Unity I: Worlds Without End, Redux (Complete)
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Sonnenburg
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Part VIII
The door opened for Picard, revealing the darkness of Thrawn’s office. He wondered if there’d been a mistake, but then he saw a single source of light within. Slowly he stepped through the door and heard the hiss as it closed behind him. As he approached he noticed the light was coming from a hologram, a rather familiar hologram. "Pardon my rudeness, captain," Thrawn said eventually, his eyes still on the hologram. "I was just pondering this strange painting."
Picard walked up to Thrawn's side and looked as well. The grand admiral was seated only a few meters away from the hologram of- "The Mona Lisa," Picard said, "perhaps the most famous work of art in Earth's history."
"Yes," Thrawn said as he leaned forward in his chair, "a painting so simple and yet so - indefinable in its beauty. I have been studying this great mystery for the past hour."
Picard smiled. "Scholars have spent their entire careers studying this painting, trying to glean some insight. What does it represent? How does it move us? What..."
"Yes, fascinating," Thrawn interrupted, "I was wondering why she has no eyebrows."
Picard looked at Thrawn quizzically, and then back at the painting. "Er, eyebrows, admiral?"
"She has no eyebrows," Thrawn said with a gesture of slight confusion. "Why would the painting of Earth's most famous woman have no eyebrows?" Picard was stricken rather dumb by the question. Thrawn swiveled in his chair to face him. "My apologies, I do sometimes get engrossed in these things." He looked Picard over for a moment. "Capt. Jean-luc Picard, of the USS Enterprise, representative of the United Federation of Planets, good to finally meet you face-to-face." Picard responded in kind. Thrawn paused for a moment. "What does it mean to 'strike the colors'?"
Picard was starting to wonder if Thrawn was some kind of eccentric. The Incaciad had contacted them, requesting Picard to come over in person right away, and it seemed all he wanted to talk about were colors and eyebrows. "I'm afraid I don't know what you mean, admiral."
Thrawn smiled slightly, a somewhat chilling effect. "I was reading about the USS Enterprise actually. No, not your ship, but its namesake. Apparently in one of the ancient wars on your homeworld, a ship called the USS Enterprise battled an enemy vessel, the HMS Boxer during what was called the War of 1812."
Picard nodded as realization set in; he was naturally familiar with the many namesakes of his ship. "Yes, in 1813 the two ships engaged in battle off the eastern coast of what was then called the United States. Two wooden vessels, their weapons limited to primitive projectile launchers and their power provided by the wind."
"Yes," Thrawn nodded. "And during that battle, the commander of the vessel, what was his name, oh yes, William Burrows, was killed. And his last instruction to the crew was 'The colors must never be struck.'" He looked at Picard. "So, again I ask, what does it mean to 'strike the colors'?"
"In those days," Picard said, "a ship would fly flags on its mast to show its allegiance. These flags were called ‘colors.’ To strike the colors meant to raise the flag. That, at the time, was the international sign for surrender."
"I see," Thrawn said. "So his final order was to never surrender?"
"Yes," Picard answered, "the battle was too important. Burrows knew that a defeat there would be a stepping stone for a total invasion of the United States, and his country would be no more. For him, that would have been the end of the world."
Thrawn nodded. "Yes, or course, sometimes sacrifices must be made, to keep our worlds from ending." He seemed to ponder this. "I've just received word from Coruscant," he said, shifting the topical winds in a way that would no doubt impress William Burrows. "The negotiations are nearing completion. One of the conditions is an exchange of technology schematics." He reached over and pulled a datapad out of a small case by his chair. "These will provide you with information about the basics of many of our technologies."
Picard reached out and took it, wondering just what was waiting for them in the electronic archive of the device. The hyperdrive alone ensured that the galaxy would never be the same again, how else would it change once these secrets were revealed? "I'll have a similar collection of information prepared immediately," Picard told Thrawn.
Thrawn leaned forward towards Picard. "I'd like something in particular, if you would be willing," he remarked. He looked at Picard's face and smiled slightly, "Nothing remarkable. It is my understanding that you and those who live in your part of the galaxy use a different communications technology from ours. I'd be very interested in seeing how it works."
Picard considered. "Subspace communication technology; that won't be a problem. I'll make sure it's included in the report."
Thrawn nodded his head slightly. "Thank you captain."
With that, Picard turned to leave, just as the door opened, he heard Thrawn call to him, "Captain." Picard turned back to the admiral. "I look forward to working with you and the Federation. I predict great things will come from this."
"As do I, admiral," Picard replied, and turned and left. Moments later he was transported back to the Enterprise, his excitement almost palpable. "Commander," he called as he entered the bridge, "prepare a report for Admiral Thrawn on general Federation technology. Have Mr. LaForge assist you. Make sure to include detailed information on subspace communication technology."
"Sir?" Riker asked with some concern.
"There's been a breakthrough in the negotiations. We're sharing basic information with our new ally. They have already given us their technological report as a show of good faith."
Riker seemed momentarily hesitant, but he'd made his concerns known repeatedly; doing so now, on the bridge, wouldn't be appropriate. He nodded and set to work. "Data, Seven," Picard said, "I want you two to go over this information. Memorize it, try to understand as much as you can. I want daily reports on what you've learned. This is your top priority."
"Understood, captain," Data said taking the datapad. He nodded to Seven and the two walked off the bridge. Picard turned and looked at the star destroyer on the viewscreen. "What strange new world that has such people in it," he quoted.
--------------------------------------------------------------
Taar slowly opened his eyes and saw hyperspace swirling in front of him. Quickly he leaned forward and hit the controls to bring him back into real space. He glanced at the display; five hundred light-years, in the wrong direction no less. It'd take the better part of a day to make it back to Base One. But he was alive, and for the moment, safe from the Borg. That's what counted. He punched in the coordinates and returned to hyperspace, this time going the right way. He wished he could send out a warning to them, but it was too dangerous to give away his position. Besides, Base One had to have heard about what had happened, and even that idiot aide would be smart enough to call in some reinforcements.
With the ship on autopilot, Taar got up and tried to assess the damage. Anything that wasn't nailed down had been sucked out during the decompression, including the pilot. Taar really didn't feel sorry for him, and it was certainly no great loss to the Empire. Thankfully the equipment lockers had remained sealed, and he managed to find some emergency rations. The low quality of field rations is a universal constant, but Taar gorged himself on them as if it were roast nerf with drippings. Finally, his physical needs tended to, he began looking at the condition of the ship itself. Some damage had been done to the ramp obviously, but it was still holding itself together. If worse came to worse, he could always use a plasma torch to cut through the viewplate in order to get out. The engines, however, had been put under an even heavier strain during his escape. The stress had caused some damage to the hyperdrive motivator, a pretty serious problem considering he was flying through Borg space. If he should be forced back into real space and run into even a single cube, he'd have no hope. The weapons of this shuttle just aren't strong enough to do any real damage, he thought. If they show up.... If they showed up, he'd follow Admiral Piett's example. Hopefully it wouldn't come to that. In the meantime, he had a pretty long journey ahead, so he settled back for some rest. It would be nice to be unconscious voluntarily for a change, he thought as he stretched out on the bunk and closed his eyes. Again, visions of dying Borg filled his mind, and the twinges of a smile could be seen on his face.
--------------------------------------------------------------
The planet of Cordis hung against the backdrop of space, its green surface flecked with streaks of brown, tapering to a pale blue at its poles. Its reflected brightness, in contrast to the dotted blackness of space, revealed a beauty that was both subtle and simple. An ancient Caamasi poet once said that worlds are the jewels of space, that even the most foul planet gained an elegance and sense of peace that, for better or worse, it was a sanctuary. Unfortunately, peace, beauty and sanctuary have no meaning to those who now approached the calm world of Cordis. "Approaching planet in Grid 1092 of Unimatrix 02 prime, settlement of species 11035. Estimated population: approximately 97,000,000. Scanning..." The four cubes hung over the world. "Current population: 218,641. Commencing assimilation."
Grand Admiral Thrawn, having observed the effectiveness of the Borg first hand, had recommended the Cordisi evacuate the world before Piett had even arrived. Of course, there were always the brave, foolish, stubborn, or just unlucky. They were there to hear the message that broadcast on every frequency across the planet. "We are the Borg. You will be assimilated. Your culture will adapt to service us. Resistance is futile."
The Cordisi were a short species with a hardened exoskeleton covered with thick hairs, and a long history of combat. Many of those that stayed behind were members of combat orders that had passed down their knowledge for ten thousand generations, and considered it an unacceptable sin not to fight to defend their world to the bitter end. They prepared traps and set up choke points, made contingency plans for breaches. It was unfortunate, then, that the Borg didn't fight that way, because perhaps then they might have had even a small chance.
A beam lanced out from the cube in orbit over the city of Ch'suvic and began ripping it apart. The Cordisi weren't sure how to react when the pieces were scooped up and pulled into space. Someone had found the controls to an old planetary ion cannon and blasted at the cube. After a few shots, a green torpedo descended and struck the facility, wiping out the complex while causing minimal damage to the surrounding area. That was the most efficient.
The Cordisi drawn into the cubes were quickly disoriented and captured. Some still attempted to resist even on board the cube, but the approaching Borg overwhelmed them by sheer force of numbers. Just hours after their arrival, the planet of Cordis had been stripped of all technology and its entire sentient population. They were now one with the Borg. The cubes departed, moving on towards the next target for assimilation.
--------------------------------------------------------------
"Captain, the Incaciad is hailing us," said Lt. Travis.
"Onscreen," Picard ordered. Immediately the image of Admiral Thrawn appeared, a thin smile on his face.
"Captain Picard," Thrawn said in a formal tone, "it is my great pleasure to inform you that the negotiations have been a success. As of thirty minutes ago, the Galactic Empire and the Federation officially became military allies."
"That's good news admiral," Picard replied, trying to contain his own excitement. The moment was finally here, he thought. Military alliance, sure, but that was just getting the foot in the door. A grand future for the Federation was beginning at this very moment, and he and his crew had been an instrumental part of it. "How will we be proceeding?"
"Some of the diplomatic party you brought will remain behind on Imperial Center as the Federation ambassadors," Thrawn explained. "The rest will be rendezvousing with us in five days. Also, the ambassadors to the Federation from the Empire will be arriving with them. Once they've all arrived, my ships will escort you to the wormhole, and from there you can take them back to Earth."
"Very good," Picard replied, "Then, if there's nothing else, admiral?"
"We'll contact you, should it be necessary," was Thrawn's only reply. The screen then went blank.
Riker turned to his captain, "Well, it seems our mission has been a success." Riker's tone was completely devoid of any irony; either he'd come around or decided to keep his opinions on the Empire to himself from now on.
"Indeed, Number One," Picard responded in good humor. "Commander, I think this particular mission I have in mind will require your expert talents."
"What do you mean sir?"
"I think that this is a cause for a celebration, don't you?"
Riker grinned, "Of course, sir. I'll use all my Starfleet training, sir."
"Oh I hope not," Picard replied, "I was hoping for something interesting for a change."
--------------------------------------------------------------
A small alarm went off on the control panel for the shuttle, signaling that Taar was finally almost there, and safe. As the countdown completed the ship slipped from hyperspace into real space just twenty thousand kilometers from the station...or rather, where the station was.
Taar's mouth fell open in disbelief. It was the Borg; they must have learned where Base One was from the assimilated soldiers, and now the station was next. He pounded the console; I should have warned them, he chided himself. One man wasn't worth the risk!
Finally, reason overcame guilt. Okay, he hadn't warned Base One in time, but this was obviously just a Borg stepping stone. He had to get through the wormhole and warn the Empire before the Borg swarmed over their galaxy. He pushed the battered engines to the limit; it didn't matter if his ship died on the other side of the wormhole, so long as he could get a message through.
Taar's stomach sank as he saw three of the cubes alter course to intercept him. They were too fast; he'd never make it to the wormhole... at least, not using the sublight engines. A microjump for a ship like this, especially after all they'd been put through, was stupid, but the sight of those Borg cubes enter tractor range made up his mind. His hands flew over the controls and he yanked back on the lever; just as the Borg cube's beam reached for his ship it shot forward and disappeared.
Unfortunately, the damaged motivator wasn't up to the task, and the ship flew at lightspeed right into the wormhole. The swirling tunnel of hyperspace turned from a milky white to a smear of purple, and then a violent red. It was the most unpleasant sensation of Taar's sad little life, his body feeling forces acting on it evolution had never had in mind. The "sky" outside churned and heaved like a living organ trying to expel the tiny shuttle back to where it belongs. There was the squeal of machinery going beyond design limits, and the hyperdrive collapsed in on itself, dropping ship and pilot back into real space. The ordeal made him want to curl up into a fetal position and throw up for a while, but regardless of how he felt he still had to give that warning, so he looked at the read-outs. The sublight engines weren't functioning, the stabilizers weren't operational and, oh, the remnants of the hyperdrive were actually on fire, Taar thought in a detached sort of way. As the sound of the sprays coming on filled the ship, Taar tried to figure out where he was. No sign of Borg, he thought with some relief, which probably meant he'd made it through the wormhole. He added this maneuver to the list of things to never, ever, do again, and started checking over the rest of the ship.
Most of the panels were off-line, including, he noted with frustration, the communications array. Fortunately, he still had the shuttle's emergency homing beacon, assuming he was even in the right galaxy for the Empire to pick him up. But, like so many other things on this trip, it was his only option. He didn't have the kind of training to fix this, and even if he did, he doubted he even had the right tools, what with everything being sucked out of the shuttle. He activated the homing beacon, sat back, and waited. Just to be safe, he gripped the small holdout blaster he'd found in an equipment locker. "Hopefully it wouldn’t come to that," he thought again, but then thought, "only if my luck changes."
--------------------------------------------------------------
Talon Karrde was shaken awake by Roolith. "What is it?" he groaned. He'd been up the previous thirty-six hours and was really hoping to grab some kind of sleep before they hit the main trade route. You had to be careful even out here on the rim; the Empire was a lot swifter with their "justice" then they tended to be in the core.
"I think you'll want to hear this, Karrde," Roolith said, flipping the comm switch. The voice was deafening.
"We are the Borg. Lower your shields and surrender your ship. You will be assimilated; resistance is futile."
"What the hell was that?" Karrde demanded. He activated the panel nearby, and two cube-shaped ships appeared; the scale made his jaw drop. "What do you say we get out of here," he said, hopping out of his cabin.
"I think the crew will back you up on that, Talon," Roolith said, following him. Karrde paused as he saw the ships through the viewscreen, and he wondered if his luck had finally run out.
The door opened for Picard, revealing the darkness of Thrawn’s office. He wondered if there’d been a mistake, but then he saw a single source of light within. Slowly he stepped through the door and heard the hiss as it closed behind him. As he approached he noticed the light was coming from a hologram, a rather familiar hologram. "Pardon my rudeness, captain," Thrawn said eventually, his eyes still on the hologram. "I was just pondering this strange painting."
Picard walked up to Thrawn's side and looked as well. The grand admiral was seated only a few meters away from the hologram of- "The Mona Lisa," Picard said, "perhaps the most famous work of art in Earth's history."
"Yes," Thrawn said as he leaned forward in his chair, "a painting so simple and yet so - indefinable in its beauty. I have been studying this great mystery for the past hour."
Picard smiled. "Scholars have spent their entire careers studying this painting, trying to glean some insight. What does it represent? How does it move us? What..."
"Yes, fascinating," Thrawn interrupted, "I was wondering why she has no eyebrows."
Picard looked at Thrawn quizzically, and then back at the painting. "Er, eyebrows, admiral?"
"She has no eyebrows," Thrawn said with a gesture of slight confusion. "Why would the painting of Earth's most famous woman have no eyebrows?" Picard was stricken rather dumb by the question. Thrawn swiveled in his chair to face him. "My apologies, I do sometimes get engrossed in these things." He looked Picard over for a moment. "Capt. Jean-luc Picard, of the USS Enterprise, representative of the United Federation of Planets, good to finally meet you face-to-face." Picard responded in kind. Thrawn paused for a moment. "What does it mean to 'strike the colors'?"
Picard was starting to wonder if Thrawn was some kind of eccentric. The Incaciad had contacted them, requesting Picard to come over in person right away, and it seemed all he wanted to talk about were colors and eyebrows. "I'm afraid I don't know what you mean, admiral."
Thrawn smiled slightly, a somewhat chilling effect. "I was reading about the USS Enterprise actually. No, not your ship, but its namesake. Apparently in one of the ancient wars on your homeworld, a ship called the USS Enterprise battled an enemy vessel, the HMS Boxer during what was called the War of 1812."
Picard nodded as realization set in; he was naturally familiar with the many namesakes of his ship. "Yes, in 1813 the two ships engaged in battle off the eastern coast of what was then called the United States. Two wooden vessels, their weapons limited to primitive projectile launchers and their power provided by the wind."
"Yes," Thrawn nodded. "And during that battle, the commander of the vessel, what was his name, oh yes, William Burrows, was killed. And his last instruction to the crew was 'The colors must never be struck.'" He looked at Picard. "So, again I ask, what does it mean to 'strike the colors'?"
"In those days," Picard said, "a ship would fly flags on its mast to show its allegiance. These flags were called ‘colors.’ To strike the colors meant to raise the flag. That, at the time, was the international sign for surrender."
"I see," Thrawn said. "So his final order was to never surrender?"
"Yes," Picard answered, "the battle was too important. Burrows knew that a defeat there would be a stepping stone for a total invasion of the United States, and his country would be no more. For him, that would have been the end of the world."
Thrawn nodded. "Yes, or course, sometimes sacrifices must be made, to keep our worlds from ending." He seemed to ponder this. "I've just received word from Coruscant," he said, shifting the topical winds in a way that would no doubt impress William Burrows. "The negotiations are nearing completion. One of the conditions is an exchange of technology schematics." He reached over and pulled a datapad out of a small case by his chair. "These will provide you with information about the basics of many of our technologies."
Picard reached out and took it, wondering just what was waiting for them in the electronic archive of the device. The hyperdrive alone ensured that the galaxy would never be the same again, how else would it change once these secrets were revealed? "I'll have a similar collection of information prepared immediately," Picard told Thrawn.
Thrawn leaned forward towards Picard. "I'd like something in particular, if you would be willing," he remarked. He looked at Picard's face and smiled slightly, "Nothing remarkable. It is my understanding that you and those who live in your part of the galaxy use a different communications technology from ours. I'd be very interested in seeing how it works."
Picard considered. "Subspace communication technology; that won't be a problem. I'll make sure it's included in the report."
Thrawn nodded his head slightly. "Thank you captain."
With that, Picard turned to leave, just as the door opened, he heard Thrawn call to him, "Captain." Picard turned back to the admiral. "I look forward to working with you and the Federation. I predict great things will come from this."
"As do I, admiral," Picard replied, and turned and left. Moments later he was transported back to the Enterprise, his excitement almost palpable. "Commander," he called as he entered the bridge, "prepare a report for Admiral Thrawn on general Federation technology. Have Mr. LaForge assist you. Make sure to include detailed information on subspace communication technology."
"Sir?" Riker asked with some concern.
"There's been a breakthrough in the negotiations. We're sharing basic information with our new ally. They have already given us their technological report as a show of good faith."
Riker seemed momentarily hesitant, but he'd made his concerns known repeatedly; doing so now, on the bridge, wouldn't be appropriate. He nodded and set to work. "Data, Seven," Picard said, "I want you two to go over this information. Memorize it, try to understand as much as you can. I want daily reports on what you've learned. This is your top priority."
"Understood, captain," Data said taking the datapad. He nodded to Seven and the two walked off the bridge. Picard turned and looked at the star destroyer on the viewscreen. "What strange new world that has such people in it," he quoted.
--------------------------------------------------------------
Taar slowly opened his eyes and saw hyperspace swirling in front of him. Quickly he leaned forward and hit the controls to bring him back into real space. He glanced at the display; five hundred light-years, in the wrong direction no less. It'd take the better part of a day to make it back to Base One. But he was alive, and for the moment, safe from the Borg. That's what counted. He punched in the coordinates and returned to hyperspace, this time going the right way. He wished he could send out a warning to them, but it was too dangerous to give away his position. Besides, Base One had to have heard about what had happened, and even that idiot aide would be smart enough to call in some reinforcements.
With the ship on autopilot, Taar got up and tried to assess the damage. Anything that wasn't nailed down had been sucked out during the decompression, including the pilot. Taar really didn't feel sorry for him, and it was certainly no great loss to the Empire. Thankfully the equipment lockers had remained sealed, and he managed to find some emergency rations. The low quality of field rations is a universal constant, but Taar gorged himself on them as if it were roast nerf with drippings. Finally, his physical needs tended to, he began looking at the condition of the ship itself. Some damage had been done to the ramp obviously, but it was still holding itself together. If worse came to worse, he could always use a plasma torch to cut through the viewplate in order to get out. The engines, however, had been put under an even heavier strain during his escape. The stress had caused some damage to the hyperdrive motivator, a pretty serious problem considering he was flying through Borg space. If he should be forced back into real space and run into even a single cube, he'd have no hope. The weapons of this shuttle just aren't strong enough to do any real damage, he thought. If they show up.... If they showed up, he'd follow Admiral Piett's example. Hopefully it wouldn't come to that. In the meantime, he had a pretty long journey ahead, so he settled back for some rest. It would be nice to be unconscious voluntarily for a change, he thought as he stretched out on the bunk and closed his eyes. Again, visions of dying Borg filled his mind, and the twinges of a smile could be seen on his face.
--------------------------------------------------------------
The planet of Cordis hung against the backdrop of space, its green surface flecked with streaks of brown, tapering to a pale blue at its poles. Its reflected brightness, in contrast to the dotted blackness of space, revealed a beauty that was both subtle and simple. An ancient Caamasi poet once said that worlds are the jewels of space, that even the most foul planet gained an elegance and sense of peace that, for better or worse, it was a sanctuary. Unfortunately, peace, beauty and sanctuary have no meaning to those who now approached the calm world of Cordis. "Approaching planet in Grid 1092 of Unimatrix 02 prime, settlement of species 11035. Estimated population: approximately 97,000,000. Scanning..." The four cubes hung over the world. "Current population: 218,641. Commencing assimilation."
