ensure peak efficiency, and the Borg demanded nothing less than peak efficiency. So, at this particular moment, in the present fifty thousand years after their assimilation, the Queen's head coordinated the recently reformed Collective while her body underwent maintenance.

Sebastian was observing the pursuit of the Mystral ship when the grate on the floor next to him opened and a platform rose upon it. It looked like a pair of knee-high boots until close examination noticed half a knee sticking out of the top. Two robotic arms lowered a thigh onto each, then a panel on the back wall opened and the torso was pushed out and dropped into position. The robotic arms returned with real arms this time, attaching them to the body. Finally, the Queen's head, metalic spine twisting to ensure perfect alignment upon merger, was dropped into position and connected to the body. She closed her eyes and breathed deeply through her nose, running a diagnostic on it to ensure the body was functioning properly.

The Queen stepped closer to where Sebastian was, to observe directly. She didn't need to, but it helped keep efficiency high when she directly perceived events. "Your effectiveness is impaired," she informed Sebastian.

"The apprehension of the Mystral -Rej Rej- must succeed," Sebastian answered.

"Your regeneration cycles have been interrupted repeatedly," the Queen observed. "It is interfering with your efficiency. Your inefficiency affects all."

"I agree," Sebastian said, because there was no alternative. Their thoughts were one. "I will regenerate, but it would be advisable if I were present for the capture of the Mystral."

"Yes," the Queen agreed. Sebastian turned and entered his nearby alcove, and the regeneration cycle began.
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Sebastian opened his eyes and smiled at what he saw. Gently, he ran the back of his hand down Jorri's cheek while she slept; she didn't stir. He laid there; he couldn't imagine anything better than watching her peaceful slumber. She was here, she was safe, and in the only sense that counted, she was real.

Still, it was going to be a busy day, and lying around wasn't going to change that, so he pulled himself up, got dressed, and found his way into the kitchen. The droids were already hard at work on the food and drinks for the get together that afternoon. Family was going to be there, and some people from the academy, a few friends... nothing too special, just a deviation from the norm. Sebastian glanced out the window; the weather service said it was supposed to rain, but Sebastian had a strong feeling the storm was going to show up after the party was long over. Somehow that's how things always worked.

A quick examination showed Morgan was gone; a note said she'd gone off for a morning swim. Sebastian sighed; as always it fell on him to make sure things were done properly. He went outside and started sweeping the leaves and fallen blossoms off the patio; there were only so many droids, and if the choice was trying to sweep and trying to stuff minced things into other things, Sebastian would force push people out of the way to get to the broom. Tables and chairs were wiped down, the power source in the sonic insect repellant was duly examined, and the traps were filled on the chemical dispenser to lower the pollen and mold count for those guests who suffered from allergies. He nodded at what he felt was a job well done and stepped back inside. As expected, now that the real work was done, Jorri was up, and as expected, working on straightening up things around the house despite the fact the party would be held completely outside. Gone was the sleeping princess, replaced by Mega-decorator, horror across the cosmos to those with bad backs. Sebastian hid out in his meditation room to avoid the carnage.

The morning passed with the dull tone that always happens when you know you don't have the time to do anything because of what's coming up later, but later is so long from now that you're tempted to try. Eventually zero hour arrived and the guests started showing up. Morgan finally returned as well, accompanied by Ryan. Sebastian was pleased to see the two settle onto a bench on the perimeter of the patio, which gave them a nice view of the hills. It was good to see her involved with someone in a personal way for a change.

The droids were distributing snacks and drinks as Jorri came and sat down beside Sebastian. "It looks like the weather's going to hold," she remarked.

Sebastian smiled. "Yes, I think it will."
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The sky was orange and black over the city of Bur Illia; the fires were nearly out by now, but the air still stank of heat and char. This wasn't the city itself, though; it was the outskirts, hastily constructed shelters. Everywhere was the sound of screaming.

