Star Trek/Star Wars: The Best of Both Worlds

[Kartr_Kana]

But the physical cause was not child birth she was in perfect physical health at the time. Now I can see why the queen would infer that the cause was child birth since that was what she was doing when she died. So I will withdraw my complaint since the Naboo lacked full information of the circumstances surrounding Amidala's death.

Wait for it; He's coming and soon...

Thank you JME2!!!!

Btw it is Kartr not Katar.

[JME2]

Btw it is Kartr not Katar.

Sorry 'bout that; it won't happen again...

[JME2]

I'm sorry for the delays guys, I really am. We all know that time of the year, the time where your life is consumed by work for your classes. Exams, portfolios, projects -- there were times over the last month that I felt like I was going mad (if there was any question as to whether or not I already was... )

So, here we are, a month since the last update. My life and work load is somewhat coming down to quasi-normal levels, so it's a big relief for me. With levels as they are, I'm going to attempt an update in the next few days to week; this has priority over Yesterdays and Tomorrows since, well, it's a time for Star Wars, after all.

So, until then, let me offer you up my possible signatures for the summer:

[Kartr_Kana]

top sig. Cannot wait for the next installment!!

[JME2]

After almost two months of inactivity, I'm back in the game. In the words of Austin Powers, "Yeah baby!!" So siot back and enjoy...

[JME2]

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

Spoiler Warning: This chapter contains possible spoilers for the novels “Labyrinth of Evil” and “Articles of the Federation” (ironically, no ROTS spoilers this time).

As always, enjoy.

***

Act II, Part VIII

“Confidence, like the soul, never returns, whence it has departed.”--

Publius Syrus --

***

Location: Starfleet Intelligence
Earth, Alpha Quadrant, Milky Way Galaxy

As the familiar transporter effect faded, Riker found himself in an unassuming briefing room of the Starfleet Intelligence division. Though not as spacious or as seemingly advanced as its Command counterpart, the Tactical Preparation Theater, it belied one of the oldest beliefs in the history of intelligence gathering and spying – the more inconspicuous and unassuming, the better.

“Welcome, Commander Riker.”

Admirals Uhura, Janeway, and Ross were seated at the head of the table. Alongside them were several other Starfleet officers and officials. Based on the seating, Riker could see that the presence of several was due to the use of holo-communicators.

The holo-communicator had been a realtivly recent, though never widespread, advance in the Federation’s communications and holographic programs. It allowed two parties to converse as if in the same room by sending holograms of each other courtesy of projectors installed in the floor.

Among the transmitting officers, Riker was slightly shocked to recognize his old mentor Captain deSoto of the Excelsior-class U.S.S. Hood and the infamous Captain Solok of the Nebula-class T’Kumbra. Riker couldn’t help but wonder why they were being included in this meeting; the Hood and T’Kumbra were both on patrol along the Neutral Zone.

That in turn brought up a valid point: why was he here? This type of meeting was for top brass only, after all. It was probable that, with Captain Picard leading the Federation delegation, his status as the de facto commander of the flagship necessitated his presence here. Before he could give this train of thought his full attention, Admiral Uhura began this meeting.

“You all know each other, so the need for introductions isn’t necessary.”

She paused for a moment, then continued.

“Before we proceed any further, I must remind you that this data is all classified and you are forbidden to speak of it. Is that understood?”

“Yes,” they all replied. Uhura nodded in satisfaction.

“The purpose of this briefing is a mission of which the security of the Federation may be at stake. But is not related to the Yuuzhan Vong, at least not directly. Our first order of business falls to Commander Riker. What is the status of the Enterprise refit?”

This reinforced his thought process from earlier he noted briefly before replying.

“Repairs to the Enterprise-E are proceeding nominally. The main damage to the superstructure has been all but repaired and we’re currently restocking men, weapons and supplies. At our current rate of repair in conjunction with Earth Station McKinley, we should be operational and back on the front lines in another week at least.”

“Hmm. Good, good. That leads directly into our next item – the Enterprise’s current command structure.”

Commander Riker blinked, bad memories of the dressing down he had received from Command in the aftermath of the Pegasus recovery returning.

“What about the Enterprise’s command structure?”

Admiral Ross held up a PADD and slid it across the surface of the table towards the XO, who quickly perused its contents.

“As that PADD indicates, command of the U.S.S. Enterprise-E is hereby temporarily transferred to Admiral Janeway.”

Riker looked back at the admirals in confusion.

“Well, then, what exactly do you have planned for me?”

“Commander Riker, your delayed promotion to the rank of Captain is hereby effective immediately. You will take command of the U.S.S. Titan before the week is out.”

***

Location: 500 Republica
Coruscant, That Galaxy Far, Far Away

A veritable perch atop the vast summit that was the upper levels of Coruscant, 500 Republica had long been the stomping grounds of the elite and privileged. Since the time of the Old Republic, politicians, dignitaries, and celebrities had all made their home in a building that was second only to the Imperial Palace and the original Senate building in terms of its fame.

Despite her status as Kuat’s representative to the Senate, Shesh maintained quarters both at the Embassy and here; a gesture of keeping her feet in both worlds, as some had seen it – and which also described her relationship with the Yuuzhan Vong.

The Senator was this morning overlooking the vast sea of space-scrapers and schools of freighters moving through the every-congested atmospheric lanes. Her attention, however, was less focused on the traffic and more so on a data pad she was reading from. The data and words that scrolled across the interface screen were less than pleasant for her and she gave a sigh a frustration.

“Well?”

The question had been addressed to her by a middle-aged human male sitting behind her in one of her viewing chairs. Like her, he too was tapping into a data pad. The doorman knew him as Pedric Cuff, a reasonably successful businessman who begun his trade on Muunulist and had made his way into the Core since. But for those that continued to participate in the galactic conflict, he was known by quite a different name, one that was cursed on both sides of the war effort.

Nom Anor.

Despite his culture’s fascination – some would say obsession – with death and sacrifice, it was an ideal that Nom Anor did not exactly uphold. Why sacrifice himself for the cause when his unique and valuable talents could be used again and again? To that end, he had made careful to rig his personal transporter for an immediate return signal when he had beamed over to offer the location of Ben Skywalker to Tsavong Lah.

Had he not, he would have surely died when the Sunulok had fallen victim to the infidel thalaron weapon. After laying low in the aftermath of the second failed Vong offensive into Fed space, he had snuck aboard Shesh’s shuttle just before she had made the jump back to Coordinates 000. They had spent much of the trip back discussing their next moves. This was, after all, a critical point in the galactic game of dejarik and with each step came the ultimate risk for the ultimate prize.

Unfortunately, her own plans had not gone according to, well, plan. In fact, the last twelve hours had been a nightmare for her. An elite Yuuzhan Vong team had hijacked, but failed to make off with the Federation delegation and had ended up crashing into Reception Hall. Worse, Starfleet’s foiling of the operation had led to a massive PR boost for the UFP among Republic citizens.

And now this, she thought, her eyes scrolling across the electronic Aurabesh.

If the Conference for the Ratification of the Articles of Alliance didn’t begin in less than two hours, she was tempted to do like the common folk and lowly people and knock back a few at the Golden Cuff, the posh bar favored by Senators and their aides since the days of the Old Republic.

“Fey’lya’s condition has stabilized,” she said at last. “He’s recovered enough to preside over the openings of the summit, but only barely.”

The Executor simply shrugged at the news.

“We’ll worry about that later.”

“Are you certain?

“I studied Fey’lya longer than you think and in his actions in the next few hours, will lie opportunity. If not, then another opportunity will present itself and I have an idea or two in mind of not only what it will be, but how we can exploit it. In the meantime, what is the status on the anti-ratification groups?”

“Ready to unite under a single banner. In addition to myself, I can confirm the presence of Rodan, Pwoe, and Niuk Niuv from the Advisory Council.”

“As was to be expected.”

“Hmm. I can also name several dozen Senators opposed to such a ratification, from Praestilyn and Corellia to Cato Nemodia and Empress Teta.”

“We will require more if you wish to drive a stake through this talk of alliance.”

“I’m working on that. That actually leads into the other piece of news.”

“Oh?”

“Less than an hour ago, your people hit New Plympto.”

Situated between the worlds Jumus and Duro and on the Corellian Trade Spine, New Plympto was a prosperous world, enjoying many benefits from the trade industry and from the nearby Duro and Corellia. Many species had set up various colonies all over the planet and the world was a peaceful one.

“I believe we hit New Plympto months ago,” he stated wryly.

That was correct; the Vong had occupied the planet just as the Durro operation had commenced . What surprised Shesh was Nom Anor’s response, that a Yuuzhan Vong could have a sense of humor. Too much time spent among the denizens of the galaxy, she speculated.

“You now what I mean.”

“Hmm. How bad?”

“Your people unleashed a biological toxin into its atmosphere, a similar one to that which was detonated over Ithor. The planet’s been rendered uninhabitable and only a few meager thousand escaped in time.”

“The price of resistance,” he replied, making reference to how the occupations of Garqi, Dathomir, and Bimmisaari among others had inspired New Plympto’s guerilla rebellion.

“A tragedy, yes. That is how it will come off sounding in the Senate – unless it were pushed in another direction, specifically the direction of Naboo and its little wormhole, too.”

The Executor nodded his head in agreement.

“Yes, that could prove to be quite the opening volley. Speaking of Naboo, I have an idea related to that world, but that will depend on how the initial session opens – and I have faith in you to do so, Senator.”

“Senator Shesh?”

The voice of the doorman suddenly emanated from the comm.system built into her suite’s walls. Shesh glanced at Anor for a moment before pressing the reply switch.

“Yes, what is it?”

“Landing Bay 24 reports that your personal transport is ready for departure to the Senate Building.”

“I will be down momentarily.”

“Understood.”

As the channel closed, Shesh turned her attention back to the Executor.

“Time to get to work, then.”

The Executor nodded

“We will meet back at the designated time, then. I have…contacts to pursue. Just because I am no longer welcome among my people does not mean I won’t utilize my other resources.”

Shesh wondered briefly if he spoke of the Peace Brigade. A loose band of survivors and converters, the Peace Brigade had been a growing thorn in the Republic’s side, urging surrender and appeasement to the enemy and assisting in military operations, such as the assault on the Jedi praxeum on Yavin 4 six months prior. The inspiration for the Peace Brigade had come from numerous terrorist and militia groups from the galaxy’s past, from the Rebel Alliance itself to Nebula Front, the organization that had proven to be quite the thorn in the long-defunct Trade Federation. And it was no secret that Anor had had a hand in its formation

But there was time for that later. They had an Alliance to destroy.

***

Location: U.S.S. Defiant
Gamma Quadrant, Milky Way Galaxy

One of the things that had always annoyed Odo about the original Defiant was the lack of a suitable meeting room. The best the ‘escort frigate’ had to offer was either the situation table based at the back of the bridge or the mess hall. And though he had only been on board the Sao Paulo briefly before returning to the Great Link, the same flaw had made it onto the Defiant’s descendent.

Thus, he found himself slightly irritable as he sat in the secure Mess Hall of their task force’s sole Starfleet vessel. The meeting consisted of himself, Chakotay, and Axum. Taran’tar had very much wished to fulfill his duty as First and attend this meeting, but Odo and the Vorta had both commanded him to oversee the repairs to Attack Vessel 1607. Weyoun in turn had been ordered to stay updated on the Dominion comm. traffic and any developments in the conflict, developments that he was preparing to present to his allies.

