Unity I: Worlds Without End, Redux (Complete)

[Sonnenburg]

Chris has hit it right on the head; I can add nothing, except applause.

[Sonnenburg]

Part XIV

Admiral Jellico couldn't help but smile as he watched the docking clamps release. The Charlemagne and the Talman drifted out of Utopia Planetia, two more ships returned to the fleet with their new hyperdrives. Ambassador Talva had suggested that some Imperial engineers assist in their refit efforts, and since then the time spent in dry-dock had dropped from six weeks to a mere two. Jellico appreciated that. It was the star destroyer floating nearby that he didn't appreciate.

Jellico knew the Cardassians very well, and had been involved in many aspects of planning the Dominion War campaign. Many times he'd looked at reports and concluded that defeat was inevitable, and were it not for a set of fortunate events and the under-the-table work of Section 31, those would be Jem'hadar warships over Earth. When Jellico had read Janeway's report, he knew that she had waken a sleeping giant. He hadn't slept a wink that night, flipping back and forth on the issue. Should they send someone out to blow up the wormhole? He'd reached that decision more than once. But hyperdrive was here, and the galaxy was a much smaller place, and he'd realized that there was the possibility they were going to stumble over another sleeping giant at some point, one they couldn't so easily escape. In the end, the alliance was the safer option, but the sight of Imperial warships instead of Dominion ones didn't set his mind at ease.

"Admiral," the lieutenant at comm said, "the Garret is hailing us."

Jellico tapped the communication panel. "This is Jellico."

"Utopia Planetia," the Imperial reported, "we're tracking a series of gravitation anomalies moving throughout the system. Are you aware of what could be causing it?"

Jellico turned to Commander Wellis, who oversaw Utopia Planetia. "Any idea what he's talking about?"

"We're not detecting anything, sir," Wellis said with a shake of his head.

"Garret, we're not seeing anything," Jellico said.

"Utopia, be advised we are still reading over thirty anomalies converging."

"Sensor ghosts," Wellis said.

"Sir," the comm officer asked, "Imperials use different sensors then us... could these be cloaked ships?"

"The gravitational effects of a starship are too small to be detected," Wellis replied. "Besides, there's no way the Romulans could get past the sensor net and no reason for the Klingons to come here cloaked."

Jellico took a deep breath through his nose. "I'm not taking any chances. Raise shields, weapons at the ready, and get the word out to the fleet."

"Sir, they can't be-"

"Don't tell me 'can't,' commander," Jellico said, "just..." He trailed off and watched as Romulan and Cardassian ships appeared out of nowhere. "Send a message to Starfleet command. It appears the Federation is being invaded."
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Moff Jerjerrod was in the command center of the Death Star when Colonel Dyer arrived. Dyer had been the commander of the ground forces for the Endor shield generator, and had proven capable during the construction of the Death Star. "Report, colonel," he said.

Dyer presented Jerjerrod with a datapad. "All personnel and equipment evacuated from the Endor moon, sir."

"Any problems I should be aware of?"

"No, sir," Dyer said. “The locals were only too happy to see us leave."

"Good." Jerjerrod gave the datapad the once over. "Now," he said as he continued scanning it, "you said you had something to discuss with me?"

"Yes, sir," Dyer said. "I'm not sure if you were informed sir, but we had a bit of a problem with the indigenous tribes. They attacked the outpost on two separate occasions. We repelled them, of course," he added, "but they did cause some damage, killed a few of our men."

"Your point, colonel?"

"Now that the Death Star is complete, it will prove necessary to test it, yes?"

"On an uninhabited world, colonel."

"I don't think anyone's going to notice, sir," Dyer said, with just the slightest smirk. "After all, if the Endor moon was well-known, we wouldn't have built the Death Star here. And it would do a great deal for moral."

Jerjerrod smiled a little. It was a tempting target, and he had heard the reports... the furry little natives were rather difficult to deal with. He turned to the gunners. "I want a firing solution on the Endor moon."

"Thank you, sir," Dyer said. Together they watched as space turned beyond the window, until the moon filled it.

The concave formation in the northern hemisphere of the station began to glow at key points, eventually lancing out small green beams, or at least, small in comparison to the one that came next, firing from the very center of the cavity. It picked up energy from them and lanced forward as a ray of destructive energy, striking through the planet and into the very heart of the ancient world like the bolt of judgment thrown by a wrathful deity. In the blink of an eye, the world exploded, debris filling a hundred thousand kilometers in all directions. The Death Star sat unmoved as lumps of the planet bounced harmlessly off its shields, uncaring about the lives that were lost, unmoved by the devastation of such a weapon.

"A satisfactory test," Moff Jerjerrod said, "although I'd like you to recheck the alignment of tube 2a, I think we had a significant power loss in that area." No one else seemed to care either. The Death Star turned and vanished into hyperspace, leaving an expanding debris field in its wake.
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Mon Mothma turned the recording off. "What are they planning now?" she asked General Madine.

"According to our sources," Madine said, "the Death Star will be heading to the Napuli System."

"The wormhole," Mon Mothma said.

Madine nodded. "It's believed they'll be assisting Grand Admiral Thrawn in the Borg campaign, but I'm convinced this is just a shakedown, ma'am. They're working the bugs out of the system before the Emperor puts it to use against either us, or the other civilizations beyond the wormhole."

"I see," she said. "What are our options?"

Madine thought and sighed a little. "I really don't see any, ma'am."

"You're having second thoughts."

"About the rebellion?"

"About not destroying it when we had the chance," Mon Mothma said.

"I wish we could have," he said. "But I don't deal in the way things could have been, ma'am, just in as they are. The Death Star is a threat we knew we'd have to face; now that threat is here. We'll have to approach it with what is, not what could have beens."

"Of course, general." Mon Mothma looked at the hologram of the debris field. "But I hope that 'is' can be done soon, or I fear what will be."
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The Mars defense perimeter went into action, but there was little they could hope to accomplish; they just weren't equipped to stop such a large invasion force as the one seen here. The Garret moved on a course to intercept, but even the star destroyer couldn't hold off over thirty cap ships. "What's the word from Starfleet Command?" Jellico asked as he watched the engagement.

"They've launched all ships," the lieutenant said, and the Imperials have helped form a defensive perimeter of Earth-"

"It's not Earth they're after," Jellico said. "It's Mars... they want the hyperdrive."

"The Romualans and Cardassians aren't going to risk war for an engine," Wellis said.

"Yes they would," Jellico said. Because I would, he added in his own mind. If two sides are militarily even but one has the speed advantage, Jellico knew who was going to win at least nine times out of ten. The hyperdrive was strategically invaluable, it put cloaks to shame. In the minds of those two powers, war was going to happen sooner or later, so they might as well risk it now, when they could possibly do something to help even the odds. That meant Jellico had to do everything he could to stop them. "Any docked ships are to be evacuated immediately," he said.

"Sir?"

"If it looks like they're going to get any of our ships, we blow them up," Jellico said. He saw the looks on their faces. "You have a problem with that?" He could see they did. They were Starfleet engineers by training... they had the kinds of minds that were perfect for understanding how to put together finely-tuned flying machines, and zero understanding of the humanoids who flew them. "Those are my orders."

Wellis was downcast but nodded. "Aye sir," he said.

Jellico watched the battle, helpless, knowing that the only ships he could possibly destroy were his own. His stomach sunk as a Romulan ship blasted the nacelle off one of the Galaxy-class ships, and it veered off course, crashing into the Garret. Always ones to seize an opportunities, the Romulans and Cardassians pounded the star destroyer as it tried to recover from the collision.

"Captain Tans," came a disturbing voice over the comm. Tans was the commanding officer of the Garret.

"Yes, my lord," Tans said.

"You are to stand your ground," Lord Vader ordered.

The Garret was suffering visible hull breaches under the assault. "As you command, my lord," Tans replied grimly. It was to buy time, Jellico knew. The fleet from Earth was on its way, but the invaders could get in and out before then, unless the Garret stood in the way. Vader understood the significance of the hyperdrive advantage, and was prepared to sacrifice tens of thousands of his own men to maintain it. Jellico didn't know whether to be relieved or frightened. When the Garret exploded, he fell towards the latter, but it only lasted a moment. Three star destroyers and two Federation ships, including the Enterprise, emerged from their micro-jump and engaged the dozen or so invaders left. The invaders tried to get through to the prize, with war effectively declared there could be no turning back without it. It was a fatal mistake; the Imperial-Federation fleet didn't destroy so much as slaughter them, and Jellico felt no sympathy. "Lieutenant," he said, "send my thanks to Lord Vader for their aid and sacrifice." He watched as a flaming Warbird fell towards the Mars surface, and wondered how the quadrant would change in the days to come.
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A small fire crackled and snapped in the darkness. Metal quietly clicked against metal. There was the sound of breathing, not heavy, but audible. Luke looked past the flames at his sister as she worked, face almost contorted with concentration as she continued assembling the pieces. He watched, he listened, he sensed, but he said nothing. This was her test, and it would have to be completed alone.