Grand Admiral Thrawn, having observed the effectiveness of the Borg first hand, had recommended the Cordisi evacuate the world before Piett had even arrived. Of course, there were always the brave, foolish, stubborn, or just unlucky. They were there to hear the message that broadcast on every frequency across the planet. "We are the Borg. You will be assimilated. Your culture will adapt to service us. Resistance is futile."
The Cordisi were a short species with a hardened exoskeleton covered with thick hairs, and a long history of combat. Many of those that stayed behind were members of combat orders that had passed down their knowledge for ten thousand generations, and considered it an unacceptable sin not to fight to defend their world to the bitter end. They prepared traps and set up choke points, made contingency plans for breaches. It was unfortunate, then, that the Borg didn't fight that way, because perhaps then they might have had even a small chance.
A beam lanced out from the cube in orbit over the city of Ch'suvic and began ripping it apart. The Cordisi weren't sure how to react when the pieces were scooped up and pulled into space. Someone had found the controls to an old planetary ion cannon and blasted at the cube. After a few shots, a green torpedo descended and struck the facility, wiping out the complex while causing minimal damage to the surrounding area. That was the most efficient.
The Cordisi drawn into the cubes were quickly disoriented and captured. Some still attempted to resist even on board the cube, but the approaching Borg overwhelmed them by sheer force of numbers. Just hours after their arrival, the planet of Cordis had been stripped of all technology and its entire sentient population. They were now one with the Borg. The cubes departed, moving on towards the next target for assimilation.
--------------------------------------------------------------
"Captain, the Incaciad is hailing us," said Lt. Travis.
"Onscreen," Picard ordered. Immediately the image of Admiral Thrawn appeared, a thin smile on his face.
"Captain Picard," Thrawn said in a formal tone, "it is my great pleasure to inform you that the negotiations have been a success. As of thirty minutes ago, the Galactic Empire and the Federation officially became military allies."
"That's good news admiral," Picard replied, trying to contain his own excitement. The moment was finally here, he thought. Military alliance, sure, but that was just getting the foot in the door. A grand future for the Federation was beginning at this very moment, and he and his crew had been an instrumental part of it. "How will we be proceeding?"
"Some of the diplomatic party you brought will remain behind on Imperial Center as the Federation ambassadors," Thrawn explained. "The rest will be rendezvousing with us in five days. Also, the ambassadors to the Federation from the Empire will be arriving with them. Once they've all arrived, my ships will escort you to the wormhole, and from there you can take them back to Earth."
"Very good," Picard replied, "Then, if there's nothing else, admiral?"
"We'll contact you, should it be necessary," was Thrawn's only reply. The screen then went blank.
Riker turned to his captain, "Well, it seems our mission has been a success." Riker's tone was completely devoid of any irony; either he'd come around or decided to keep his opinions on the Empire to himself from now on.
"Indeed, Number One," Picard responded in good humor. "Commander, I think this particular mission I have in mind will require your expert talents."
"What do you mean sir?"
"I think that this is a cause for a celebration, don't you?"
Riker grinned, "Of course, sir. I'll use all my Starfleet training, sir."
"Oh I hope not," Picard replied, "I was hoping for something interesting for a change."
--------------------------------------------------------------
A small alarm went off on the control panel for the shuttle, signaling that Taar was finally almost there, and safe. As the countdown completed the ship slipped from hyperspace into real space just twenty thousand kilometers from the station...or rather, where the station was.
Taar's mouth fell open in disbelief. It was the Borg; they must have learned where Base One was from the assimilated soldiers, and now the station was next. He pounded the console; I should have warned them, he chided himself. One man wasn't worth the risk!
Finally, reason overcame guilt. Okay, he hadn't warned Base One in time, but this was obviously just a Borg stepping stone. He had to get through the wormhole and warn the Empire before the Borg swarmed over their galaxy. He pushed the battered engines to the limit; it didn't matter if his ship died on the other side of the wormhole, so long as he could get a message through.
Taar's stomach sank as he saw three of the cubes alter course to intercept him. They were too fast; he'd never make it to the wormhole... at least, not using the sublight engines. A microjump for a ship like this, especially after all they'd been put through, was stupid, but the sight of those Borg cubes enter tractor range made up his mind. His hands flew over the controls and he yanked back on the lever; just as the Borg cube's beam reached for his ship it shot forward and disappeared.
Unfortunately, the damaged motivator wasn't up to the task, and the ship flew at lightspeed right into the wormhole. The swirling tunnel of hyperspace turned from a milky white to a smear of purple, and then a violent red. It was the most unpleasant sensation of Taar's sad little life, his body feeling forces acting on it evolution had never had in mind. The "sky" outside churned and heaved like a living organ trying to expel the tiny shuttle back to where it belongs. There was the squeal of machinery going beyond design limits, and the hyperdrive collapsed in on itself, dropping ship and pilot back into real space. The ordeal made him want to curl up into a fetal position and throw up for a while, but regardless of how he felt he still had to give that warning, so he looked at the read-outs. The sublight engines weren't functioning, the stabilizers weren't operational and, oh, the remnants of the hyperdrive were actually on fire, Taar thought in a detached sort of way. As the sound of the sprays coming on filled the ship, Taar tried to figure out where he was. No sign of Borg, he thought with some relief, which probably meant he'd made it through the wormhole. He added this maneuver to the list of things to never, ever, do again, and started checking over the rest of the ship.
Most of the panels were off-line, including, he noted with frustration, the communications array. Fortunately, he still had the shuttle's emergency homing beacon, assuming he was even in the right galaxy for the Empire to pick him up. But, like so many other things on this trip, it was his only option. He didn't have the kind of training to fix this, and even if he did, he doubted he even had the right tools, what with everything being sucked out of the shuttle. He activated the homing beacon, sat back, and waited. Just to be safe, he gripped the small holdout blaster he'd found in an equipment locker. "Hopefully it wouldn’t come to that," he thought again, but then thought, "only if my luck changes."
--------------------------------------------------------------
Talon Karrde was shaken awake by Roolith. "What is it?" he groaned. He'd been up the previous thirty-six hours and was really hoping to grab some kind of sleep before they hit the main trade route. You had to be careful even out here on the rim; the Empire was a lot swifter with their "justice" then they tended to be in the core.
"I think you'll want to hear this, Karrde," Roolith said, flipping the comm switch. The voice was deafening.
"We are the Borg. Lower your shields and surrender your ship. You will be assimilated; resistance is futile."
"What the hell was that?" Karrde demanded. He activated the panel nearby, and two cube-shaped ships appeared; the scale made his jaw drop. "What do you say we get out of here," he said, hopping out of his cabin.
"I think the crew will back you up on that, Talon," Roolith said, following him. Karrde paused as he saw the ships through the viewscreen, and he wondered if his luck had finally run out.
Chuck
-
Sonnenburg
- Official Dave Barry Clone
- Posts: 2305
- Joined: 2002-11-05 08:35pm
- Location: Gotham City
- Contact:
Remember, two parts were posted yesterday. Don't start this one if you missed one of them.
Part IX
Two days after the alliance had become official, Picard and Seven were escorted aboard the Incaciad to meet with Admiral Thrawn in person. No one had said why, but there was a grim atmosphere that was impossible to ignore. The armored personnel, whom Picard had learned were called "stormtroopers" –bringing up some rather nasty images from his studies of the twentieth century– led him to the conference room where Thrawn and several other high-ranking officers were waiting. Thrawn motioned Picard and Seven to take a seat.
"I'm afraid we have some rather unpleasant business to discuss," Thrawn began. "As you may or may not have known, the Empire has been at war with the Borg for over a month now."
"Yes," Picard said, his voice even, "we noticed Borg weapon signatures on one of your ships when we first arrived. We'd been waiting to hear what exactly was going on."
Thrawn sighed and continued. "We sent a fleet of ships in to deal with the Borg, to cause them some damage and show them we weren't to be trifled with. Unfortunately, according to Lt. Taar," he nodded in the direction of the scruffy looking gentlemen across the table from Picard, "it seems we underestimated them. The Borg have defeated our forces and assimilated our people."
Picard leaned forward in his chair, his mouth open in shock. The Borg with Imperial technology, he thought. That was the worst possible scenario he could imagine. "How did this happen?" Lt. Taar went over what he had seen of the climactic battle between the Borg and the Imperial fleet, of its annihilation, his near capture, and his witnessing the destruction of Base One.
"Admiral Piett made a fatal error," Thrawn said. "He moved the entire fleet in to bombard the planet, when the task could have been completed by a single star destroyer. That led to their being trapped."
Picard looked to Seven, his confusion evident. "The hyperdrive can't be activated near a large gravitational field," she explained. "I would surmise that the fleet was unable to activate the drive and escape, and was then assimilated."
"Correct," Thrawn said. "And immediately they knew all that we do, that's why they took over Base One."
"Yes, it seems your little war has backfired," Picard commented despite himself. However much he wanted this alliance, mixing things up with the Borg was always the last thing he wanted to do.
"Our little war," Thrawn replied, "remember, we're allies now."
"Yes, we will assist in whatever way we can," Picard added diplomatically.
"Good, that's why I asked you to come to this meeting. We need to know some things about the Borg."
Picard nodded slowly. "You mean our first hand experience as Borg."
"Yes," Thrawn said. "We have tactical data. What we need is someone with your unique experience. You two were both assimilated by the Collective. You should be able to give me some insight into their ways of thinking."
Picard let out an exasperated sigh. "I don't really know..."
"What do you wish to know?" Seven asked.
"The Borg have had access to much of our military technology," Thrawn said. "I've no doubt they've learned to use our hyperdrive for certain, which means that their speed and range will be greater than what it has been in the past. What I want to know is, will they come through the wormhole, or continue to conquer in their own galaxy?"
Seven considered for a moment. "Did the members of your personnel who were assimilated know of our involvement with you?"
Thrawn looked over at the man identified as Lt. Taar. "I didn't know," Taar said. "But I can't speak for the senior officers."
"In either event," Picard said, "the personnel on the space station, Base One, knew of our arrival. If the Borg assimilated them, they'd know of our involvement."
Seven considered it all for a short time. "There is a small possibility the Borg may attempt to assimilate the Federation since the Borg know they possess similar technology." Seven paused for a few seconds. "However, the most likely course of action would be to come through the wormhole. They would perceive the Empire as an immediate threat and attempt assimilation and/or extermination."
Quite the diplomat, Picard thought. "We'll have to warn Starfleet," he said.
Thrawn shook his head while he thought. "Unwise captain. If the Borg were planning on invading our galaxy they'd mass a fleet of cubes on the other side, you'd never get through to reach them, and your communications would take years to get to Earth."
"I understand the risks," Picard said. "But it's my duty to warn the Federation of any threat, especially one from the Borg."
"I can't risk losing your ship, captain," Thrawn said. "You and your people have been at this longer than we have-"
"Yes, which is why I've no interest in seeing us lose now," Picard said sharply. "All thanks to a war you started."
Thrawn leaned forward towards Picard. "We have lost ten star destroyers, a space station, hundreds of thousands of lives, and our greatest ship against an enemy that you introduced us to. If not for the Federation, there would have been no war."
Picard paused. "My apologies, admiral. You're right, of course. What do you propose?"
Thrawn signaled several of his aides, who got up and began walking out. "I've had thirty Imperial Dreadnaughts on standby in case of such an event. They'll be arriving here in twelve hours. I've already evacuated Napuli, Cordis, Trelam, and issued warnings to all systems within five hundred light-years. We'll be expecting reinforcements from throughout the galaxy should a total invasion begin. I'm also planning on speaking with the Emperor directly on this."
"Are you planning to blockade the wormhole?"
"No," Thrawn said. "That would be a waste of resources in a fruitless effort. The Borg will overrun us, assimilate the system anyway, and then proceed to attack the rest of the galaxy, and that's assuming they haven't already passed through the wormhole. No captain, our best course of action is to remain here and await reinforcements to ensure our victory. Now, if you'll excuse me, captain, I have to speak with the Emperor."
Picard and Seven were escorted back to the shuttle. The Incaciad had their shields up all the time now; now it was obvious that it was in case the Borg returned. Seven took the controls, Picard lounged back in thought. "What chance does the Federation have?" he asked quietly.
"None, captain," Seven said. "The Borg's first failure was in failing to consider that you may infiltrate non-critical systems yet cause a critical failure. The second was assuming that since that was the sole cause of their initial failure, that simply sending a cube and avoiding such infiltration was all that was required. If the Borg come again, it will be in superior numbers, captain, and even if the Federation does succeed, the hyperdrive will allow the next wave to come before you can recover from the first. If the Borg choose to assimilate the Federation, warning or no, they cannot be stopped."
Picard tried to ignore the tightness in his chest, but it wasn't easy. "How could they have done this so quickly?" he mused. "It took Starfleet weeks to determine how to set up the hyperdrive, and that was with one already integrated into our ships."
"They are Borg," Seven said, as if it said all. Sadly, it did.
"How would you feel if Earth was assimilated?" Picard asked.
Seven looked over at him with that penetrating gaze of hers. "I assume that question is intended to determine where my loyalties lie."
"It would make me feel better to know you have a personal stake in it," Picard said. Seven opened her mouth to reply, then turned away. "I assume you don't."
"I- I had spent over two years with Voyager," Seven said finally, still not looking at him. "Were the Borg to invade, they would no doubt be part of those forced to defend Earth. It would be... unpleasant to learn that any of them had been assimilated."
"So you do care, at least about them."
"I would not wish to see harm come to them," Seven said. "If I may, captain, I find this conversation uncomfortable, and wish to terminate it."
"Very well," Picard said, putting the information aside for later consideration. He was wondering if there was more to his advisor than her appearance suggested.
--------------------------------------------------------------
A large gathering had formed in the recreation area on board Home One. Occasionally, a whispered comment was made, followed by several noises for quiet. The rebels looked carefully at both sides, trying to guess who would make the wrong move, and who would take advantage of the other's momentary weakness.
Han slowly looked back from his hand to the man across the table. Lando's face betrayed nothing, and the smuggler slowly removed a card from his hand and placed it beneath the deck, replacing it with one from the top. Now it was Lando's turn to consider his options. Finally, he reached forward and drew a card off the top of the deck.
Leia, slowly slid through the crowd to get a good look at the two men; gamblers, scoundrels, heroes. She shifted over by Wedge, who had been forced out of the match by a bomb out. Han looked over at Lando and gave a slight nod, and they both took two card from their hands and placed them face up on the table. Curious, Leia whispered to Wedge "What are they doing?" Very quietly, he replied, "Mandolarian variant. No shifting, and you have to slowly reveal and commit your hand." Looking back, she saw things were getting even more interesting. Lando had laid the mistress of coins and the one of staves, a rather gutsy move, committing him to a rather low card later on. Han, however, surprised all with a two of staves and the idiot. All he needed was the three of any suit for the idiot's array, the highest possible sabacc hand. Acknowledging each other's hands, they dropped more credits into the pots.
You could actually hear the sound of the cards sliding off the deck as the game continued. Han continued to replace cards in his hand, waiting for that game clinching three, while Lando steadily continued, soon dropping a four of coins. Both men drew one more card, and Lando announced that he was finished. Triumphantly, he placed his final card: the five of sabers. A few gasps of surprise were heard as they counted them up: a perfect sabacc. Lando had this hand clinched, unless Han held a three.
Slowly Han reached out and placed his card on the bottom of the deck. His fingers stopped just as he reached for the top card. "I'll give you one chance to back out right now," he said to Lando. Lando remained stone-faced, and Han shrugged to the crowd and confidently flipped the top card onto the table. The crowd stared in utter surprise. Han smiled and looked down at the card and then at Lando, and then quickly back at the cards again. The queen of air and darkness, giving Han a score of zero, which not only cost him the match, but meant he had to double the value of the pot. Leia tried not to laugh as Han looked back between his cards and Lando and his cards again. As the crowd dispersed Han picked up the deck. "Are there any threes in here," he mumbled, shuffling through the pile while Lando laughed.
"Nice try," Lando said, looking through the pot, "That's quite a sum you owe. Maybe I should just take your ship."
"Sure, no problem," Han said as he continued his quest for a three, "would you like me to throw in my Wookiee too?" A growl from nearby answered him. "Take it easy, Chewie, I'm only kidding." Disgusted, he tossed the deck back on the table. "This isn't over yet."
"Of course not," Lando said, "I don't have my money."
"Not to interrupt this display of respectability and selflessness," Leia said, "but you're both needed at an important meeting." Leia hadn't oversold it; Mon Mothma, Admiral Ackbar, General Madine, and General Riekken were all on hand, and no one else. This must have been something pretty big.
"I'm afraid that things in the Napuli System have gotten out of hand," Mon Mothma said in a rather worried tone. "It seems the aliens called the Borg have invaded our galaxy."
"We're sure about this?" Han asked.
General Madine spoke up. "One of my agents spoke with a Talon Karrde; he encountered the Borg on his way back from a smuggling run to Trelam II. The sensor data he provided confirms that it is the Borg."
"Oh... great," Han said darkly.
"I want you all to appreciate the significance of this," Mon Mothma said. "Not only did they overwhelm Lord Vader's hand-picked fleet of star destroyers and the Executor, they destroyed an Imperial battlestation that guards the wormhole. They are a grave threat."
"According to our sources," General Madine said, "the Empire is massing a fleet of starships to attempt to destroy the Borg in one stroke. They won't be in place for at least a week."
"Have we made our decision?" Lando asked. "Are we joining forces with the Empire to fight the Borg?"
"Not at this time," Mon Mothma answered. "Though if they seem to be overwhelming the Imperial fleet we may be forced into that position. We cannot allow our worlds to be overrun by these invaders."
Admiral Ackbar spoke up at this point. "There is, however, an opportunity here that we could take advantage of. With the battlestation out of the way there are no Imperial forces to stop us from using the wormhole to go to the other galaxy."
"Well, yeah," Han said, "and with good reason. These Borg are probably all over the system."
"Yes, but they're not concerned with guarding the wormhole," Mon Mothma said. "They more than likely are expecting an attack by the Imperial fleet, not an attempt to sneak past them and into the other galaxy. With surprise on our side and a little planning, we should be able to get through the wormhole safely."
"Why would we want to go there?" Han asked. "What's so important on the other side?"
General Madine hesitated, but spoke up. "We don't know. That's why we need people to go there, to find out what the Empire is involved in. There's got to be more to this galaxy than the Federation and the Borg. We could find new allies, or at least those who can tell us more about our new enemies."
General Riekken finally began speaking. "I've been asked to organize the effort to establish a small base in the other galaxy. Work's already begun on that, but what we'll also need in large amounts are courage and," he floundered slightly, "your unique talents."
Lando and Han looked at one another and back at the general. "Look," Han said, "I'm willing to put my neck on the line, but I want to know it's for a good reason."
"You volunteered for the Endor shield mission," Mon Mothma pointed out. "That was a far greater risk than this."
Leia looked with some surprise at Han, but he pretended not to notice. "Yeah, a risk, but a risk that could've ended this war in one fell swoop. I don't mind risking my life for that, but risking it by running past cyborgs and heading for the unknown just for the sake of reconnaissance, that seems a little unnecessary."
"General Solo, if you don't want to go..." Mon Mothma began.
"I'm not saying that," Han insisted, "I'm just saying if we're going to do this, we better do it right and we better be doing it for a good reason. We'll be splitting up our forces, we'll be risking our people, our resources..."
"We've considered this, Solo," Ackbar said, "and we've decided it's worth the effort."
"Fine," Lando said, "so who's all going?"
"You and General Solo will be responsible for information gathering," Riekken said. "Her highness," he nodded, indicating Leia, "will be responsible for diplomacy, should it be necessary. Commander Antilles will be responsible for fighter co-ordination, and Colonel Derlin will be responsible for base security. I'll be in command of the overall mission."
"Fine, when do we leave?" Han asked.
"Five days. That should give us plenty of time to get everything assembled, and still beat the Imperials to the wormhole."
"The Empire's a piece of cake," Lando said. "It's the Borg we've got to worry about."
--------------------------------------------------------------
The Emperor looked with some distaste at Thrawn as he appeared in the hologram. He would have been such a great leader if he weren't so....alien. "What is it, admiral?"
"It seems Piett and his fleet have failed, my lord," Thrawn said. "He failed to follow instructions, and now he and all our Imperial forces in the Milky Way have been either destroyed or assimilated."
The Emperor felt his anger swelling, both at the situation, and Thrawn's indirect implication that the Emperor's decision was responsible. "How could this have happened?" Thrawn began to explain, but the Emperor stopped him. "Nevermind! What have you done to resolve this?"
"For the moment, I've activated our reserve forces," Thrawn said. "But I don't believe it will be enough. Without greater support, we may not succed..." Thrawn looked away for a few seconds. "Apologies, your highness, it seems the Borg have arrived. They're on a direct course for-"
Suddenly Thrawn's image vanished, and in its place stood a large cybernetic being. The Emperor looked at it with disgust at first, then recognized the face beneath the implants. Captain Lennox?! The Emperor knew he was part of Vader's fleet; rather independent thinker but an effective leader. "I speak for the Borg," the hologram said. "We have come to bring you perfection. Your biological and technological distinctiveness will be added to our own. Your culture will..."
The captain's neck began to twitch and convulse and he stopped speaking. His neck began to visibly contract and finally, the man who once was Captain Lennox fell out of range of the holotransmitter, the sound of cracking trachea indicating death. The Emperor released his grip as the image of Admiral Thrawn returned.
"What are your orders, my lord?"
Hatred burned through the Emperor at the gall of these aliens to invade his domain. "Your orders, admiral," his voice just above a whisper, "are to wipe the Borg from the face of the galaxy!"
Part IX
Two days after the alliance had become official, Picard and Seven were escorted aboard the Incaciad to meet with Admiral Thrawn in person. No one had said why, but there was a grim atmosphere that was impossible to ignore. The armored personnel, whom Picard had learned were called "stormtroopers" –bringing up some rather nasty images from his studies of the twentieth century– led him to the conference room where Thrawn and several other high-ranking officers were waiting. Thrawn motioned Picard and Seven to take a seat.
"I'm afraid we have some rather unpleasant business to discuss," Thrawn began. "As you may or may not have known, the Empire has been at war with the Borg for over a month now."
"Yes," Picard said, his voice even, "we noticed Borg weapon signatures on one of your ships when we first arrived. We'd been waiting to hear what exactly was going on."