“…regeneration cycle is almost finished,” Axum was saying. “We’ll have the transwarp coil warmed up in less than another day.”

“Repairs to the Defiant are also nearly complete,” Chakotay reported. Odo nodded in agreement.

“Good. Before beaming over, Weyoun and I conversed with several other Vorta commanders and Founders. Attacks are resuming and these renegade ex-Borg are now penetrating Dominion territory far deeper and faster than anticipated. Their goal appears to be here,” he said, holding up the PADD used by Dominion administrators. Odo indicated a map of Dominion territory, one far more detailed than what Starfleet had been able to acquire in the pre-war years.

“We will proceed to these coordinates,” he said, indicating the sequence of numbers that, with a tap of the display, scrolled across everyone’s PADD.

“This is Planetary System 5002-K, also known as the Colebi’k system. It’s one of the key Jem’Hadar installations and locales in the entire Dominion. Shipbuilding, refueling, weapons factories, hatcheries – it’s all here in one form or another.”

“I take it the Founders or the Firsts wouldn’t willingly part with that kind of information,” Chakotay said.

“The others, no, but I as you know I lack their distrust of the Solids.”

“If the system were to fall,” Axum asked, “would it mean the fall of the Dominion?”

“Not immediately, but as I said, the Colebi’k system is one of the crown jewels in the Dominion’s crown. Take Colebi’k and this would truly set the Dominion on the road to ruin.”

“Hmm. Then they must be stopped.”

“I agree,” Chakotay said, turning to face Axum. ““At transwarp velocities, how soon could we be at Colebi’k?”

“An hour, maybe more.”

“Then we’re all in agreement? All right then; to Colebi’k we go. ”

As the meeting adjourned and Axum departed for the transporter bay, Chakotay noticed that Odo stayed in place, gazing at the display panels set into the wall of the Defiant’s mess hall.

“Is something wrong, Constable?”

Odo shook his head, his eyes still fixed on the Starfleet ODN pannels.

“I simply find it ironic. For five years, my people tried to destroy the Federation and now our fate may rest in its hands.”

A small smile spread across Chakotay’s mouth as he leaned against one the bulkheads.

“I felt the same way when Voyager first encountered Species 8472. We had an opportunity to let the most powerful force in our neck of the woods to fall and what did we do? We ended up aiding them.”

“Yet by doing so, you set into motion the Collective’s disintegration four years later,” Odo pointed out,

“But we also were responsible for your current situation. If we hadn’t freed Seven of Nine or aided Unimatrix Zero or destroyed the Transwarp hub…”

Chakotay trailed off, a sense of guilt that he hadn’t felt since Seska had been revealed as an Obsidian Order agent threatening to overtake them. He had first felt this current bout when DS9 had received the data from the first Vong attack on Sector 001 and this recent battle was only making it worse.

He suddenly felt a hand on his shoulder, cutting through his thoughts like a knife through air and found Odo beside him, the Changeling's eyes looking at him as if he was looking into his soul.

“It’s alright, Commander. I know how you feel; I’ve gone through it time and again since I first found my people. The ripples of life are impossible to predict. All we can do is face these ripples together, united in a way previously though impossible my people. If you also want a word of my advice speak with Dax; it does wonders for the mind.”

Chakotay smiled slightly at that.

“She also says you’ve always been more of a cynic than a philosopher.”

“It’s Jadzia’s bias against me,” Odo replied, smirking slightly. Both of them chuckled, the tension fading as quickly as it had settled into the mess hall.

“Well then, to Colebi’k we go?”

“To Colebi’k.”

***

So, that was it then. Their destination was the Colebi’k system – just as she had planned from the beginning. The earlier distress over the Founder’s miraculous save was now replaced with the confidence and reassurance of many as everything was now back on schedule. Soon, it would be time to call to her children, time to call them to the galactic stage and execute the first step of the endgame.

But first, there was a loose end from tomorrow that needed to be tied up…

***

Location: Errant Venture
Outer Rim Territories, That Galaxy Far, Far Away

“Absolutely not.”

“A bet is a bet.”

“I told you before; the lift system has been on the fritz since our little excursion into the Yavin system six months ago.”

“And my mother’s a Kowakian lizard monkey. Face it Booster; you’re getting old. Now pay up.”

Terrik grumbled into his custom-synthfleece jacket as he pulled out a credit chip and handed it to Lando. Though the first Rule of Acquisition was valid here, Quark barely noticed this exchange; he was too busy gazing around the docking bay. The runabout pads back on the station didn’t even begin to compare to this.

“So, you’re Quark, right?”

Terrik had turned his attention to their guest. The Ferengi nodded, his finely-honed businessman and showmanship skills starting up.

“Owner and proprietor of Quark’s Bar, Grill, Holosuite Arcade, and Gaming Establishment at your service. My card,” he said, withdrawing a business card from his sleeve. Faster than the eye could see, if he recalled the hew-mon phrase correctly.

Terrik inspected the card, though he was unable to decipher the Ferengi symbols emblazoned on the high quality paper – a rarity given both its limited production and Ferenginar’s rather wet climate. Thank Gint for Replicators…

“Well then, we should meet with the others.”

“Are we still waiting on anyone?” Lando asked as they began walking out of the docking bay and into the Star Destroyer’s corridors, Quark following.

“Just Karrde. I thought you were with him on the other side of the ‘hole.”

“Uh, well we kind of got separated. He might have stopped at Wriggley’s Pleasure Planet or Riza --”

“Risa,” Quark couldn’t help but point out.

“What’s a Riza?”

“Vacation planet; very popular among visitors to the Alpha Quadrant ,” Quark replied. Booster’s omnipresent scowl deepened.

“Great. Everyone else gets a vacation except me,” the old smuggler grumbled. Quark decided to change the subject.

“So, this vessel used to belong to the Empire, right?”

“Yeah,” Terrik stated proudly, never hesitating to boast about his mighty vessel whether it be in a wasteland cantina or the halls of power – especially if it lifted him out of a bad mood. “I acquired it through Rogue Squadron back during the Bacta War.”

“So, you essentially stole it from its legitimate owners?”

Terrik nodded, yet his eyes narrowed at Quark’s querry.

“You have a problem with that?”

“Not at all.”

Laughing, Terrik slapped the Ferengi barkeep’s back, then turned to Calirissian.

“I like him already.”

They continued down the hallways as Booster continued explaining the Errant Venture’s capabilities and current mission – excluding, of course, their role in the Yavin 4 mission earlier that year.

“We’re a mobile operation. Smuggling is down because of the war, but that doesn’t mean we aren’t still in -- ”

“Bridge to Captain Terrik,” spurted the personal comlink on Booster’s belt, cutting into his conversation with Lando and Quark. Terrik grumbled again before picking up and replying into the device.

“Terrik here. Go ahead.”

“A medium sized freighter just dropped out of hyperspace.”

“Scan it.”

“Already have. It’s the Wild Karrde. She’s hailing us.”

“Put it through to my personal commlink.”

“One moment.”

A momentary burst of static was replaced by the swaggering voice of the man who many had considered to be the successor to the title of underworld kingpin left by Jabba the Hutt following his death at the Battle of Carkoon.

“Booster, you reading me?”

“Loud and clear. Where in the hells have you been?”

“Oh, running an errand or two to run here and there. Nothing too serious. So, everyone’s assembled, then?”

“Yes; we’re all waiting for you, Talon.”

“Then we’ll dock momentarily. Oh, and Booster?”

“What?”

“Bet you a credit I make it to the Docking Bay first.”

***

Location: The First City
Qo’Nos, Beta Quadrant, Milky Way Galaxy

Having been raised by the warrior-poets known as the Katai, Angwar had long had access to operas, songs and folk tales, both commonly known and almost forgotten to your everyday Klingon. It had been one of the few joys that the Katai during the years of solitude leading up to the now epic battle of Boreth.

But despite what he had read from the reports that had made it to the High Council through Ambassador K’mtok, it was quite different to hear the tale of the Jedi through one of their own. It was a tale worthy of an song or an opera -- an ancient order of warriors wiped out by trickery and deception had returned and had stemmed the tide of war in an epic conflict.

All this while, Anakin had patiently and calmly attempted to answer Angwar’s inquiries. He hadn’t minded at all. There was something that the young Solo found in Angwar that made him feel…calm, assured, and at ease. It reminded him of the effect his uncle could have on those around him during training sessions at the praxeum.

“Fascinating,” Angwar said at last. “Most fascinating indeed.”

“Thanks; I’m not much of a storyteller.”

Angwar smiled at that.

“Storytelling is as much an art of war as it is a tradition to a warrior. They must know how to keep the audience enthralled, of when to end exposition and concentrate upon action. I forsee many a song and tale told by you, young Solo.”

“I think the jury’s still out on that one.”

Angwar nodded for a moment, then his eyes drifted to Anakin’s belt, to the lightsaber that hung at his side.

“Tell me,” he asked suddenly, “may I hold your Jedi weapon?”

Anakin considered this request for a moment. A lightsaber was the Jedi’s greatest tool after their connection to the Force. And though he had not known the katai for long, Anakin felt no malice or deceit from Angwar through the Fore – an oddity that given the lack of midi-chlorians amongst Milky Way species was an incongruity that Anakin could only hope would resolve itself soon –

But that was for another time.

“Certainly,” he said as he unclipped his weapon and handed to Angwar. Having fought with both the bat’leth and tik’leth, the lightsaber felt…odd. Angwar experimented and cautiously pressed the activation trigger.

With a brilliant snap-hiss, Anakin’s lightsaber came to life, it’s violet blade erupting to its pre-set length of one standard meter. The brilliant violet blade hummed as the Katai wave it experimentally. Without warning and with the quickest of motions, he was on his feet, executing motions with the speed and style of an accomplished swordsman. Satisfied after a few moments, Angwar deactivated the blade and turned to face the young Solo once more.

“And you said all Jedi build their own weapons?”

“Yes; it’s one of the few traditions that survived the Purge. Each weapon is suited to its individual user. They’re as much a work of art as they are a weapon. Even my uncle built his current lightsaber after his father’s was lost in combat.”

Well, that was technically true, even though the weapon had been recovered on Wayland and Aunt Mara had used it for a time before constructing her own. Angwar sat down and stroked his beard.

“You remind me of one of the many legends of Kahless, of how he forged his weapon from a part of himself, spinning a coil of hair in lava to form the bat’leth. We have followed that tradition for millennia, yet no two bat’leths are exactly the same. Each, like your lightsaber, is suited to the swordsman.”

He paused, shaking his head in wonderment.

“I am amazed that despite a thousand generations and all that your Order ahs suffered, you can still embody traditions like that.”

“What do you mean?”

Angwar sighed, his gaze turning to the many statues and tapestries that lined the hallway of the Emperor’s palace.

“Even with the defeat of Morjod and our victories in the Kavrot Sector and elsewhere, I had thought we to be back on the road of honor that we had lost in the aftermath of Praxis. But now this assault on the Chancellor occurs. I fear that --”

Angwar never finished his inner musings, for one of the warriors that had journeyed with Klag, Worf, and the others into the inner corridors came rushing out, a look of extreme distress upon his face. Angwar frowned.