Then there was nothing but the fire. "It's finished," Leia said quietly.

Luke nodded. "Then show me."

Leia looked at it as if it might jump out of her hands. "I'm afraid it won't work."

"Do I even need to answer that?"

"No," Leia said with a sigh. "Do, or do not. There is no try." She raised her hand and flipped the switch, and a blue beam lit the darkness. She lowered her hand slowly, and the blade hummed as it passed through air. She switched if off and looked up at Luke; he was nodding with approval.

"Your training is complete," he said, his throat dry. "I confer on you the rank of Jedi Knight."

Instead of being a joyous thing, the statement seemed to hang over them like a foul cloud. "Luke, I'm not ready," Leia said.

"Yes you are."

"What, with a few months?" she said incredulously. "You're insane."

"You learn things very quickly," Luke said. "You have a natural tendency towards peace. I-" He floundered. "No jokes, please, but obviously I used to feel attracted towards you, but since we've learned the truth, I've come to realize that that attraction is for the peace that just radiates out of you. It makes you a natural Jedi... it's why your abilities manifested themselves even without training."

"Luke, there's so much more I need to learn," she pleaded.

"That's called 'life,' Leia. With experience you'll grow stronger in the Force."

"But I feel like it's not complete," Leia said.

"I know, I felt the same way. In the old days we'd have a Jedi Master to guide us further along the path, but there are no more masters, so we've got to just follow what we've learned. 'Already you have that which you need,'" he quoted. "I've given you the knowledge Leia, and it will serve you well. But wisdom is acquired... you have to find that yourself."

"It's just... I thought I'd feel different, somehow."

"Jedi are mortals, just like everyone else," Luke said. "It doesn't mean you have all the answers. But you do have the Force as your ally."

"And someone to watch your back," a voice said. They turned, and Han walked into the light of the fire. Leia rushed up and embraced him. The day after he'd returned he had the ship loaded and took off for his search into the unknown parts of the galaxy. Knowledge was sketchy, which meant that hyperspace travel was going to be dicey, and there was no telling what kind of people he was going to run into. His month-long trip stretched out into six weeks, and without any communications Riekken was preparing the second team on the assumption that Han and Lando were dead.

"Where have you been," Leia demanded.

"Easy, your worship," he said with a lop-sided grin, "You didn't really think anything could happen to me did you?"

"You're impossible!"

"Yes I am," Han said smoothly.

Luke cleared his throat, and the two looked at him. "Glad to see you're all right; what'd you find out?"

"We've got a lead," Han said, now serious. "A group that some say have actually fought the Federation before."

"So we may have found an ally."

"Let's hope so, because so far friends have been in short supply." He turned back to Leia. "So I got to thinking that if we were going to try to convince them, we'd need someone with a way with words. Someone charming, attractive, clever yet down to Earth." He paused. "But they didn't want me so I figured you might give it a shot."

Leia gave him a little shove. "When will we be going?"

"I made it back a few days earlier than I planned," he replied. "We can leave in six days and still make it with time to spare."

"Then we'd better discuss things in detail," Leia said, and she and Han walked off towards the base. Luke put out the fire. So... he was no longer the last of the Jedi. He looked up at the stars of this alien galaxy. Funny, he thought he would feel different now too, but it was still there, that emptiness from so many he'd had to say goodbye to.

Luke took a deep breath and kept looking at those stars. It was a whole new galaxy here, and he wondered what he was going to find up there.
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Seven of Nine stood alone on the observation deck, watching the stars. The turbolift opened, and quiet footfalls met her enhanced ears. "You've been performing admirably," Picard offered. "On the tests, to be specific."

Seven took a deep breath, still watching the stars. "Recitation of information and logical thinking are elementary problems." There was so much to the universe... and she'd seen so little of it. "It is the interaction with others that proves difficult. I fear it will be the obstacle to success."

"Starfleet isn't about human foibles, Seven," Picard said. "The Federation is a collection of differing cultures, with different ways of approaching social interactions. You're not being judged, Seven. We respect all cultures."

"You are intimately familiar with my culture, captain," Seven said. She turned to him. "Could Starfleet possibly respect that? Could anyone?"

"No one will hold you accountable for the Collective's sins-"

"You did," Seven said, and she was surprised that she had, and a little embarrassed. "I apologize, captain. That was unfair of me."

Picard forced a small smile to his face. "I deserve that," he admitted.

"I must confess that I had not considered ever joining Starfleet," she said, turning back to the window. "But now that I find the possibility placed before me, and I consider all the opportunities it presents... I am... I am afraid." She closed her eyes and looked down. "Very afraid... and that is not rational."

Picard put a fatherly hand on her shoulder. "To dream, Seven, is what separates you from the Borg," he said. "There is nothing wrong with fearing to lose what we want."

"But I also fear having it," Seven said. "The thought of being integrated into the crew... I cannot understand this paradox, captain. I fear success and failure."

"You're afraid of change," Picard said.

Seven nodded. "I am Borg, and I fear adapting. The irony is not lost on me, captain."

"Well," Picard said softly, "if you want my opinion, you are going to pass the tests with flying colors." He gestured across space. "And you'll have all this to explore. And I believe, Seven, that in time, you might find something out there that will stop you from feeling afraid."

[Trogdor]

Thanks for the info, Chris.

[Rhoades]

Great work on this story, I've been keeping up with each update.

However,

"... Someone charming, attractive, clever yet down to Earth." He paused. ...

My comment about this line from Han, well, given the context of the story it feels awkward for someone from the SW galaxy to use the phrase 'down to Earth'.

[Sonnenburg]

I really agonized over that line, so it's funny that the first comment is about it. I guess I kept it because a certain amount of human idioms are simply part of Star Wars, like "I'll see you in hell" obviously isn't a Jedeo-Christrian reference, "down to Earth" doesn't mean a literal Earth.

I don't know if I wound up including it, but I had been planning a line of dialogue for Kalib in SotN for when Riker says they're from Earth, which went something like: "You named your planet 'dirt?'"

[Sonnenburg]

Part XV


Seven stood even more stiff and still than usual as Picard attached the pips to her collar. "By order of Starfleet Command," he said, "in recognition for bravery, dedication, and performance in the finest tradition of Starfleet, I hereby bestow on you the rank of lieutenant, senior grade." He stepped back and shook her hand while the small crowd applauded.

Several minutes later, as he stood near the bar nursing some synthehol, the guest of honor walked up. "So, how does it feel to have it be official?"

"I feel no different than I did an hour ago," Seven said. "The ceremony was merely a public spectacle, the order confirming my commission was the only relevant event."

"A little public spectacle is good," Picard said.

"It is inefficient.”

“It’s all for fun,” Picard said.

“It was neither fun nor practical to have you put the pips on my uniform, when it would be more effective to put them on myself."

"Oh what's the harm, Seven?" Picard teased.

“It was uncomfortable.”

“Give me one logical,” he emphasized the word, “reason for that.”

Seven squirmed, slightly embarrassed. She looked left then right and saw that no one was listening. She closed in, unable to make eye contact with Picard. "I am... I am ticklish."

Picard opened his mouth, but the part of the brain that controlled what came out was still struggling to think of a response. "I... suppose that's valid," he conceded.

"Here," she indicated her collarbone, still unable to look at him. "Tactile sensations were something I did not have to experience as a member of the Collective, thus I find such sensory information to sometimes be nearly overwhelming... hence my oversensitivity to pain."

"I see," Picard said. "Well, you held up admirably, in the finest traditions of Starfleet."

"I was not aware Starfleet had such traditions," Seven said.

Picard rubbed his brow. "Let's back the conversation up, shall we?" he said in defeat. "How does it feel to know that you passed and would receive a commission?"

"I am," Seven considered, "relieved. I also find myself experiencing an odd sense of frustration at our continued presence over Earth."