The room is stacked wall to wall with bed's. Here are the radiation victims; despite the advanced medical technology their doses were beyond what could be treated. They wouldn't last much longer, but that was probably merciful. Many were covered head to toe in burns, and there wasn't going to be enough bacta to treat one percent of all those who cried out in agony. Others had been shielded from the worst of it, only to breathe in the choking mix of vaporized contaminants and toxins. They struggled weakly, fighting for each breath into their scarred lungs. Then there were rows and rows of lacerations and broken bones, soft tissue injuries and concussions, and those who would need to replace a hand or foot or eye.

And then, of course, there were the dead, housed in a makeshift morgue. It looked more like a warehouse, and what was horrifying was the pile of bodies outside the doors, because the building was full and the next one hadn't been put up yet.

Millions were dead, and millions more were going to die. For those who managed to pull through, the pain and horror would create scars beyond the reach of any surgeon. The burning remnants of Bur Illia would be abandoned and its survivors dispersed elsewhere across the world. The Empire would arrive with a full relief force within a few hours; they'd help mitigate the damage. The Emperor would give a speech de-crying the Mystral for this latest act of terrorism, and pledging to bring an end to their assaults on innocent civilians. The people listened, and believed him, and to Korri Rej's shame, for once the Empire was right.

Rej woke up and saw the tunnel of hyperspace before her. She didn't have the dream very often any more, but it always left her shaken. Bur Illia had been four years ago; she'd been rather low-ranking among the Mystral at the time. It had been a fluke, but somehow that word seemed wrong in describing that kind of tragedy.

There was an Imperial military base on the edge of Bur Illia, which was nothing unusual. The Mystral always tried to perform surgical strikes in their war against the Empire, although collateral damage was often inevitable. The base at Bur Illia was an important junction point, with high security and strong defenses. Rej had teamed up with a slicer to breach that security, something that hadn't been managed before. Because of this, she was given the chance to plan and lead the raid on the base. As was usually the case, this was all about sabotage: destroy as much Imperial equipment as possible. Because of her intimacy with the base's security, Rej stayed in a cloaked ship to control things from there.

Rej had been the one who delayed the raid an hour while a ship was diverted to the base for refueling. It was important to the Empire, so smashing it would be good for the cause. She waited, then took control of the security system and used it against the Imperials. Her squad went in, working by the numbers as always. They hit the docking bay; there were more guards there then usual, but with Rej controlling the automated defenses, they were soon wiped out. It was the work of seconds to hook up the usual charges to all the ships, and bolted so Rej could remote detonate them. What they didn't know was that the cargo on board the ship was an experimental micro-hypermatter reactor. The explosion set it off.

The Imperial engineers weren't stupid; they'd designed the reactor with failsafes. When the reactor was breached the energy was projected into hyperspace, otherwise the whole planet would have gone up. Unfortunately, the work was only near perfect, not absolutely perfect. Less than a fraction of a percent of the explosion was released, but it was enough for a multi-megaton explosion. The base was instantly vaporized. The entire city was affected by the size of the blast. Rej only survived because she was in orbit over the planet at the time. None of the Mystral blamed her for what happened; there'd been no indication of what was on board, so the affair was dismissed as a tragic accident. Rej went on to rise through the ranks; her team, wiped out in the explosion, were listed among the casualties of war. She switched over from electronic infiltration to front-line work, though; she didn't want to watch things from a chair any more... she didn't want to sit back and listen as the women under her command died.

The ship dropped back into real space. A quick scan confirmed Rej's fear. "Borg cube," she said through her teeth. "They have to have a homing beacon, they have too!"

"We've swept the ship half a dozen times, Korri," Lian said. "The droids have checked everywhere-"

"They're not finding us by magic!" Rej snapped.