“What is it? Speak out!”

“Chancellor Martok’s condition is worsening.”

Angwar’s eyes widened.

“He has not long to live then?”

The warrior nodded. Angwar closed his eyes and sighed.

“Then we must prepare to call to the Black Fleet and inform them that another warrior will soon be in Sto-Vo-Kor.”

“No, not yet.”

Both Angwar and the warrior starred at Anakin, at the fiery determination in the young Jedi’s eyes.

“He’s not dead yet. Not if I have anything to say about it.”

***

Location: Somewhere in the Universe

Imagine the brain as a vast mansion with million of rooms. Each of these millions of rooms are locked shut; each contain millions of keyholes. And yet, throughout the course of existence, very few of these rooms will ever be entered by the average individual. This analogy also serves as a metaphor for the realm of existence. Though one may be an explorer, their goals and accomplishments are but a drop in the bucket.

But then there are those that are capable of achieving travel through each and every single locked door. As key masters to worlds both wondrous and terrifying, they would be considered gods to some, demons to others, and none to a few. All that power at one’s fingertips – or lack thereof – and all of the responsibility that came with it. Some might crack under such pressure while others still might embrace it.

The individual whose hands were turning the key to one such door subscribed to the latter. His mentor had taught him intricacies like this and he was up to the task that he had been ordered into by forces just as great and as cosmic, if not more so, than himself and his sensei. Yet, turning the key and stepping through the door and turning the key were two entirely separate things,

It took him a moment to adjust the flow of time and space; even after a relative decade of doing this, it still took some getting used to. He now found himself in a lush, flowing courtyard of fauna and fountains, of greens, browns, and a thousand other different colors. It was as much the image of Paradise that he had had since he had been a child, when his….

No, this was not the time to dwell on such matters, not with the stakes as high as they were. So, he set himself to the task at hand. Within a moment, he had locate his quarry and found himself standing behind him. The man lay kneeled on the ground in front of a garden. Various tools and instruments lay strewn against both the rich, vibrant soil and the cool stone path of the courtyard.

“You have a beautiful garden.”

The man nodded as he continued his work.

“In this place, it is one of the few joys left open to me.”

There was a brief, uncomfortable silence before the gardener replied.

“Well, get on with it.”

The individual nodded and unfolded the scroll that he carried within his hands. Clearing his throat, he read the contents.

“The time has come. In the name of the defense of all Existence, you have been summoned to the Concourse effective immediately. What will your response to this summons be.”

The gardener remained silent. Then he sighed and put his tools down, turning to face the individual, a look of set determination upon his face.

“No.”

***

Location: Earth Station McKinley
Sol System, Alpha Quadrant, Milky Way Galaxy

In his many years, Han Solo had long met people that he didn’t particularly enjoy meeting or finding in his immediate vicinity. His dance with Jabba in Docking Bay 94, greeting Lando on Cloud City after the Ylesia debacle, encountering Thracken Sal during the Corellian trade summit – the list was as long as the Falcon herself. And though he hated to admit it, Kyp Durron fell onto that list.

Now, that wasn’t to say that he didn’t like Kyp. In the spice mines of Kessel and on the Maw Installation, they had formed a unique and strong bond of friendship and mutual respect. Yet, this bond had been strained over the years, beginning with the spirit of Sith Lord Exar Kun possessing the trainee and continuing to Kyp’s Outer Rim harassment campaign right before the outbreak of the war.

And now, just as the Nubian wormhole had brought said war to the Alpha Quadrant, it had now brought Kyp Durron and the Jedi.

The Jedi that had made the trip through time and space were known quite well to Han. There was the equlally hot-headed Ganner Rhysode, the Barbarel Saba, former Shadow Academy student Zekk, and Chewie’s nephew Lowbacca, or Lowie, complete with the translator Em-Teedee.

Han tried not to glance too long at Lowbacca; though he had mostly come to terms with Chewie’s death, he wasn’t ready to put another Wookie in that position, Life Debt or no Life Debt. So instead he focused on Durron. Kyp was gazing out the display ports, taking in the small fleet of Work Bees flying amidst the nearly repaired Enterprise-E. He nodded, acknowledging Solo's presence.

“Han.”

“Kyp.”

Durron kept his eyes on the Enterprise, tracing her sleek and graceful lines.

“She’s a beauty, isn’t she?”

Han nodded.

“That was our first thought when it came through and rescued the Falcon.”

“Your first impression, anyway.”

Han’s eyes narrowed.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Kyp said nothing for a long moment, starring out at the Enterprise. Then he spoke.

“Just before we came through the wormhole, the Vong hit New Plympto. Alema and Numa Rar may be dead. Our Order is still being hunted and slaughtered and where is our beloved Master of the Jedi Order? Cajoling around a strange, new world while we continue to fight for our very survival.”

With what would have proven to be an amazement to those that knew him, Han kept his mouth shut, more out of the shock of New Plympto’s destruction. He had made a few runs through that sector of space throughout his career and despite his attitude towards life, he’d always had respect for the world and its denizens.

“Kyp, it’s not that simple. There’s more going on here than you realize.”

“The simple aberrations and flows throughout existence? Is that it. If it is, I’m surprised to hear it coming from you.”

Now Han’s attempt at pleasantness disappeared as quickly as a glass of water on Tatooine.

“Look Kyp, I may not feel the Force, but I can still sense some things and trust me, you have no idea of what’s going down here.”

“Aside from the new ally that the Republic is trying to recruit? An ally that would condone the Republic’s treatment of us?”

“This Federation is not what it appears. You’ve seen the holo-recordings of the battle that took place here recently, yes?”

“I have.”

“Then you realize that we’ve got a chance to kick the Vong where it’ll hurt the most. We have an opportunity to end this war and prevent any more deaths like Chewie or Wurth Skidder. So don’t you dare try to throw a hydrospanner in it, do you understand?!”

Kyp didn’t respond.

“Kyp, I’m talking to you.”

Still no response. The first hint of warning now presented itself to Han as he could see that Kyp’s eyes were frozen in place, widening as his hands began to shake. His eyes rolled back in his head and he collapsed onto the floor. Han was shocked to see that the others had followed suit and was certain that this was not a stunt to buy sympathy for Kyp – aside from the fact that Saba, Zekk, and Lowie weren’t exactly Kyp’s biggest allies in the Order these days..

But that was besides the point.

“Get me a medical team out here!” he shouted to the technicians on duty, who had complied even before he had yelled out his request. As medical personnel beamed into the viewing bay, Han ran his fingers through his hair, starring at the malady that had gripped his comrades-in-arms.

What in the hells was going on?

***

To be Continued…

***

Annotations and Author’s Notes
* What, did you really think I was going to let one of my all-time favorite EU characters bite it so early in the game? I’ve got plans for ‘ol Nommie, yes indeed…

* 500 Republica was first seen in “Cloak of Deception”, by James Lucenco.

* The Golden Cuff was first mentioned in “Labyrinth of Evil”, also by James Lucenco.

* Nebula Front’s beef with the Trade Federation was established in the TPM lead-in novel “Cloak of Deception”, again by James Lucenco.

* Ambassador K’mtok first appeared in “Articles of the Federation”, by Keith R.A. deCandido.

* The tik’leth is the sword used by Duras back in TNG’s “Reuinon.” It was first given this name in the I.K.S. Gorkon novel “A Good Day to Die”, by Keith R.A. deCandido.

* The campaigns in the Kavrot Sector refers to the currently-ongoing mission of the I.K.S. Gorkon and her crew in their book series.

[Crazedwraith]

1st post. Very nice. When did Mara stop using Anakin's sabre?

[JME2]

1st post. Very nice. When did Mara stop using Anakin's sabre?

Dark Tide I, if memory serves me correctly. At this point in the NJO timeline, Anakin's saber has also been rebuilt using a Vong lambent; that will likely come into play before the end of Act II (Yes, I've finally decided to keep the Act structure)...

[Crazedwraith]

1st post. Very nice. When did Mara stop using Anakin's sabre?

Dark Tide I, if memory serves me correctly. At this point in the NJO timeline, Anakin's saber has also been rebuilt using a Vong lambent; that will likely come into play before the end of Act II (Yes, I've finally decided to keep the Act structure)...

It been a while since I read Dark Tide but I don't remeber her swapping at any point.

[JME2]

1st post. Very nice. When did Mara stop using Anakin's sabre?

Dark Tide I, if memory serves me correctly. At this point in the NJO timeline, Anakin's saber has also been rebuilt using a Vong lambent; that will likely come into play before the end of Act II (Yes, I've finally decided to keep the Act structure)...

It been a while since I read Dark Tide but I don't remeber her swapping at any point.

We can just likely blame it on my having not read the first couple of novels in some time (though since two are Stackpole's work, I don't think anyone will hold it against me... )

[Trogdor]

Nice to see a new chapter. Seems like the fanfic forum's coming back to life after an unpleasant lull from some of the more popular authors here.

[JME2]

You wanted it? You've got it!

[JME2]

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

Spoiler Warning: This chapter contains possible spoilers for the novels “Titan: Taking Wing” and “Articles of the Federation”. Please read at your own risk.

As always, enjoy.

***

Act II, Part IX

***

“Surprises, like misfortunes, seldom come alone."

-- Charles Dickens --

***

Location: I.S.D Flying Dagger
Imperial Remnant, That Galaxy Far, Far Away

“Captain, the latest sensor recordings are ready for your viewing.”

“Thank you, Commander.”

From his chair of command in the center of the Flying Dagger's bridge, Talak took the flimsipaper from the hands of Teken and perused the findings of the sensor relays.

“Ah, twenty particles of space dust per cubic meter, fifty-two ultraviolet radiation spikes, oh, and a class-2 comet! Well, this is certainly worthy of our attention.”

Teken just blinked.

“Sir?”

The master and commander of the Flying Dagger sighed dramatically.

“It was a joke, Commander.”

“Yes sir.”

Talak sighed. Talented and capable Teken may have been, but the man could be so damm insufferable at times. Talak had tried unsuccessfuly since assuming command of the Flying Dagger to lighten up a little bit. It had done wonders for the Captain, after all…

“Commander, it’s not as if I dislike patrolling the border; after all, we serve the Empire in any way we can.”

“I understand, sir. I simply -- ”

“Captain Talak?”

The voice of the Flying Dagger's main communications officer, Lieutenant Logn Kragar, cut through Teken’s reply. He appeared slightly flustered, but buried it under the façade of orderly behavior that characterized men of the Imperial Navy.

“Yes, Lieutenant, what is it?”

“We’re receiving a transmission addressed to you, sir.”

“From Bastion?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Patch it through to my office,” replied Talak as he rose from his chair of command and straightened his olive-green tunic and turned to face his XO. “I win this round.”

“For now, sir,” Teken responded, just the slightest hint of a smile on his face. Talak grinned; he was getting through after all.

“Commander, you have the bridge.”

“Aye sir.”

***

Location: Starfleet Intelligence
Earth, Alpha Quadrant, Milky Way Galaxy

For a long moment, Commander Riker was stunned. He had no idea how to respond, his mind a maelstrom of emotions regarding the ship he had agreed to take command of, the Titan.