Thrawn sighed and continued. "We sent a fleet of ships in to deal with the Borg, to cause them some damage and show them we weren't to be trifled with. Unfortunately, according to Lt. Taar," he nodded in the direction of the scruffy looking gentlemen across the table from Picard, "it seems we underestimated them. The Borg have defeated our forces and assimilated our people."
Picard leaned forward in his chair, his mouth open in shock. The Borg with Imperial technology, he thought. That was the worst possible scenario he could imagine. "How did this happen?" Lt. Taar went over what he had seen of the climactic battle between the Borg and the Imperial fleet, of its annihilation, his near capture, and his witnessing the destruction of Base One.
"Admiral Piett made a fatal error," Thrawn said. "He moved the entire fleet in to bombard the planet, when the task could have been completed by a single star destroyer. That led to their being trapped."
Picard looked to Seven, his confusion evident. "The hyperdrive can't be activated near a large gravitational field," she explained. "I would surmise that the fleet was unable to activate the drive and escape, and was then assimilated."
"Correct," Thrawn said. "And immediately they knew all that we do, that's why they took over Base One."
"Yes, it seems your little war has backfired," Picard commented despite himself. However much he wanted this alliance, mixing things up with the Borg was always the last thing he wanted to do.
"Our little war," Thrawn replied, "remember, we're allies now."
"Yes, we will assist in whatever way we can," Picard added diplomatically.
"Good, that's why I asked you to come to this meeting. We need to know some things about the Borg."
Picard nodded slowly. "You mean our first hand experience as Borg."
"Yes," Thrawn said. "We have tactical data. What we need is someone with your unique experience. You two were both assimilated by the Collective. You should be able to give me some insight into their ways of thinking."
Picard let out an exasperated sigh. "I don't really know..."
"What do you wish to know?" Seven asked.
"The Borg have had access to much of our military technology," Thrawn said. "I've no doubt they've learned to use our hyperdrive for certain, which means that their speed and range will be greater than what it has been in the past. What I want to know is, will they come through the wormhole, or continue to conquer in their own galaxy?"
Seven considered for a moment. "Did the members of your personnel who were assimilated know of our involvement with you?"
Thrawn looked over at the man identified as Lt. Taar. "I didn't know," Taar said. "But I can't speak for the senior officers."
"In either event," Picard said, "the personnel on the space station, Base One, knew of our arrival. If the Borg assimilated them, they'd know of our involvement."
Seven considered it all for a short time. "There is a small possibility the Borg may attempt to assimilate the Federation since the Borg know they possess similar technology." Seven paused for a few seconds. "However, the most likely course of action would be to come through the wormhole. They would perceive the Empire as an immediate threat and attempt assimilation and/or extermination."
Quite the diplomat, Picard thought. "We'll have to warn Starfleet," he said.
Thrawn shook his head while he thought. "Unwise captain. If the Borg were planning on invading our galaxy they'd mass a fleet of cubes on the other side, you'd never get through to reach them, and your communications would take years to get to Earth."
"I understand the risks," Picard said. "But it's my duty to warn the Federation of any threat, especially one from the Borg."
"I can't risk losing your ship, captain," Thrawn said. "You and your people have been at this longer than we have-"
"Yes, which is why I've no interest in seeing us lose now," Picard said sharply. "All thanks to a war you started."
Thrawn leaned forward towards Picard. "We have lost ten star destroyers, a space station, hundreds of thousands of lives, and our greatest ship against an enemy that you introduced us to. If not for the Federation, there would have been no war."
Picard paused. "My apologies, admiral. You're right, of course. What do you propose?"
Thrawn signaled several of his aides, who got up and began walking out. "I've had thirty Imperial Dreadnaughts on standby in case of such an event. They'll be arriving here in twelve hours. I've already evacuated Napuli, Cordis, Trelam, and issued warnings to all systems within five hundred light-years. We'll be expecting reinforcements from throughout the galaxy should a total invasion begin. I'm also planning on speaking with the Emperor directly on this."
"Are you planning to blockade the wormhole?"
"No," Thrawn said. "That would be a waste of resources in a fruitless effort. The Borg will overrun us, assimilate the system anyway, and then proceed to attack the rest of the galaxy, and that's assuming they haven't already passed through the wormhole. No captain, our best course of action is to remain here and await reinforcements to ensure our victory. Now, if you'll excuse me, captain, I have to speak with the Emperor."
Picard and Seven were escorted back to the shuttle. The Incaciad had their shields up all the time now; now it was obvious that it was in case the Borg returned. Seven took the controls, Picard lounged back in thought. "What chance does the Federation have?" he asked quietly.
"None, captain," Seven said. "The Borg's first failure was in failing to consider that you may infiltrate non-critical systems yet cause a critical failure. The second was assuming that since that was the sole cause of their initial failure, that simply sending a cube and avoiding such infiltration was all that was required. If the Borg come again, it will be in superior numbers, captain, and even if the Federation does succeed, the hyperdrive will allow the next wave to come before you can recover from the first. If the Borg choose to assimilate the Federation, warning or no, they cannot be stopped."
Picard tried to ignore the tightness in his chest, but it wasn't easy. "How could they have done this so quickly?" he mused. "It took Starfleet weeks to determine how to set up the hyperdrive, and that was with one already integrated into our ships."
"They are Borg," Seven said, as if it said all. Sadly, it did.
"How would you feel if Earth was assimilated?" Picard asked.
Seven looked over at him with that penetrating gaze of hers. "I assume that question is intended to determine where my loyalties lie."
"It would make me feel better to know you have a personal stake in it," Picard said. Seven opened her mouth to reply, then turned away. "I assume you don't."
"I- I had spent over two years with Voyager," Seven said finally, still not looking at him. "Were the Borg to invade, they would no doubt be part of those forced to defend Earth. It would be... unpleasant to learn that any of them had been assimilated."
"So you do care, at least about them."
"I would not wish to see harm come to them," Seven said. "If I may, captain, I find this conversation uncomfortable, and wish to terminate it."
"Very well," Picard said, putting the information aside for later consideration. He was wondering if there was more to his advisor than her appearance suggested.
--------------------------------------------------------------
A large gathering had formed in the recreation area on board Home One. Occasionally, a whispered comment was made, followed by several noises for quiet. The rebels looked carefully at both sides, trying to guess who would make the wrong move, and who would take advantage of the other's momentary weakness.
Han slowly looked back from his hand to the man across the table. Lando's face betrayed nothing, and the smuggler slowly removed a card from his hand and placed it beneath the deck, replacing it with one from the top. Now it was Lando's turn to consider his options. Finally, he reached forward and drew a card off the top of the deck.
Leia, slowly slid through the crowd to get a good look at the two men; gamblers, scoundrels, heroes. She shifted over by Wedge, who had been forced out of the match by a bomb out. Han looked over at Lando and gave a slight nod, and they both took two card from their hands and placed them face up on the table. Curious, Leia whispered to Wedge "What are they doing?" Very quietly, he replied, "Mandolarian variant. No shifting, and you have to slowly reveal and commit your hand." Looking back, she saw things were getting even more interesting. Lando had laid the mistress of coins and the one of staves, a rather gutsy move, committing him to a rather low card later on. Han, however, surprised all with a two of staves and the idiot. All he needed was the three of any suit for the idiot's array, the highest possible sabacc hand. Acknowledging each other's hands, they dropped more credits into the pots.
You could actually hear the sound of the cards sliding off the deck as the game continued. Han continued to replace cards in his hand, waiting for that game clinching three, while Lando steadily continued, soon dropping a four of coins. Both men drew one more card, and Lando announced that he was finished. Triumphantly, he placed his final card: the five of sabers. A few gasps of surprise were heard as they counted them up: a perfect sabacc. Lando had this hand clinched, unless Han held a three.
Slowly Han reached out and placed his card on the bottom of the deck. His fingers stopped just as he reached for the top card. "I'll give you one chance to back out right now," he said to Lando. Lando remained stone-faced, and Han shrugged to the crowd and confidently flipped the top card onto the table. The crowd stared in utter surprise. Han smiled and looked down at the card and then at Lando, and then quickly back at the cards again. The queen of air and darkness, giving Han a score of zero, which not only cost him the match, but meant he had to double the value of the pot. Leia tried not to laugh as Han looked back between his cards and Lando and his cards again. As the crowd dispersed Han picked up the deck. "Are there any threes in here," he mumbled, shuffling through the pile while Lando laughed.
"Nice try," Lando said, looking through the pot, "That's quite a sum you owe. Maybe I should just take your ship."
"Sure, no problem," Han said as he continued his quest for a three, "would you like me to throw in my Wookiee too?" A growl from nearby answered him. "Take it easy, Chewie, I'm only kidding." Disgusted, he tossed the deck back on the table. "This isn't over yet."
"Of course not," Lando said, "I don't have my money."
"Not to interrupt this display of respectability and selflessness," Leia said, "but you're both needed at an important meeting." Leia hadn't oversold it; Mon Mothma, Admiral Ackbar, General Madine, and General Riekken were all on hand, and no one else. This must have been something pretty big.
"I'm afraid that things in the Napuli System have gotten out of hand," Mon Mothma said in a rather worried tone. "It seems the aliens called the Borg have invaded our galaxy."
"We're sure about this?" Han asked.
General Madine spoke up. "One of my agents spoke with a Talon Karrde; he encountered the Borg on his way back from a smuggling run to Trelam II. The sensor data he provided confirms that it is the Borg."
"Oh... great," Han said darkly.
"I want you all to appreciate the significance of this," Mon Mothma said. "Not only did they overwhelm Lord Vader's hand-picked fleet of star destroyers and the Executor, they destroyed an Imperial battlestation that guards the wormhole. They are a grave threat."
"According to our sources," General Madine said, "the Empire is massing a fleet of starships to attempt to destroy the Borg in one stroke. They won't be in place for at least a week."
"Have we made our decision?" Lando asked. "Are we joining forces with the Empire to fight the Borg?"
"Not at this time," Mon Mothma answered. "Though if they seem to be overwhelming the Imperial fleet we may be forced into that position. We cannot allow our worlds to be overrun by these invaders."
Admiral Ackbar spoke up at this point. "There is, however, an opportunity here that we could take advantage of. With the battlestation out of the way there are no Imperial forces to stop us from using the wormhole to go to the other galaxy."
"Well, yeah," Han said, "and with good reason. These Borg are probably all over the system."
"Yes, but they're not concerned with guarding the wormhole," Mon Mothma said. "They more than likely are expecting an attack by the Imperial fleet, not an attempt to sneak past them and into the other galaxy. With surprise on our side and a little planning, we should be able to get through the wormhole safely."
"Why would we want to go there?" Han asked. "What's so important on the other side?"
General Madine hesitated, but spoke up. "We don't know. That's why we need people to go there, to find out what the Empire is involved in. There's got to be more to this galaxy than the Federation and the Borg. We could find new allies, or at least those who can tell us more about our new enemies."
General Riekken finally began speaking. "I've been asked to organize the effort to establish a small base in the other galaxy. Work's already begun on that, but what we'll also need in large amounts are courage and," he floundered slightly, "your unique talents."
Lando and Han looked at one another and back at the general. "Look," Han said, "I'm willing to put my neck on the line, but I want to know it's for a good reason."
"You volunteered for the Endor shield mission," Mon Mothma pointed out. "That was a far greater risk than this."
Leia looked with some surprise at Han, but he pretended not to notice. "Yeah, a risk, but a risk that could've ended this war in one fell swoop. I don't mind risking my life for that, but risking it by running past cyborgs and heading for the unknown just for the sake of reconnaissance, that seems a little unnecessary."
"General Solo, if you don't want to go..." Mon Mothma began.
"I'm not saying that," Han insisted, "I'm just saying if we're going to do this, we better do it right and we better be doing it for a good reason. We'll be splitting up our forces, we'll be risking our people, our resources..."
"We've considered this, Solo," Ackbar said, "and we've decided it's worth the effort."
"Fine," Lando said, "so who's all going?"
"You and General Solo will be responsible for information gathering," Riekken said. "Her highness," he nodded, indicating Leia, "will be responsible for diplomacy, should it be necessary. Commander Antilles will be responsible for fighter co-ordination, and Colonel Derlin will be responsible for base security. I'll be in command of the overall mission."
"Fine, when do we leave?" Han asked.
"Five days. That should give us plenty of time to get everything assembled, and still beat the Imperials to the wormhole."
"The Empire's a piece of cake," Lando said. "It's the Borg we've got to worry about."
--------------------------------------------------------------
The Emperor looked with some distaste at Thrawn as he appeared in the hologram. He would have been such a great leader if he weren't so....alien. "What is it, admiral?"
"It seems Piett and his fleet have failed, my lord," Thrawn said. "He failed to follow instructions, and now he and all our Imperial forces in the Milky Way have been either destroyed or assimilated."
The Emperor felt his anger swelling, both at the situation, and Thrawn's indirect implication that the Emperor's decision was responsible. "How could this have happened?" Thrawn began to explain, but the Emperor stopped him. "Nevermind! What have you done to resolve this?"
"For the moment, I've activated our reserve forces," Thrawn said. "But I don't believe it will be enough. Without greater support, we may not succed..." Thrawn looked away for a few seconds. "Apologies, your highness, it seems the Borg have arrived. They're on a direct course for-"
Suddenly Thrawn's image vanished, and in its place stood a large cybernetic being. The Emperor looked at it with disgust at first, then recognized the face beneath the implants. Captain Lennox?! The Emperor knew he was part of Vader's fleet; rather independent thinker but an effective leader. "I speak for the Borg," the hologram said. "We have come to bring you perfection. Your biological and technological distinctiveness will be added to our own. Your culture will..."
The captain's neck began to twitch and convulse and he stopped speaking. His neck began to visibly contract and finally, the man who once was Captain Lennox fell out of range of the holotransmitter, the sound of cracking trachea indicating death. The Emperor released his grip as the image of Admiral Thrawn returned.
"What are your orders, my lord?"
Hatred burned through the Emperor at the gall of these aliens to invade his domain. "Your orders, admiral," his voice just above a whisper, "are to wipe the Borg from the face of the galaxy!"
Chuck
-
Sonnenburg
- Official Dave Barry Clone
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- Contact:
Part X
"We've got it sealed. You're clear to depart."
"Thank you," Han said, trying to keep the sarcasm out of his voice. They'd spent the better part of an hour waiting to depart while a mechanic tried to disconnect the Falcon from the freighter, some kind of ruptured sealant hose. Han resisted the urge to punch it and eased easily out of the main fleet to rendezvous with the "orphan fleet" as it had been nicknamed. Leia took a seat in one of the nav computer chairs while they closed in. Han had to admit that he was rather impressed. The Alliance had committed a full eight squadrons of fighters, a dozen Corvettes, nineteen transports, eight freighters, and even two Star Cruisers to this mission. He saw X-wings, A-wings, B-wings, even a squadron of the older Y-wings, all prepared for the journey where there be dragons, Borg-shaped dragons, anyway. "Riekken's not using any half-measures, huh?" Han remarked to Leia.
A Trilon Aggressor slipped over to the Falcon's port. "Here I thought you were having second thoughts," Lando chided him over the comm.
Han scowled at the comm. "There was a little mechanical trouble, not a big deal."
Lando's laugh could be heard over the comm. "Han, did you crash into a mirror warehouse? Your luck is downright abysmal."
Han ignored him and made some course corrections. He turned as he felt Leia tap his shoulder. She was holding up a small pair of dice on a string. "I found these in a maintenance locker," she said as she handed them to Han. "I guess one of the engineers took them down when he was repairing something on Yavin and forgot to put them back."
Han looked at them for a moment and then gave Leia a lopsided grin. He turned and fastened them to their old place above the cockpit viewport, then keyed the comm. "I have a feeling my luck is about to get a whole lot better," he said looking towards Leia, who smiled at him.
"I hope so," Lando replied, "cause you still owe me three hundred credits." There was silence for a few moments. "Be careful, these Borg sound pretty nasty."
"Hey," Han said, trying to raise the mood, "it's me." And on General Riekken's signal, the fleet slipped off into hyperspace.
--------------------------------------------------------------
Picard finished looking over the communication from the Imperials as the turbolift pulled to a halt. The words took his breath away. He realized he was still standing there and stepped out. "What's the status of our defenses, Number One?" he asked, trying to keep his mind focused in a productive direction.
Riker broke off his conversation with Lt. Travis. "We've programmed a random series of modulations into the shields which should be somewhat resistant to the Borg. All torpedo bays have been prepped for a full confrontation, we've run a level three diagnostic on all weapons systems. Mr. LaForge has made some modifications which will increase warp core output by eleven percent, but we'll have to double our maintenance checks and need to power down in a few days to do some stress repairs, but every watt will help." Picard nodded. "Lt. Travis and I were also discussing the possibility of using the shuttlecrafts to fly close to the cube and transport explosives onto key parts of the Borg cube."
"There are no key parts," Picard said, "no weak spots to exploit." He sighed slightly. "People call the Borg a hive, but they are more like a hydra, cut off one head, and there's another waiting for you." He stood in silence for a moment. "Perhaps resistance really is futile," he said under his breath.
Riker stood quietly for some time. Finally he spoke. "Captain, I'd like to discuss something in your ready room."
As the door closed Picard spoke to Riker. "So, tell me what is so important?"
"Permission to speak freely, sir?"
"If this is about the Empire, Will, this is a bad ti-"
"It's not about the Empire, sir, it's about you." Riker hesitated. "Captain, you've just so much admitted that we can't defeat the Borg. Right now, on that bridge."
Picard slowly eased into his chair. "Your point?" he asked coolly.
Riker stood in stunned silence. "All I know is that the Captain Picard I trained under never shared his doubts with the crew," Riker said, leaning forward on the table. "The Captain Picard I know would never consider that his crew would fail."
"I'm not saying this crew will fail," Picard said much louder than necessary. He quickly shifted his view away from Riker. "But what is the point, Will? Even if we do defeat them, what then? They will come again, and again, and again, and eventually they will wear us down and we will lose." He sighed. "I'm sorry. The report from the Empire indicates the Borg have eighty-seven cubes here. I think of that, and then I reflect on my conversation with Seven, about how with hyperdrive the Borg are now living on our doorstep... it's opened my eyes to just how dangerous the situation is. We've been living on borrowed time, Will, and we went about our business as if we would always outsmart the Borg, always know just what to do. We've been lucky, twice, and yet we act as if our victory is assured."
"We have prepared ourselves, Jean-luc, as best as we possibly can," Riker said.
"Did we?"
"And be true to what we are?" Will asked. "Absolutely, sir. If we'd let panic influence our judgment, we'd have stopped being the Federation and started being the Dominion."
Picard nodded. "That's why you have a problem with our mission... with the Empire."
Riker paused. "It's not just that," he said. "These transmissions we've received, word of the rebellion, I'm not sure we're on the right side here, sir."
Picard folded his hands and leaned towards him. "I've heard some of those transmissions. I'll admit that some are disturbing. There's this one here," Picard pulled out a PADD, "yes, a report of warships bombarding a defenseless settlement to try and placate the entire region. The order came all the way from the top."
"As I said, sir, there's reason for concern."
"Oh, wait," Picard said, "I'm mistaken. This is a broadcast made by the Maquis three years ago about the Federation." He flicked his eyes up at Will. "Did we, in fact, bombard defenseless Maquis settlements?"
"Sir, I just-"
"I understand, Will," Picard said, "and I do take this very seriously. But I think we have to look at the situation objectively. So far all our involvements with the Empire have shown that they are reasonable beings. They've made no gestures of hostility towards us, and we both know that with their speed and firepower they could overwhelm the Federation almost as quickly as the Borg can."
"Why bother, when they can acquire the Federation without firing a shot?" Riker held up his hands in a placating gesture. "I know I wasn't the biggest fan of the Empire before, but these transmissions concern me. First it was the Republic, now it's the Empire. That doesn't strike me as being an improvement."
"Come on, Will," Picard said. "You know that between the British Empire and the People's Republic of China, it was the empire that was the more free and tolerant civilization. They're just words, Will."
"And the rebellion?" Riker asked.
"The rebellion," Picard said sharply, "is by definition not our problem. The prime directive is crystal clear on that. We cannot involve ourselves in the internal affairs of the Empire, and that includes their rebel forces. Now I promise you that when this is settled we'll look hard at the situation, but right now we have the deadliest Borg fleet ever assembled within spitting distance of us, and I'd rather focus our energies on our enemy rather than our ally, thank you. That will be all."
Riker's frustration was obvious, but he nodded and showed himself out. Picard turned back to his report, then shook his head again. Eighty-seven... if every power in the alpha quadrant united, could they stop even a tenth of that number? Love them or hate them, Will, he thought, we need the Empire in the frightening place the galaxy had become.
--------------------------------------------------------------
Delric Taar had spent most of his time since his rescue being debriefed, but thankfully he'd finally had a chance to clean up and get some real sleep. It had done wonders for his constitution, and he'd needed it. The grand admiral wanted Taar to fully update the squadron commanders on the fighter tactics employed against the Borg, and where they did and didn't work, and that had required a lot of thought and energy, but his brush with death, and his thought of all the dead or assimilated pilots, gave him more than adrenaline ever could hope to accomplish.
Taar entered Thrawn's office; it was dark, and for a moment he was worried he was disturbing something. Thrawn turned away from the glow of a hologram and looked at him. "Yes, lieutenant?"
With proper military steps, Taar marched into the room and held out the datapad. "The captain ordered me to present the fighter reports to you personally, sir," he said. Thrawn reached out and took the datapad; Taar stood at parade rest while he looked through it. Thrawn's alien features looked even odder in the low light provided by the hologram, but Taar had heard enough from the other officers to know not to let that affect his thinking. Thrawn was top of the line, or he wouldn't be here.
"Are we ready to launch an attack?" Thrawn asked, not looking up from the datapad.
Taar hesitated. "The commanders have been briefed, but they haven't had enough time to run battle simulations with their men, and many of the tactics are still only theoretical."
Thrawn continued reading the datapad, apparently not listening. "It's the area of space where we'll be launching our attack in two days," he remarked. How had he known Taar was looking it over out of the corner of his eye when he wasn't even looking? "I've been positioning our fleet for an attack on the Borg there." Thrawn smiled. "How does it look?"
Taar was silent for several moments. "Are you asking me my opinion, sir?"