"You want to get out there and get exploring," Picard said with a knowing grin.

"Yes," she admitted. "I spent most of my life traveling from world to world, acquiring information, yet now I wish to do so out of personal desire. Is that rational?"

"Absolutely. I myself often chafe when we're stuck somewhere rather than out there beyond the boundaries. But with the opportunity comes the burden: following orders." He finished the glass. "Speaking of which, how is your analysis of the battle at Utopia Planetia coming along?"

"Commander Data and I have observed two notable events," Seven said. "The Imperials employed an ion-based weapon against the Romulan-Cardassian fleet."

"Ion-based? Why?"

"It is a standard weapon for taking a ship intact," Seven said. "Imperial technology is susceptible to ion weaponry; obviously they were intending to capture the invading ships alive."

"Admirable," Picard said. "I'd been concerned they were a bit too quick to kill, especially in light of Lord Vader's..." he tried to find a word and failed.

"Lord Darth Vader did not actually kill the ambassador," Seven pointed out.

"You still don't know how he did that?"

"No, captain. Our sensors detected no signs of any kind of energy or technology being employed."

Picard shook his head. "Is it possibly we simply couldn't detect it?"

"I would say that is the only possible explanation," Seven said. "To say otherwise would be to assume he did it using some kind of supernatural power."

"A little black magic," Picard said quietly.

"There is no such thing as magic, only science that is not understood."

"Indeed. Getting back to the ion cannon..."

"The weapon had no initial effect," Seven said. "However, sustained bombardment did eventually cause a dangerous build-up in one of the Cardassian starships, causing a reactor failure."

"But for the most part it seems these weapons are ineffective against alpha quadrant technology?" Picard asked.

"Against unmodified technology, yes," Seven said. "However, now that Federation ships are being equipped with Imperial hyperdrives and equipment necessary for adaptation, this may no longer hold true."

"Noted. Anything else?"

"Yes. As you requested, we examined how the Garret was able to detect the cloaked vessels. We've found that the Empire employs very sensitive gravitational sensors. The information was in the data from Admiral Thrawn."

"So we could add it to our own ships," Picard said.

"Yes, but that would not be currently feasible. To do so would take three months."

"That's not that long, really."

"In drydock."

"Never mind."

"The Federation may wish to implement it at a later time," Seven said. "However, the hyperdrive is clearly far more important at this time."

"I agree." Picard finished the glass. “Just so you and I are clear, you’re current post is secondary science officer under Commander Data, though this is only temporary; you’ll be promoted to chief science officer soon enough. I’d prefer if you kept that between us.”

“Yes sir,” Seven said. She seemed slightly uncomfortable. “Captain, I have a great deal of respect for Commander Data... I hope that this is not going to create any unpleasantness.”

“Your compassion is admirable,” Picard said. “Don’t worry about Data, it’s all part of my diabolic plan.” Seven looked at him oddly and he suppressed a laugh, then set his empty glass down on the bar. "Well, if you'll excuse me, lieutenant," he said, emphasizing the word, "I've got to return to the bridge."

"I will accompany you," Seven said.

"Oh no no no," Picard said. "This is your party, you have to stay."

Seven looked at the gathered masses, laughing and talking and drinking. "I would prefer not to."

"Well, you're going to have to get used to these," and Picard grinned at her, "ticklish situations."

Picard chuckled quietly at her discomfort, patted her on the shoulder in his fatherly way, and left. As he left Riker came up to the bar and placed an order. "Buy you a drink, lieutenant?" he asked pleasantly.

"I do not drink, and they are free regardless."

Riker's eyes swiveled this way and that. "Right," he said under his breath. "You know, you could just try it."

"No."

"Aw, come on Seven."

"It's my party, and I'll try if I want to."

"Fair enough," Riker said in defeat. "So, Seven of Nine, an actual member of Starfleet. Are you going to switch to a standard uniform now?"

"Is it mandatory?"

"Well, the captain does allow the occasional liberty on that score," Riker said.

"Then I would prefer not to," Seven said.

"May I ask why?"

Seven reached out and pulled on Riker's sleeve. "There's a great deal of space here," she says. "As you know, the Borg do not wear what you would consider clothing, but are covered in synthetic armor. The armor is laid along the skin to minimize the possibilities of contaminants entering between the two. It is a more pleasant sensation than being draped."

Riker slowly chuckled. "So, all this time, you've been wearing something skin tight because that's simply what you're used to?"

"What other possible reason could there be?"

Riker looked all 1.7 meters of voluptuous Borg up and down. "Can't think of a one," he said.
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"It seems our little Borg's all grown up," Janeway said with a smile.

"Let's hope the Enterprise can keep her that way," Torres said, with her not so friendly smile.

"Catfight, catfight," Harry said under his breath.

"Now, let's save the remarks for after the meeting,” Janeway said. “I just thought everyone could use a little bit of good news, under the circumstances."

"At this point, just finding out you bought a new hat would be good news," Paris said.

"I'm saving that for later," Janeway said, then her face turned more downcast. "In case any of you hadn't heard, a combined Romulan-Cardassian fleet of cloaked ships invaded the Terran System to steal Federation ships from Utopia Planetia."

"And failed," Chakotay added.

"Yeah," Lt. Kim began, "I heard that one star destroyer destroyed the whole fleet."

"Mr. Kim," Tuvok said. "The only thing that amazes me more than your tendency to gossip is your willingness to believe the ludicrous remarks you're told."

"He's not too far off," Paris admitted. "One ship bought them time enough for the cavalry to arrive. That's saying something."

"Along with the Mars defense perimeter," Tuvok pointed out.

Paris snickered. "The Mars defense perimeter couldn't stop a tragordian boar in heat."

"Nevertheless," Janeway interrupted, trying to regain control of the conversation, "it seems clear that the Federation needs to be ready in case of further attacks. Whether the Cardassians and the Romulans merely worked together on the one mission or whether they have actually formed an alliance is unclear at this time. Regardless, we've got to keep a lookout. Our orders are to rendezvous at Deep Space Nine with three other vessels and begin a sweep along the Cardassian border. We'll be making long-range sensor sweeps to try to determine what's going on. Ensign," she turned to Kim, "how are you coming in astrometrics?"

Kim hesitated slightly. "Well, I'm no 'little Borg,' but I think I've got the hang of the new equipment modifications she made."

"Let me know if you need some support personnel," Janeway said.

"Captain," Chakotay said, "I'm wondering what the Empire's going to do. Any hints?"

"No one has officially declared war yet," Janeway said. "Since the Empire has no diplomatic relations with either government yet, things are rather tense there, but so far it looks like they're not going to seek a military answer just yet."

"Pretty impressive restraint, considering they lost a warship in that fight," Paris observed.

"They have asked to increase their military presence, however," Janeway said. "However, the Federation Council rejected it; they were afraid it might provoke a war."

"Excuse me, they attacked Mars," Torres said. "How does that not qualify as provoking a war?"

"I understand, but you have to remember everything we missed while we were trapped in the delta quadrant," Janeway said. "The alpha quadrant has spent years in a vicious war, with the Dominion and with each other. They've only recently found peace... I suppose they feel it's worth overlooking what happened to hold onto it."

"Overlooking an attack on the heart of the Federation?" Torres said with a shake of her head.

"They got off lucky this time," Janeway said, "and I'm sure they both know it. It's unlikely they'll take another risk."

"Nevertheless," Tuvok said, "it would have been prudent to allow some ships from the Empire to come in the event of an attack."

"Then this should please you Tuvok. The Klingons have given a small sparsely populated planet to the Empire to use as a center for coordinating their alpha quadrant military tactics. And it just so happens to bear near the Klingon-Romulan border. I'm told they'll be bringing in three hundred ships to defend the region."

Paris whistled. "They'd need to send the entire Romulan fleet just to have a chance."

"Regardless of the Empire and the Romulans," Janeway continued, "our mission is to watch the Cardassians, so be prepared. We have no idea what they might try next."
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The chime of the computer awoke Bobby Jerrel from his nap. With a yawn he reached forward to turn it off, irritably wondering what set it off this time. Another meteor shower? He tapped the controls of the planetary sensor system for Halva, trying to narrow down today's foul up. To make matters worse, the damn monitor screen wasn't coming up again. He'd told them that the colony needed to upgrade for some newer components, but no one listened. He sighed, gave it a good rap, and tried again. Finally, the screen came up as he began chewing a darkata leaf.