“Admirals,” he said at last, “if this the result of the call to arms, I understand, but why the change in vessel leadership? Commander La Forge is equally capable of --”

“We have equal faith in the remaining senior staff, Commander. The fact of the matter is that we will not fully commit any further Starfleet vessels to Yuuzhan Vong engagements on the opposite end of the wormhole until some manner of accord can be reached by Captain Picard and his team on Coruscant. Nonetheless, Command feels the time to begin upgrades to the flagship,” explained Admiral Ross. “Admiral Janeway?”

“This morning, the Council voted to allow the refitting of available starships with ablative armor generators, transphasic torpedoes, and Unimatrix Zero transwarp coils,” Janeway continued. “Since Voyager both encountered and brought this technology back to the Alpha Quadrant, they felt it was best to have the supervision of the Enterprise-E refit done by Voyager veterans. We’re also attempting to recall my former chief engineer from the Klingon Empire.”

Well, that explains that, Riker thought.

“I assume DTI isn’t happy about that development.”

“No, they’re not. They’re already comparing me to Kirk,” Janeway replied, making reference to the seventeen temporal violations DTI held Kirk accountable for. His emergence from the Nexus eight years previous had raised holy hell with DTI. Given his and Geordi’s experiences following their debriefing on the Phoenix, Riker could sympathize with the Admiral.

“However, the Council is confident of their deployment, as is Grey’si. And given what the Yuuzhan Vong threw at us two weeks ago, I feel better knowing that Starfleet ships will be carrying them. But to return to your earlier query, Commander, the Titan is not so much the result of the call to arms, at least not indirectly. You’re taking command of the Titan because we’ve learned the origin of the mystery vessel that saved our asses during the second Vong assault. Admiral Uhura?”

Nodding, Admiral Uhura began punching instructions into the data console built into the conference table. Instantly, the gray, uniform wall panels that were typical to Starfleet installations withdrew into the wall. The viewscreen twinkled to life, displaying the Federation’s familiar emblem.

“Two days ago, this transmission was intercepted by patrol vessels on the Vulcan/Romulan border. It was piggybacked on the usual traffic of propaganda coming from our neighbors across the Neutral Zone.”

With another tap, the Federation emblem vanished and was replaced by the face of a man that was known quite well to everyone in this briefing room, Uhura in particular.

Ambassador Spock.

A decade before, Spock has chosen not to evacuate with Captain Picard and Data, but instead to remain on Romulus so as to further the goals of the reunification movement between the Vulcans and their wayward cousins. Given the experiences of both the most recent Starships Enterprise with the Tal Shiar, Riker was amazed that organization hadn’t been able to hunt Spock down – though the damage caused by the Dominion to the Tal Shiar had likely helped.

The legendary Vulcan appeared much as he had a decade before when the news program City of Lights Illuminated had ran excerpts from his debate with Sarek on the Council floor regarding the treaty with the Cardassian Union. The stress of living on the run for the last decade, however, showed in his appearance and expression. But there was still that aura of quiet contemplation and intelligence that had made Spock the man he was.

“Greetings. For those that have not had the opportunity to make my acquaintance, I am Spock, son of Sarek, former Federation Ambassador and retired citizen of planet Vulcan. It is my attempt here to communicate a matter of significant occurrence on this side of the Neutral Zone to Starfleet and the Federation, especially in light of the current crisis with the Yuuzhan Vong.”

So, word of the Yuuzhan Vong invasion had made its way across the Neutral Zone; somehow, Riker wasn’t too surprised at that. After all, Spock’s transmission had gotten out through the traffic of Romulan propaganda, so they were just as likely receiving information from their own relays or from other sources

“As you know, the relationship between the Romulan Senate and the Romulan military has always been one of instability and mutual distrust. The aftermath of the Dominion War has furthered the growth of this rift and has now led to a turn of events that I cannot remain silent on, events which must be rectified immediately.”

Spock cleared his throat for a moment before continuing.

“Two weeks ago, a Reman centurion named Shinzon, apparently in league with the dissatisfied elements of the Romulan military, launched a coup against the Romulan Senate. He assassinated all but one Senator in this one, bold stroke.”

Gasps and murmurs filled the chamber and Riker found himself equally as shocked. Though he knew that power changed hands regularly on Romulus, there hadn’t been any change as violent as this since the 2340’s, after the attack on Narendra II and the fall of Praetor Dralath.

“This was the first of many actions. By the end of the day, for example, the Tal Shiar’s main headquarters was also destroyed, bombarded from orbit by a previously unknown vessel. As of this transmission, the status of any survivors is unknown. Five days later, this message was broadcasted to all four corners of the Star Empire.

At this point, the recording seemed to hesitate for a moment.

“Though he claims to be of Remus, I believe it best for you to see for yourselves that this is not entirely the case.”

Spock motioned to off-camera and his image dissolved, replaced by a new figure. SI’s data on the Remans was limited, even with their alliance during the Dominion War. But Riker instantly comprehended what Spock had meant and he joined in the murmurs and gaps that filled the conference room.

Shinzon wasn’t Reman; he was human.

"Romulans and Remans,” the recording began, in the same voice Riker recognized from the warning given before the Thalaron weapon was unleashed, “Across the Star Empire. I come before you in the wake of recent events to issue a call to reason. There are many who will believe this communication is another serving of Romulan propaganda or that I am a psychotic human spy sent by the Federation to undermine the Empire. I am neither. I am Reman. Look at the Empire and what do you see? The Senate and its political lackeys have squandered the wealth of Romulus and Remus for their own petty ends and agendas. The Tal Shiar has kept individuality repressed and a constant fear of terror upon the population, both Romulan and Reman.

We offered a hand of friendship and the ancient Romulans slapped it away. Today, despite everything that has happened to the Reman people, I renew that offer. If there is one thing the Federation has taught us, it is that within unity lies strength. Many of you consider it their greatest weakness and in many ways it is. But in other ways, it their greatest strength. Romulans and Remans together must unite to overcome any and all forces that would destroy us: the Yuuzhan Vong, the Borg, and all the others that would stand against us and destroy everything we have slaved and labored to create. We will fight to keep our paradise and homes, but as equals, as Remans and Roumulans together. Let this be the start of a new era, let no Romulan or Reman or Vulcan for that matter kill each other, and let us forever set aside out differences to forge a greater whole for a one we can and shall win through, no matter the cost! Thank you."

The image of this Shinzon dissolved, returning to Spock.

“Shortly after this message was broadcast, the new Praetor disappeared. It is possible that his own Romulan followers may have eliminated him once his purpose had been served. My few surviving contacts and associates have also not been able to verify the location of the unknown ship type that destroyed the Tal Shiar. All of the information we have gathered we are transmitting to you.

Whatever the reason, the situation on Romulus is deteriorating. The disappearance of Shinzon has led to infighting along hardliner supporters of the old regime and other factions long crushed down by the Senate and Tal Shiar. If action is not taken soon, then the Star Empire will effectively cease to function as an interstellar power, it’s collapse affecting not only its own people, but its own neighbors. I thus pray this message reaches Starfleet Command in time.

Spock raised his hand in the traditional Vulcan salute.

“Live Long and Prosper.”

The image winked out, leaving the SI briefing room in stunned silence. Captain deSoto of the Hood was the first to speak.

“Are we certain this is genuine?”

Uhura nodded.

“We are for several reasons. First, Spock utilized codes known only to myself and a handful of others, who have also verified it. Secondly, I had a little ‘chat’ with the Romulan Ambassador. He has not had contact with Romulus in two weeks. Normally, of course, we would have noticed this sooner, but our attention’s been focused on the wormhole and Vong. The sequence of events given by Spock also matches with the silence along the border and as for the ship…Commander, do you recall the rumors of a missing Dominion battlecrusier in the initial weeks following the end of the war?”

Riker nodded. The Enterprise had come across these rumors while searching the Badlands for a rumored Breen presence after the war as part of the shakedown involving the post-Briar Patch incident refit.

“We were never able to verify it.”

“Nor were we. Those rumors originated with the Founder that surrendered at the end of the war. She claimed that one of the final battlecruisers had gone missing from the Orias shipyards. Now it appears that they were well founded. Her…custodians have also been attempting to cross-check and question earlier statements.”

Riker knew better than to ask the location of perhaps the greatest war criminal in the history of the Federation. For a moment, his thoughts retreated towards the poker match with the smuggler Solo and wondered if Tsavong Lah was also in the same facility or still on planet. If the Vong came a-knocking again, Lah’s location could be of vital important to them – should they choose to rescue him. And given what they had learned of the Vong’s culture, Riker seriously doubted the rescue of a disgraced warmaster was on their list of priorities.

“If they’ve managed to build more than one of these ships, then we could be in serious trouble. I have spoken with President Grey’si and he agrees that we must act. With the fleet spread across the Federation and the Naboo system, the Titan is the best ship available to lead a task-force to the Neutral Zone. The Hood and the T’Kumbra, already both on RNZ patrol, will rendezvous with the Titan. You will investigate, but not cross the Neutral Zone unless absolutely necessary. Admiral Ross will be overseeing the operation.”

Given his experience with the Star Empire during the War, Riker felt relieved to have one of the living legends currently in Starfleet on this mission. But as these thoughts came to life, so too did another.

“Admiral, what about the New Republic?”

“What about them?”

“They’re just as interested in learning about the mystery ship as we are. I’d feel better having an extra ship or two around as a joint venture."

The Admirals exchanged looks and spoke quietly to one another for few moments.

“Alright,” Uhura said at last, “I’ll contact General Antilles or Krey’fey; I’m sure they’d be willing to spare a few fighters or frigate. But remember, we don’t have an official alliance. There presence would have to be strictly observatory. We don’t need the Republic declaring war on the Star Empire – or what appears to be left of it in any case.”

“Understood.”

“Is there anything else gentlemen?”

Neither Solok, deSoto, or any of the other offices present responded. Uhura nodded in satsification.

“Then this meeting is adjourned. I remind you that this briefing is classified at the highest level. Dismissed.”

As the holo-communicators shut down and the personnel began to file out, Admirals Uhura and Janeway approached Riker.

“Don’t worry about the Enterprise, Captain. I’ll take good care of her.”

Riker smiled

“It’s either Commander La Forge or Captain Picard you’ll need to worry about should that happen.”

Uhura chuckled at that.

“Captain Kirk felt the same way during every engagement the original Enterprise got herself into. The survivor’s stories would scare half of my cadets to death.”

“Hmm. Well, I’d better start pulling my senior staff together if we’re going to make this mission work.”

***

From his preferred observation point of the main floor of the abandoned TR-116 factory, Zweller closely watched as the excrement began to hit the oscillator once again for the umpteenth time in the last month.

“We are most concerned with the possible presence of New Republic craft on this delicate mission.”

Across from Agent Zweller and standing before the twelve black obsidian monoliths, Admiral William J. Ross sighed.

“There was nothing I could do about it. An objection would have set off Uhura’s alarms; she’s already suspicious of the running around that Admiral Nechayev here is doing,”

Steeping out of the shadows and also occupying her usual position among the monoliths, Alynna Nechayev frowned.

“Someone has to rally the Council to lay down arms and the rest of the idiots in Command don’t have the --.”

“Point taken,” Ross interrupted, not wishing for that particular expletive to be used. “And Uhura also made a valid point: if there are more than one of these new warbirds ,a little extra firepower wouldn’t hurt. And we’re in no shape to send our own fleet into the Star Empire.”