"Do you not understand what a question is, lieutenant?" Thrawn replied.
Delric, you idiot! he thought. You say "it looks very good, sir," and nod when told to. But he had the horrible habit of thinking and not keeping his mouth shut when confronted with a bad idea. Well, you're in this deep, stupid, might as well speak your mind. The worst Thrawn could do was put you on the front line in the next battle. "Well sir," he began, "it seems from this model that the attack is rather two-dimensional in nature, when it would be more effective if we made a sizeable attack along vectors here and here," he pointed at various parts of the hologram. "Also, the Dreadnaughts are in a position to take heavier damage than if they were intermixed with the star destroyers here. Of course, that's just my opinion sir."
Thrawn chuckled quietly. "Yes, and your opinion is quite correct, too... except for the part about the fleet coming from here," he paused, "clearly this would be the better approach vector considering the motion of the fleet."
Taar hesitated; well, in for a penny, in for a pound. "Actually, sir, wouldn't we run a greater risk of hitting our own ships with friendly fire?"
Thrawn clapped his hands slightly. "Well done. You've demonstrated a rather keen grasp of ...."
The comm buzzed and a voice sounded. "Admiral, Captain Picard wishes to speak to you, he claims it's urgent."
Thrawn sighed. "Very well." The image of the space battle flattened into a two dimensional image of the Enterprise bridge and Captain Picard.
"Admiral Thrawn," Picard said, "our long range sensors have detected a group of ships entering the Napuli System. We've identified some Nebulon Frigates, but the rest are unfamiliar to us."
Taar looked at Thrawn with some surprise. "The rebels..." he muttered.
Thrawn ignored him. "I'm aware of the ships, captain. You do realize that we have sensors of our own."
"Of course," Picard replied, "but I was concerned that they may need some assistance. That is the heart of Borg space in this galaxy..."
Thrawn shook his head. "It's too soon. Everyone has been warned to stay away; if the Borg catch them, then that's the price the pay for underestimating them."
"I understand, admiral," Picard said, but he obviously wasn't very happy about it. "Enterprise out."
Thrawn sighed again as the image disappeared. "One thing you'll learn dealing with the Federation," he commented to Taar, "is that they want to solve every problem in the universe, and they want to do it right now. They're a society of idealistic children." Taar said nothing; he'd had pretty much no experience with the Federation and frankly could care less. The Borg were the only thing on his mind lately. "I need someone with experience to have the pilots trained and ready to fight the Borg in two days. Are you up to the task?"
Taar brought himself to full attention. "Absolutely. They'll be ready, sir."
Thrawn replaced the hologram with an image of some type of statue. "Very good, major. I suggest you get started immediately."
Taar saluted and walked out. A promotion and a chance for vengeance on the Borg. This was his lucky day.
--------------------------------------------------------------
This is not my lucky day, thought Han.
The fleet had dropped out of hyperspace right on course, a short distance from the wormhole. Unfortunately, so was a Borg cube. "All fighters," came the orders from the Liberty, Riekken's flagship, "provide cover for the transports." The rest was cut off by Leia and Threepio as Han put the Falcon into a series of crazy maneuvers while Borg weapons tried to catch them.
"We are the Borg. You will be assimilated. Resistance is futile."
"Confident bunch, aren't they," Han grunted putting the ship through several evasive maneuvers.
"We're doomed!" Threepio moaned from the other navigator chair.
"Don't start!" Han warned. He yanked the Falcon into another tight turn as a nearby X-Wing was caught in a tractor beam, slowly pulled towards the cube.
"We've just got to keep them distracted for another minute," Leia said.
"Yeah, well, a lot can happen to us in a minute," Han said with a nervous edge in his voice as he turned some knobs above him. The Falcon's lasers fired, but they stopped short of the cube. "Or very very little," he said, jerking away as a Borg weapon struck a nearby B-Wing. The Liberty was also running cover now, firing its heavy guns at the cube, but it couldn't stay for long. It could beat one cube without breaking a sweat, but every minute wasted trying to engage it was another that allowed some of his friends to get closer.
Chewie suddenly growled something at Han. "What? Where?" Han asked frantically. Chewie pointed and the Falcon came around, and Leia saw the Trillon Agressor caught in the Borg tractor beam.
--------------------------------------------------------------
Luke, Lando's in trouble. Luke didn't hear it, but he heard her words in his mind.
I'm on my way. "Hang on, Artoo," he sound out loud as pushed the X-Wing to full throttle. He closed in, but Han was already there, and two quick concussion missiles vaporized the tractor emitter. Luke adjusted his course slightly and fired a few shots on the surface for all the good it did. But the closer he got, the nagging sensation he had was growing worse and worse, and he realized that what he'd thought was worry was actually the sensation of the Borg. They felt completely wrong. Each was unique, and yet each thought and acted as one. It was like the optical illusion that could be a young woman or an old hag depending on how you looked at it, and it was making his head hurt.
The cube shook under a particularly devastating attack from the star cruiser, and for a moment the many thoughts pulled together. With so many thinking the same thing, it would have been impossible for Luke not to pick up on it. "This is Commander Skywalker," Luke said. "All available fighters, form up on me, Attack Pattern Delta." The ships pulled away and formed a line behind Luke like a string of pearls. Luke led the way around in a wide arc. "Arm your proton torpedoes," he ordered. Got that, Leia?
--------------------------------------------------------------
Yeah, I got it. "Han, there's a weak spot in their defenses," Leia said. "Follow Luke in and fire your missiles."
Han's hands were flying over the controls. "How can you possibly know that?" he asked. He saw Leia shift uncomfortably in her seat. "Forget I said anything," he said, altering course. "I hope you've got a good feeling about this." Luke's X-wing swooped in first, firing his torpedoes and pulling up so the one behind him could do the same. One pair wasn't enough to penetrate, but the endless barrage opened the path for the ones near the back –including the Falcon's missiles– to get through. They slammed into the opening in the cube, and instantly explosions ripped through various parts of the ship. Han looked stunned for a second as pulled up, then grinned. "See, I told you," he said to Chewie, "no problems." Chewie barked a reply. "So, who's the lucky one now, hey Lando?"
"Me," Lando replied, "lucky that you showed up. Thanks."
Han brought the Falcon around and headed towards the wormhole with the rest of the fleet. "Let's hope we don't have to try this again real soon, okay?" And with that, the orphan fleet left the galaxy behind.
"We've got it sealed. You're clear to depart."
"Thank you," Han said, trying to keep the sarcasm out of his voice. They'd spent the better part of an hour waiting to depart while a mechanic tried to disconnect the Falcon from the freighter, some kind of ruptured sealant hose. Han resisted the urge to punch it and eased easily out of the main fleet to rendezvous with the "orphan fleet" as it had been nicknamed. Leia took a seat in one of the nav computer chairs while they closed in. Han had to admit that he was rather impressed. The Alliance had committed a full eight squadrons of fighters, a dozen Corvettes, nineteen transports, eight freighters, and even two Star Cruisers to this mission. He saw X-wings, A-wings, B-wings, even a squadron of the older Y-wings, all prepared for the journey where there be dragons, Borg-shaped dragons, anyway. "Riekken's not using any half-measures, huh?" Han remarked to Leia.
A Trilon Aggressor slipped over to the Falcon's port. "Here I thought you were having second thoughts," Lando chided him over the comm.
Han scowled at the comm. "There was a little mechanical trouble, not a big deal."
Lando's laugh could be heard over the comm. "Han, did you crash into a mirror warehouse? Your luck is downright abysmal."
Han ignored him and made some course corrections. He turned as he felt Leia tap his shoulder. She was holding up a small pair of dice on a string. "I found these in a maintenance locker," she said as she handed them to Han. "I guess one of the engineers took them down when he was repairing something on Yavin and forgot to put them back."
Han looked at them for a moment and then gave Leia a lopsided grin. He turned and fastened them to their old place above the cockpit viewport, then keyed the comm. "I have a feeling my luck is about to get a whole lot better," he said looking towards Leia, who smiled at him.
"I hope so," Lando replied, "cause you still owe me three hundred credits." There was silence for a few moments. "Be careful, these Borg sound pretty nasty."
"Hey," Han said, trying to raise the mood, "it's me." And on General Riekken's signal, the fleet slipped off into hyperspace.
--------------------------------------------------------------
Picard finished looking over the communication from the Imperials as the turbolift pulled to a halt. The words took his breath away. He realized he was still standing there and stepped out. "What's the status of our defenses, Number One?" he asked, trying to keep his mind focused in a productive direction.
Riker broke off his conversation with Lt. Travis. "We've programmed a random series of modulations into the shields which should be somewhat resistant to the Borg. All torpedo bays have been prepped for a full confrontation, we've run a level three diagnostic on all weapons systems. Mr. LaForge has made some modifications which will increase warp core output by eleven percent, but we'll have to double our maintenance checks and need to power down in a few days to do some stress repairs, but every watt will help." Picard nodded. "Lt. Travis and I were also discussing the possibility of using the shuttlecrafts to fly close to the cube and transport explosives onto key parts of the Borg cube."
"There are no key parts," Picard said, "no weak spots to exploit." He sighed slightly. "People call the Borg a hive, but they are more like a hydra, cut off one head, and there's another waiting for you." He stood in silence for a moment. "Perhaps resistance really is futile," he said under his breath.
Riker stood quietly for some time. Finally he spoke. "Captain, I'd like to discuss something in your ready room."
As the door closed Picard spoke to Riker. "So, tell me what is so important?"
"Permission to speak freely, sir?"
"If this is about the Empire, Will, this is a bad ti-"
"It's not about the Empire, sir, it's about you." Riker hesitated. "Captain, you've just so much admitted that we can't defeat the Borg. Right now, on that bridge."
Picard slowly eased into his chair. "Your point?" he asked coolly.
Riker stood in stunned silence. "All I know is that the Captain Picard I trained under never shared his doubts with the crew," Riker said, leaning forward on the table. "The Captain Picard I know would never consider that his crew would fail."
"I'm not saying this crew will fail," Picard said much louder than necessary. He quickly shifted his view away from Riker. "But what is the point, Will? Even if we do defeat them, what then? They will come again, and again, and again, and eventually they will wear us down and we will lose." He sighed. "I'm sorry. The report from the Empire indicates the Borg have eighty-seven cubes here. I think of that, and then I reflect on my conversation with Seven, about how with hyperdrive the Borg are now living on our doorstep... it's opened my eyes to just how dangerous the situation is. We've been living on borrowed time, Will, and we went about our business as if we would always outsmart the Borg, always know just what to do. We've been lucky, twice, and yet we act as if our victory is assured."
"We have prepared ourselves, Jean-luc, as best as we possibly can," Riker said.
"Did we?"
"And be true to what we are?" Will asked. "Absolutely, sir. If we'd let panic influence our judgment, we'd have stopped being the Federation and started being the Dominion."
Picard nodded. "That's why you have a problem with our mission... with the Empire."
Riker paused. "It's not just that," he said. "These transmissions we've received, word of the rebellion, I'm not sure we're on the right side here, sir."
Picard folded his hands and leaned towards him. "I've heard some of those transmissions. I'll admit that some are disturbing. There's this one here," Picard pulled out a PADD, "yes, a report of warships bombarding a defenseless settlement to try and placate the entire region. The order came all the way from the top."
"As I said, sir, there's reason for concern."
"Oh, wait," Picard said, "I'm mistaken. This is a broadcast made by the Maquis three years ago about the Federation." He flicked his eyes up at Will. "Did we, in fact, bombard defenseless Maquis settlements?"
"Sir, I just-"
"I understand, Will," Picard said, "and I do take this very seriously. But I think we have to look at the situation objectively. So far all our involvements with the Empire have shown that they are reasonable beings. They've made no gestures of hostility towards us, and we both know that with their speed and firepower they could overwhelm the Federation almost as quickly as the Borg can."
"Why bother, when they can acquire the Federation without firing a shot?" Riker held up his hands in a placating gesture. "I know I wasn't the biggest fan of the Empire before, but these transmissions concern me. First it was the Republic, now it's the Empire. That doesn't strike me as being an improvement."
"Come on, Will," Picard said. "You know that between the British Empire and the People's Republic of China, it was the empire that was the more free and tolerant civilization. They're just words, Will."
"And the rebellion?" Riker asked.
"The rebellion," Picard said sharply, "is by definition not our problem. The prime directive is crystal clear on that. We cannot involve ourselves in the internal affairs of the Empire, and that includes their rebel forces. Now I promise you that when this is settled we'll look hard at the situation, but right now we have the deadliest Borg fleet ever assembled within spitting distance of us, and I'd rather focus our energies on our enemy rather than our ally, thank you. That will be all."
Riker's frustration was obvious, but he nodded and showed himself out. Picard turned back to his report, then shook his head again. Eighty-seven... if every power in the alpha quadrant united, could they stop even a tenth of that number? Love them or hate them, Will, he thought, we need the Empire in the frightening place the galaxy had become.
--------------------------------------------------------------
Delric Taar had spent most of his time since his rescue being debriefed, but thankfully he'd finally had a chance to clean up and get some real sleep. It had done wonders for his constitution, and he'd needed it. The grand admiral wanted Taar to fully update the squadron commanders on the fighter tactics employed against the Borg, and where they did and didn't work, and that had required a lot of thought and energy, but his brush with death, and his thought of all the dead or assimilated pilots, gave him more than adrenaline ever could hope to accomplish.
Taar entered Thrawn's office; it was dark, and for a moment he was worried he was disturbing something. Thrawn turned away from the glow of a hologram and looked at him. "Yes, lieutenant?"
With proper military steps, Taar marched into the room and held out the datapad. "The captain ordered me to present the fighter reports to you personally, sir," he said. Thrawn reached out and took the datapad; Taar stood at parade rest while he looked through it. Thrawn's alien features looked even odder in the low light provided by the hologram, but Taar had heard enough from the other officers to know not to let that affect his thinking. Thrawn was top of the line, or he wouldn't be here.
"Are we ready to launch an attack?" Thrawn asked, not looking up from the datapad.
Taar hesitated. "The commanders have been briefed, but they haven't had enough time to run battle simulations with their men, and many of the tactics are still only theoretical."
Thrawn continued reading the datapad, apparently not listening. "It's the area of space where we'll be launching our attack in two days," he remarked. How had he known Taar was looking it over out of the corner of his eye when he wasn't even looking? "I've been positioning our fleet for an attack on the Borg there." Thrawn smiled. "How does it look?"
Taar was silent for several moments. "Are you asking me my opinion, sir?"
"Do you not understand what a question is, lieutenant?" Thrawn replied.
Delric, you idiot! he thought. You say "it looks very good, sir," and nod when told to. But he had the horrible habit of thinking and not keeping his mouth shut when confronted with a bad idea. Well, you're in this deep, stupid, might as well speak your mind. The worst Thrawn could do was put you on the front line in the next battle. "Well sir," he began, "it seems from this model that the attack is rather two-dimensional in nature, when it would be more effective if we made a sizeable attack along vectors here and here," he pointed at various parts of the hologram. "Also, the Dreadnaughts are in a position to take heavier damage than if they were intermixed with the star destroyers here. Of course, that's just my opinion sir."
Thrawn chuckled quietly. "Yes, and your opinion is quite correct, too... except for the part about the fleet coming from here," he paused, "clearly this would be the better approach vector considering the motion of the fleet."
Taar hesitated; well, in for a penny, in for a pound. "Actually, sir, wouldn't we run a greater risk of hitting our own ships with friendly fire?"
Thrawn clapped his hands slightly. "Well done. You've demonstrated a rather keen grasp of ...."
The comm buzzed and a voice sounded. "Admiral, Captain Picard wishes to speak to you, he claims it's urgent."
Thrawn sighed. "Very well." The image of the space battle flattened into a two dimensional image of the Enterprise bridge and Captain Picard.
"Admiral Thrawn," Picard said, "our long range sensors have detected a group of ships entering the Napuli System. We've identified some Nebulon Frigates, but the rest are unfamiliar to us."
Taar looked at Thrawn with some surprise. "The rebels..." he muttered.
Thrawn ignored him. "I'm aware of the ships, captain. You do realize that we have sensors of our own."
"Of course," Picard replied, "but I was concerned that they may need some assistance. That is the heart of Borg space in this galaxy..."
Thrawn shook his head. "It's too soon. Everyone has been warned to stay away; if the Borg catch them, then that's the price the pay for underestimating them."
"I understand, admiral," Picard said, but he obviously wasn't very happy about it. "Enterprise out."
Thrawn sighed again as the image disappeared. "One thing you'll learn dealing with the Federation," he commented to Taar, "is that they want to solve every problem in the universe, and they want to do it right now. They're a society of idealistic children." Taar said nothing; he'd had pretty much no experience with the Federation and frankly could care less. The Borg were the only thing on his mind lately. "I need someone with experience to have the pilots trained and ready to fight the Borg in two days. Are you up to the task?"
Taar brought himself to full attention. "Absolutely. They'll be ready, sir."
Thrawn replaced the hologram with an image of some type of statue. "Very good, major. I suggest you get started immediately."
Taar saluted and walked out. A promotion and a chance for vengeance on the Borg. This was his lucky day.
--------------------------------------------------------------
This is not my lucky day, thought Han.
The fleet had dropped out of hyperspace right on course, a short distance from the wormhole. Unfortunately, so was a Borg cube. "All fighters," came the orders from the Liberty, Riekken's flagship, "provide cover for the transports." The rest was cut off by Leia and Threepio as Han put the Falcon into a series of crazy maneuvers while Borg weapons tried to catch them.
"We are the Borg. You will be assimilated. Resistance is futile."
"Confident bunch, aren't they," Han grunted putting the ship through several evasive maneuvers.
"We're doomed!" Threepio moaned from the other navigator chair.
"Don't start!" Han warned. He yanked the Falcon into another tight turn as a nearby X-Wing was caught in a tractor beam, slowly pulled towards the cube.
"We've just got to keep them distracted for another minute," Leia said.
"Yeah, well, a lot can happen to us in a minute," Han said with a nervous edge in his voice as he turned some knobs above him. The Falcon's lasers fired, but they stopped short of the cube. "Or very very little," he said, jerking away as a Borg weapon struck a nearby B-Wing. The Liberty was also running cover now, firing its heavy guns at the cube, but it couldn't stay for long. It could beat one cube without breaking a sweat, but every minute wasted trying to engage it was another that allowed some of his friends to get closer.
Chewie suddenly growled something at Han. "What? Where?" Han asked frantically. Chewie pointed and the Falcon came around, and Leia saw the Trillon Agressor caught in the Borg tractor beam.
--------------------------------------------------------------
Luke, Lando's in trouble. Luke didn't hear it, but he heard her words in his mind.
I'm on my way. "Hang on, Artoo," he sound out loud as pushed the X-Wing to full throttle. He closed in, but Han was already there, and two quick concussion missiles vaporized the tractor emitter. Luke adjusted his course slightly and fired a few shots on the surface for all the good it did. But the closer he got, the nagging sensation he had was growing worse and worse, and he realized that what he'd thought was worry was actually the sensation of the Borg. They felt completely wrong. Each was unique, and yet each thought and acted as one. It was like the optical illusion that could be a young woman or an old hag depending on how you looked at it, and it was making his head hurt.
The cube shook under a particularly devastating attack from the star cruiser, and for a moment the many thoughts pulled together. With so many thinking the same thing, it would have been impossible for Luke not to pick up on it. "This is Commander Skywalker," Luke said. "All available fighters, form up on me, Attack Pattern Delta." The ships pulled away and formed a line behind Luke like a string of pearls. Luke led the way around in a wide arc. "Arm your proton torpedoes," he ordered. Got that, Leia?
--------------------------------------------------------------
Yeah, I got it. "Han, there's a weak spot in their defenses," Leia said. "Follow Luke in and fire your missiles."
Han's hands were flying over the controls. "How can you possibly know that?" he asked. He saw Leia shift uncomfortably in her seat. "Forget I said anything," he said, altering course. "I hope you've got a good feeling about this." Luke's X-wing swooped in first, firing his torpedoes and pulling up so the one behind him could do the same. One pair wasn't enough to penetrate, but the endless barrage opened the path for the ones near the back –including the Falcon's missiles– to get through. They slammed into the opening in the cube, and instantly explosions ripped through various parts of the ship. Han looked stunned for a second as pulled up, then grinned. "See, I told you," he said to Chewie, "no problems." Chewie barked a reply. "So, who's the lucky one now, hey Lando?"
"Me," Lando replied, "lucky that you showed up. Thanks."
Han brought the Falcon around and headed towards the wormhole with the rest of the fleet. "Let's hope we don't have to try this again real soon, okay?" And with that, the orphan fleet left the galaxy behind.
Chuck
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Dalton
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Hrm, you never mentioned how Taar was rescued. Was that of any importance?
To Absent Friends
"y = mx + bro" - Surlethe
"You try THAT shit again, kid, and I will mod you. I will
mod you so hard, you'll wish I were Dalton." - Lagmonster
May the way of the Hero lead to the Triforce.
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Will we see these new chapters replace the originals on your Unity page?
"a single death is a tragedy, a million deaths are a statistic"-Joseph Stalin
"No plan survives contact with the enemy"-Helmuth Von Moltke
"Women prefer stories about one person dying slowly. Men prefer stories of many people dying quickly."-Niles from Frasier.
"No plan survives contact with the enemy"-Helmuth Von Moltke
"Women prefer stories about one person dying slowly. Men prefer stories of many people dying quickly."-Niles from Frasier.
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Sonnenburg
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Part XI
"Well, admiral," Picard said under his breath as his eyes slowly scanned the fleet. "I see you take the Borg seriously." He stood on the observation deck of the Enterprise, and as he lost count he realized why Thrawn had put the Enterprise at the rear of the fleet for the coming operations. It looked like he’d just have to take the reports word for it: Two hundred warships, and this was only one of five fleets Thrawn had assembled to engage the Borg. No, not engage, annihilate. This fleet was here to remove all trace of the Borg from this galaxy, and as Picard looked over the hordes of Imperators, Interdictors, Victorys, and Dreadnaughts, he was much more confident in their ability to pull that off. The worrying of the past few days –of the Borg descending on Earth and consuming it– faded. With the Empire standing with them, Picard had little doubt that the Federation could hold back the Borg indefinitely. The nightmare would remain just that, the ethereal constructs of the paranoid.