The leaf slowly fell to the floor as his jaw fell open in stunned silence. No, it wasn't possible. Bobby started panicking; they'd told him what to do when he got this job, but now he couldn't remember! In desperation he turned on the communicator to contact Pralg, the tiny settlement that was technically the capital for the colony. By the time he was able to contact someone he was so fit to burst he just blurted the message out. "The Cardassians! The Cardassian are coming!"
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Leia exited the ramp of the Millennium Falcon onto the forested planet of Kaajab. It was amazing how different things felt now than they had just a few months ago; she could feel things change around her as they left the emptiness of space and entered a planet lush with life in all its forms. She'd changed into the Jedi robes she'd fashioned, basing them on the old holos she'd seen. Luke tended to stick with his black combat suit, but he was a bit more of an actual knight than she was... he'd been right about the peace in her, and as her senses grew she was more aware of it. She'd chosen this because in the end she felt the role of the peacemaker was hers.

Following her down the ramp was Threepio and Han, the former visibly agitated while the latter had his eyes glued to the surrounding foliage. It was the perfect place for an ambush, and Leia knew it, but a certain amount of risk was going to be part of her job. Besides, with the Force at her side, she would be aware of any danger that might present itself. Still, she could sense Han's concern. "Where exactly were we to meet them?" she asked quietly.

Han continued watching the forest. "About twenty meters that way," he pointed. He'd been optimistic about this ever since they left, but now that they were here his nervousness would have been obvious even if she couldn't sense it. She was tempted to send Threepio back and bring Luke instead -the instructions had been explicit: no more than three people- but his translation skills might be necessary, and besides, if this was a trap, it'd be better to have Luke outside of it in case they needed rescuing. He and Chewie could come up with a lot better ideas than the panicky protocol droid.

The trio stepped out of the trees and into the clearing, where three individuals awaited them. The one in the middle looked somewhat similar to humans, but she had some strange shapes on the side of his head, almost like vents. She was flanked on either side by some rather intimidating aliens. They had no hair, just a series of horns, and their skin looked reptilian. They were armed with large projectile weapons, which were sheathed for the moment.

The middle one stepped forward. "I am the Vorta, Kilana," she announced. "I speak for the Dominion."

Leia nodded. "I am Leia Organa; I speak for the Alliance."

"Mr. Solo here," Kilana said, pointing to Han, "said you had several things to discuss with us."

Leia nodded, and the verbal posturing began. Eventually Leia turned it in the direction of the Federation. Kilana didn't seem to like the topic. "The Federation is no longer any concern of ours," she said plainly. "We have seen to that."

"Then you have fought with them before," Leia asked.

"Yes, we have battled. What of it?"

"And who was the victor?"

"The Dominion is always the victor!" Kilana declared. "Whatever may happen, the Dominion will always triumph!"

"Of course," Leia said, trying to work at this particle point. "The Dominion may experience a setback, but never defeat."

"Yes," Kilana said icily.

"We're looking for information about this Federation," Leia said finally, filling the silence. "If they are the evil we think they are, perhaps we and the Dominion could work together... we could rid the galaxy of their tyranny."

Kilana's eyes narrowed. "The Dominion needs no one."

"Of course," Leia replied. "We are merely offering our services to the Dominion to help stop the Federation."

"I tire of these games!" Kilana said stepping forward. "Your fancy wordplay does not work on me! The Dominion needs no one, especially not a bunch of small weak solids!"

Leia wondered what kind of an insult "solid" was, but figured it was time to play her trump card. "If we're ending the games," Leia said slowly, "the perhaps we should stop hiding things... like soldiers."

"Are you accusing us of something, Leia Organa?" Kilana said darkly.

"The game continues then," Leia said.

"We are alone," Kilana said. "Scan the area if it will end your paranoia."

"Oh," Leia said with a smile, "but I already am." She held her arm out, and a rock floated up from the forest floor into her hand. Kilana's eyes were glued to it; Leia began tossing it in the air. "You have eight soldiers here, Kilana," she said. "Are you really going to make me point them out?" She tossed the rock through the air, and it bounced off something that wasn't there.

Instantly eight shapes shimmered into being, weapons at the ready. Han went for his blaster, but Leia grabbed his hand to stop him. Kilana stared at her as if she'd just been conned in an alley but didn't know how it had been done. "Amusing trick, Leia Organa," Kilana said gravely. "It's fortunate that they didn't decide to open fire."

"Yes," Leia said. "There's a chance they could have accidentally hit that bush."

The tension now seemed near the breaking point, but then the bush began to change shape until a humanoid appeared. Leia nodded to her. "You are the leader of the Dominion," Leia remarked.

"And you are very perceptive," the shape-shifter said. "I am one of the Founders."

"I'm pleased to formally make your acquaintance," Leia said.

"I'm afraid you'll find no pleasure in what I say, human," the Founder said. "Our involvement in Federation affairs has ended. We will not become involved in any further conflicts amongst the solids."

"If that is your wish-"

"It is," the Founder said. "Leave this world, leave our space, and forget you ever heard of us. Your Alliance can wage this war on your own."

"We shall honor your wishes," Leia said. "If you would but point the way, we would head towards the Federation instead of accidentally blundering back into your space in the future."

"They lie through the anomaly," the Founder said. "We will transmit its co-ordinates to you when you leave orbit. Now go."

"But I think you should tell me now," Leia said with a slight wave of her hand.

"What you think is not my concern," the Founder said. "Go."

Leia nodded, slightly disappointed. "Let's go," she said, and the trio departed.

The Dominion members watched until the ship began to lift off. "Kilana 3," the Founder said. "Instruct the fleet to destroy that ship. This Leia Organa is too dangerous to be allowed to live."

[Sonnenburg]

Part XVI


Colonel Kira slowly crawled over another section of debris, trying to get some readings on her tricorder. Unfortunately, it gave her the same response as it had for the past several hours. No lifeforms, nothing. Halva was dead.

Suddenly the tricorder sprung to life, and Kira looked hopefully over the pile of rubble, then spotted the Starfleet uniform. He climbed up the hill as she put away her tricorder. "Anything?" Chakotay asked.

"No more luck here than orbit," Kira reported, looking at the devastation. "They were totally wiped out.

Chakotay shook his head in disbelief as he looked as well. "I can't believe even the Cardassian would resort to this."

"You weren't here for some of the Maquis highlights," Kira replied. "There were a few things you wouldn't think any civilized race would resort to."

"The Maquis or the Cardassians?" Chakotay asked.

Kira smiled, but it was a weary one. "Depends on the day." Her smile faded away as she continued her visual inspection. "Commander, you're a Starfleet officer, you've had combat and command experience." She stepped further up the debris and looked across the desolate landscape. "You tell me: why attack and destroy an insignificant farming colony? It doesn't make any sense."

"If wars were required to make sense, our pasts would all be a lot less ugly. But you're right. This will probably cause a declaration of war, or at least some severe actions towards the Cardassians. The local colonies may begin arming themselves again, just like before the Dominion came, and for what? To destroy a farming planet?"

"Could this be the Romulans," Kira asked. Things had heated up very quickly once the Klingons got ahold of hyperdrives. Like Admiral Jellico, they recognized the devastating speed advantage; unlike him, they were excited at the chance of using it against their old adversaries. The Empire had joined in against the Romulans as well; for the moment, the Federation was staying out of it. "Maybe they're hoping this will force the Cardassians to get involved on their side."

Chakotay shook his head. "They were Cardassian ships. We picked up their warp core signature when we arrived but weren't able to track them. And the energy patterns are consistent with Cardassian weapons. Logical or not, they did do this."

Kira sighed heavily as she continued looking at the remains. "Then it looks like we're going to have a chance to watch hell descend out here all over again."
--------------------------------------------------------------

"Get ready to jump to lightspeed the first chance we get," Leia said as she walked into the cockpit of the Falcon.

Han turned to her with surprise. "What about the co-ordinates?"

"She was lying," Leia said quickly. Her Jedi mind trick hadn't worked, but whether it was due to the Founder's resistance or her own weakness was something she'd probably never know. "Just be ready for an attack."

Seconds later, alarms began sounding around the cockpit. Chewie growled something at Han. "Oh... great."

"Ships coming in," Luke said.

"Yeah, six of 'em," Han said quickly, trying to speed things up.