As much as they would hate to admit, Zweller knew that Ross had a point. Not counting the relatively minor losses sustained in the second assault, the Shadowfleet was alteadu spread thin, the result of keeping rising unrest and threats emerging in the post-war era from threatening the recovery of the Federation, from the Cardassian Union to what was once the Thallonian Empire.

“If Picard were not engaged on Coruscant, this would be considered our greatest priority. Events are transpiring more and more quickly. Steps must be taken to bring the situation back into balance.”

“Many of these events can be tied to President Grey’si’s actions,” stated Nechayev. “In conjunction with Councilor Ob’rin, elements of the Council are working on an impeachment vote.”

“Do you believe it to have a chance at succeeding?”

“As I explained before, with each day, the chance grows greater. Several events are working in our favor: anti war protests and petitions, gorwing unrest --

“Yes, yes, and if these factors are ineffective, what would you propose then?”

The Admiral did not respond for a long moment.

“Then we…implore the President to realize the gravity of his mistakes and persuade him to step down from his office.”

Zweller whistled softly. It was one of the basic tenements of Section 31 – how far were you willing to go to safeguard Paradise? Apparently, Nechayev was ready to go all the way.

“I see,” the lead monolith said at last, slowly and with purpose. “Hmm. We will take the suggestion…under advisement for now.”

“Thank you.”

“You may leave now, Admiral.”

Nechayev bowed and stepped backwards, the shadows enveloping her as she disappeared into the night.

“Admiral Ross?”

“Yes?”

“Despite our initial displeasure, we are otherwise pleased with the results of your meeting. You will lead the task-force and hold them back. If the situation requires it 00 nd we have no doubt that it will -- gather the appropriate target data and the Romulus division will finish the job. You are dismissed.”

“Understood ,” replied William J. Ross, bowing as he followed Nechayev’s lead and vanished into the darkness.

“And then there was just little old me,” Zweller stated aloud to no one in particular.

“Agent Zweller, you assignment is equally paramount.”

“Alright then, I’m all ears.”

***

Location: Ashalla
Bajor, Alpha Quadrant, Milky Way Galaxy

“How is he?”

“Stable. He should regain consciousness shortly.”

Following Luke’s collapse, Bajoran edical teams had arrived as quickly as they could; the Ashalla monastery was shielded against beam-ins, a precaution that they had the Cardassian military to thank for. The efforts of Starfleet’s Dr. Bashir had paid off as Bajor’s hospitals were far better equipped and suited for the receiving of patients than it had been

Mara was satisified and relieved at the diagnosis; she had been terrified that they had another Exar Kun incident on their hands. A decade and a half earlier, the spirit of the long dead Sith Lord Exar Kun had separated Luke’s consciousness from his body. Luke’s spirit had been forced to wander the Great Temple, unable to communicate and near helpless as Kun attempted to either possess or destroy the Master’s body.

Taking one last glance at her husband’s still form, Mara turned to face Vedek Ebosh and Second Minister Asarem Wadeen.

“Is this kind of thing natural among the Orbs?”

The Vedek hesitated, struggling to find an answer that would please Mara without fear of reprisal. Perhaps they had heard from the briefings of Vader’s treatment of his subordinates. Mara desperately hoped that that wasn’t the case; this wasn’t the time nor place for that sort of thing.

“On occasion, the Orbs have responded in…unusual ways. Much of it depends on the user, of what they feel and are meant to see.”

Mara considered this and then looked back at Luke. Why had the Orb reacted the way it had? Was it due to his status as offspring of one of the most feared Sith Lords of all time? Was it due to his own time spent in the service of the reborn Emperor? Or was it something else entirely?

Even with her own training, Mara never had truly questioned the nature of the Force to the extent that Luke had. Even though it had brought them together, Mara still felt a times that she was the master of her own destiny. Her appreciation of the Force, though, had changed with Ben’s miraculous birth. Was this perhaps a test of herown faith?

“On behalf of the Bajoran government, I…apologize for the troubles caused to you,” responded Minister Asarem, clearly comfortable given that she was apologizing on the behalf of her gods, gods that were better represented by the Vedek Assembly and their Kai then the Second Minister of Bajor.

“Not at all, Minister.”

Everyone turned at the sound of the familiar voice. Mara breathed a sigh as Luke propped himself from his hospital bed.

“Are you alright?”

“I’m fine, thank you.”

Ebosh hesitated again.

“Like my counterpart, I can only hope that do you not harbor any ill will to Bajor because of this incident.”

“Not at all, Vedek. If anything, it has been an enlightening experience.”

Ebosh – indeed Mara as well – could only wonder how a lance of pure energy could be an enlightening experience, but then they were Jedi. He didn’t expect to understand them, just as he didn’t expect them to understand the path that the Prophets had laid out for Bajor millennia before.

“Well, I believe we should leave you two to your privacy.”

As the Vedek and Second Minister bade the Masters good-bye and exited the hospital suite, Mara turned her full attention on her husband, giving him a look that would probably frighten most grown men.

“Now, what did we learn about reaching out to touch strange and glowing objects, Farmboy?”

From the bed, Luke smiled softly.

“That when the fate of the universe may be at stake, you do it and damm whatever consequences may arise.”

“That’s not funny.”

“It wasn’t meant to be.”

“Seriously, how do you feel Luke?”

“Like the Emperor or C’baoth blasted me with Force Lightning. But not in a painful way.”

“What do you mean?”

“It’s…difficult to describe. It felt like an, an immersion in the Force, but far greater than we’ve been able to penetrate. The last time I felt a flux of energy so massive was in the presence of the Quintessence.”

Mara leaned back against the wall and considered the implications of this.

“Then you were right; the Bajoran Prophets are Force users.”

“Yes, no – I’m still not fully certain. It’s not in my nature to rush to conclusions. Also, despite my connection for only a few moments, I saw so much. For one moment, all the jagged pieces of the puzzle fell into place. For one moment, I understood everything that has transpired in the last month and what is still to come. And yet…”

“And yet what?”

“I can only recall small fragments here and there. I know everything I saw was valuable and likely essential to what will transpire. I am wholly certain, though, of two things.”

“And they are?”

“First, that we are moving closer and closer to the Merging.”

“And the second?”

“That you need to go.”

“Go? Where?”

“To Cardassia Prime.”

Mara starred at him, expressions of confusion and worry flashing across her face.

“Luke, are you sure you’re okay?”

“Yes. You have to find the remaining Tear of the Prophets, Mara. Much will hinge upon the Orbs, that much I’m certain of. You need to get them as quickly as possible. As a Jedi, you should be able to sense them far better than any sensor system.”

Mara was silent for a long moment as he considered and weighed Luke’s request.

“All right,” she responded at last. “I’ll have Artoo warm up the Rio Grande. But what about you?”

“I will complete our original plan, then arrange off-world passage to join you on Cardassia if you haven’t returned by then.”

“Allright then.”

She straightened her figure and switched her commlink on.

“Artoo?”

The Astromech’s distinct garbling and warble came loud and clear through the commlink’s

“Can you access the Runabout’s transporter grid?”

Artoo’s reply was a series of whistles that Luke and Mara both learned meant success in Droidspeak.

“Standby by to beam me back on board.”

She turned and looked at Skywalker.

“One last time, are you sure about this?”

“Yes,” replied Luke.

“Take care, then. May the Force be with you Luke.”

“May the Force be with you, Mara.”

“Artoo, one to beam up.”

And as the transporter effect claimed her, she gazed once last time upon the fading image of her husband and was struck with a strange, inexplicable feeling of foreboding, a feeling that she would never see her husband again.

The Force indeed worked in mysterious ways.

***

From the confines of their duck-blind structure, the three conspirators sat back and mused on the developments pertaining to their current situation..

“So, one goes to Cardassia, the other remains here,” said the soldier at last.

“It is unexpected,” replied the Vedek.

“But it plays directly into our favor,” the monk pointed out. “He will be alone in an unholy land and will be far easier to capture than if he is mate was with him.”

“And what of the mate? What if she should locate the missing Orbs?”

“It is of little concern. Even should she find them, it will not halt the coming Cataclysm. Our method is poised to succeed where theirs will fail. And even if she should, well, we have our own to respond with.”

“That would seem satisfactory.”

“Good. Colonel, are your men ready?”

“It will take time to prepare them without arousing the attention of the Militia, but yes, they will be ready.”

“Good. It would be best to perform the operation not in the open, but in an isolated location. His journey to Kendra Province will, like his very presence, work in our favor. Vedek, you will also work on keeping the attention of the government and that body of theocratic fundamentalists away from Kendra and focused on matters elsewhere.”

“I will do what I can to distract Kai Ungtae.”

“Good. I will continue monitoring the situation from here and notify you should it change for better or for worse. May the Pah-Wraiths be with you, gentlemen.”

As his co-conspirators exited the sanctity of their stronghold and prepared once more face the world that spat upon their beliefs, the monk took a final bite of his beloved hasperat soufflé. Then, glancing around and making sure that he was indeed alone, he reached towards the floor for his satchel.

The Vedek and the Colonel were gone and so it was for the best. If either of them found out what he was carrying in his satchel, it could jeopardize the very stability of the organization. In fact, it wasn’t even meant to be removed from the monastery until the time was right.

But how could he resist?

After all, an Orb of Jalbador was such a pretty thing. It was as pretty as the figure that had spoken to him months ago, who had instructed him to watch the heavens and his chats, to prepare for the coming cataclysm, that figure was appearing before him within the pulsating exterior of the Orb.

“Everything is in order.”

“Excellent. Continue as instructed, but do not kill him. Skywalker and I have unfinished business to attend to.”

“It will be as you command, my Lady.”

***

Location: I.S.D Flying Dagger
Imperial Remnant, That Galaxy Far, Far Away

“Captain on the bridge!”

Teken raised himself from the chair of command as Captain Talak exited onto the Flying Dagger's bridge. Having served under the Captain for three years running, Teken had grown accustomed to translating his commander’s body language. And it was clear here that, impossible as it may have seen, Talak had lost all traces of his impish humor. In its place was a model of perfection and conformity that the Empire had attempted to bring to the galaxy in order to raise quality of life for all species.

“We’ve received new orders. We’re going to Yellow Alert. Helmsman, lay in a course to coordinates 85-21-09. And do what you can to avoid any damm dovin basal mines.”

“Aye sir. The navicomputer is plotting a safe course now”

Nodding in satisfaction, Talak turned to face his XO as the bridge exploded into action.”

“Commander, prepare a briefing of the senior staff for 1450 hours.”

“Aye sir. Captain?”

“Yes Commander?”

“Sir, you do realize that this course takes us from the edge of Imperial space to just south of the Rishi Maze?”

“I do.

“Then what is out there that could possibly divert us from our original assignment?”

Talak couldn’t help bu admire Teken. In the old days, the captain of a Star Destroyer would have shot his XO for questioning his wisdom and decisions of his captain. Yet, to the disdain of his peers, Talak encouraged this sort of behavior. No captain was infalliable, nor could he see the entire picture. To that end, the Captain appreciated possessing another viewpoint to help him in making decisions that affecred not only the twenty-five thousand men under his command, but the Empire as a whole as well.