"Korri," Lian said as diplomatically as she could, "they've chased us across the galaxy. I don't think we're going to give them the slip. The Borg are too well coordinated-"

"I know, I know!" Rej snapped. She still hadn't taken control of the ship back from Lian yet, and for a moment the co-pilot wondered what was going through her head. Finally Rej switched on the navicomputer, except this time with a bit more concentration. "We're going to have to find a safe harbor," she said, mostly to herself. "Drellis... that sounds promising."

"Never heard of it," Lian said. "And what if the Borg figure out that's where we're going?"

"It won't matter," Rej said, taking the controls back. "I've got a plan; trust me on this. All my girls are making it home."

[Ghost Rider]

Great interlude, I enjoyed the beginning and the lead up to your next part.

Fantastic work here .

[Star Empire]

Great chapter. I loved your story about the Borg Queen's orgins.

[Chris OFarrell]

Damnit Chuck, you just keep it comming.....

[Crazedwraith]

Verg good. Like the Queen and Mystral back stories.

[darthdavid]

Ahhh, cyber crack.

[Sonnenburg]

Part VIII


Drellis, a blue-grey world within the domain of the Empire's Milky Way territory; no more or less important than thousands of similar worlds throughout known space. Most of the population lived their entire lives here, and why not, most weren't more than a generation or two from the original settlers that had come through the wormhole. After several decades, it had gone from failed Malon colony to established Imperial world, with all of the expected comforts and industries and the usual traffic of starships.

The two new arrivals were anything but usual.

In the lead was a small, heavily-armed freighter named Shadow's Edge, a Mystral ship that had been part of numerous raids on Imperial ships, and most recently, a chase across the galaxy. The chase was still on, as seen by the Borg cube that had emerged from hyperspace shortly after its arrival.

Korri Rej, the Mystral at the controls and top of the list of Milky Way raiders the Empire was after, slapped off the comm unit as the Borg repeated their standard hail for the umpteenth time. She hauled on the controls and the ship peeled away towards Drellis itself. Lian, the co-pilot and her closest friend, clung to her chair despite the straps. "What are you doing?" she asked as the planet soon filled the screen. "You can't land here; they'll catch us before we set down."

"We're not landing," Rej said, despite the evidence to the contrary.

"Then what's the idea?" Lian asked. "You can't jump to hyperspace this close to the planet." The ship shuddered at a near miss from the Borg's ion cannon.

"Get to the escape pods," Rej ordered. "Then wait for my signal."

Lian was aghast. "We're not leaving you to the Borg's tender mercies," she insisted.

"They've chased us across most of the galaxy," Rej said. "We're not going to shake 'em using the tricks in the Mystral handbook. I have one or two others, but I want the rest of you somewhere safe."

"Korri-"

"There's about half a billion people living on that world," Rej said, ignoring her. "Lots of humans. Once you hit you can slip into the crowds, disappear. Finding a way off shouldn't be too difficult."

"Then come with us," Lian said. "If the Borg catch you, they'll turn you over to the Empire, and that's a death sentence."

"The Borg will just intercept the escape pods," Rej said. "We need a diversion, and that's my job."

"Korri-" Lian tried again.

"No more discussion," Rej said sharply. "Into the escape pods, now." Lian hesitated, but only for a second before she headed for the cockpit door. "Remember, wait for my signal." Lian nodded and slipped out.

Borg energy rays hummed near the freighter as the Shadow's Edge twisted and banked towards the planet. The cube accelerated after it, but the ship continued to bank and twist like crazy. It twisted up until it was nearly skipping along the top of the atmosphere, then lurched as three escape pods blasted off the side towards the planet's surface. The cube was about to adjust course to snatch the pods with a tractor beam when the Shadow's Edge raced back away from the planet.

A convoy had been approaching Drellis before the Borg-Mystral drama had intruded on the system. Large transport ships, flanked by a few smaller escort vessels, were just about in position when the Shadow's Edge raced up and launched some proton torpedoes at one of the transports. The escorts immediately moved to intercept, but the freighter slid over to drop a second pair at a different transport. These weren't armored vessels, and the torpedoes penetrated and blew out some of the bays, causing the shreds of the cargo to blow out into space.