Jem'hadar fighters swept towards the freighter and opened fire. Han put the ship through all kinds of twists and turns, trying to maneuver away to buy some time. With the limited data in this galaxy the nav computer always took longer than normal, so he wasn't sure how long he'd have to keep this up. Jem'hadar weapons slammed against the shields, and Han tried maneuvers that threatened to overload the stabilizers. Another explosion rocked the ship. "Rear deflector shield is gone," Luke said looking at the instruments.

More alarms sounded. "Now what?" Han muttered, trying to look at a dozen readouts at once and keep the ship from getting atomized.

"It's another ship," Luke said.

"Perfect," Han said through his teeth, jerking the ship around again and cursing the nav computer.

"It's not Dominion," Leia said. "Look."

A small cap ship slipped past the Falcon and fired at the Dominion. They turned and swarmed it, but it was a hopelessly one sided battle. The last ship vaporized in a very short time.

"Thanks for the help," Han said, but just as the nav computer gave him the coordinates a jolt tossed them around the cockpit. "Tractor beam!" Han scowled, then hit the control panel for good measure.

"Alien vessel," the comm said, "this is the Federation Starship Overlord. Prepare to be boarded."

Chewie let out a low growl and Han ran his fingers through his hair. "Well," he said, "the good news is we can stop looking for 'em."
--------------------------------------------------------------

Captain Picard had to give bad news often enough, but this was the kind he could never get used to giving. "As of 0800 hours today, a state of war exists between the Federation and the Cardassians."

The reaction was to be expected. "Well, why not," Riker said sarcastically. "It's been fun the last two times, hasn't it?"

"The Council had no choice," Deanna Troi said. "The people of the Federation are upset about what's happened."

"Innocent people dying," Riker said. "And of course, innocent people don't die in wars."

"The people don't feel safe. They need to know that Starfleet will protect them."

"Starfleet has protected them," Riker said sharply, "but even with a hyperdrive we can't be everywhere."

"After rejecting the Empire's offer, the Council needed to do something to make the people feel safe."

"Starfleet is perfectly capable of patrolling its own borders!"

"I am sure the citizens of Halva would disagree," Seven said. It had dropped a road block into the conversation. As they say, it's not what you say, but how you say it, and how said Seven it was straight and to the point. No malice, no judgment, simple matter-of-factness... it was worse than any possible scolding, and Riker shot her a look with daggers in it. Unfortunately, he had nothing to come back with. Halva was in Federation space, not the demilitarized zone; its destruction was Starfleet's failure.

"The Romulans and the Cardassians have formed an alliance for mutual defense," Picard said, filling the tense silence. "That leaves us in a rather dangerous position. We need ships to help prevent any further invasion, especially along the Neutral Zone. The Federation has asked for help from the Empire."

"How convenient," Riker commented.

"Is there a problem, commander?"

"Just observing, sir, how the Empire gets to deploy their ships in Federation space thanks to this incident."

"You're not seriously suggesting the Empire attacked Halva?" Dr. Crusher asked.

"Who benefited from that attack? The Cardassians? No, no one did. It was pointless slaughter. And yet, the Empire gets to do exactly what they wanted to do before, move their ships into our territory."

"I don't know, commander," LaForge replied. "I mean, the Empire may be a little different than what we're used to, but I can't see them resorting to mass murder."

"You haven't been listening to the broadcasts from Imperial space," Riker said. "This would fit in with things the rebels have said about them."

"Commander," Picard said, "we both looked through those transmissions, and we found a lot of accusations, but very little proof."

"Respectfully, sir, I think this fits in with everything they said. I see no reason to destroy a strategically insignificant farming colony that until two days ago none of us had ever heard of. There is no military reason for them to do that. None. The only reason would be to get the Federation to support bringing in more Imperial ships."

"Not necessarily, commander," Data said. "We have seen on several occasions the Cardassians making moves that seemed unreasonable at them time, but later proved to be part of a much larger plan."

"Are you saying the Cardassians are coordinating some massive military effort based on this instance," Riker asked with obvious disbelief. "I find that pretty hard to swallow."

"I am not saying it is a certainty, commander," Data replied. "I am merely pointing it out because you are continuing to hold to your theory. You have based your belief on a false assumption; that the attack on the Halva colony has an obvious immediate tactical reason. I am merely pointing out that Cardassian behavior in the past does not always fit that view." Riker was about to reply, but Data pressed on. "What is more, the energy signatures found on Halva are consistent with the energy signatures of Cardassian weapons. And Cardassian warp signatures were found in that region. This attack had to be made by a Cardassian ship."

"And who says Cardassians were piloting it?" Riker replied.

"If you are suggesting the Empire staged the attack, I am afraid that is not possible. The Empire would need to take the ship relatively undamaged to use it in this manner. Their only weapon to do so is the ion cannon, which is ineffective. Their other weapons would have rendered the ship inoperable due to the level of damage."

"Regardless," Picard said, "we are at war. Your feelings about the Empire are well known, commander, but we have to accept the situation as it is. Now, if you find credible evidence that supports this position, Will, I'll take it to Starfleet myself, I promise you. I don't like the idea of being deceived into aiding a monster, but our hands are tied until then."

"Yes, sir," Riker said, looking straight down and picking at the desk's surface."

"The Empire is our military ally," Picard continued. "They have the ships necessary to help defend the Federation. Like it or not, we'll be working with them from now on." He picked up a PADD. "Our orders are to proceed to the Neutral Zone to rendezvous with a fleet of ten Imperial star destroyers to help coordinate a defense against any Romulan incursions. We'll need to be at our sharpest. Dismissed."

As everyone got up to leave, Picard asked Data to remain. When they were alone, he spoke. "Data," he said carefully, "I don't want to provoke further distrust, so I'd like your opinion on something. I ask that you not discuss it with anyone else."

"Of course, sir."

"Is there a chance that the Empire could have done this?"

"There is always a chance for most things, sir. However, if your question is whether this is a reasonable chance, I would have to say no. I have discussed the matter at length with Lt. of Nine, and we believe that with the power of their weaponry against a Cardassian ship, and factoring in their ability to acquire such a ship, staff it, and deploy it, all without being traced back to the Empire, is very low. It is more likely this is simply a Cardassian plan, one whose motives are as yet unclear."

"Thank you, Data," Picard said. "Let's hope you're right. If Will is, well," he shifted uncomfortably, "let's hope you're right," he repeated, unwillingly to even take the thought to its logical conclusion, too fearful to see what it would be. "There's another matter I'd like us to discuss. I intend to promote Lt. of Nine to Chief Science Officer."

Data, naturally, reflected no emotion. "She is fully qualified for such a position, captain," he said. "I believe she will perform those duties quite well. May I inquire why I am being removed as Science Officer?"

"Because you're standing still, Mr. Data," Picard said, sitting on the edge of the table and crossing his arms. "The new hyperdrive, the alliance, all this has made me realize how static things have been here, and how much potential is being squandered. You've been an invaluable asset to me over the years, Data... I think deep down I didn't want to lose that. But I believe it's time for you to do the job I know you're capable of. I think it's time for you to take command."

"Thank you, captain," Data said. "But based on prior experience, I am uncertain of how well others would follow if I led."

"That's all part of leading, Mr. Data. I've already spoken to Will; starting tomorrow, you'll be working with him on handling command tasks outside the normal scope of your duties. He'll still be first officer, but I'm sure that in a short time you'll pick up all the nuances. We'll send our reports to Starfleet on your performance and I have every confidence that you'll be promoted to first officer. It may not be on one of the best ships, but I think it's a step forward."

"I appreciate your efforts captain, as well as your interest in my personal development. I will endeavor to live up to your expectations."

"This is what you want, isn't it?" Picard asked.

"Yes sir," Data said. "Though I will miss the friends I have found on the Enterprise, it is true that my development has reached a boundary I cannot pass without change."

"Well, Mr. Data, I believe change is something all of us are just going to have to get used to."
--------------------------------------------------------------

Captain Praji entered Vader's meditation chamber and waited grimly. He'd been the Dark Lord's aide back on the Devastator years ago; with the loss of Vader's personal fleet his ship had been chosen to serve as the command vessel for the time being. It spoke of Vader's faith in his abilities, which was a double-edged sword. He didn't brook disappointment well. "You are familiar with the new Inferno-class vessels?" Vader asked, getting straight to the point.

"Yes, my lord," Praji said. The Inferno -first of the new line- wasn't as large as the Executor, but would serve an intermediate capacity. It was important in the wake of the Borg mess to have the Empire show its strength, much as the Executor had done after the loss of the first Death Star.