“A discovery, Teken, one that could save the Empire from total destruction.”

***

Location: Somewhere in the Universe

“No?”

The individual echoed the gardener’s answer, as if uncertain that this response was indeed what had been uttered.

“No,” the gardener stated for a second time.

“Hmm, indeed? May I ask just out of curiosity why you would refuse a request from the Concourse, from the highest order in the universe?”

The gardener remained silent, his attention focused on the clipping of a weed that cleverer inserted itself

“Because.”

“Because why,” the individual responded, the urge to partake in such a childish game waning with each passing moment.

“I’ve done my bid for king and country. I’ve paid my penance. My work is done. I told him that the burden was his now.”

“Yet, your work is never finished. The Balance must be restored.”

“Where have I heard that before?”

“This isn’t a time for joking. You can’t help but sense it, can’t you? Space and time are hurtling towards their final contraction, closer and closer to Merging. The universe will end unless the Balance is restored. If it is not, then we will all cease to exit – you, me, even him. He needs you know more than ever. You know he cannot face this alone.”

The gardener did not respond for a long moment

“Who do you need,” he asked at last.

“You and two others; I think you know whom I speak of.”

The gardener nodded.

“I do. What is our task?”

“A rescue mission of utmost importance. Given the precise fluctuations in space and time, I think you can speculate as to who it is that we must save.”

“The Stranger?”

“Exactly.”

***


To Be Continued…

***

Author’s Annotations and Notes
* Dralath’s fall from power can be found in The “Art of The Impossible.”

* City of Lights Illuminated first appeared in “Articles of the Federation.”

* In case I didn’t say it earlier, much of Shinzon’s speech was inspired by Arcturus Megnsk’s coronation speech from the end of the Terran mission for the original Starcraft.

* See? See? I found a way to bring “New Frontier” in after all.

* The Orbs of Jalbador were the focus of the video-game “The Fallen” and DS9’s “Millennium” trilogy.

[Crazedwraith]

first post and DOn't you dare use info from that shitty Fallen game. Millenium is fair game though. Are we going to see Arla Reyes again?

Also reading the authors note make me realise what an awful skim reader i am. I missed the NF reference. BTW if you do wanna get into NF i have the Stone and Anvil CD with most of the series on PDF. I could attempt to send them to you if you like.

[JME2]

I'll stick with Millenium. then.

As for Arla Reyes, perhaps, perhaps not. Even if I do not, this chapter should be plenty of indication that several new players are about to enter the game...

[Crazedwraith]

1st please note the above edited post?

2nd some questions:

a) are these apparently evil Jalbador cultists the same people sisko left the orbs with or a different wraith cult that stole the orbs?
b) does the exsistance of Millenium mean you will incorperated the view that Sisko wasn't the emmisary but his son by Yates was? (outlined in the epilogue)
c) Will the prophecies of Nog, Vash and Picard make an apperance? (It'd be a bit of a stretch since they seemed to only apply to the AU where the 6th weyoun destroyed the universe...)

[JME2]

1. Since I haven't had a chance yet to persue NF, I'll take your offer into consideration.

2a In the continuity of this story and like the DS9 relaunch, Millenium didn't happen -- though references are bound to pop up from time to time.

So, at this point in the Trek continuity, the Orbs of Jalbador are considered a myth except to a handful of Bajorans. That's not going to remain that way for long, though...

2b. Perhaps; regardless, the conflict between parents and their children that is one of the foundations of SW should play a major role if I follow certain ideas...

2c. I think a mention or two might make its way in...


Regardless of what does or doesn't go in, the Bajoran subplot is going to play a major role in the resolution to Act II.

[Trogdor]

“Ah, twenty particles of space dust per cubic meter, fifty-two ultraviolet radiation spikes, oh, and a class-2 comet! Well, this is certainly worthy of our attention.”

Picard from First Contact. Ha! Take that...oh, crap, he's still not here.

KHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAN! um, I mean WALLLLLLLLLLLLLLLPER!

I still can't wrap my mind around Starfleet Command giving Janeway command of the pride of the fleet. I hope an exploding computer panel or something gets her.

[JME2]

I still can't wrap my mind around Starfleet Command giving Janeway command of the pride of the fleet. I hope an exploding computer panel or something gets her.

A sign that the universe is indeed coming to an end, eh?

Seriously, Janeway's going to have her hands full as these subplots begin building to the climax of Act II...

[JME2]

Also reading the authors note make me realise what an awful skim reader i am. I missed the NF reference. BTW if you do wanna get into NF i have the Stone and Anvil CD with most of the series on PDF. I could attempt to send them to you if you like.

Going back to the subject of New Frontier -- since I have not read any of David's NF novels (and considering the number of references to Trek novels that have made their way in here, I know that must sound shocking; I'm planning on buying No Limits to consider a possible rectification) I have no immediate plans to bring Calhoun, Shelby, or the Trident and Excalibur-A into the fray -- at least not by yours truly.

The idea I've been mulling over is one that began with one of the FF.net users who has been a HUGE help in plotting together and bringing in certain element. Anyway, he has asked on certain ocassions than when the day finally arrives when this story is complete (and yes, I have a semblance of what the endgame will entail), would I consider writing a sequel?

As of this moment, I have no plans for a sequel (though I've had musings on another crossover, especially now that I've started to get the hang of it).

However, that doesn't mean that we can't tell further stories.

The idea I've been mulling over is "Tales from The Best of Both Worlds", an anthology containing stories set within the story. While I might pen a story or two, I'm interested in seeing other authors, both here, on FF.net, and elsewhere do their own take on my little universe. For example, someone could take a stab on what Calhoun and company were up to during this entire undertaking, or explore any number of little one-liners and characters that I likely won't pursue.

This is just a thought, mind you. I'll give further time and energy towards it once we near the endgame. Until then, I'm already at work at the next chapter; will try to have it this weekend.

(Oh, and Trog? JL/Nadia's back in the frying pan of creativity; look for it this weekend hopefully. )

[Trogdor]

(Oh, and Trog? JL/Nadia's back in the frying pan of creativity; look for it this weekend hopefully. )

[Mr. Burns] Excellent [/Mr. Burns]

[Agent R]

I like the idea of having a "Tales from The Best of Both Worlds" anthology; it would be a nice way of expanding the universe and bringing in the points of view of other characters.

I love the fact that your Quintessence subplot tends to bring in a lot of new characters: it seems that every new chapter brings in another player (The Stranger, Vergere, the Grand Omnipotent Q, et al). Not only that, but it seems as though everyone knows a lot more than they're letting on (except for maybe Q!).

Some questions, though: Who is the gardener? Is he one of your inventions? Is it Boothby? And what about the collapsing Jedi in the chapter before this?

[JME2]

Some questions, though: Who is the gardener? Is he one of your inventions? Is it Boothby? And what about the collapsing Jedi in the chapter before this?

1. People on FF.net have been asking if it is indeed Boothby as well, but I'm not telling. Let's just say that, (a) his identity will be revealed by the start of Act III and (b) the fan-bases are familiar with this character...

2. The collapsing Jedi will be addressed in another chapter or two. Suffice it to say, that will help propel one of the subplots to a head for the end of Act II.

[JME2]

Allright, you wanted it? You've got it!

[JME2]

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

Author’s Announcements: No spoiler warnings this time.

As always, enjoy!


***

Act II, Part X

***


“All men are responsible for one another.”
-- Talmund --

***

Location: Tokyo
Earth, Alpha Quadrant, Milky Way Galaxy

“I want kimchee!”

“Get me a hamburger!”

“No, let’s go for ramen!”

Though he could not respond to the family whose bickering and arguing he was picking up – as well as the ramen stand based at the foot of the building -- Zweller still preferred North Beach-style pizza, though and would gladly have ordered it if not for a testy replicator AI and his being on active duty.

The Section 31 agent found himself once again in the service of the organization that, in these dark days, was perhaps the only thing standing in the way of the Federation’s possible destruction. His assignment aboard Krey’fey’s Ralroost completed, his latest task was surveillance of Tokyo’s Sky City.

Built prior to the third World War, Sky City had been an attempt by Japanese architects to address the housing shortages faced by the city’s over-population. Though scathed by Colonel Green’s purification squads – since the building had housed irradiated refugees -- the basic superstructure had survived and been rebuilt in the years following First Contact. It was now home to over 135,000 civilians – and three Jedi.

Though the majority of the Skywalker/Solo family had departed Earth, the twins Jacen and Jaina remained on Earth with their new nephew Ben Skywalker. Section 31 was already tracking and watching the others, but Zweller had drawn the lot to spy upon the two teenagers and the infant child of the Master of the Jedi Order – or former master if the reports of his surrendering of the Jedi traditions at Ithor were correct.Personally, Zweller didn’t quite know what to think of the New Jedi Order and its religious beliefs.

With the exception of Buddhist mediation exercises that he was fond of, Zweller was not exactly a supporter of religion. Oh, the Federation was all about tolerance and acceptance, but Zweller couldn’t swallow down those a good number of those ideals anymore, not after the horrors of life that he had been exposed to. Just because Section 31 existed to preserve the ideals of the Federation didn’t mean it’s members had to follow them. For example, there was the right to privacy. By spying on the Jedi, he was violating one of the first liberties guaranteed in the Federation Constitution.

Not that the Jedi would know he was there, anyway.

His position was carefully camouflaged and the observation post was lined with psionic buffers. Theoretically, they would have the same affect on the Jedi as they did on other Milky Way telepaths – though the boys in the exo-biology cell were still curious what effect the alien yslarmi would have on Milky Way telepaths.

But that was not his concern at the moment. His concern was on monitor, on the two new visitors that Jaina Solo had just admitted into the suite. Technically, however, there were three, but Jag Fel had been such a frequent guest that Zweller was tempted to just consider him a regular boarder.

Since the Phantasm had been unable to engage the Vong after their initial attack in the Asteroid Belt, they had instead watched from the sidelines and Zweller had been impressed with the flying abilities of Fel’s Squadron. From intel reports, the Chiss seemed to be the Republic’s equivalent of the Star Empire, with a healthy paranoia and dislike of anything from the outside. Fel’s presence corroborated either a change in those cultural values or elements within the Ascendancy that wanted to keep an eye on what had happened at Naboo.

Or the young man was here simply wanted to get into the young female Jedi’s…

No, that was an inappropriate thought, especially for someone of Zweller’s position and age. And yet, his surveillance of Sky City had planted the thought in his mind. Watching to two talk had been like the bad holographic soap-operas that Zweller had secretly indulged in during his days in the Academy all over again.

Thankfully, the presence of two senior New Republic Generals had banished the thought from his mind.

“Nice place you’ve got here; puts what we’re assigned to on the Mon Mothma to shame,” came the voice of Republic General Tycho Celchu.

“Welcome Generals Antilles and Celchu. I am See-Threepio, Human-Cyborg relations,” replied the Solo’s protocol droid. Zweller caught Clechu rolling his eyes and Antilles shaking his head, a slight smile on his face. They obviously were accustomed to responses like these.

Not everyone was used to it, however.

Zweller knew that the Republic’s use of droids had raised eyebrows with some in the Quadrant, particularly among a number of civil rights groups, most notably the Coalition for Artificial Life forms (C.O.A.L), which had gained prominence in recent years for their attempts to involve themselves in high-profile cases such as that of Data and the Voyager EMH.