The decision took a millisecond to complete as the Borg observed this behavior. It was clearly a diversionary tactic to distract them from the escape pods. However, the life readings indicated that Korri Rej was on board the ship, not the pods. The cube diverted course and followed the primary target; the escape of Mystral underlings was as unimportant as the damage done to the transports.

Rej cursed in several languages as she broke away from the planet. The escort ships weren't interested in taking her alive like the Borg were, which kept things even more off balance. The cube was approaching quickly as well; of course, that had been the plan, but it didn't mean Rej had to like it. She was at full throttle, but the Borg launched an interdictor torpedo before she could reach a safe point to jump to lightspeed.

It was the point where her luck had finally run out.

A blast by one of the escort vessels clipped the Shadow's Edge, causing it to veer out of Rej's control. It spun straight into the waiting grip of the Borg's tractor beam. Rej yanked and punched at the console in a desperate effort to escape, but it was obviously -she grimaced at the word- futile. The cube sped off with her in tow, shielding the freighter from further assault by the pursuing escort ships until Rej saw the bay appear in the side of the cube. She tried firing weapons at it, but they bounced harmlessly off the shields. Snarling, she left the cockpit, grabbed her blaster from the rack, and took a seat facing the loading ramp. If the Borg wanted her, they'd be climbing over piles of bodies to get her.
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Immediately upon the capture of Korri Rej, the Queen altered her cube's course to rendezvous with the vessel. It was a mere two hours away, which left little time for due consideration. Despite her previous remarks, it would be prudent to deal with the Mystral prisoner together. She touched a panel on the outside of the alcove, and Sebastian's regeneration cycle began to wind down.
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Sebastian stiffened almost imperceptibly, and his eyes shifted around. Finally he tapped Jorri on the shoulder. "I have to go," he said.

"What, already?" she asked with some surprise.

"I'm sorry, but all of a sudden I'm feeling exhausted." He yawned like a lion. "I'm afraid if I don't walk now you'll be carrying me."

"All right, if it's what you want," Jorri said without accusation.

"I am sorry," he said. "I'll make it up to you tomorrow, I promise."

"Don't worry about it, I mean it. You've been probably overdoing it lately, and your body is telling you things you're too stupid to figure out yourself." Sebastian kissed her, then got up and headed for the house.
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Morgan watched with the kind of rapt attention normally associated with predators as her father broke away from the group and headed towards the house. "Something's wrong." She didn't say it, but she thought it so loudly that Ryan, sitting next to her, was able to sense it.

"Maybe he's just tired," he offered.

"He's been 'just tired' a lot lately," Morgan said, eyes still fixed upon Sebastian. "I don't like it. Something's going on."

"I don't sense anything wrong," Ryan said.

"That may be, but that doesn't mean all is right either." Morgan duly catalogued the pros and cons, filtered it through some human judgment, and reached a decision. "I have to go."

"I'm sure it's nothing," Ryan said.

"But I'm not," Morgan said. "And I'm afraid it's my opinion that counts on this."
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Overriding the lock on the ramp hadn't taken long, and the Borg had started up towards Rej. She took careful aim and fired a blaster bolt center of mass; the drone crumpled. The one behind him did so as well. Rej waited, but there was no third, not right away. She sat back and waited, her grip on the blaster only tightening as time passed. Soon she heard the sound of clattering around the hull of the ship; were they going to try to rush her from several directions? But that would be-

There was a hum and the lights all blinked out. They'd terminated the ship's power; no lights, no sensors... no jamming equipment. The darkness gave way to the dim interior of the Borg cube as she was transported away. She got off a shot that only managed to hit a wall before two drones grabbed her arms; the blaster was pulled from her grip with disappointing ease. They dragged her forward despite her best efforts and deposited her face-first onto a table; less a table than a bench, actually. Rej couldn't help but notice the drains on it. She struggled even more madly, but drones held her down; one hand on the wrist, one on the shoulder, was all it took. She kicked savagely, but that didn't seem to matter. She screamed at them, the usual gibberish about them having no right, but in truth it was just so she could have something to scream. Being helpless enraged her, and the fact she couldn't lash out properly intensified it.