But we still have a part to play in this, Picard thought. We can't be children, expecting the Empire to protect us from everything. That would open the door to a whole new host of problems. Picard turned away from the view and entered the turbolift, emerging onto the bridge. He paused, but this time by design. He saw his crew, and knew that they were prepared to fight with all their convictions, and he was proud of them. They didn't have mile-long ships with massive guns, but they were prepared to stand their ground with whatever they did have, even though most had faced the Borg at least twice. Commander Riker left the captain's chair and took his own seat as Picard came down. Seven was still on the bridge in Troi's place. Hopefully she'd speak up if she saw a weakness in the Borg's defenses.
Picard paused as the thought fully percolated in his mind, and he felt some embarrassment at it. Of course she would, he thought. She's proven that she's on the Federation's side in this, and she's demonstrated how valuable an asset she is. Her initial reports on Imperial technology had been almost as insightful as Data's, but much easier to understand. Despite the implants, despite her mannerisms, she was human, and he was getting a little frustrated with himself that he was still distrustful of her.
"The admiral seems to have quite a party planned," Riker remarked.
"Just wait until the guest of honor arrives," Picard replied. He switched on the ship's intercom from his chair. "All hands, this is the captain. As you know, we are about to once again come face to face with the Borg. Three times the Enterprise has faced them, and every time we have resisted them. I am certain, that with this ship and your dedication, that this time will be no different. While we have not been assigned a primary position in this battle, we are still nevertheless going to be called upon to ensure that they are stopped, and that they are driven back. I know that your actions today will do just that, and give credit to the name 'Enterprise.'" He keyed it off. "That confident enough for you, Number One?" he asked under his breath.
"That certainly sounded like Jean-luc Picard to me, sir," Riker said with a smile.
"Captain," Lt. Travis said, "Admiral Thrawn has given the order to advance."
"Helm, you have the coordinates," Picard said. "Engage." And the armada vanished into hyperspace.
--------------------------------------------------------------
"Ships approaching Grid 812 of Unimatrix 01 prime. Diverting ships to intercept...."
"Ships approaching Grid 1006 of Unimatrix 02 prime. Diverting ships to..."
"Ships approaching Grid 127 of Unimatrix 01 prime. Diverting shi..."
"Ships approaching Grid 573 of Unimatrix 02 pri..."
"Ships approaching Grid 403 of Unimatrix 01 prime. Diverting ships to intercept. Engage and assimilate."
--------------------------------------------------------------
The Enterprise dropped out of hyperspace along with the rest of the fleet. "Red alert," Riker ordered, and the lights shifted accordingly.
"The Borg?" Picard asked Data.
"I am detecting thirty-two cubes in this area, captain," Data reported.
"On screen," Picard said. The picture shifted, and there they were, as many as he saw in his nightmares. But this time, they were the ones who were on the defensive, as the Imperial fleet moved in to intercept. The Borg, as always, ignored the danger, and rushed to engage. "Hold position here," Picard ordered.
"Load all torpedo bays," Riker said. "Stand by weapons."
"Shuttle crews, stand by for launch on the captain's order," Seven instructed. Riker had shown Picard the results of several simulations on the idea of using shuttles to beam explosives onto cubes. They had shown some success with it, so Picard had them make the preparations, although if the Borg were still around enough to need it against this armada it was doubtful it'd make a difference.
"Fleets 2 through 5 have reported, sir," Lt. Travis interjected, "They've engaged the Borg."
Picard nodded, and watched as the final engagement began.
--------------------------------------------------------------
Major Taar stood at his post at fighter tactical on board the Incaciad. "All fighters, stand by for launch," he ordered, carefully examining the positions of the fleet and the Borg cubes on his display. He tapped his lips a couple times, then hit the comm. "Squadron commanders, you are to engage cubes eighteen through twenty. Primary target remains tractor beams, secondary target, beam weapon emplacements. Sensors, torpedo emplacements, are targets of opportunity." It was impossible not to smile as he looked at how overwhelmed the Borg were. "Launch all fighters."
--------------------------------------------------------------
Anticipation was high on the bridge of the Incaciad as the Borg closed in to optimal range. Thrawn stood silent, still, watching and noting everything they did. In the background, a junior officer was counting down the seconds until optimal range would be met. At six seconds, he spoke. "Captain, instruct the Derilux and Phalanx to activate on my command," he ordered.
No one knew the details, but everyone knew that Thrawn had been up to something secretive on the two Interdictors. Hopefully it was something special, because the Borg entered optimal weapon range.
"Now captain," Thrawn said with the casualness of a man who could bombard paradise with neither a smile nor a tear, but the calm voice of necessity.
--------------------------------------------------------------
Despite the overwhelming advantage, there was a gnawing fear in Picard's guts as he saw the Borg fleet grow larger and larger on the viewscreen. When the cry came, he literally jumped.
It had come from Seven. She'd fallen out of her chair and was screaming in pain. "Turn it off!" she wailed.
Picard was about to speak when Travis spoke up. "Sir, all sensors are down! We've got nothing across the board!"
"Mr. Data?" Picard said as he turned to his second officer.
"Electromagnetic sensors appear to still be functioning," Data said. "I'm re-routing to tactical."
"Medical emergency," Riker started to say over the comm, but the sudden feedback was almost deafening.
"What the devil is going on?" Picard demanded, but then he looked at Seven, and it all clicked into place.
"Security, bring Seven of Nine to Sickbay," Riker ordered.
"Belay that," Picard said, still watching her where she lay. "Take her to the brig."
"Captain!" Seven wailed. "Please!"
"Have Dr. Crusher meet her there, but keep an eye on her," Picard said.
"Sir-" Riker began.
"Commander, monitor the status of the battle," Picard said as two security officers picked Seven up and began carrying her towards the turbolifts. "I have a feeling the Borg have pulled a rather crafty turn on us."
"Captain, if-"
"You have the bridge, Number One," Picard said, heading for the other turbolift. "Mr. Data, see if you can find a way around this communicator problem. I'll be in the brig, looking for answers."
--------------------------------------------------------------
The fleet slowly closed in on the Borg cubes like a pack of patient sharks. The cubes moved sluggishly through space, weapons fire lancing out at the Imperial ships. The star destroyers closed in and began broadsides, battering the cubes with their turbolasers. Meanwhile, the fighters flew past the perimeter of the battle and began engaging the cubes near the center of the Borg fleet. The swarm of tiny starships began strafing the surface of the cube, while the ship fired wildly at the small craft. The shots were hopelessly off target, and one even struck a nearby cube, causing more damage than the fighters. Taar watched from his station, monitoring the battle. He did nothing to hide his amusement of this turn of events. "We are the Empire," he said in barely audible tones. "To resist us is futile."
--------------------------------------------------------------
Dr. Crusher stopped short as she entered the brig and heard the screams. "Captain, what's going on?" she demanded as she stormed over to where two security guards tried to restrain Seven, but with her Borg enhanced strength it was more like hanging on for dear life. "Why isn't she in Sickbay?"
"Something's going on with the Borg and I want to know what it is," Picard said over the din. He turned back to Seven. "Now what are they doing?" he demanded.
"Please, captain!" she pleaded, clawing at the side of her face. "Make it stop!"
"Tell me what's going on," he said firmly.
"I don't know!" she wailed. "Please, I don't know..." her voice descended into sobbing. She thrashed, shaking one of the guards loose, and Picard put his hand to his phaser. Dr. Crusher pulled out a hypospray and tried approaching, but he grabbed her arm.
"Captain, she's in pain!" she protested.
"Why?" he demanded. "What are the Borg doing out there?"
Crusher pulled her arm free. "Let me stop her from tearing her face off and maybe we can find out." She put the hypospray to Seven's neck, and the ex-Borg collapsed, unconscious. She turned and glared at Picard. "What's the matter with you?" she demanded, all thought of rank cast aside.
"Our ship's been sabotaged," Picard said. "And the moment it began she started acting like this. What I want to know is if the Borg are using her to try and stop us."
"All right," Crusher said. This was the middle of a fight with the Borg, who were always ones to pull rabbits out of hats. "I can try to find that out, but you have to give this some time, captain."
"Time? For all we know the Imperials are suffering the same effects! We don’t have the luxury of time!”
"Well, captain, would you like the real answer, or should I make one up, because I can't give you the real one unless you give me that time!" She pulled out her medical tricorder and began scanning. "The problem is centered in her frontal lobe, the left hemisphere of her brain... It's one of her Borg implants," she admitted. "Her subspace transponder."
"So they are using her," Picard said darkly.
"That's not-" Before she could continue there was a small beeping sound and one of the displays lit up, revealing Data.
"Captain, due to the interference, I am using the internal..."
"What do you want," Picard interrupted. There was no time for Data to state the obvious.
"I believe I have found the cause of the problems on board the ship, captain," Data replied.
"As do I," Picard muttered, looking at Seven's unconscious form.
"I have analyzed the sensor logs. There was a massive power surge from two of the Imperial starships just before the problems began. The Interdictors, sir."
"Your point, Mr. Data."
"Sir, Interdictors produce massive gravitational shadows, that is what they are designed for. But there are no gravitational anomalies at this time."
Picard stopped for a moment. "How do you know? The sensors are off-line."
"I have modified the deflector dish to scan for any evidence of gravitational anomalies," Data replied. "There are none, sir."
"Fascinating, now what is the point, Mr. Data?"
"Sir," Data continued, eternally patient, "I have noticed the Borg cubes are not fighting in an efficient manner. Their propulsion is slow, their weapons often off target, their shields ineffective." He paused. "I believe the Interdictors have been modified, sir. They are no longer creating gravitational interference, they are creating subspace interference; interference on a scale like nothing we have ever seen."
"So you're saying the Empire's the one doing this to us?" Picard said incredulously.
"Not intentionally, sir. This is a weapon against the Borg; we are simply collateral damage, as it were."
Picard was about to reply, but he thought it through. The gravity projectors generated as much power as a small fleet... and Thrawn had specifically asked for subspace technology. Yes, it would be an excellent weapon to use against the Borg, who communicate using subspace. Oh, it wouldn't be perfect, but it would be a severe hindrance. Naturally, the side effect would be to overload every subspace receiver in the area, including-
A sickening sensation crept into his stomach. Including the one in the skull of Seven of Nine.
Picard held his hand up over his eyes, rubbing his temples. "Thank you, Mr. Data. Well done." He finally looked back up at Seven's unconscious form. After everything she'd done, in the end, he wouldn't let himself trust her. He'd let his own hatred for the Borg blind him, made him turn on a loyal member of his crew.
"Security," he said, "take her to Sickbay. Doctor, please do whatever you have to to ease her suffering. I'll be on the bridge."
--------------------------------------------------------------
Thrawn watched as the fleet closed in around the final two cubes; after the massive damage already inflicted, and his subspace interdictors, their resistance was negligible. "What are our losses?" he asked as one of the cubes already began to explode.
"Minimal, sir," Captain Jarrol said, and there was no mistaking the satisfaction in his tone.
Thrawn nodded and turned to one of his aides. "Order all fighters back to their ships, and have the fleet prepare to move on to our next target." Turning back to Jarrol, he asked, "What is the status of the other fleets?"
"Fleets 2 and 5 have defeated the Borg and are continuing to the next system," Jarrol reported. "Fleet 4 is still fighting, and Fleet 3 had to stop to destroy a Borg held planet. They will be moving on in twenty-seven minutes."
Thrawn nodded and watched the last cube explode. "Alert all commands," he said, "go to hyperspace."
--------------------------------------------------------------
"Ships approaching Grid 1 of Unimatrix 01 prime. Diverting all ships to that location. Engage and assimilate."
--------------------------------------------------------------
To a machine, all things can be reduced to numbers. Forty-three cubes were waiting in the Napuli System when three of the Imperial fleets arrived, consisting of six hundred thirty-seven warships and over three thousand fighters. With numbers like that, the battle lasted less than twenty minutes.
But the survivors weren't machines; they were humans –well, humanoids– and the victory put a smile on many faces, including that of Major Taar. It seemed the only one who wasn't smiling was Admiral Thrawn, who observed the battle almost in the same manner as a machine, except that he was capable of anticipating the human element within. "Report," he said.
Jarrol spoke, stifling a yawn. It had been a long engagement. "All Borg ships destroyed, two Borg planets have been secured, and bombardment is proceeding; no signs of resistance."
"And the Milky Way?"
"Our scout ships are reporting no sign of the Borg on their side of the wormhole," Jarrol said.
"Good, we seem to have cleaned up Piett's mess rather nicely," Thrawn said, walking off the bridge. He entered the holotheater; the Emperor soon appeared. He filled him in on the results of the battle.
"Very good, admiral," the Emperor said. "The Borg threat has been eliminated then?"
"No, your highness," Thrawn said. "We have merely expunged them from our space. Based on this campaign, I don't believe the Borg will ever stop. They don't care if they die, they will keep coming after us and our worlds until one of us is destroyed.... unless..."
"Unless what, admiral?" the Emperor said wearily.
"Unless we destroy the wormhole, your highness," Thrawn said. "That would ensure the Borg will never return."
"No," the Emperor said sternly. "I will not be denied by some collection of cybernetic lemmings! Do whatever is necessary to ensure they do not return, admiral, even if it means exterminating them... but I will not close the wormhole. There's too much to be gained in the Milky Way."
"Well, admiral," Picard said under his breath as his eyes slowly scanned the fleet. "I see you take the Borg seriously." He stood on the observation deck of the Enterprise, and as he lost count he realized why Thrawn had put the Enterprise at the rear of the fleet for the coming operations. It looked like he’d just have to take the reports word for it: Two hundred warships, and this was only one of five fleets Thrawn had assembled to engage the Borg. No, not engage, annihilate. This fleet was here to remove all trace of the Borg from this galaxy, and as Picard looked over the hordes of Imperators, Interdictors, Victorys, and Dreadnaughts, he was much more confident in their ability to pull that off. The worrying of the past few days –of the Borg descending on Earth and consuming it– faded. With the Empire standing with them, Picard had little doubt that the Federation could hold back the Borg indefinitely. The nightmare would remain just that, the ethereal constructs of the paranoid.
But we still have a part to play in this, Picard thought. We can't be children, expecting the Empire to protect us from everything. That would open the door to a whole new host of problems. Picard turned away from the view and entered the turbolift, emerging onto the bridge. He paused, but this time by design. He saw his crew, and knew that they were prepared to fight with all their convictions, and he was proud of them. They didn't have mile-long ships with massive guns, but they were prepared to stand their ground with whatever they did have, even though most had faced the Borg at least twice. Commander Riker left the captain's chair and took his own seat as Picard came down. Seven was still on the bridge in Troi's place. Hopefully she'd speak up if she saw a weakness in the Borg's defenses.
Picard paused as the thought fully percolated in his mind, and he felt some embarrassment at it. Of course she would, he thought. She's proven that she's on the Federation's side in this, and she's demonstrated how valuable an asset she is. Her initial reports on Imperial technology had been almost as insightful as Data's, but much easier to understand. Despite the implants, despite her mannerisms, she was human, and he was getting a little frustrated with himself that he was still distrustful of her.
"The admiral seems to have quite a party planned," Riker remarked.
"Just wait until the guest of honor arrives," Picard replied. He switched on the ship's intercom from his chair. "All hands, this is the captain. As you know, we are about to once again come face to face with the Borg. Three times the Enterprise has faced them, and every time we have resisted them. I am certain, that with this ship and your dedication, that this time will be no different. While we have not been assigned a primary position in this battle, we are still nevertheless going to be called upon to ensure that they are stopped, and that they are driven back. I know that your actions today will do just that, and give credit to the name 'Enterprise.'" He keyed it off. "That confident enough for you, Number One?" he asked under his breath.
"That certainly sounded like Jean-luc Picard to me, sir," Riker said with a smile.
"Captain," Lt. Travis said, "Admiral Thrawn has given the order to advance."
"Helm, you have the coordinates," Picard said. "Engage." And the armada vanished into hyperspace.
--------------------------------------------------------------
"Ships approaching Grid 812 of Unimatrix 01 prime. Diverting ships to intercept...."
"Ships approaching Grid 1006 of Unimatrix 02 prime. Diverting ships to..."
"Ships approaching Grid 127 of Unimatrix 01 prime. Diverting shi..."
"Ships approaching Grid 573 of Unimatrix 02 pri..."
"Ships approaching Grid 403 of Unimatrix 01 prime. Diverting ships to intercept. Engage and assimilate."
--------------------------------------------------------------
The Enterprise dropped out of hyperspace along with the rest of the fleet. "Red alert," Riker ordered, and the lights shifted accordingly.
"The Borg?" Picard asked Data.
"I am detecting thirty-two cubes in this area, captain," Data reported.
"On screen," Picard said. The picture shifted, and there they were, as many as he saw in his nightmares. But this time, they were the ones who were on the defensive, as the Imperial fleet moved in to intercept. The Borg, as always, ignored the danger, and rushed to engage. "Hold position here," Picard ordered.
"Load all torpedo bays," Riker said. "Stand by weapons."
"Shuttle crews, stand by for launch on the captain's order," Seven instructed. Riker had shown Picard the results of several simulations on the idea of using shuttles to beam explosives onto cubes. They had shown some success with it, so Picard had them make the preparations, although if the Borg were still around enough to need it against this armada it was doubtful it'd make a difference.
"Fleets 2 through 5 have reported, sir," Lt. Travis interjected, "They've engaged the Borg."
Picard nodded, and watched as the final engagement began.
--------------------------------------------------------------
Major Taar stood at his post at fighter tactical on board the Incaciad. "All fighters, stand by for launch," he ordered, carefully examining the positions of the fleet and the Borg cubes on his display. He tapped his lips a couple times, then hit the comm. "Squadron commanders, you are to engage cubes eighteen through twenty. Primary target remains tractor beams, secondary target, beam weapon emplacements. Sensors, torpedo emplacements, are targets of opportunity." It was impossible not to smile as he looked at how overwhelmed the Borg were. "Launch all fighters."
--------------------------------------------------------------
Anticipation was high on the bridge of the Incaciad as the Borg closed in to optimal range. Thrawn stood silent, still, watching and noting everything they did. In the background, a junior officer was counting down the seconds until optimal range would be met. At six seconds, he spoke. "Captain, instruct the Derilux and Phalanx to activate on my command," he ordered.
No one knew the details, but everyone knew that Thrawn had been up to something secretive on the two Interdictors. Hopefully it was something special, because the Borg entered optimal weapon range.
"Now captain," Thrawn said with the casualness of a man who could bombard paradise with neither a smile nor a tear, but the calm voice of necessity.
--------------------------------------------------------------
Despite the overwhelming advantage, there was a gnawing fear in Picard's guts as he saw the Borg fleet grow larger and larger on the viewscreen. When the cry came, he literally jumped.
It had come from Seven. She'd fallen out of her chair and was screaming in pain. "Turn it off!" she wailed.
Picard was about to speak when Travis spoke up. "Sir, all sensors are down! We've got nothing across the board!"
"Mr. Data?" Picard said as he turned to his second officer.
"Electromagnetic sensors appear to still be functioning," Data said. "I'm re-routing to tactical."
"Medical emergency," Riker started to say over the comm, but the sudden feedback was almost deafening.
"What the devil is going on?" Picard demanded, but then he looked at Seven, and it all clicked into place.
"Security, bring Seven of Nine to Sickbay," Riker ordered.
"Belay that," Picard said, still watching her where she lay. "Take her to the brig."
"Captain!" Seven wailed. "Please!"
"Have Dr. Crusher meet her there, but keep an eye on her," Picard said.
"Sir-" Riker began.
"Commander, monitor the status of the battle," Picard said as two security officers picked Seven up and began carrying her towards the turbolifts. "I have a feeling the Borg have pulled a rather crafty turn on us."
"Captain, if-"
"You have the bridge, Number One," Picard said, heading for the other turbolift. "Mr. Data, see if you can find a way around this communicator problem. I'll be in the brig, looking for answers."
--------------------------------------------------------------
The fleet slowly closed in on the Borg cubes like a pack of patient sharks. The cubes moved sluggishly through space, weapons fire lancing out at the Imperial ships. The star destroyers closed in and began broadsides, battering the cubes with their turbolasers. Meanwhile, the fighters flew past the perimeter of the battle and began engaging the cubes near the center of the Borg fleet. The swarm of tiny starships began strafing the surface of the cube, while the ship fired wildly at the small craft. The shots were hopelessly off target, and one even struck a nearby cube, causing more damage than the fighters. Taar watched from his station, monitoring the battle. He did nothing to hide his amusement of this turn of events. "We are the Empire," he said in barely audible tones. "To resist us is futile."
--------------------------------------------------------------
Dr. Crusher stopped short as she entered the brig and heard the screams. "Captain, what's going on?" she demanded as she stormed over to where two security guards tried to restrain Seven, but with her Borg enhanced strength it was more like hanging on for dear life. "Why isn't she in Sickbay?"
"Something's going on with the Borg and I want to know what it is," Picard said over the din. He turned back to Seven. "Now what are they doing?" he demanded.
"Please, captain!" she pleaded, clawing at the side of her face. "Make it stop!"
"Tell me what's going on," he said firmly.
"I don't know!" she wailed. "Please, I don't know..." her voice descended into sobbing. She thrashed, shaking one of the guards loose, and Picard put his hand to his phaser. Dr. Crusher pulled out a hypospray and tried approaching, but he grabbed her arm.
"Captain, she's in pain!" she protested.
"Why?" he demanded. "What are the Borg doing out there?"
Crusher pulled her arm free. "Let me stop her from tearing her face off and maybe we can find out." She put the hypospray to Seven's neck, and the ex-Borg collapsed, unconscious. She turned and glared at Picard. "What's the matter with you?" she demanded, all thought of rank cast aside.
"Our ship's been sabotaged," Picard said. "And the moment it began she started acting like this. What I want to know is if the Borg are using her to try and stop us."
"All right," Crusher said. This was the middle of a fight with the Borg, who were always ones to pull rabbits out of hats. "I can try to find that out, but you have to give this some time, captain."
"Time? For all we know the Imperials are suffering the same effects! We don’t have the luxury of time!”
"Well, captain, would you like the real answer, or should I make one up, because I can't give you the real one unless you give me that time!" She pulled out her medical tricorder and began scanning. "The problem is centered in her frontal lobe, the left hemisphere of her brain... It's one of her Borg implants," she admitted. "Her subspace transponder."