Zweller wondered what C.O.A.L would think if they were to learn that Section 31 had been responsible for many of the court sentences and blockings of their petitions. The Organization had a rather curious distrust of independent A.I’s. However, when one considered that this had grown out of the M-5 Computer debacle a century back – an experiment that 31 had invested much time and resources into – it became understandable.

Either way, with the discovery of the Naboo wormhole, they weren’t wasting any time. They were now calling for an embargo on the Federation’s acceptance of the Articles of Alliance and the formation of a pro-droid organization. And surprisingly for them, they had found quite the ally in Admiral Alynna Nechayev. It was jut another volley of the PR platform that the Monoliths had left the Admiral to.

While public polls in the Republic were raising for Federation support in the war against the Yuuzhan Vong, it was slowly starting to decrease here; memories of the horrors visited upon the UFP by the Dominion four years previous were still fresh and people were finally starting to wake up to the dangers of an even greater conflict, as the Admiral had been warning since the Enterprise’s return.

Even Zweller had to admit that she was thus far damm effective.

And yet, there had been something off about the Admiral the last month. True, she always got a bit emotional whenever the subject of Johnnie came up, but there was just something…odd about her behavior, particularly in the aftermath of the second Battle for Sector 001. She had seemed, well, still fiery, but there was just something…

Well, Zweller just wasn’t good at reading women; it had been a fact that had proven itself time and again over these many years. It was probably just her lack of reaction to Janeway being given command of the Enterprise-E that was bothering him; her attempts to incarcerate both the former Captain and her crew in the aftermath of Voyager’s return were not easily forgotten, after all. And if Nechayev posed a problem, then the Monoliths would deal with it as they had so many times.

But that could be dwelled upon at a later time.

His attention returned to the Republic personnel. General Antilles was speaking with Colonel Fel, inquiring as to the status of the Chiss Squadron..

“My Chiss squadron’s orders have not changed. We will remain here to observe and assist in whatever way we can.”

As Antilles began nodding, Zweller wondered again if Fel truly meant that or if there was another pilot in his squadron that felt differently. But he did not pursue that thought. Having posed as an infiltrator, arms dealer, and scammer on more than one occasion, he knew that the General was about to make a sales pitch – and his meeting with the monoliths gave him a very good idea as to what it was about.

“Good. I would prefer what I’m about to tell you not leave this room.”

“Understood.”

“Got it.”

“Acknowledged”.

On the viewer, Antilles nodded.

“Good. General Celchu and I finished speaking with Krey’Fet and Starfleet’s Admiral Uhura. Starfleet’s discovered the origin of the mystery ship that turned the tide here two weeks earlier. They’re sending a small task force to investigate and determine if there are any more like it. They’ve requested a Republic presence on this mission.”

“What kind of backup are we talking about?” asked Jaina.

“Not much, I’m afraid. Though Vong hit-and-run attacks on Naboo have ceased, they’re still active and could hit the system again at anytime. They already hit New Plympto yesterday.”

“How bad?”

“I think you can guess.”

There was a long silence as all three of the young adults processed this information, memories of Ithor flashing through their heads. Antilles waited a moment before continuing.

“Between the wormhole and the resumption of hostilities in our galaxy, we’re spread thin. I’ve promised Admiral Uhura at least one or two ships in addition to their fighter squadron complement. I’d like you to all accompany them. It’s not officially an order,” he said, making reference to the fact that Jaina was still on leave from the Alliance military, “but a request.”

“Count me in,” Jaina replied without any hesitation.

“Commander Fel?”

“It is clear that more of these ships pose a potential thread to both your Federation as the Ascendancy. We will accompany the Titan and Starfleet’s task force.”

“Jacen?”

Before Jacen could respond, the wall-mounted communications console began beeping.

“We’re getting a call from…”

The transmission began to fizzle and Zweller briefly contemplated employing the age-old trick of hitting the equipment until it worked. Yet he decided against it; he didn’t need Heisenberg bitching to him about the delicacy of the instruments again.

Oh yes, Admiral Uhura’s precious Tech Section Supervisor was a member of the organization as well; one could become very interested in knowing just how many corners of the quadrant Section 31 had penetrated in it’s never-ending quest to safeguard the United Federation of Planets

Either way, it didn’t matter. It looked like Ross would get backup – unwanted though it may be – for his little excursion into the den of the pointy-eared ones, as he prepared to file his report.

***

Location: Yammka’s Mount
Galactic Void, That Galaxy Far, Far Away

Though the bridge of a warship like the Yammka’s Mount was well equipped to handle tactical planning, it was more suited to such actions whilst engaged in combat. To that end, the shapers had, through the Seven Cortexes – the Eighth being reserved for the knowledge that the Gods would deliver when the Vong had proven themselves -- created a suitable chamber of war for the major capital ships of the Yuuzhan Vong fleet.

It did not matter to Supreme Commander Nas Choka that he had engaged in so many battles against so many infidels. Every time he stepped into the shimmering membrane into the Chamber, he felt as he had when he had been declare a full Warrior or when he had joined Shimmra’s toppling of Quoreal. He felt excitement, readiness, and a desire to make glorious war upon the infidels of this galaxy.

But these desires were tempered by the presence of the new Warmaster. The presence of Czulkang Lah might have annoyed others, lesser and weaker fools who would resent having their command usurped, even by a legend such Lah. But Nas Choka was not like most the majority of warriors that the many Domains had bred during their arduous journey through the nothingness of the intergalactic void. He respected the wisdom and experience of his elders and superiors. What he did, he did not for personal glory, but for the world he so loved. He suspected that the Warmaster could relate.

Legions of blaze bugs hummed and thrummed, giving life to an entire galaxy from within the confines of the Chamber. The Tactical villips blazed with the rugged, scarred faces of a dozen Supreme Commanders. Lah stood at the forefront, issuing directives and commands to them in rapid succession. One might think it odd that no one from subalterns to a villip mistress were present, but considering the delicate nature of this campaign and the nature of strategic planning, the Warmaster preferred it as such.

In either case, to Choka’s viewpoint, Lah appeared to be back in his element and ready to wage war, especially considering his less than enthusiastic reaction to that news that the elite team of warriors had failed to capture the Federation delegation and had ironically strengthened Starfleet’s growing popularity on Coruscant and elsewhere.

But not for long.

As a public retaliation for the grave and unforgivable injustices inflicted upon the master race at Earth and Naboo, the campaign against the infidels had resumed in full course.
Systematic, lightning attacks against dozens of worlds that had been within sight before Tsavong Lah had placed his ego over his mission. New Plympto had become the first to feel the talons of the new Warmaster and others were finally following.

“The Cleansing of New Plympto went well,” Choka stated as he took his place at the Warmaster’s side. The Warmaster nodded as he waved his hand, commanding the villips to cease their communication momentarily.

“You mean a ‘Base Delta Zero. It is how the infidels would term a Cleansing,” Lah explained, sensing the Supreme Commander’s confusion and he then prepared to point out the relevancy of his statement. “Understand the culture, is wisdom and beliefs, its foolishness and lies, and you can understand them in so many ways.”

A memory of his briefings on the more infamous denizens of this infidel galaxy sprung to the Supreme Commander’s mind.

“Did not the infidel called Thrawn hold similar viewpoints?”

“If the information gathered by the Intendant class is to be believed, yes.”

While traces of disdain could be heard – not doubt the work of the disgraceful and apparently dead Nom Anor -- Czulkang did not add further to the insults the caste faced so often and Choka suspected why. While Lah’s strategies had helped in the execution of the invasion, it was the information gathered from agents like Nom Anor that had allowed those battle plans to be drawn up.

But the mention of Thrawn raised another thought.

“The Chiss and their Ascendancy will be dealt with when the time is right,” said the Warnaster, as if reading Choka’s mind. “Our focus now is upon the execution of our lightning war and yet…”

He trailed off.

“Warmaster?”

While the Yuuzhan Vong were long lived – provided they did not die in glorious combat against the infidels – Choka knew that Czulkang was advanced even for a Yuuzhan Vong and wondered if this silence was due to his physical condition. The great warrior, after all, could only move through the use of modified vondumm crab armor. It was his mind that was his greatest weapon and should that fail…

“I am fine, Commander,” said Lah, waving his hand as if to keep Choka back. “The key to all this madness is the world Naboo. If we were to take the system and discover the means to close the Anomaly, then the Republic would be deprived of its new allies and the war would return to our favor.”

“The priests would consider such a statement heretical,” replied Choka, less out of his obedience to the religious dogma and more-so for the safety of the Warmaster, despite the fact that only the two of them were present in this chamber. The castes of the Priests and the Supreme Overlord had many eyes and ears and such statements had sealed the fate of many. And having faced the Unclean in battle at Sector, Choka knew that they could not afford the loss of someone like Czulkang Lah.

But Lah appeared unconcerned.

“Commander Choka, I am not speaking of heresy. Like the youngest warriors to be, I too believe in Yun-Yuuzhan and the Divine Pantheon. Yet, that does not mean I simply ignore the practicalities of warfare. One must prepare for this. You have certainly faced this paradox, I imagine.”

Though reluctant to admit it aloud – again, given how information and discussions on less than favorable topics had a way of reaching Shimmra -- Nas Choka privately conceded that the Warmaster was correct. The priests taught that victory was life and that their victories gave substance to the Divine Pantheon. And yet…

“But we would also deprive ourselves of an opportunity of vengeance against the Unclean,” Choka pointed out.

“We have a right to take vengeance, yes. But again Commander, the paradox returns. We have given an ultimatum from the Gods to take this galaxy in a glorious jihad, but we also have an opportunity to avenge our ancestors for their expulsion from Paradise. So, which one is more pressing? Do we secure our new home or avenge our old one?”

“Surely the priests would issue such a decree.”

“Indeed, they should. Yet Jakan has not issued any such proclamation on the matter. Even if he did, it does not matter; the Supreme Overlord’s decision is final unless reversed. And I must respect that,” he said as he turned back to the blaze bugs and tactical villips. “We have our task and there is more at stake here than the conquest or the waging of this twilight war. “

“And what would that be Warmaster?”

Lah was silent for a long moment before turning to face the Commander, his eyes boring into Nas Choka as if searching for his soul.

“Something is coming. What I can’t explain; it is an old warrior’s intuition. But something looms on the horizon. There is something larger at work here. Are we being tested? Are we being maneuvered by our gods into a final battle? I know not. We must be prepared for what tomorrow brings, Supreme Commander.”

If this were any other warrior, they would surely believe that senility had overtaken their Warmaster.

But not Nas Choka.

This was Czulkang Lah, the greatest of the great. With him, the Yuuzhan Vong could not and would not lose this war, not to the Unclean, not to the Republic, and not to the Federation.

***

Location: Tatooine
That Galaxy Far, Far Away

Prior to the Battle of Yavin 4, Luke Skywalker had called the dessert world of Tatooine the farthest world from the center of the universe. It had been a valid statement at the time and still rung true. Even with its fame as the Jedi Master’s homeworld, even with the death of the vile ganster Jabba the Hutt, Tatooine was still an insignificant speck at the edge of the Outer Rim Territories. Why anyone would want to visit there was a seeming mystery of the universe.