"The Inferno will be coming here; you will take command of it, Admiral Praji."

"Thank you, my lord," Praji said.

"I want the ship prepared for engagement very soon, admiral," Vader said, unmoved by thanks. "The Cardassians will be pushed hard; I expect you to be ready when they push back."

"Yes, my lord."

"What is the news of the Tal Shiar and Obsidian Order?"

Praji wet his lips. "We have eliminated many key members of those organizations. However, a few have managed to elude us. I was just preparing to increase our efforts-"

"No," Vader said. "Our attention must remain on the larger issues. Call in our usual contacts."

"You mean- bounty hunters, my lord?"

"Yes, admiral. These alpha quadrant types are unprepared for their harsh methods. See to it immediately."

"Yes, my lord," Praji said, then quickly bowed and left.
--------------------------------------------------------------

The Federation starship grew larger and larger through the viewport of the Falcon. They watched helplessly as the freighter was pulled into a large hangar located at the back of the ship. It was a rather strange looking vessel; the front part was flat and round like a table, connected to the rest of the ship by some kind of thin, neck-like shaft. At the bottom, the shaft widened to about three quarters the diameter of the top part, then stretched back just slightly larger than the diameter. Branching off at about forty-five degree angles were two more shafts on both sides of the ship, which in turn were connected to long cylindrical objects. The whole thing looked like someone had strapped the Falcon onto the head of a duck.

There was a metallic screech and a tearing sound as the Falcon was pulled into the hangar. Han pounded the control panel. "The rectenna!" he said between curses. "I hate the Federation already!"

"Hopefully we'll be able to worry about that later," Luke replied, looking around at the interior of the new ship. He saw several men approaching... men with weapons.

Han activated the landing system as the ship stopped moving, then turned to Leia. "Well, your highness, I've found the Federation."

"Nice," she replied dryly. The soldiers moved in closer, while more personnel entered the hangar.

"Her," Luke said, pointing at the tallish woman in the middle of the group, "She's their leader."

"There's something wrong about this," Leia commented.

Han turned to look at her. "You think?" he said sarcastically.

"No," Leia replied, trying to focus, "there's no malevolence. Just, nervousness, worry..."

"She's right," Luke added, "They're worried about us."

"Good, maybe they'll let us go," Han remarked.

"Whatever's going on, this is not the Federation I was briefed on," Leia remarked, getting up and heading out of the cockpit.

"Where are you going," Han demanded, chasing after her.

Leia continued to walk through the passage. "To introduce ourselves." Han grabbed her arm and pulled her back.

"Are you out of your mind?!" Han asked. "There's at least forty soldiers down there!"

"Yes," Leia replied, "and I better convince them not to start shooting at us." She pulled her arm out of his grip and continued.

"Look, I'm not abou...."

"No time to discuss this in a committee," she said, opening the door to the ramp. "Try not to do anything that'll get me killed." Carefully she walked down the ramp, doing her best to keep her hands in plain view. She watched while dozens of weapons followed her every move, feeling their terrifying stare. Using the Force to give her strength, she continued down and walked off, staring at the central group where the leader was. She walked to within ten meters and then stopped.

"Greetings," Leia said, hoping they understood. They looked human, but that didn't mean anything, not in this galaxy anyway.

"Greetings," the woman replied. "Capt. Victoria Price of the Overlord."

"Senator Leia Organa of the Alliance," she replied in kind. They stared across the hangar at one another, Leia probing with the Force. She sensed only concern, and curiosity. "We come in the name of peace on behalf of the Alliance."

"We welcome peace," Price replied. She turned to one of her companions nearby and began talking. Leia noted that he looked perfectly human, except for his ears, which were elongated with pointed tips. They turned back, the alien stepping towards her.

"I sense that you are telepathic," the alien said stepping closer. "I ask that you join me in a mind-meld. It will hopefully answer as many questions for you as it will for us."

Leia probed the alien and detected no attempt at deception. His impression on the Force was very strange, like a hurricane locked in a bottle. He possessed powerful emotions, yet refused to let them surface. "I consent," she replied. The alien walked up and touched her on the side of her head. Images began flooding her mind - thoughts, ideas, experiences that were not her own. Her entire perspective twisted and shifted, and she found it difficult to concentrate on any one thing. Suddenly, the alien pulled away, and it all became clear. Everything they had wondered about in this galaxy made sense, including the Federation.

The alien, his name was Kilvek she realized, turned back to Capt. Price. "Captain," he said quickly, "we have a great deal to discuss regarding the Empire. It seems things are even worse than we thought."

[Chris OFarrell]

You know, it's the 'Oh SHIT' moments that make fanfics great. When everyone realises they have all been played like a fiddle and now everyone is screwed...

[Sonnenburg]

Part XVII


"The Federation Council recognizes the ambassador from the Galactic Empire."

A hush descended as Amb. Talva stepped up to the platform, his normally smiling face masked behind a look of anguish and disappointment. He had grown quite popular among many of the representatives during the past couple of months, his winning personality combined with an empathy and wisdom that made him a natural leader in political circles. Taking a sip of water, he looked up and began to speak.

"Esteemed members of the Federation Council, Mr. President, loyal citizens of the Federation. I am here to report on behalf of Lord Vader that the Emperor has seen fit to deploy an additional one hundred starships to the Alpha Quadrant to ensure adequate defense. Every attempted incursion into Federation space has been deterred with minimal damage to both the Federation and ourselves. The forces of evil have been held back, and the combined might of the Klingons, the Federation, and the Empire ensure that your homes - our homes - will be protected from these enemies of freedom."

A round of applause filled the room but Talva held up his hand for it to stop. "We have ensured the stability of the Federation, and I feel the same sense of relief you do. However, it is too little, too late, for the citizens of Halva. We made a decision, a decision that seemed right at the time, a decision that was rooted in the universal hope of peace. Unfortunately, the Cardassians were not as interested in peace as we are. And while I can and certainly due admonish them for the pointless slaughter of ten thousand three hundred sixty-one innocent men, women and children, I cannot justly place those deaths solely on their shoulders. We possessed the means and we had the opportunity to defend that world, and the Empire did nothing. And willful inaction that allows injustice is just as guilty as the man who commits it," he said, his voice growing louder. "However much I would like to excuse it, those people died because we have failed to carry out our responsibility in the wake of Cardassia's attack on the heart of the Federation... their blood is on our hands.

"At the end of the earlier Cardassian War a demilitarized zone was established in the hopes of ensuring peace. And for a time it did. But it should seem obvious to all of us that peace is a concept the Cardassians do not understand. And while they ignore the points of this treaty by engaging in invasions into Federation space, former Federation citizens are forced to languish under the iron-fisted rule of these moralless beings. As we look at what transpires, we cannot help but reflect on the fate of Halva... once again, we have the power, the question is whether we have the will?" There were a few murmured comments, but Talva pressed on. "We can examine the legal issues over this affair and argue points of policy, endlessly debate these actions. But while the Empire believes in the absolute importance of the law, it recognizes that there is an even higher law; that we must answer to our consciences. And my conscience tells me that if we are saving lives how can that be wrong?!" he asked, pounding the podium. "We stood by and watched Halva burn and did nothing to intervene. Should we stand here and choose to turn a blind eye again?!"

Talva took a sip of water and continued. "We have weighed the issues carefully, and as of this moment, the Empire declares that the area known as the demilitarized zone is now under Imperial protection. Any attempts by the Cardassians or the Romulans to harm those worlds and their people will be met with swift and irresistible justice." He paused. "We cannot bring back the people of Halva, but we can learn from that mistake. And we have. And the Empire will stand together with the Federation and the Klingons," he said, his voice swelling, "and we will tell the Cardassians 'Not one more world! Not one more life! Not one more innocent soul will be lost to the forces of evil!'"

Col. Kira paused the recording, and looked up at the members of her senior staff, a grim look on her face. "I want all hands ready for action," she said. "This war just moved to our backyard."
--------------------------------------------------------------

The Federation officers sat across the table from Leia, Han, and Luke in the Overlord's meeting room. Chewie had stayed behind with Artoo to repair the damage done by the Jem'hadar. At the head of the table sat Capt. Price, a look of unease on her face. "I must admit, I find this all a bit hard to take in," she said. "We don't trust the Empire, but to believe they would resort to what you say..."

"They are telling us the truth," Lt. Comm. Kilvek said, "At least, the truth as they believe it."