"So they are using her," Picard said darkly.
"That's not-" Before she could continue there was a small beeping sound and one of the displays lit up, revealing Data.
"Captain, due to the interference, I am using the internal..."
"What do you want," Picard interrupted. There was no time for Data to state the obvious.
"I believe I have found the cause of the problems on board the ship, captain," Data replied.
"As do I," Picard muttered, looking at Seven's unconscious form.
"I have analyzed the sensor logs. There was a massive power surge from two of the Imperial starships just before the problems began. The Interdictors, sir."
"Your point, Mr. Data."
"Sir, Interdictors produce massive gravitational shadows, that is what they are designed for. But there are no gravitational anomalies at this time."
Picard stopped for a moment. "How do you know? The sensors are off-line."
"I have modified the deflector dish to scan for any evidence of gravitational anomalies," Data replied. "There are none, sir."
"Fascinating, now what is the point, Mr. Data?"
"Sir," Data continued, eternally patient, "I have noticed the Borg cubes are not fighting in an efficient manner. Their propulsion is slow, their weapons often off target, their shields ineffective." He paused. "I believe the Interdictors have been modified, sir. They are no longer creating gravitational interference, they are creating subspace interference; interference on a scale like nothing we have ever seen."
"So you're saying the Empire's the one doing this to us?" Picard said incredulously.
"Not intentionally, sir. This is a weapon against the Borg; we are simply collateral damage, as it were."
Picard was about to reply, but he thought it through. The gravity projectors generated as much power as a small fleet... and Thrawn had specifically asked for subspace technology. Yes, it would be an excellent weapon to use against the Borg, who communicate using subspace. Oh, it wouldn't be perfect, but it would be a severe hindrance. Naturally, the side effect would be to overload every subspace receiver in the area, including-
A sickening sensation crept into his stomach. Including the one in the skull of Seven of Nine.
Picard held his hand up over his eyes, rubbing his temples. "Thank you, Mr. Data. Well done." He finally looked back up at Seven's unconscious form. After everything she'd done, in the end, he wouldn't let himself trust her. He'd let his own hatred for the Borg blind him, made him turn on a loyal member of his crew.
"Security," he said, "take her to Sickbay. Doctor, please do whatever you have to to ease her suffering. I'll be on the bridge."
--------------------------------------------------------------
Thrawn watched as the fleet closed in around the final two cubes; after the massive damage already inflicted, and his subspace interdictors, their resistance was negligible. "What are our losses?" he asked as one of the cubes already began to explode.
"Minimal, sir," Captain Jarrol said, and there was no mistaking the satisfaction in his tone.
Thrawn nodded and turned to one of his aides. "Order all fighters back to their ships, and have the fleet prepare to move on to our next target." Turning back to Jarrol, he asked, "What is the status of the other fleets?"
"Fleets 2 and 5 have defeated the Borg and are continuing to the next system," Jarrol reported. "Fleet 4 is still fighting, and Fleet 3 had to stop to destroy a Borg held planet. They will be moving on in twenty-seven minutes."
Thrawn nodded and watched the last cube explode. "Alert all commands," he said, "go to hyperspace."
--------------------------------------------------------------
"Ships approaching Grid 1 of Unimatrix 01 prime. Diverting all ships to that location. Engage and assimilate."
--------------------------------------------------------------
To a machine, all things can be reduced to numbers. Forty-three cubes were waiting in the Napuli System when three of the Imperial fleets arrived, consisting of six hundred thirty-seven warships and over three thousand fighters. With numbers like that, the battle lasted less than twenty minutes.
But the survivors weren't machines; they were humans –well, humanoids– and the victory put a smile on many faces, including that of Major Taar. It seemed the only one who wasn't smiling was Admiral Thrawn, who observed the battle almost in the same manner as a machine, except that he was capable of anticipating the human element within. "Report," he said.
Jarrol spoke, stifling a yawn. It had been a long engagement. "All Borg ships destroyed, two Borg planets have been secured, and bombardment is proceeding; no signs of resistance."
"And the Milky Way?"
"Our scout ships are reporting no sign of the Borg on their side of the wormhole," Jarrol said.
"Good, we seem to have cleaned up Piett's mess rather nicely," Thrawn said, walking off the bridge. He entered the holotheater; the Emperor soon appeared. He filled him in on the results of the battle.
"Very good, admiral," the Emperor said. "The Borg threat has been eliminated then?"
"No, your highness," Thrawn said. "We have merely expunged them from our space. Based on this campaign, I don't believe the Borg will ever stop. They don't care if they die, they will keep coming after us and our worlds until one of us is destroyed.... unless..."
"Unless what, admiral?" the Emperor said wearily.
"Unless we destroy the wormhole, your highness," Thrawn said. "That would ensure the Borg will never return."
"No," the Emperor said sternly. "I will not be denied by some collection of cybernetic lemmings! Do whatever is necessary to ensure they do not return, admiral, even if it means exterminating them... but I will not close the wormhole. There's too much to be gained in the Milky Way."
Chuck
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Sonnenburg
- Official Dave Barry Clone
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- Contact:
Part XII
Captain Picard waited in his ready room, fooling himself into thinking he was reading the latest report on the diplomatic front. The truth was that his mind was too occupied with his own problems to focus. He'd always known he wasn't perfect, but it was the sort of "not perfect" that lended itself towards false modesty, rather than the "not perfect" of "sometimes I'm going to make an inexcusable mistake, because I'm only human."
"Only human..." He'd boasted of being human before Q, about how far they'd come. He'd quoted Shakespeare: "in action how like an angel! in apprehension, how like a god!," he'd said without a trace of irony. Looking back, his hubris was astonishing. And what had happened the next time Q arrived? An introduction to a species called the Borg, and look at what had come of that. Picard had learned the bitter truth that no matter how much Shakespeare he'd like to throw at things, they were neither gods nor angels, just mere mortals; that had been an unpleasant lesson. And then the Borg came again, and that lesson was far worse. "Evolved," was how he'd always liked to describe modern humanity; Earth was a paradise. Well, it turned out to be a fool's paradise, didn't it. Oh, they had patted themselves on the back for how civilized they were, and then the Dominion came, and martial law was declared on Earth. The Founders threatened, and the enlightened humans designed biological weapons to commit genocide. When push came to shove, when danger threatened, humans did what they had done in those barbaric, nonsensical days that Picard and the other Starfleet officers had always arrogantly chuckled about.
But Q brought the Borg... and however much he might seem like an annoying imp, Picard knew that Q wasn't stupid. It wasn't the brash action he made it out to be, it was a calculated move to strip away Picard's delusions that he himself was above that sort of thing. When the Borg launched their second attack, he'd seen that revenge is not something you can evolve beyond. When Seven lay on the floor of his bridge, screaming in agony and begging Picard to help her, he learned that prejudice and paranoia don't go away because it's given lip-service. "Commies under the bed," he'd joked in years past about the backwards twentieth century world, but Starfleet officers looked with suspicion on one another when the Founders arrived... and Picard had looked at the weeping girl and knew in his bones she was just a Borg agent. He wasn't laughing now... no, the only one laughing was Q, no doubt spouting those words of Shakespeare with all the irony they were intended to carry. And he had every right to laugh.
The door chimed, and Picard set the PADD down on his desk. Well, he thought, time to get this over with. "Come," he said.
The door opened and Seven walked in. She took her usual place in her usual pose. There wasn't the slightest flicker on her face, no sign in any of her body language that she resented him for what he'd done. "You wish to see me, captain?" Again, nothing in her voice... it twisted the knife far worse than anything else she could possibly say. He was the captain, she was a member of his crew, and that was a two-way street. She was expected to follow his orders without question, even into death itself, to trust his judgment always. In the same way, he needed to demonstrate that that simply wasn't because of a couple pips on his collar. But he'd failed her. Oh, he'd made mistakes in the past, and his people had died from it, but this was different. This time was nothing short than his own failings as a captain and as a human being, and that made it a bitter pill.
Picard folded his hands and leaned his forehead against them. "Seven of Nine," he said. "I'm glad to see you've recovered so quickly," he added, looking up. "To say I owe you an apology would be a gross understatement."
"You had no way of knowing that it was not a Borg deception," Seven said. "Your actions were understandable in light of the gravity of the situation."
"No, they were not," Picard said. "They were paranoid and irrational, and I want you to know that I am deeply sorry for what I said and did... and failed to do."
Seven seemed somewhat uncomfortable. "I... accept your apology, captain."
"I want you to understand, Seven, that this is no reflection on you. Your service to both the Enterprise and the Federation has been exemplary. Please, don't think that this was anyone's failing but my own. You are a model officer."
"I will take that as a complement, captain, though it would be difficult to consider myself a model officer since I'm not an actual member of Starfleet."
Picard paused in mid-reply. "Yes, of course," he said, then he smiled a little. "But you are very good at giving the impression that you are."
"I assure you, captain, that it was never my intent-"
"I mean that as a compliment," Picard said. "Despite your lack of formal training, you do handle the job very well. I've seen how effectively you give and receive orders, follow through on protocols."
"Captain Janeway employed rather harsh discipline when I did not," Seven said. "I assumed that was the norm for Starfleet."
"Well whatever the reason, you would make an excellent officer... one I would be proud to have as a member of my crew, if that would interest you."
For perhaps the first time he'd ever seen, Seven seemed at a loss. She seemed focused on a spot on the floor, but Picard let her take her time. "The opportunity to receive a commission is desirable," Seven said eventually. "But I am not accustomed to working with others."
"You work well with Commander Data," Picard said. "Is it because he's a machine?"
"No, it's because he's intelligent," Seven said.
Picard had been caught off guard, and a laugh managed to slip out. "I'm sorry," he said, covering his mouth. "Yes, I suppose there's that. What you're saying in your round about way is that starting at the bottom and working your way up isn't suited to you."
"I realize that that would be an affront to other officers who have worked in the system," Seven said. "But I am not... suited, to use your term, to serving in the capacity that I have observed from such positions. If that is the only way, then I'm afraid I must decline."
"Normally it is," Picard said. "However, given the circumstances, and your repeatedly exceptional performance, I think we can work something out. Perhaps chief science officer would be to your liking?"
"That is a very attractive offer, captain," Seven said, and her nervousness showed in her voice. "I'd imagine the Enterprise would remain on the forefront of exploration once our mission is complete."
"There'd be many things for someone with an insatiable curiosity to see," Picard said with a smile. "But it's not simply a matter of handing you a rank badge and shaking your hand. There may be tests and tasks-"
"I am willing to do whatever is necessary, captain," Seven said resolutely.
"Good," Picard said, getting up. "And remember: if it's not to your liking, you can resign whenever you like, or if something else comes along, take a transfer."
"Why would I do that?"
"Well, new opportunities," Picard said. "Perhaps a post at the Academy, or a position at the Daystrom Institute... or just settling down, getting married-"
"Is enduring your humor one of the tests, captain?" Seven asked.
"Not the romantic type, Seven?" Picard said with a smirk.
"No, captain. I have observed this human social convention and find it only impairs efficiency."
"Well," Picard said, "that's certainly your prerogative, Seven, but I'd like to give you two pieces of advice. One is that you'll find that most of the best things in life impair efficiency, and the other," and he couldn't help but grin, "is that when it comes to that particular 'human social convention,' it usually doesn't arise from conscious choices."
"My subconscious is also not the romantic type," Seven said.
"Noted," Picard said, leading the way out onto the bridge. "Any word from the Empire, Number One?"
"The Incaciad just contacted us, we can beam over to the Conquest as soon as we'd like."
"Good, Data, Will, Seven, you're with me; Lieutenant Travis, you have the bridge."
--------------------------------------------------------------
Hokey religions and ancient weapons may have been something for Luke and Leia, but for Han, the real world had enough of its own challenges. He'd admit that he was just as likely to rely on his instincts as those two, but at least he knew that his were based on years of experience. When you're breaking into a place, and the security's just a little too easy, you get a bad feeling. When you're meeting a customer and you don't see enough space for all the cargo, you get a bad feeling. But one of the really nasty ones is when all conversation stops and people turn and look at you. Even the greenest scoundrel knew not only was it a bad sign, but that you'd likely be black and smoking before much longer.
Han played the situation as cool as he could. "I'm just looking for a little information, that's all," he said. He didn't glance in Lando's direction, it'd tip them off that he wasn't alone. He was just going to have to trust him to jump in if he had to... and trust wasn't easy to have when things started turning ugly. But there were some things you had to do in situations like this, and while it may have been a long time since they had to work together, habits that kept you alive stuck with you.
"Why would anyone want to learn about the Federation?" the Kazon demanded.
"I have an associate looking at doing some business with them," Han replied, in just the right tone to hopefully maintain interest without increasing the tension.
The Kazon snorted and looked at his comrades, who seemed to reflect his bemused contempt. "Then your 'associate' must enjoy being swindled. The Federation is cowardly and devious."
"It sounds like you've had dealings with them," Han said knowingly. "Good... my associate would certainly like to know more about them before he starts negotiations."
"All knowledge comes at a price, human," the Kazon said darkly.
Han nodded with a knowing smirk. "How does two hundred liters sound?"
The bad feeling was not only back, but it was jumping up and down and waving flags. Kriff, he thought as he watched their stunned reaction, too high, way too high. Let's hope I didn't botch this.
"You are willing to give up that much water just to learn about the Federation?" the Kazon said skeptically. "Your 'associate' is obviously not going to stay in business very long if you squander his goods in this manner."
"Yeah, well, that's his problem," Han said.
The Kazon leaned menacingly across the table at him. "And it will be your problem if you try to flee without payment, human." Han did move a muscle. "I have only encountered one of their vessels," the Kazon continued. "But it was enough to show me how little they can be trusted. Their leader –Janeway–" he spat the name, "lives by deceit, and she spread chaos all throughout the Kazon Ogla. We haven't seen or heard from them in years and good riddance." Several others muttered their agreement. "I do hope they've met a terrible end."
"Where are the rest of them?" Han asked.
"You still want to have dealings with them, human?" the Kazon asked incredulously. "What could they have that would interest your 'associate' so greatly?"
"That would cost you three hundred liters," Han said with a smirk.
The Kazon made a slight growl. "They were brought here by the Caretaker from somewhere else, I don't know where."
"Where is this Caretaker?"
"Dead," the Kazon replied as he took a drink. "Killed by Janeway. Then she blew up the array he created to protect the Ocampa; I guess she didn't care for them either." He slammed his empty mug down. "Now, about that water, human..."
After the trade was finished Han and Lando took off for the newly built Rebel base. It wasn't great, but given what they had to work with, and the amount of time involved, Han had been impressed. Unfortunately, the mission didn't seem to be off to a great start. "What do you think of that?" he asked Lando.
"He likes wa-ter, hu-man," Lando said in a grunting imitation of the Kazon, and Han cracked up. "It sounded to me like he was telling the truth, or at least his version of it. These Kazon have got no love for the Federation."
"So, no new info, but at least we know one more person who doesn't like them," Han said. "And that name again, Janeway... how many times has it come up now?"
Lando leaned back in the co-pilot seat and whistled. "This makes the... fourth time, if you want to count the Hirogen."
Han winced at the mention of the name. "I though we'd agreed not to discuss them ever again."
"Still a little sore?" Lando chided him
"I don't want to talk about it," Han said, which only brought more laughs from Lando.
"Well, don't talk to me, talk to Chewie. Last I saw he's still got that souvenir of his."
"I've tried, he thinks it's funny, can you believe that?" He looked over and saw Lando's smirk. "Yeah, thanks," he added, pulling back on the hyperdrive controls, "you're a true friend."
--------------------------------------------------------------
Seven stood at attention for appearance sake as the Lambda-class shuttle settled into the star destroyer's hangar. In addition to the Enterprise's senior officers that were on hand, a number of Imperial troops and officers were standing at attention. Thrawn stood in the center, waiting patiently as the ramp lowered. Seven kept looking over at him; he was very good at minimizing his body language, but years of dealing with the eccentricities of Voyager's crew had taught her how to catch the details. He wasn't happy about what was going on, despite the thin smile he had for the arrivals.
There were several, but Seven's eyes immediately fell on the one she had no doubt everyone was focused on. The man was nearly two meters tall, clad completely in black, complete with a frightening mask and helmet. As he walked, she noted a steady rhythm that must have been an artificial breathing apparatus. Given the devices on his chest, it was clear that he was, well, just like her: a cyborg.
Thrawn stepped up and the two exchanged a few words. The details were too quiet even for Seven to hear, but the tone of his voice made her slightly nervous. Thrawn brought him over and began introducing him. "Lord Darth Vader," he said.
"Seven of Nine," she answered when it was her turn. She had no rank to give like the others, so she added, "Civilian advisor." He said nothing to her directly, and his blank mask seemed to be staring right through her, as if looking for her deepest fear. He turned away to speak to Thrawn. As he did, his cloak billowed slightly, revealing a cylindrical object hanging from his belt. She hadn't seen it before, but she noted for later to check the database they'd received to find out what it was. It may have been because he was here for this mission, or it could be because he was cybernetic. If the latter, it could be of use to her. So far Seven's only experience with such equipment -that was worth talking about, anyway- was from the Borg. She was anxious to learn what the Empire might have to offer.
Seven turned back as one of the Federation diplomats came up the line, leading an oddly dressed man. "Ambassador Talva," he said by way of introduction. "He'll be the official go between with the Federation."
"What will Lord Vader's capacity be, then?" Picard asked.
"He will handle the Imperials in the place of the Emperor, for now," the diplomat explained.
"Until we can devise a way to communicate through the wormhole," Talva added. "And a holo-network is installed for long-range communication."
"That sounds a rather involved project," Picard said.
"It will be worth it in the long run. I'm sure we'll have much to discuss that we'd rather not require weeks to get answers to."
Seven turned her attention back to Vader and Thrawn. She was almost certain their conversation was much more interesting.
--------------------------------------------------------------
"The Borg pose no immediate threat?" Vader asked.
"No, my lord," Thrawn said. "We've secured the other side of the wormhole and work has begun on rebuilding the station. Our campaign to exterminate them will begin soon."
"The Emperor will be most displeased if they destroy the Federation before they can be put to his use."
"I imagine he would be," Thrawn said. "We will provide enough pressure to keep them busy, but this isn't a simple matter. It will take years."
"That is not my concern," Vader said darkly. "Only ensuring the protection of this Federation. Don't fail me admiral... I have seen too much of it of late to remain patient."
"Of course, my lord," Thrawn said.
Captain Picard waited in his ready room, fooling himself into thinking he was reading the latest report on the diplomatic front. The truth was that his mind was too occupied with his own problems to focus. He'd always known he wasn't perfect, but it was the sort of "not perfect" that lended itself towards false modesty, rather than the "not perfect" of "sometimes I'm going to make an inexcusable mistake, because I'm only human."
"Only human..." He'd boasted of being human before Q, about how far they'd come. He'd quoted Shakespeare: "in action how like an angel! in apprehension, how like a god!," he'd said without a trace of irony. Looking back, his hubris was astonishing. And what had happened the next time Q arrived? An introduction to a species called the Borg, and look at what had come of that. Picard had learned the bitter truth that no matter how much Shakespeare he'd like to throw at things, they were neither gods nor angels, just mere mortals; that had been an unpleasant lesson. And then the Borg came again, and that lesson was far worse. "Evolved," was how he'd always liked to describe modern humanity; Earth was a paradise. Well, it turned out to be a fool's paradise, didn't it. Oh, they had patted themselves on the back for how civilized they were, and then the Dominion came, and martial law was declared on Earth. The Founders threatened, and the enlightened humans designed biological weapons to commit genocide. When push came to shove, when danger threatened, humans did what they had done in those barbaric, nonsensical days that Picard and the other Starfleet officers had always arrogantly chuckled about.
But Q brought the Borg... and however much he might seem like an annoying imp, Picard knew that Q wasn't stupid. It wasn't the brash action he made it out to be, it was a calculated move to strip away Picard's delusions that he himself was above that sort of thing. When the Borg launched their second attack, he'd seen that revenge is not something you can evolve beyond. When Seven lay on the floor of his bridge, screaming in agony and begging Picard to help her, he learned that prejudice and paranoia don't go away because it's given lip-service. "Commies under the bed," he'd joked in years past about the backwards twentieth century world, but Starfleet officers looked with suspicion on one another when the Founders arrived... and Picard had looked at the weeping girl and knew in his bones she was just a Borg agent. He wasn't laughing now... no, the only one laughing was Q, no doubt spouting those words of Shakespeare with all the irony they were intended to carry. And he had every right to laugh.
The door chimed, and Picard set the PADD down on his desk. Well, he thought, time to get this over with. "Come," he said.
The door opened and Seven walked in. She took her usual place in her usual pose. There wasn't the slightest flicker on her face, no sign in any of her body language that she resented him for what he'd done. "You wish to see me, captain?" Again, nothing in her voice... it twisted the knife far worse than anything else she could possibly say. He was the captain, she was a member of his crew, and that was a two-way street. She was expected to follow his orders without question, even into death itself, to trust his judgment always. In the same way, he needed to demonstrate that that simply wasn't because of a couple pips on his collar. But he'd failed her. Oh, he'd made mistakes in the past, and his people had died from it, but this was different. This time was nothing short than his own failings as a captain and as a human being, and that made it a bitter pill.
Picard folded his hands and leaned his forehead against them. "Seven of Nine," he said. "I'm glad to see you've recovered so quickly," he added, looking up. "To say I owe you an apology would be a gross understatement."
"You had no way of knowing that it was not a Borg deception," Seven said. "Your actions were understandable in light of the gravity of the situation."
"No, they were not," Picard said. "They were paranoid and irrational, and I want you to know that I am deeply sorry for what I said and did... and failed to do."
Seven seemed somewhat uncomfortable. "I... accept your apology, captain."
"I want you to understand, Seven, that this is no reflection on you. Your service to both the Enterprise and the Federation has been exemplary. Please, don't think that this was anyone's failing but my own. You are a model officer."
"I will take that as a complement, captain, though it would be difficult to consider myself a model officer since I'm not an actual member of Starfleet."
Picard paused in mid-reply. "Yes, of course," he said, then he smiled a little. "But you are very good at giving the impression that you are."