Rej felt someone lifting her hair off, exposing the back of her neck. She felt the satisfying thump as a kick caught a drone who had strayed too close, but it was only a moral victory, since she was just as hopelessly pinned as before. She tried twisting her head to avoid whatever they were doing, but a drone grabbed it. It was a vise-like grip, tight and unyielding in the slightest. She felt something being attached to the back of her head, and having run out of even gibberish she just screamed in frustrated rage. Then their work was done.

Rej's mouth hung open in silence and her eyes bugged out. She had no control any more; she could hear the whispers, not loud enough to be understood, but close enough to be heard. They were all around her, everywhere, above and below even, even.... even inside. She tried not to think about the secrets she knew; it had been a strong part of her training, to help resist telepathic intrusion. No telepath could dig like the Borg instrument, but Rej had bottomless resources of hate to call on.
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"Her resistance is considerable," the Queen remarked. "The little data we can absorb is fragmented, and little is of any real use."

"Only full assimilation would allow us to learn what she knows," Sebastian agreed. "But that would jeopardize our relations with the Empire."

"Agreed, although this limitation hampers our efficiency," the Queen observed. "Would she succumb to torture or brainwashing?"

"Unlikely," Sebastian said. "She is strong-willed, and the Mystral have likely trained her to resist such methods as well. If we had her companions, she may be compelled to cooperate."

"Yes." The Queen was silent as they tapped into the communications relays. "The Drellis authorities have found the escape pods, but they have lost the occupants. Minimal chance of recovery."

"Then we should inform Romal the Attorney," Sebastian said, "that Korri Rej be dealt with by Imperial Law."
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Admiral Tyrine could arguably called the most powerful man in the Milky Way, although it was a power some would consider abhorrent. He was not only the commander of the only remaining Eclipse-class star destroyer in the Imperial fleet, he also had been given the power to fire its ultimate weapon on his own discretion. It goes without saying that if you're going to place the power to annihilate whole worlds in the hands of a single individual, you had best hope the owner of the hands could handle it. Grand Moff Tarkin couldn't... the man instigated the largest anti-Imperial movement since the onset of the Empire by blowing up Alderaan, and what was worse were the rumors that he'd planned to use the Death Star against the Emperor himself to usurp control. And when the Emperor got ahold of the second Death Star, he'd immediately let it go to his head.

Tyrine frowned. And then he'd returned after being thought dead, and changed. Tyrine'd seen him at the christening of the Shade, the second of three Eclipses he'd ordered after the establishment on Chandrilla. It was almost with a sense of distaste, as if he regretted having built it. And he had only ordered its deployment on a handful of occassions during the war with the Vong... Maybe it was because he didn't go onto the ships himself. They said that the Empress became more and more inclined to deploy the superlaser despite her original opposition to the Eclipses.

Taar kept on top of things, though. While he'd given Tyrine authority to fire, a report always had to be submitted detailing why he'd felt it necessary. Taar had also given him a list of primary, secondary, and tertiary targets within all of the independent governments, no doubt to ensure only proper military targets were destroyed. He had the feeling that depite the war effort, Taar was keeping one eye on the Milky Way, and that if he felt Tyrine ever crossed the line, a quick change of command would be in order. And what could Tyrine do? Use it against Taar like Tarkin? He'd joined up to serve and protect the Empire, not blast bits of it into asteroids. No, he had to ensure that the authority didn't go to his head, or there was a chance he'd lose the authority, and possibly also the head.