"I was briefed on your Rebellion," Commander Testh, Price's first officer, said. "We were told that the Rebels were a group of terrorists. How you had destroyed an Imperial space station with millions of people on board?"

Leia, Han, and Luke looked at each other, wondering how to explain this one. "It's true," Luke said, "because I was the one who destroyed it."

The remark was received with the expected surprise, but Kilvek quickly spoke. "The Empire, as always, has proven that a half-truth is more effective than a lie." He pointed to Leia, "Tell them why it was destroyed."

Leia wet her lips, calling back the memories of events she'd been trying to forget over the past few years. "The space station was called the 'Death Star.' It was designed for one purpose, to rule through fear. It possessed enough firepower to punch through any shield and completely destroy a planet. Completely." She closed her eyes.

"The Empire tested the weapon on her home planet," Han said softly, putting a comforting arm around her. "It was literally blown to pieces in a fraction of a second."

"Impossible," said Tesh, "no station, no matter how large, could generate that much power."

"I saw what was left of the planet," Han replied sharply. "Asteroids, nothing else."

"That's why we had to destroy it," Luke said. "They were getting ready to fire on the moon where our base was located, it was a clear-cut case of self-defense."

Victoria Price rocked back and forth in her chair, thinking. Finally she asked Kilvek, "You believe they're telling the truth?"

The Vulcan nodded. "Absolutely, captain."

Price nodded. "Then I suppose that's good enough for me. So, what happens now?"

"Now that we've established you're not siding with the Empire's evil," Leia said, "but have just been deceived, we'd like it if we could have the opportunity to speak with your leaders."

"That could be a problem," Price said, a slight hesitation in her voice. "We're not on the best of terms with Starfleet Command." Leia gave her a puzzled look. "We don't exactly... work for the Federation anymore."

"But, you said this is the Federation Starship Overlord," said Luke.

"We've... well, I suppose there's no easy way to say it," admitted Capt. Price. "We stole it."
--------------------------------------------------------------

"The Breen?" Picard asked.

"Undeclared at this time, sir," Riker replied.

"What about the Yelnip?"

"They've decided to side with us."

"Thallonians?"

Riker hesitated. "Not too pleased with the Klingons, they'll probably side with the Romulans."

"Anyway we can change that," Picard asked.

"Break away from the Klingons," Riker replied, rubbing his eyes. "Sorry, sir. I didn't-"

"Quite alright," Picard replied. His report to Starfleet command on the status of the independent worlds wasn't looking very good. Many were anti-Empire or anti-Klingon, and the Romulan-Cardassian side was starting to gain some support. Just a year ago he was complaining about too many diplomatic missions; apparently there hadn't been enough. "What’s the current strategic situation?"

Riker picked up a PADD. "No attempts to cross the Neutral Zone, the conflicts are mostly along the Klingon-Romulan border. The Cardassian forces have twice attempted to retake the demilitirized zone from the Empire - both failed."

"I don't understand, no further incursions along the Cardassian border," Picard mused aloud. "That was where it all started."

Riker was silent for a while. "You know my opinion on the matter, sir."

Picard rubbed his eyes and stifled a yawn. "We've been over this before, Will, the Empire couldn't have done it. Only the Cardassians could've launched that attack."

"Except, as you've admitted, there seems to be no reason for them to have attacked. In fact, we've increased patrols along the Cardassian borders substantially. It's actually made things worse for them."

"Yes....." Picard disappeared into thought. Nothing was making sense any more. The Federation was now at the center of what was shaping into the largest war in known history. The fate of the entire quadrant was being decided right now, and while it looked all but certain the Federation would be on the winning side, the details made him uneasy. There was a possibility he hadn't shared aloud, one he dare not. He knew facts he couldn't share with his crew about what had gone on during the Dominion War, had seen what desperation did to mankind. Perhaps it was neither the Cardassians nor the Empire... perhaps it was the Federation itself. Five years ago he would have chewed out anyone who even uttered such a thing, but after the evils he'd witnessed, he really couldn't deny it was at least possible. "How are our two new promotions coming along?" he asked, hoping to shift to a more pleasant subject.

Riker seemed to search for the best way to broach the subject. "I won't lie to you, captain," he said finally. "Many of the department heads resent promoting Lt. of Nine to Data's old position. I don't want to name names, but some... some feel you're doing this because of personal feelings for her."

"You mean romantic feelings," Picard said. "Will-"

"I'm only passing it along, sir," Riker said, then smiled a little. "I think we both realize that Seven isn't the dating type."

"What's your opinion of her promotion, Will?"

Riker thought a moment. "She's the best qualified for the job, sir" he said flatly. "But she does tend to rub people the wrong way."

"Is it worth it?"

"Yes," Riker said unequivocally. "But if something could be done-"

"I'm working on it, Will," Picard said. "She's very deep in her shell, and I think it will take some time to coax her out, but I'm doing what I can."

"Yes sir. And for what it's worth, I think what you're doing for her and Data is very decent of you. Data, incidentally, is doing fantastic. Frankly, I'm worried about my job," he said with a smile.

"Would you take him as a first officer?"

"Absolutely." Riker paused. "Do you have plans for me too, captain?"

"You and I have had this discussion," Picard said. "I'm not pushing you out the door, but I would encourage you to consider stepping through it. But it's your career, Will; I'll not tell you how to handle it."

"Thank you, sir."

Picard tossed the PADD on the desk. "Let's call it a night, Will. The war will be waiting for us in the morning."
--------------------------------------------------------------

"You have to understand our situation," said Capt. Price, with the slightest hint of guilt in her voice. "The Federation has stood for a very long time for peace, justice, and freedom. All of us," she indicated the officers present, "joined Starfleet because we believed in the ideals of the Federation."

"I get the feeling there's a 'but' coming," Han said.

"We learned the hard way that the Federation ideals were just that. In times of peace, one can enjoy high ideals, but when conflict and danger comes, that's when we show our true colors. In the case of the Federation, that danger was the Dominion."

"You've already seen a small sample of what the Federation has had to deal with for the past several years," Commander Tesh pointed out. "The Dominion is dangerous. Their leaders uncompromising, their soldiers zealots. We were unprepared for the severity of their attack."

"We became desperate," Price said. "Everything we had built, all our high-minded philosophies took a back seat in the face of basic self-preservation. Martial law was declared on Earth, and the rumors, while unproven, held enough evidence to paint a very dark picture. In short, we learned the Federation was no longer what it claimed to be. A hundred small atrocities throughout our space made us realize that we could no longer in good conscience continue our role in all of this."

"So you stole the Overlord."

Price nodded. "The Overlord is one of the most advanced ships in the fleet, and it was one of the first ships equipped with the new hyperdrive, it was a perfect choice for what we wanted to do."

"And what exactly is that," Luke asked.

"We're returning to the ideals of the Federation," Price said. "Starfleet was founded to seek out new life, not subjugate it. And yet, our leaders are more concerned with logistics and planning than with exploration and contact. That's why we left them behind, and that's why we sought you out."

"You knew we were looking to make contact."

Price nodded. "We heard that a new group was looking for information about the Federation. We'd rather you spoke to us than with Jellico or one of the other warmongers in the Federation."

This complicated matters. There was a lot to consider, Leia knew, but their mission still hadn't changed. "We should at least try talking to the Federation. Perhaps they will listen..."

"They won't," Tesh interrupted. "The Empire is their savior now. Too many politicians and admirals have put their reputation on the line. They don't want to hear what you're going to tell them."

"We've got to find a way to make them listen then," Leia replied. "The number of lives lost-."

"Lives already have been lost," Kelvik said. "The Romulans have been fighting the Imperials and Klingons, and when we last spoke the Federation and Cardassians looked to join in soon."

"Then we need to stop the growth of the Empire's control now," Leia said. "The Romulans, they're the ones fighting the Empire?"

"Yes," Tesh said, "but what does that matter?"

"Perhaps we could join forces with them to at least slow this conflict down, give us a chance to get to the Federation and the Klingons and tell them the truth."

Comm. Tesh laughed. "You can't be serious. The Romulans would never trust outsiders. Besides, they're the Federation's enemy, we can't help them."

"The enemy of my enemy is my friend," Leia said. "If we don't do something the Empire will take control of all these worlds, and the Federation, the Klingons, and the Romulans will be no more."