"I assure you, captain, that it was never my intent-"
"I mean that as a compliment," Picard said. "Despite your lack of formal training, you do handle the job very well. I've seen how effectively you give and receive orders, follow through on protocols."
"Captain Janeway employed rather harsh discipline when I did not," Seven said. "I assumed that was the norm for Starfleet."
"Well whatever the reason, you would make an excellent officer... one I would be proud to have as a member of my crew, if that would interest you."
For perhaps the first time he'd ever seen, Seven seemed at a loss. She seemed focused on a spot on the floor, but Picard let her take her time. "The opportunity to receive a commission is desirable," Seven said eventually. "But I am not accustomed to working with others."
"You work well with Commander Data," Picard said. "Is it because he's a machine?"
"No, it's because he's intelligent," Seven said.
Picard had been caught off guard, and a laugh managed to slip out. "I'm sorry," he said, covering his mouth. "Yes, I suppose there's that. What you're saying in your round about way is that starting at the bottom and working your way up isn't suited to you."
"I realize that that would be an affront to other officers who have worked in the system," Seven said. "But I am not... suited, to use your term, to serving in the capacity that I have observed from such positions. If that is the only way, then I'm afraid I must decline."
"Normally it is," Picard said. "However, given the circumstances, and your repeatedly exceptional performance, I think we can work something out. Perhaps chief science officer would be to your liking?"
"That is a very attractive offer, captain," Seven said, and her nervousness showed in her voice. "I'd imagine the Enterprise would remain on the forefront of exploration once our mission is complete."
"There'd be many things for someone with an insatiable curiosity to see," Picard said with a smile. "But it's not simply a matter of handing you a rank badge and shaking your hand. There may be tests and tasks-"
"I am willing to do whatever is necessary, captain," Seven said resolutely.
"Good," Picard said, getting up. "And remember: if it's not to your liking, you can resign whenever you like, or if something else comes along, take a transfer."
"Why would I do that?"
"Well, new opportunities," Picard said. "Perhaps a post at the Academy, or a position at the Daystrom Institute... or just settling down, getting married-"
"Is enduring your humor one of the tests, captain?" Seven asked.
"Not the romantic type, Seven?" Picard said with a smirk.
"No, captain. I have observed this human social convention and find it only impairs efficiency."
"Well," Picard said, "that's certainly your prerogative, Seven, but I'd like to give you two pieces of advice. One is that you'll find that most of the best things in life impair efficiency, and the other," and he couldn't help but grin, "is that when it comes to that particular 'human social convention,' it usually doesn't arise from conscious choices."
"My subconscious is also not the romantic type," Seven said.
"Noted," Picard said, leading the way out onto the bridge. "Any word from the Empire, Number One?"
"The Incaciad just contacted us, we can beam over to the Conquest as soon as we'd like."
"Good, Data, Will, Seven, you're with me; Lieutenant Travis, you have the bridge."
--------------------------------------------------------------
Hokey religions and ancient weapons may have been something for Luke and Leia, but for Han, the real world had enough of its own challenges. He'd admit that he was just as likely to rely on his instincts as those two, but at least he knew that his were based on years of experience. When you're breaking into a place, and the security's just a little too easy, you get a bad feeling. When you're meeting a customer and you don't see enough space for all the cargo, you get a bad feeling. But one of the really nasty ones is when all conversation stops and people turn and look at you. Even the greenest scoundrel knew not only was it a bad sign, but that you'd likely be black and smoking before much longer.
Han played the situation as cool as he could. "I'm just looking for a little information, that's all," he said. He didn't glance in Lando's direction, it'd tip them off that he wasn't alone. He was just going to have to trust him to jump in if he had to... and trust wasn't easy to have when things started turning ugly. But there were some things you had to do in situations like this, and while it may have been a long time since they had to work together, habits that kept you alive stuck with you.
"Why would anyone want to learn about the Federation?" the Kazon demanded.
"I have an associate looking at doing some business with them," Han replied, in just the right tone to hopefully maintain interest without increasing the tension.
The Kazon snorted and looked at his comrades, who seemed to reflect his bemused contempt. "Then your 'associate' must enjoy being swindled. The Federation is cowardly and devious."
"It sounds like you've had dealings with them," Han said knowingly. "Good... my associate would certainly like to know more about them before he starts negotiations."
"All knowledge comes at a price, human," the Kazon said darkly.
Han nodded with a knowing smirk. "How does two hundred liters sound?"
The bad feeling was not only back, but it was jumping up and down and waving flags. Kriff, he thought as he watched their stunned reaction, too high, way too high. Let's hope I didn't botch this.
"You are willing to give up that much water just to learn about the Federation?" the Kazon said skeptically. "Your 'associate' is obviously not going to stay in business very long if you squander his goods in this manner."
"Yeah, well, that's his problem," Han said.
The Kazon leaned menacingly across the table at him. "And it will be your problem if you try to flee without payment, human." Han did move a muscle. "I have only encountered one of their vessels," the Kazon continued. "But it was enough to show me how little they can be trusted. Their leader –Janeway–" he spat the name, "lives by deceit, and she spread chaos all throughout the Kazon Ogla. We haven't seen or heard from them in years and good riddance." Several others muttered their agreement. "I do hope they've met a terrible end."
"Where are the rest of them?" Han asked.
"You still want to have dealings with them, human?" the Kazon asked incredulously. "What could they have that would interest your 'associate' so greatly?"
"That would cost you three hundred liters," Han said with a smirk.
The Kazon made a slight growl. "They were brought here by the Caretaker from somewhere else, I don't know where."
"Where is this Caretaker?"
"Dead," the Kazon replied as he took a drink. "Killed by Janeway. Then she blew up the array he created to protect the Ocampa; I guess she didn't care for them either." He slammed his empty mug down. "Now, about that water, human..."
After the trade was finished Han and Lando took off for the newly built Rebel base. It wasn't great, but given what they had to work with, and the amount of time involved, Han had been impressed. Unfortunately, the mission didn't seem to be off to a great start. "What do you think of that?" he asked Lando.
"He likes wa-ter, hu-man," Lando said in a grunting imitation of the Kazon, and Han cracked up. "It sounded to me like he was telling the truth, or at least his version of it. These Kazon have got no love for the Federation."
"So, no new info, but at least we know one more person who doesn't like them," Han said. "And that name again, Janeway... how many times has it come up now?"
Lando leaned back in the co-pilot seat and whistled. "This makes the... fourth time, if you want to count the Hirogen."
Han winced at the mention of the name. "I though we'd agreed not to discuss them ever again."
"Still a little sore?" Lando chided him
"I don't want to talk about it," Han said, which only brought more laughs from Lando.
"Well, don't talk to me, talk to Chewie. Last I saw he's still got that souvenir of his."
"I've tried, he thinks it's funny, can you believe that?" He looked over and saw Lando's smirk. "Yeah, thanks," he added, pulling back on the hyperdrive controls, "you're a true friend."
--------------------------------------------------------------
Seven stood at attention for appearance sake as the Lambda-class shuttle settled into the star destroyer's hangar. In addition to the Enterprise's senior officers that were on hand, a number of Imperial troops and officers were standing at attention. Thrawn stood in the center, waiting patiently as the ramp lowered. Seven kept looking over at him; he was very good at minimizing his body language, but years of dealing with the eccentricities of Voyager's crew had taught her how to catch the details. He wasn't happy about what was going on, despite the thin smile he had for the arrivals.
There were several, but Seven's eyes immediately fell on the one she had no doubt everyone was focused on. The man was nearly two meters tall, clad completely in black, complete with a frightening mask and helmet. As he walked, she noted a steady rhythm that must have been an artificial breathing apparatus. Given the devices on his chest, it was clear that he was, well, just like her: a cyborg.
Thrawn stepped up and the two exchanged a few words. The details were too quiet even for Seven to hear, but the tone of his voice made her slightly nervous. Thrawn brought him over and began introducing him. "Lord Darth Vader," he said.
"Seven of Nine," she answered when it was her turn. She had no rank to give like the others, so she added, "Civilian advisor." He said nothing to her directly, and his blank mask seemed to be staring right through her, as if looking for her deepest fear. He turned away to speak to Thrawn. As he did, his cloak billowed slightly, revealing a cylindrical object hanging from his belt. She hadn't seen it before, but she noted for later to check the database they'd received to find out what it was. It may have been because he was here for this mission, or it could be because he was cybernetic. If the latter, it could be of use to her. So far Seven's only experience with such equipment -that was worth talking about, anyway- was from the Borg. She was anxious to learn what the Empire might have to offer.
Seven turned back as one of the Federation diplomats came up the line, leading an oddly dressed man. "Ambassador Talva," he said by way of introduction. "He'll be the official go between with the Federation."
"What will Lord Vader's capacity be, then?" Picard asked.
"He will handle the Imperials in the place of the Emperor, for now," the diplomat explained.
"Until we can devise a way to communicate through the wormhole," Talva added. "And a holo-network is installed for long-range communication."
"That sounds a rather involved project," Picard said.
"It will be worth it in the long run. I'm sure we'll have much to discuss that we'd rather not require weeks to get answers to."
Seven turned her attention back to Vader and Thrawn. She was almost certain their conversation was much more interesting.
--------------------------------------------------------------
"The Borg pose no immediate threat?" Vader asked.
"No, my lord," Thrawn said. "We've secured the other side of the wormhole and work has begun on rebuilding the station. Our campaign to exterminate them will begin soon."
"The Emperor will be most displeased if they destroy the Federation before they can be put to his use."
"I imagine he would be," Thrawn said. "We will provide enough pressure to keep them busy, but this isn't a simple matter. It will take years."
"That is not my concern," Vader said darkly. "Only ensuring the protection of this Federation. Don't fail me admiral... I have seen too much of it of late to remain patient."
"Of course, my lord," Thrawn said.
Chuck
Wow, it's been a long time since I read this. Nice to see it getting cleaned up. Just a little nitpick, though. Wasn't Data Picard's chief science officer? If so, I can't see him offering the job to Seven.
"I want to mow down a bunch of motherfuckers with absurdly large weapons and relative impunity - preferably in and around a skyscraper. Then I want to fight a grim battle against the unlikely duo of the Terminator and Robocop. The last level should involve (but not be limited to) multiple robo-Hitlers and a gorillasaurus rex."--Uraniun235 on his ideal FPS game
"The ability to destroy a planet is insignificant compared to the power of the Force."--Darth Vader
"The ability to destroy a planet is insignificant compared to the power of the Force."--Darth Vader
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Sonnenburg
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Chris OFarrell
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For the record, Voyager has 15 decks, not 17 
Unless of course Deck 17 is a deck partialy emersed in subspace ala a TARDIS and is where they keep their spare Redshirts, Shuttlecraft and Photon Torpedoes...
And just for the record, it really takes me out of SOD when you have people on Voyager calling TIE's shuttlecraft. I mean Fighters are hardly an unknown to the Federation, they use them themselves. I know it's not really anything, but it just made me blink. How someone could confuse a TIE with *any* kind of shuttle....
Unless of course Deck 17 is a deck partialy emersed in subspace ala a TARDIS and is where they keep their spare Redshirts, Shuttlecraft and Photon Torpedoes...
And just for the record, it really takes me out of SOD when you have people on Voyager calling TIE's shuttlecraft. I mean Fighters are hardly an unknown to the Federation, they use them themselves. I know it's not really anything, but it just made me blink. How someone could confuse a TIE with *any* kind of shuttle....
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ElPintoGrande
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Just as Jar Jar Binks was ultimately responsible for the death of the Republic, it would appear that Janeway will be ultimately responsible for the death of the Federation... And the rest of our galaxy. Granted I hadn't read the original draft of the story, but I wish to see her head posted next to Jar Jar's on the town wall.
Yay! Midget Toss!
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Chris OFarrell
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I'm guessing you don't read "Dawn of Forever" do youElPintoGrande wrote:Just as Jar Jar Binks was ultimately responsible for the death of the Republic, it would appear that Janeway will be ultimately responsible for the death of the Federation... And the rest of our galaxy. Granted I hadn't read the original draft of the story, but I wish to see her head posted next to Jar Jar's on the town wall.
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Sonnenburg
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Thanks, I worked hard on that and I'm glad it paid off. One of the most glaring flaws I noticed on the re-write was that Picard was written far too stupid the first time, like the way he took in Thrawn's propaganda without any critical thought. We know Picard's a smart man, that if given a little push he can come to accept unpleasant truths, but sometimes he may convince himself of a beautiful lie for a time.Chris OFarrell wrote:Oh and I really do like the rewrites you are putting in, accounting for the outcomes in DS9, VOY, and the Prequal trilogy. Picards introspection about how flawed humans still are as the Dominion war proves, despite what he might have thought, is brilliantly written.
Chuck
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If not, don't! That's the last of a six story arc, of which this is only the first... it'll not only leave you thoroughly confused, it'll wreck some plot points.Chris OFarrell wrote:I'm guessing you don't read "Dawn of Forever" do youElPintoGrande wrote:Just as Jar Jar Binks was ultimately responsible for the death of the Republic, it would appear that Janeway will be ultimately responsible for the death of the Federation... And the rest of our galaxy. Granted I hadn't read the original draft of the story, but I wish to see her head posted next to Jar Jar's on the town wall.
And Chris, you should remember what happened when Kaz stumbled into the story around chapter 115.
Chuck
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Sonnenburg
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Okay, I didn't know that. I'll have to adjust that.Chris OFarrell wrote:For the record, Voyager has 15 decks, not 17
Unless of course Deck 17 is a deck partialy emersed in subspace ala a TARDIS and is where they keep their spare Redshirts, Shuttlecraft and Photon Torpedoes...
I strongly debated whether or not to keep it this way. In the end what won out was that the TIEs were coming from the capital ships, which would imply to the Trek crew they'd be shuttles rather than fighters. From DS9 and Voyager it looked to me that the fighters always flew outside of the cap ships even when they weren't in battle.Chris OFarrell wrote: And just for the record, it really takes me out of SOD when you have people on Voyager calling TIE's shuttlecraft. I mean Fighters are hardly an unknown to the Federation, they use them themselves. I know it's not really anything, but it just made me blink. How someone could confuse a TIE with *any* kind of shuttle....
Chuck
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Part XIII
High above the orange-red surface of Mars hung Utopia Planetia, the Federation's most advanced starship construction facility, and with the introduction of the hyperdrive, now possibly the most advanced in the galaxy. After the Enterprise's successful launch, Admiral Jellico had been placed in command of the facility. A couple of months ago it would have been an insult to put an officer of his rank and experience in such a position, but today, he took it as an honor, because it was in the long-term likely to be one of the most important posts in the Federation.
"We sow for tomorrow, not for today," the old Vulcan proverb said, and Jellico applied that to his new job. Things move slowly, but that was simply because change often demanded it. They had twenty new ships being constructed to optimize the use of the hyperdrive, and so far five starships -besides the Enterprise and Voyager, of course- had been successfully refitted to accommodate it, but each craft was proving a learning experience of its own. Some of the older warp cores couldn't provide enough power without risking structural failures, so they'd need even further upgrades to be worthwhile, or just have to be retired from service altogether. He was projecting two to four years to successfully upgrade the entire fleet, but when that was done the balance of power would undeniably shift in the Federation's favor.
An alert sounded, and Jellico instinctively got to his feet. He rushed out of his office towards the central control area; he'd been worried about an attack. The hyperdrive was strictly need-to-know, but with each ship launched that number grew substantially, and sooner or later somebody else was going to find out, and take steps. "What's happening?" he asked.
"Long-range sensors are picking up something coming towards the Terran system, sir," the lieutenant said.
"'Something?'"
"It's moving too fast to get a positive identification, sir, or even any details. Could be a ship, could be a fleet."
Jellico looked at the readouts. It was too fast to be warp and too big to be the Enterprise, so that meant it was three possibilities. One was simply someone they hadn't met who just happened to pick now to stop by. Two was the Borg; if they'd caught the Enterprise or managed to snag an Imperial ship, they could have assimilated hyperdrive technology. Third was the Imperials themselves, with some star destroyers from the looks of things. Jellico had been the biggest proponent of an alliance, but he'd also secretly been worried that the Empire would use Voyager as a gauge of Federation strength and may try to annex it. All three were rather unpleasant options. "Warn Earth," he said, just in case. "Every ship we've got, get it out there. Hopefully I'm just overreacting."
"Sir, Spacedock reports they have eight ships launched and are ready as well. Starfleet Command has ordered not to fire unless ordered to."
Jellico nodded. Let's hope no one goes off half-cocked here, he thought.
The ships dropped out of hyperspace; they weren't Borg, at least. "Magnify," Jellico ordered, and looked closely at them. Yes, without a doubt, those were the Imperial ships Janeway had met. Jellico fidgeted with his left hand as he looked it over, wondering what was going to happen next. Then a slight bit of relief came over him, and he pointed. "The Enterprise," he said.
"Should we stand down?"
"No, not yet," Jellico said. Picard was a bit soft, but he wasn't a traitor. Still, it was remotely possibly he or a member of his crew could have led the Empire here under duress. "Hail the Enterprise," he ordered.
Seconds later, Captain Picard appeared on the viewer. "Is there a problem, admiral?"
"Just wanted to make sure everything was all clear, Jean-luc," Jellico said. "You and your friends caught us by surprise." He waited a moment. "They are your friends, right?"
"Yours and mine, admiral," Picard said.
"That's good to hear, at least," Jellico said. "Why exactly did they bring four warships with them?"
"It's a long way to the wormhole, admiral," Picard said. "They're just a small escort to ensure the safety of the diplomatic corps while they're on Earth; it was all part of the negotiations."
"Sir," the lieutenant interrupted, "Starfleet command is ordering all ships to stand down."
Jellico nodded slowly, eyes still on the viewscreen. "Stand down, lieutenant," he said. "Good work, Jean-luc, Utopia out." He cut the transmission. "Lieutenant, I'll be in my office," he said.
He'd wanted this, but... the sight of warships over Earth made him very uncomfortable. It was a reasonable position, all in all, but, old instincts told him to be cautious. He sat at his desk, activated the viewer, and watched the fleet slip into orbit, shaking his head ever so slightly.
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The Lambda-class shuttle and her fighter escort exited the Conquest's docking bay, but Picard and the diplomatic corps had already beamed down to the platform. Admiral Parks had been waiting, and he gave Picard a grin from ear to ear. "You had us worried, and I don't just mean this dramatic entrance," he said, pumping Picard's hand. "We'd worried something happened to you out there."
"You should know by now never to give up on the Enterprise," Picard said, smiling in return. It faded as he saw the man over his shoulder.
"Welcome back, captain," the Federation president said.
"Thank you, sir," Picard said, but it didn't have much enthusiasm in it. How he'd managed to stay in office after the martial law incident was simply stunning.
"It's you who should be thanked. This looks to be the start of a wonderful new friendship."
"Just doing my duty, sir," Picard said neutrally, and the president went off to talk with someone else. "Admiral, while I have your ear, there's something I'd like to discuss. You recall the advisor Janeway provided?"
"Was there a problem?"
"On the contrary, she exceeded all expectations," Picard said. "She's still a civilian, but I think she'd make an outstanding officer."
"Then have her join the Academy and we'll see what happens," Parks said.
"I'd rather keep her with my crew," Picard said. "She's doing some valuable work, more valuable than writing papers on ethics and the historical significance of the Battle of Waterloo."
"There's protocols in place, Jean-luc."
"I'm asking this as a personal favor," Picard said.
Parks sighed a little. Picard didn't need to remind him that he had some favors to call in. "Have her file sent to me, I'll look it over, see what we can arrange."
"Thank you," Picard said, and they both turned as the shuttle settled onto the ramp.
The ramp lowered, and the head of the diplomatic corps stepped forward to make introductions. First was Lord Vader, still as chilling as he was back on the Conquest. The president was first, of course, then some of the representatives of member worlds in the Federation. Vader wasn't exactly disrespectful, but with that expressionless mask and his silence -save the off-putting breathing- it seemed that everyone was barely worthy of his notice. Of course, he wasn't the ambassador, so diplomacy wasn't expected of him, but it did seem to add an air of tension to the event.
Then he reached K'Jorl, the ambassador from the Klingon Empire. "I would speak to you about relations between your empire and mine," the Klingon said in what passed for diplomacy on Q'onos.
"My staff will handle this," Vader said, and turned away as if K'Jorl were nothing.
K'Jorl grabbed Vader's arm. "I'm speaking to you," he said. There was only a small amount of menace in his voice. Picard had to catch himself before he let his exasperation show. First the Borg, then the Klingons, perhaps for an encore the Dominion could show up and fire on a star destroyer. But apparently there was an encore already planned... K'Jorl visibly swallowed, and his mild annoyance was giving way to confusion. He coughed, then gasped, the grasped his throat. Vader just stared at him, not speaking, not moving, just watching as the Klingon stumbled about, choking on nothing. finally Vader turned away, and K'Jorl let out a gasp and hunched over on the ground, panting for air.
"And you are?" Vader demanded of the next in line. The little man quickly babbled his name, and Vader continued through the introductions faster than any Picard had ever seen.
"Jean-luc," Parks said under his breath, "what the devil did you bring back with you."
Picard shook his head, having trouble believing what he'd just seen too. "Hopefully not the devil."
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Han settled the Falcon into the docking bay at the Rebel base, powered down, and headed down the ramp with Lando. To his surprise, in that short time frame, a small crowd had gathered there to wait for him, including General Riekken himself. "Any word on the Kazon?" he asked.
Han and Lando joined the group and together they proceeded towards the command center. "We made contact, and they are definitely interested in water."
"Extremely interested," Lando said for emphasis.
"They hate the Federation," Han continued. "Janeway in particular."
"Her again," Luke said without a sign of surprise.
"Yeah, she's got quite a reputation," Lando said. Nearly every species they'd found so far that knew of the Federation mentioned this Janeway by name. Only one had anything positive to say. While this reconnaissance was still in the very early stages, everything so far sounded consistent with a power that would ally themselves with the Empire.
"Tell me about the Kazon," Riekken asked.
"They're structured like a militarized merchant marine, with different factions vying for different territories to either engage in trade or just to raid or extort goods."
"What would be their position if we fought the Federation?" Riekken asked.
"Standing on their feet, cheering," Han said. "But I doubt they'd join in the fight unless we paid them, and I don't think it's worth it. For their size, their ships are way underpowered."