"Admiral," the captain said as the ship dropped out of hyperspace, "we're within range. Shall we prepare a firing solution?"

Tyrine looked at the distant dot; it was next to impossible to tell what it was from here, but he knew from reports it was Nillan, one of the larger Kazon worlds and also the likely source of their recent attack on the Empire. The Kazon were always a little slow; most worlds had realized that the Empire meant business when the Malon planet was blown up, but some were just stupid enough to think armageddon was something that happened to other people. "Yes, captain," he said, hoping in a small way it didn't sound gleeful or callous. It was his duty, he had to remember that.

A lieutenant spoke up from a nearby control station before anyone could move. "Sir, there's heavy jamming in the area."

"Visual scanning," Tyrine said. A Kazon ambush? If so, they were even dumber than he'd thought. Their entire fleet could maybe defeat a single star destroyer, but against an Eclipse and it's escort it'd be slaughter.

"There, sir," an officer quickly said, and indicated on the holographic display. "There's a fleet approaching... fifty vessels."

"Kazon?" Tyrine asked quickly.

"No, unknown type."

Fifty ships... fifty Kazon vessels were a joke, but fifty heavy warships would probably be enough to destroy the fleet. There was no need to take chances. "Alert all commands," he said, "we're proceeding to our secondary target."

"Admiral," the captain said, "looks like a gravity shadow is holding us here."

"DIT," Tyrine ordered. He watched the torpedo streak out towards the approaching ships, then power down and explode. It only did that against two types of targets: an interdictor torpedo, or a Vong gravity well. That at least settled who they were up against. "All batteries, open fire," he ordered. "Prepare a firing solution on the assailants with the superlaser and fire when ready." Coralships were tough, they couldn't risk holding back.

But they weren't coralships, as the two fleets closed with one another, Tyrine could finally see them clearly, and if they were Vong, they were like nothing they'd ever used before. These weren't flying rocks... they looked almost like giant remora with bony exoskeletons, covered with spines like an urchin. They were only about half the size of an Imperator, but their numbers would likely make up for the size difference, unless the Vong had desperately thrown third string ships against them. The superlaser found its target, which exploded in a cloud of vapor and some kind of shrapnel that played hell with the other ships, but they kept on coming, and recharge time meant they'd only get maybe one more shot, at most. The turbolasers weren't having the same luck; they were chewing through the "hull," but it was slow going compared to the usual damage to a coralship. Tyrine ground his teeth; these weren't the third string, these were something new. "Which one is the interdictor?" he asked, but the jamming was proving too much. It was also clear the Vong -if it was the Vong- were able to match them shot for shot. One of the escorting star destroyers was already burning in space.

"Alert all commands to disperse and withdraw," he ordered. Immediately the ships broke off their attack and raced in different directions. The Vong couldn't stop all of them, which meant the Empire could be warned about whatever this new menace was. However, it was quickly apparent that that wouldn't include Admiral Tyrine. The enemy ships converged on the flagship and blasted away at it. The Imperials returned fire, blowing ship after ship away, but whoever was piloting them seemed to have no concern about their own safety. Slowly but steadily, the final Eclipse was blasted into pieces until the reactor was breached with the expected results. Two more enemy ships were lost in the explosion, but again this fact seemed beneath notice. The ships merely gathered the salvage of their own vessels and departed.

On Nillan, the Kazon watched the whole thing with equal amounts of adulation and confusion over their saviors.

[consequences]

Holy crapfest Batman!

And so, the last Phallic Compensator fell, unmourned by enemy and friend alike.

What kind of unholy nightmare can tear apart an Eclipse like that anyway? And why would an ISD even slow them down?

[Star Empire]

Very Good. Can't wait to learn about how they are.

[darthdavid]

Whoever they are I hope they don't have very many of those ships...

[Crazedwraith]

Youch, very nice.