But then again, the man known as Boba Fett was a mystery to most of the galaxy, a fact that he preferred. His job was not a constant one, especially considering the state of the war that gripped the galaxy. But even if he was involved in an assignment that would provide the ultimate challenge and the ultimate reward, he would not care.

There were some things that went beyond the assignment, things that one must respect and protect; his father had taught him that much before his death.

And so, here was, on the second step in a three-step pilgrimage of sorts that he undertook every year. Stage one consisted of journeying to the rocky world of Geonosis, where both the Clone Wars and his life as an orphan and a bounty hunter had begun. Stage two consisted of a return to this desert world to pay an old “friend’ out in the dessert a visit.

The visit had gone well; Fett’s upgrades to Slave 3’s weapons systems had done well to accentuate his position on the debate and feelings regarding his desert “friend”. And every year, on the exact same day, he would return to voice his displeasure until the day he finally died.

Fett was already thinking of which weapon to use next year as he prepared to clear orbit of this forsaken desert world. With this task completed, he was on his way towards the third and final stop of his pilgrimage and so wished to leave this system as quickly as possible. Yet, the Nav Computer was acting up again and so, Fett found himself tinkering with the circuitry and systems of the ship, cursing that Slave 1 had never done this.

The venerable Slave 1, while it had served him and his father well, had finally gone the way of all things. Rather than go back to the despicable piece of flotsam that had been Slave 2, Fett instead opted for another Firespray-class vessel. After all, Slave 2 had simply proven unsuitable to the rigors of bounty- hunting and besides, the name Fett was synonymous with the Firespray-class.

It had taken time and a good many credits, but he had finally located a new vessel and had christened it thus Slave 3. While he still had reservations about this craft, at least the weapons systems worked, though the Nav Computer was another matter.

As he worked, he listened also to the hum of the systems and the news feed playing out on his communications console. Fett rarely paid any attention to the political news feeds. After all, governments changed, but the need for bounty hunters didn’t. In addition, the ‘feeds were a vital source of information, often listing disgraced public servants and malcontents who would certainly find a bounty on their heads and after that, a hunter.

Still, Fett couldn’t help but wonder if and when bounty hunters would ever get their own news feed; thay would certainly be the day…

The computer was programmed to switch automatically to different channels every few minutes so as to catch any relevant information. At this moment, it was playing out a live feed from Coruscant. Some important dignitary from an alleged other galaxy was currently speaking, someone called Picard.

“…as Captain of the Starship Enterprise and representative of the Federation, I know of the difficulties of unity. I know the dangers of darkness and the despair of war. The Federation knows precisely the feelings plaguing both this esteemed body and this galaxy. And I say this: Help is on the way. Whether it be food, medical supplies, ships, weapons – help is on the way. The Federation is ready to help you fight against the Yuuzhan Vong, to defeat this foe that has attacked both of our –“

Whatever it was that this Picard character was going to say next, it was cut off as the Nav Computer came to life and the hyperdrive engaged, throwing Fett back against the wall. Rubbing his neck, he began cursing silently, but no more than necessary. Excessive use of profanity was another valuable lesson taught to him by his father. Still, he was going to have the engineers at the city take a nice, long look at it when he set down.

Either way, he was finally on his way home.

***

Location: The Q Continuum
Somewhere in the Universe

Though the sun had long set, the land that served to represent Q Continuum, it still remained just as it had when Q, his family, and the mysterious Stranger had set foot upon its lands earlier. The celestial pond was still in place, as was the flock of lobotomized Q continuing both their dance and chant. In the distance, atop a mighty hill there rose a castle. It was in this keep that the Great and All-Powerful Q had established his base and was proceeding to torture and interrogate both the Q’s and the Stranger.

Yet, since the GPQ’s attention was focused on extracting valuable information related to the Merging, he was not aware that his domain had been breached.

In the forest that surrounded the keep, three intruders kept watched and studied the structure that contained their objective.

The Concourse’s Messenger and the Gardener were present, as was the Gardener’s apprentice, one of the two individuals that the Messenger had requested in addition to the Gardener himself. While the Messenger had to question the wisdom in the Apprentice’s presence here, he knew that their trio would most likely need the extra muscle.

“It appears well defended. There are no visible points of entry,” the Apprentice was saying to his teacher.

The Gardener frowned.

“If it were easy, someone would have already tried it. I believe though-- ”

The Gardener was interrupted as the ground began rocking. Out of habit, he and his apprentice reached into their clothing to retrieve their weapons, but the Messanger held up his hand in a warning gesture. No sooner had he done so then Force Lightning began flashing from the windows of the central tower. Over the roar of the energy, the three could discern a defiant scream that echoced across the land.

“I fart in your general direction!”

“Q still hasn’t broken yet,” noted the Apprentice as the noise and ligtning died down.

“Such will,” stated the Gardener in agreement.

“It’s rather ironic, my Master.”

“Oh?”

“Without even realizing it, Q is giving us the time we need to rescue the Stranger.”

The Gardener’s frown returned, but before he could reply, the Messenger beat him to.

“Much as I hate to say it, the Apprentice is correct. If Q’s defiance and stubbornness were not so great, the All-Powerful Q would not be focusing his attention and we would never have easily gained entry to this realm. If we do not move soon, however, we’ll have given up the ghost, so to speak.

“But will we attempt to rescue him? We can’t just leave him at the mercy of that sadist in the tower.”

“If the rescue of Q is possible, we will do it. But our priority is the rescue of the Stranger. Much, if not everything, hinges upon his safe return.”

***
Location: Colebi’k System
Gamma Quadrant, Milky Way Galaxy

In the three years leading up to the conflict that nearly tore the Alpha Quadrant asunder, the data gathered on the regional powers by the Founders had proven invaluable to Vorta strategists and tacticians and not just for use against the Federation Alliance. It had also alerted the Dominion to the threat of the Borg Collective in the distant Delta Quadrant. Even as they had geared up for war with the Federation, plans, personnel, and equipment had been prepared and readied for any possible Borg incursion into Dominion space. Eight years after those preparations had begun, the long awaited invasion finally began.

But it was not the Collective that the Vorta had planned for.

Rather, it was a ragtag, yet deadly group of vengeful locals that had in the span of two months done significant damage to the Dominion’s home space. Now the hope of the greatest power to ever control the Gamma Quadrant lay in the hands of those that it had tried to destroy, Chakotay couldn’t help but note as he entered the Defiant’s command center.

“Captain on the bridge!”

Chakotay nodded, seeing that the call to yellow alert had been given and that all personnel were in place. Again, it was…odd not seeing familiar faces that he had become used to on Voyager, but it was becoming less of a problem the more time he spent on the Starfleet ‘escort ship’.

“Status, Mr. Shar?”

The Andorian – and son of the Andorian Councilor, a fact he tried to advertise as little as possible --- lieutenant scanned his console and scientific instruments.

“We will exit transwarp velocities in three…two…one.”

On the forward view-screen, the green, swirling tunnel of transwarp that Chakotay was all too familiar with flashed and melted away, replaced by the familiar black vacuum of space.

“We have entered Planetary System 5002-K, the Colebi’k System.”

“Go to Yellow Alert.”

As the order was carried out, Chakotay noticed that the several crew members stiffened at the sight that lay before them. Hundreds of the bug-shaped fighter craft, defense turrets, shipyards with vessels of war at ay at all stages of completion – all this and more stood revealed on the Defiant’s main viewer. Many, if not all, on this ship had fought the Dominion and fought against its tyranny and oppression. Chakotay knew that their presence here could re-open old wounds and make a delicate situation even worse.

But if they succeeded, it would mark the first real step since Odo’s return to the Link and the rebuilding of the Gamma Relay towards a true lasting peace between both quadrants. And for Chakotay, whose actions with the Maquis had helped contribute to that war, this was that mattered.

“Hail Attack Vessel 571 and the Diamond. Open a dual-channel.”

“Channels opened, sir.”

The view of the impressive Jem’Hadar war machine was replaced by live feeds to the bridges of the Dominion and Unimatrix Zero flagships.

“Gentlemen, it would appear we’re early for the party.”

“Hmm. Our sensors aren’t picking up any transwarp activity either,” stated Odo.

“Nor or ours,” said Axum. “However, it’s not surprising.”

“So you don’t consider this odd, Axum?”

“Not entirely. Remember, their quarrel is with the Dominion, not the Federation. The presence of the Defiant at that little skirmish is probably creating confusion among the ranks. After all, why would the Federation ally itself with the power that tried to destroy it?”

“Point taken. Do you think then we have a chance to end this conflict without more blood being spilled?”

“I seriously doubt it Captain; that they’ve fought this long and this hard should be proof enough,” said Odo.

“I’m forced to agree with the Constable,” Axum in turn replied. The Captain sighed.

“Alright then. We’ll do what we can. Keep us apprised of any changes.”

Axum and the Constable nodded in agreement and the transmission ceased. Chakotay swiveled around in his chair to face the bridge crew.

“Alright people, I want weapons and scanners on standby status. If anything so much as goes at sublight speeds, I want to know about. Until then, we’ll stay at Yellow Alert.”

“Aye sir.”

***

“They’ve dropped out of transwarp. Will you proceed with the attack?”

“Not just yet, no. My first and foremost priority is in dealing with the interference from tomorrow; it cannot be tolerated any longer.”

“The one you call Daniels?”

“Yes. Once he is he removed from the game-play, the attack on the system will commence and it will mark the beginning of the end of the Milky Way phase.”

“A wise move.”

“Hmm. And what of your plans for Bajor? Will a delay significantly impact the implementation of the endgame?”

“No, it is on schedule, just as I have foreseen.”

“So, you still intend to follow through with your original intention?”

“No. I will not attempt to corrupt or turn him; that has been done to death and is a complete waste of what precious little time and resources I posses. So instead, I will kill him. Kill Skywalker and the new Jedi’s precious Order will begin to unravel as quickly as it had begun. His death would crack that spirit and what I have planned for an aftermath will crush it forever.

The speaker for many frowned.

“I know of your connection to that family, but remember the ultimate goal of our alliance. Do not allow a personal vendetta to cloud your senses.”

“The Order’s destruction is but one of my goals. The triumph of the Dark Side and the Merging is another and that is all that matters in the end”

The individual of a million voices could not help but sigh as the signal terminated. Even before her ascension to the throne, so to speak, she had cared but for one religion, the religion of the Collective. Her ally’s devotion to her own religion was inconsequential, yet slightly alarming at the same time. This bargain she had struck could prove costly if her ally were to turn upon her – a likelihood calculated at 42.705 percent.

But it was necessary.

Her ally’s manipulation of the playing field was far greater than any of the lesser beings realized and it had helped set the stage for the proper conditions with which to bring about the Restoration in yesterday.

Yet, she had dallied long enough. There was work to be done.

“Status?”

TARGET SCANNED AND LOCATED. TEMPORAL AND SPATIAL COORDINATES LOCKED. INITATING CHRONITION SEQUENCE 0-6-1.

“Execute.”

***

To be Continued…

***

Author’s Notes and Annotations
* Sky City is technically still on the drawing boards as of this writing. Like others, I hope it to be a reality in the coming decades.

* The Unifying Force makes it clear that Fett had retired Slave 1 and had located another Firespray-class patrol craft.

* I hope the Cowboy Bebop fans don’t mind the little in-joke I put in.