"How underpowered?"
"We saw some ships bigger than a starcruiser with the firepower of maybe a dozen X-wings," Lando said.
"Alright, so that leaves the Kazon out," Riekken commented, as they entered the command center. Riekken stepped aside briefly to get an update from the comm chief, then returned. "No other ships in the area, looks like you weren't followed this time."
"And no sign of Han's friends?" Lando asked with a grin only a backstabber could wear. Han gave him a dirty look and Lando covered his mouth to contain his snickering.
"There's been no sign of the Hirogen since their attack," Riekken said, ignoring their antics. "Derlin's tightened security, and Antilles is stepping up patrols, just to be safe."
"That's not going to drain our resources, is it?" Lando asked.
Riekken shook his head. "I made sure we had ample resources for this. Supplies won't be a problem for a long time." He paused to take a datapad proffered by a passing officer. "We lost track of the Imperial ships heading for Federation territory," he said. "They were on a heading roughly thirty degrees off the galactic meridian."
"That fits in with what little intel we have," Han said. "'Across the galaxy' was what they kept saying."
"Given how divided and separated this galaxy is, I'm surprised your information is even that good," Riekken said. "This is going to make finding them much harder."
"It's something," Han said. "We take your lead, and maybe a long range trip will give us some more info."
Riekken thought about it, then shook his head in mild disbelief. "You do know it'd be quite a risk. You could wind up right in the middle of Borg space without backup."
"I've faced the Empire without backup, the Borg are no problem."
"It's still very dangerous."
"Sometimes you've just got to go for the Idiot's Array and hope like hell you pull what you need," Han said.
Riekken nodded a little, then shook Han's hand. "Good luck, Solo."
"Thank you, general," Han said, then turned to Luke while Riekken got on with his report. "Where's Leia?"
Luke hesitated, then spoke. "She's training right now. She'll be done in three hours or so."
"Oh," Han said, "not a problem." His tone made it clear that it was.
"I know it's been a while-"
"Five days," Han said, turning and walking out of the command center, Luke and Lando close behind.
"This is really important," Luke said. "She really needs to concentrate."
"Yeah, don't we all," Han shot back. He almost ran into Chewbacca, who was heading towards the Falcon to give it the once over. "See what I mean... Hey!" Chewie stopped and turned back. "I thought I told you to get rid of that thing!" Chewie tapped the Hirogen helmet he was wearing as if he hadn't realized it was there. "Yes, furball, that!" Chewie growled something then started laughing; Lando chuckled. "Yeah, well I'm sure you'd have made a great throw rug," Han shot back. He turned and stormed off, but Chewie barked something after him, causing Lando to laugh so hard he had to grab Luke for support.
Luke left Lando and Chewie to their jokes and chased after him. "Han-"
"I don't want to hear it."
"She loves you," Luke said. He grabbed Han's shoulder and turned him around. "It's not just words," he added. "I can feel it coming from her whenever she thinks about you. She's not putting you second."
"Every moment she's studying," Han fumed. "The last time she and I had any time together was flying here."
"Then take her with you next time," Luke said. Han scoffed. "She's going to be a little involved over these next few days, but when she does you both can go on this mission together. You'll have plenty of time then."
"Yeah, it'll be real romantic," Han said, turning and heading off again. Luke watched him, shaking his head a little. You don't know how lucky you are, he thought.
--------------------------------------------------------------
The Emperor was in meditation when he felt the mental touch of his servant. He was across the universe in another time, but with the Force even those barriers were insignificant. "Yes, Lord Vader," he intoned.
"As you predicted, master," Vader said, "the Klingons sought out an alliance with us."
"Are the negotiations complete?"
"Yes, my master. The Klingons are anxious to acquire our technology. They are brazen and stupid."
"As expected. Talva is to remain on Earth, send one of the others to the Klingons."
"Yes master."
"Everything is proceeding as I have foreseen it. Soon, they will all be... mine."
High above the orange-red surface of Mars hung Utopia Planetia, the Federation's most advanced starship construction facility, and with the introduction of the hyperdrive, now possibly the most advanced in the galaxy. After the Enterprise's successful launch, Admiral Jellico had been placed in command of the facility. A couple of months ago it would have been an insult to put an officer of his rank and experience in such a position, but today, he took it as an honor, because it was in the long-term likely to be one of the most important posts in the Federation.
"We sow for tomorrow, not for today," the old Vulcan proverb said, and Jellico applied that to his new job. Things move slowly, but that was simply because change often demanded it. They had twenty new ships being constructed to optimize the use of the hyperdrive, and so far five starships -besides the Enterprise and Voyager, of course- had been successfully refitted to accommodate it, but each craft was proving a learning experience of its own. Some of the older warp cores couldn't provide enough power without risking structural failures, so they'd need even further upgrades to be worthwhile, or just have to be retired from service altogether. He was projecting two to four years to successfully upgrade the entire fleet, but when that was done the balance of power would undeniably shift in the Federation's favor.
An alert sounded, and Jellico instinctively got to his feet. He rushed out of his office towards the central control area; he'd been worried about an attack. The hyperdrive was strictly need-to-know, but with each ship launched that number grew substantially, and sooner or later somebody else was going to find out, and take steps. "What's happening?" he asked.
"Long-range sensors are picking up something coming towards the Terran system, sir," the lieutenant said.
"'Something?'"
"It's moving too fast to get a positive identification, sir, or even any details. Could be a ship, could be a fleet."
Jellico looked at the readouts. It was too fast to be warp and too big to be the Enterprise, so that meant it was three possibilities. One was simply someone they hadn't met who just happened to pick now to stop by. Two was the Borg; if they'd caught the Enterprise or managed to snag an Imperial ship, they could have assimilated hyperdrive technology. Third was the Imperials themselves, with some star destroyers from the looks of things. Jellico had been the biggest proponent of an alliance, but he'd also secretly been worried that the Empire would use Voyager as a gauge of Federation strength and may try to annex it. All three were rather unpleasant options. "Warn Earth," he said, just in case. "Every ship we've got, get it out there. Hopefully I'm just overreacting."
"Sir, Spacedock reports they have eight ships launched and are ready as well. Starfleet Command has ordered not to fire unless ordered to."
Jellico nodded. Let's hope no one goes off half-cocked here, he thought.
The ships dropped out of hyperspace; they weren't Borg, at least. "Magnify," Jellico ordered, and looked closely at them. Yes, without a doubt, those were the Imperial ships Janeway had met. Jellico fidgeted with his left hand as he looked it over, wondering what was going to happen next. Then a slight bit of relief came over him, and he pointed. "The Enterprise," he said.
"Should we stand down?"
"No, not yet," Jellico said. Picard was a bit soft, but he wasn't a traitor. Still, it was remotely possibly he or a member of his crew could have led the Empire here under duress. "Hail the Enterprise," he ordered.
Seconds later, Captain Picard appeared on the viewer. "Is there a problem, admiral?"
"Just wanted to make sure everything was all clear, Jean-luc," Jellico said. "You and your friends caught us by surprise." He waited a moment. "They are your friends, right?"
"Yours and mine, admiral," Picard said.
"That's good to hear, at least," Jellico said. "Why exactly did they bring four warships with them?"
"It's a long way to the wormhole, admiral," Picard said. "They're just a small escort to ensure the safety of the diplomatic corps while they're on Earth; it was all part of the negotiations."
"Sir," the lieutenant interrupted, "Starfleet command is ordering all ships to stand down."
Jellico nodded slowly, eyes still on the viewscreen. "Stand down, lieutenant," he said. "Good work, Jean-luc, Utopia out." He cut the transmission. "Lieutenant, I'll be in my office," he said.
He'd wanted this, but... the sight of warships over Earth made him very uncomfortable. It was a reasonable position, all in all, but, old instincts told him to be cautious. He sat at his desk, activated the viewer, and watched the fleet slip into orbit, shaking his head ever so slightly.
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The Lambda-class shuttle and her fighter escort exited the Conquest's docking bay, but Picard and the diplomatic corps had already beamed down to the platform. Admiral Parks had been waiting, and he gave Picard a grin from ear to ear. "You had us worried, and I don't just mean this dramatic entrance," he said, pumping Picard's hand. "We'd worried something happened to you out there."
"You should know by now never to give up on the Enterprise," Picard said, smiling in return. It faded as he saw the man over his shoulder.
"Welcome back, captain," the Federation president said.
"Thank you, sir," Picard said, but it didn't have much enthusiasm in it. How he'd managed to stay in office after the martial law incident was simply stunning.
"It's you who should be thanked. This looks to be the start of a wonderful new friendship."
"Just doing my duty, sir," Picard said neutrally, and the president went off to talk with someone else. "Admiral, while I have your ear, there's something I'd like to discuss. You recall the advisor Janeway provided?"
"Was there a problem?"
"On the contrary, she exceeded all expectations," Picard said. "She's still a civilian, but I think she'd make an outstanding officer."
"Then have her join the Academy and we'll see what happens," Parks said.
"I'd rather keep her with my crew," Picard said. "She's doing some valuable work, more valuable than writing papers on ethics and the historical significance of the Battle of Waterloo."
"There's protocols in place, Jean-luc."
"I'm asking this as a personal favor," Picard said.
Parks sighed a little. Picard didn't need to remind him that he had some favors to call in. "Have her file sent to me, I'll look it over, see what we can arrange."
"Thank you," Picard said, and they both turned as the shuttle settled onto the ramp.
The ramp lowered, and the head of the diplomatic corps stepped forward to make introductions. First was Lord Vader, still as chilling as he was back on the Conquest. The president was first, of course, then some of the representatives of member worlds in the Federation. Vader wasn't exactly disrespectful, but with that expressionless mask and his silence -save the off-putting breathing- it seemed that everyone was barely worthy of his notice. Of course, he wasn't the ambassador, so diplomacy wasn't expected of him, but it did seem to add an air of tension to the event.
Then he reached K'Jorl, the ambassador from the Klingon Empire. "I would speak to you about relations between your empire and mine," the Klingon said in what passed for diplomacy on Q'onos.
"My staff will handle this," Vader said, and turned away as if K'Jorl were nothing.
K'Jorl grabbed Vader's arm. "I'm speaking to you," he said. There was only a small amount of menace in his voice. Picard had to catch himself before he let his exasperation show. First the Borg, then the Klingons, perhaps for an encore the Dominion could show up and fire on a star destroyer. But apparently there was an encore already planned... K'Jorl visibly swallowed, and his mild annoyance was giving way to confusion. He coughed, then gasped, the grasped his throat. Vader just stared at him, not speaking, not moving, just watching as the Klingon stumbled about, choking on nothing. finally Vader turned away, and K'Jorl let out a gasp and hunched over on the ground, panting for air.
"And you are?" Vader demanded of the next in line. The little man quickly babbled his name, and Vader continued through the introductions faster than any Picard had ever seen.
"Jean-luc," Parks said under his breath, "what the devil did you bring back with you."
Picard shook his head, having trouble believing what he'd just seen too. "Hopefully not the devil."
--------------------------------------------------------------
Han settled the Falcon into the docking bay at the Rebel base, powered down, and headed down the ramp with Lando. To his surprise, in that short time frame, a small crowd had gathered there to wait for him, including General Riekken himself. "Any word on the Kazon?" he asked.
Han and Lando joined the group and together they proceeded towards the command center. "We made contact, and they are definitely interested in water."
"Extremely interested," Lando said for emphasis.
"They hate the Federation," Han continued. "Janeway in particular."
"Her again," Luke said without a sign of surprise.
"Yeah, she's got quite a reputation," Lando said. Nearly every species they'd found so far that knew of the Federation mentioned this Janeway by name. Only one had anything positive to say. While this reconnaissance was still in the very early stages, everything so far sounded consistent with a power that would ally themselves with the Empire.
"Tell me about the Kazon," Riekken asked.
"They're structured like a militarized merchant marine, with different factions vying for different territories to either engage in trade or just to raid or extort goods."
"What would be their position if we fought the Federation?" Riekken asked.
"Standing on their feet, cheering," Han said. "But I doubt they'd join in the fight unless we paid them, and I don't think it's worth it. For their size, their ships are way underpowered."
"How underpowered?"
"We saw some ships bigger than a starcruiser with the firepower of maybe a dozen X-wings," Lando said.
"Alright, so that leaves the Kazon out," Riekken commented, as they entered the command center. Riekken stepped aside briefly to get an update from the comm chief, then returned. "No other ships in the area, looks like you weren't followed this time."
"And no sign of Han's friends?" Lando asked with a grin only a backstabber could wear. Han gave him a dirty look and Lando covered his mouth to contain his snickering.
"There's been no sign of the Hirogen since their attack," Riekken said, ignoring their antics. "Derlin's tightened security, and Antilles is stepping up patrols, just to be safe."
"That's not going to drain our resources, is it?" Lando asked.
Riekken shook his head. "I made sure we had ample resources for this. Supplies won't be a problem for a long time." He paused to take a datapad proffered by a passing officer. "We lost track of the Imperial ships heading for Federation territory," he said. "They were on a heading roughly thirty degrees off the galactic meridian."
"That fits in with what little intel we have," Han said. "'Across the galaxy' was what they kept saying."
"Given how divided and separated this galaxy is, I'm surprised your information is even that good," Riekken said. "This is going to make finding them much harder."
"It's something," Han said. "We take your lead, and maybe a long range trip will give us some more info."
Riekken thought about it, then shook his head in mild disbelief. "You do know it'd be quite a risk. You could wind up right in the middle of Borg space without backup."
"I've faced the Empire without backup, the Borg are no problem."
"It's still very dangerous."
"Sometimes you've just got to go for the Idiot's Array and hope like hell you pull what you need," Han said.
Riekken nodded a little, then shook Han's hand. "Good luck, Solo."
"Thank you, general," Han said, then turned to Luke while Riekken got on with his report. "Where's Leia?"
Luke hesitated, then spoke. "She's training right now. She'll be done in three hours or so."
"Oh," Han said, "not a problem." His tone made it clear that it was.
"I know it's been a while-"
"Five days," Han said, turning and walking out of the command center, Luke and Lando close behind.
"This is really important," Luke said. "She really needs to concentrate."
"Yeah, don't we all," Han shot back. He almost ran into Chewbacca, who was heading towards the Falcon to give it the once over. "See what I mean... Hey!" Chewie stopped and turned back. "I thought I told you to get rid of that thing!" Chewie tapped the Hirogen helmet he was wearing as if he hadn't realized it was there. "Yes, furball, that!" Chewie growled something then started laughing; Lando chuckled. "Yeah, well I'm sure you'd have made a great throw rug," Han shot back. He turned and stormed off, but Chewie barked something after him, causing Lando to laugh so hard he had to grab Luke for support.
Luke left Lando and Chewie to their jokes and chased after him. "Han-"
"I don't want to hear it."
"She loves you," Luke said. He grabbed Han's shoulder and turned him around. "It's not just words," he added. "I can feel it coming from her whenever she thinks about you. She's not putting you second."
"Every moment she's studying," Han fumed. "The last time she and I had any time together was flying here."
"Then take her with you next time," Luke said. Han scoffed. "She's going to be a little involved over these next few days, but when she does you both can go on this mission together. You'll have plenty of time then."
"Yeah, it'll be real romantic," Han said, turning and heading off again. Luke watched him, shaking his head a little. You don't know how lucky you are, he thought.
--------------------------------------------------------------
The Emperor was in meditation when he felt the mental touch of his servant. He was across the universe in another time, but with the Force even those barriers were insignificant. "Yes, Lord Vader," he intoned.
"As you predicted, master," Vader said, "the Klingons sought out an alliance with us."
"Are the negotiations complete?"
"Yes, my master. The Klingons are anxious to acquire our technology. They are brazen and stupid."
"As expected. Talva is to remain on Earth, send one of the others to the Klingons."
"Yes master."
"Everything is proceeding as I have foreseen it. Soon, they will all be... mine."
Chuck
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Star Empire
- Padawan Learner
- Posts: 242
- Joined: 2004-11-30 10:48pm
- Location: Columbus, Ohio
You know when you first said you were going to try to finish this by the end of March, it didn't occur to me just how involved that would be, but I actually had to catch up on a couple of chapters yesterday, which shows how fast you are going through it.
I have to second that Picard is written great here.
I have to second that Picard is written great here.
I actually read 2 chapters of Paradise Lost before ever starting this story the first time. I remember being throughly confused.If not, don't! That's the last of a six story arc, of which this is only the first... it'll not only leave you thoroughly confused, it'll wreck some plot points.
And Chris, you should remember what happened when Kaz stumbled into the story around chapter 115.
So many jokes about stuff in Voyager that I don't get (only watched a small handful of Voyager eps). Just out of curiosity, which species had something nice to say about Janeway?
"I want to mow down a bunch of motherfuckers with absurdly large weapons and relative impunity - preferably in and around a skyscraper. Then I want to fight a grim battle against the unlikely duo of the Terminator and Robocop. The last level should involve (but not be limited to) multiple robo-Hitlers and a gorillasaurus rex."--Uraniun235 on his ideal FPS game
"The ability to destroy a planet is insignificant compared to the power of the Force."--Darth Vader
"The ability to destroy a planet is insignificant compared to the power of the Force."--Darth Vader
Well the dead ones arent going to say anything, so thats close enoughTrogdor wrote:So many jokes about stuff in Voyager that I don't get (only watched a small handful of Voyager eps). Just out of curiosity, which species had something nice to say about Janeway?
"Okay, I'll have the truth with a side order of clarity." ~ Dr. Daniel Jackson.
"Reality has a well-known liberal bias." ~ Stephen Colbert
"One Drive, One Partition, the One True Path" ~ ars technica forums - warrens - on hhd partitioning schemes.
"Reality has a well-known liberal bias." ~ Stephen Colbert
"One Drive, One Partition, the One True Path" ~ ars technica forums - warrens - on hhd partitioning schemes.
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Chris OFarrell
- Durandal's Bitch
- Posts: 5724
- Joined: 2002-08-02 07:57pm
- Contact:
Well off the top of my head, the Kazon were said to be spreading disinformation about the Voyager for some time in the hope of cutting off any possible allies.
Of course the fact that the Kazon kept getting ahead of Voyager despite being far slower at FTL ships makes me shrug.
Basicly, Voyagers hike through the Delta Quadrent can be broken up into several legs.
Part I, the Kazon/Vadeians backwater area with relativly low tech races. No real strong regional powers. For the first three years they cross the area Nelix knows, at about Year 2.5 reaching some gigantic nebula which marks as far as Nelix has ever been or knows anything at all about.
Part II, just beyond this nebula they reach Borg Space (the Borg apparently don't consider the ass end of the Delta Quadrent worthy of assimilation). They then get shot by Kess a good 10,000 light years towards the Alpha Quadrent out of what apparently is one part of the Galaxy infested by the Borg.
Janeway actualy manages to offend less people for quite a while, even making a few friends. This part of space has a partial Borg presence, but the Borg don't really appear to claim major areas. Again the region is broken into lots of smaller regional powers, probably because the Borg take down anyone who gets too big for the area, though their general technology is more advanced then the ass end of the DQ.
This area also marks the outer edge of the hunting grounds of the Hirogen and the furthest of their realy stations that link all the way to the edge of the Romulan / Federation neutral zone.
Janeway of coure manages to destroy them all.
This is also the traditional point where Voyager made contact with the Federation.
Part III has them using Slipstream drive technology and stolen Borg transwarp technology to skip ahead another 20,000 light years give or take closer to the AQ. Unimatrix One is located somewhere in this area. There are also races even more advanced, more then a few exceding the Federations technology in some areas of consequence, though everyone still fears the Borg who are even more prevailent. They preaty much cruise along in this area and do whatever the heck they want. The Hirogen are a constent threat at this point, this may be the core area of their hunting grounds.
Oh and the Equinox as well with their Space Dolphins of doom.
Part IV is from here to the end of the series. Reliable 2 way daily communications with starfleet, the Borg steadily becoming even more wussy. A Transwarp hub is in this part of the Galaxy, they are less then 30,000 light years away from Earth at this point.
Voyager really had bad relations mostly in the first 3 seasons, in the Kazon's playground....which is where the Rebellion of course are. They were not without people who they got along well with...but Janeway *really* tried to piss everyone off...
Of course the fact that the Kazon kept getting ahead of Voyager despite being far slower at FTL ships makes me shrug.
Basicly, Voyagers hike through the Delta Quadrent can be broken up into several legs.
Part I, the Kazon/Vadeians backwater area with relativly low tech races. No real strong regional powers. For the first three years they cross the area Nelix knows, at about Year 2.5 reaching some gigantic nebula which marks as far as Nelix has ever been or knows anything at all about.
Part II, just beyond this nebula they reach Borg Space (the Borg apparently don't consider the ass end of the Delta Quadrent worthy of assimilation). They then get shot by Kess a good 10,000 light years towards the Alpha Quadrent out of what apparently is one part of the Galaxy infested by the Borg.
Janeway actualy manages to offend less people for quite a while, even making a few friends. This part of space has a partial Borg presence, but the Borg don't really appear to claim major areas. Again the region is broken into lots of smaller regional powers, probably because the Borg take down anyone who gets too big for the area, though their general technology is more advanced then the ass end of the DQ.
This area also marks the outer edge of the hunting grounds of the Hirogen and the furthest of their realy stations that link all the way to the edge of the Romulan / Federation neutral zone.
Janeway of coure manages to destroy them all.
This is also the traditional point where Voyager made contact with the Federation.
Part III has them using Slipstream drive technology and stolen Borg transwarp technology to skip ahead another 20,000 light years give or take closer to the AQ. Unimatrix One is located somewhere in this area. There are also races even more advanced, more then a few exceding the Federations technology in some areas of consequence, though everyone still fears the Borg who are even more prevailent. They preaty much cruise along in this area and do whatever the heck they want. The Hirogen are a constent threat at this point, this may be the core area of their hunting grounds.
Oh and the Equinox as well with their Space Dolphins of doom.
Part IV is from here to the end of the series. Reliable 2 way daily communications with starfleet, the Borg steadily becoming even more wussy. A Transwarp hub is in this part of the Galaxy, they are less then 30,000 light years away from Earth at this point.
Voyager really had bad relations mostly in the first 3 seasons, in the Kazon's playground....which is where the Rebellion of course are. They were not without people who they got along well with...but Janeway *really* tried to piss everyone off...