"I'm afraid she's right, captain," Kelvik interjected. "We need to put aside our personal allegiances and look at the common good. The Federation is merely a puppet of the Empire, if we remove the Empire we restore the Federation."

"The Romulans will never ally with us," Tesh said.

"They're losing," Capt. Price said. "They're losing and they know it. But they're also very stubborn. We need to find a way to bridge the gap. And I have an idea." She picked up a PADD and tapped on a few keys, then put it down. "An important member of the military, Admiral Riklin, was captured by the Klingons and taken to a prison camp on the planet Ho'rras. Assuming he's not dead yet, he could convince the military leadership of at least considering an alliance with your rebellion." She paused. "All we have to do is find a way to get him off that planet."

"Captain," Tesh replied, "we don't have the resources to mount that kind of a rescue mission! Besides, even if we succeed, think of the ramifications! This could cause the Klingons to declare war on the Federation, causing even more bloodshed."

"Perhaps," she replied, thinking. "But it seems that we have too few options at this point. It's either attempt the rescue or do nothing, and I'm not really interested in watching the Alpha Quadrant go up in flames from the safety of this ship." She turned to Leia, "What do you say?"

Leia spoke without hesitation. "You get us there, we'll get him out. I guarantee it."

"And how do you propose to do that?" Tesh demanded.

Leia smiled. "Trust me."

[Sonnenburg]

Hit the wrong button... ignore please.

[Sonnenburg]

Part XVIII

There was an open space between the concealment and the mesh fence that surrounded the Klingon prison. Moving as quickly as possible, a small group of Federation soldiers began cutting through it. Luke looked beyond at the prison itself: two stories, at least a thousand square meters. Automated gunnery towers were set up to fire at any unauthorized entrances or exits, and inside were barracks for the soldiers set to guard those identified as war criminals by the Klingon Empire. They didn't know how many were inside; the dampening field that prevented transport also made sensor sweeps almost impossible.

The team at the fence returned to their position, just as they had for the simulation, ready to charge headlong for the door that was directly ahead of them. The Federation troops held their weapons at the ready, their nervousness revealed to Luke through the Force. Luke took the front of the line, Leia just behind him; both held their lightsabers at the ready, though unlit. He nodded to Capt. Price, and she signaled the Federation trooper. The trooper held the remote and mouthed the count; on two Luke broke for the fence. The edges exploded and fell in as he reached it, and the alarms sounded. Blue and green lightsabers lit the darkness as the Jedi broke across the yard, closely followed by the Federation troops.

The weapons on the tower activated. Luke stood fast on the left flank, catching and reflecting the weapon's beam away from his unit, trying to protect them as they rushed through. He felt Leia's intense concentration as she did the same on the right. The fear of the troopers was now replaced by determination as they rushed towards the main building, the ones in front opening fire with phaser pulses on the door, hoping to blow it in before they arrived, or kill anyone who may try to come out. The Overlord's crew may not like war, Luke thought, but they certainly weren't pacifists. Luke's blade snapped out twice more to block more incoming weapons fire, then he fell in behind his unit. He watched helplessly as one trooper was struck by the tower and knocked off his feet, too far away for Luke to protect him. The door exploded beyond under the constant barrage and the troopers began charging in. Leia quickly followed the last one in while Luke covered her, then dove in himself.

The entrance room echoed with weapons fire, but the two Jedi didn't stop. Leia reached the control panel and stabbed it, causing the door to open. She and Luke rushed in, leaving the Federation troopers to hold off the Klingons while they searched for the computer core. The next room, however, wasn't it. Eight Klingons were strapping on armor; to their credit, three instantly had out their disruptors and opened fire. However, neither Luke nor Leia were caught off guard either; their blades deflected the first of the blasts aside, then Luke took some more aggressive swings, reflecting the shots right back at them and taking them down.

The weapons fire -at least, in this room- ended as the Klingons examined the Jedi. Luke could sense their curiosity. The one remaining Klingon with a disruptor put it back in its sheath and pulled out a bat'leth, spinning it slowly with one hand. The others were doing the same. "I have never met anyone brave enough to face a Klingon in hand to hand combat," the first one said with a toothy grin. He began stepping forward changing his grip on the weapon. "Songs will be sung of this day." He charged Luke, his blade making sweeping motions in a complex pattern of attack. But Luke had the Force, and a lightsaber... he rolled low and to the left, slipping past the flash of the blade, then swung up with his lightsaber as the Klingon tried to swing back at him. The lightsaber passed through the blade, then through its wielder; the Klingon dropped dead to the floor.

Leia took a step forward, her blade raised and held menacingly before her. Luke was quick to return to a fighting stance. Hopefully after that he could convince them a fight was pointless. He put as much authority in his voice as possible and said, "Don't make us have to kill you, too."

The Klingons, instead of being cowed, were amused. "Then perhaps today is a good day to die!" one cried, and together the remaining Klingons charged, weapons swinging. Leia sidestepped one, bringing her elbow up to knock him off-balance while she literally disarmed her attacker. Luke jumped over a low slice, swinging down with his blade to bisect the warrior's head. He hit the floor and leapt like it was a trampoline, somersaulting over the two remaining Klingons. He hit the floor and spun, catching one startled warrior off guard as he turned to bring his weapon to bear. Again, the bat'leths couldn't stop a lightsaber, and Luke sliced him in half. Luke stepped over the remains of the Klingon, trying to press his advantage. He made an overhead swing, but the Klingon slipped to the right; an almost fatal mistake for Luke as the guard attempted a quick counter-attack. Luke slipped out of the way and attempted a second swing on the Klingon. Despite twice witnessing the futility, the Klingon instinctively tried to block Luke's strike with his weapon; the lightsaber continued right through the blade and into the Klingon, finishing him off.

Luke whirled around to check on Leia, but she had already dispatched the last armed Klingon. At the moment she was trying to restrain the one-armed Klingon who seemed determined to fight on with his remaining hand. It was almost pitiful, and Luke grabbed the weapon out of his hand - a mistake, because he'd completely let his guard down. The Klingon gave him a backhand so quick it almost knocked Luke off his feet.

"I will not be your prisoner!" the Klingon roared as he tried to press his advantage. Unfortunately, he should have quit while he was ahead. Luke sidestepped each blow, finally, tripping him up and pinning him to the floor.

"You all right?" Leia asked.

"I'm more embarrassed than hurt," Luke said.

"I will not be-"

"We don't want you as a prisoner!" Luke shouted at him, feeling frustrated at the situation. He forced himself to calm down. "We just want to get our people and leave."

"The murderous, dishonorable Romulans will never leave this place alive!"

Luke concentrated and began speaking, very slowly, to the Klingon. "I just want you to show me the computer core. You will show me the computer core."

Hesitantly, the Klingon spoke. "I will take you to the computer core."

Luke got off the Klingon and helped him up. The guard led them through one of the other corridors up to a large, heavy door; it was also protected by a force field. With some convincing by Luke, the Klingon keyed in a code on the wall and the shield dropped. Luke sliced through the door and entered; Leia took a seat. "Captain, we've found the computer, but I can't read it." While she spoke Luke tried to persuade the Klingon to operate the computer, but to no avail - his hatred of Romulans was too great for Luke to overcome.

"I'm on my way," Price called. Soon she arrived and began tapping controls, checking over the instructions and touching pads at various prompts. Finally she spoke. "Cell 32, level 1," she declared. "I'm deactivating the dampening field." Seconds later the alarm sounded, followed by an angry Klingon voice. Price tapped her communicator. "Overlord, I'm transmitting the co-ordinates now. Beam him out, then get us out of here." Klingons began charging into the room, and Luke and Leia provided cover for Price until the three were beamed up. In the transporter room she hit her comm badge. "Riklin's secure?"

"Aye, captain," said Tesh. "We're heading into hyperspace."

Price wiped the sweat from her brow. "Let's hope he was worth it."
--------------------------------------------------------------

Julian Bashir and Ezri Dax shared a laugh as well as a drink as they watched the evening's entertainment, which was Quark running around like a chicken with its head cut off. At the moment he was berating one of the waiters for some microscopic flaw. "Quark, relax," Ezri said.

"I am relaxed," Quark said, straightening his shirt. "Perfectly relaxed."

"Quark," Bashir said, "stop it. He may be the Grand Nagus, but he's still your brother."

"Exactly," Quark said irritably, "he's my brother. Family's always the first to take advantage of you-"

"Rom wouldn't do that," Ezri said.

"No? No? You don't know anything about Ferengi."

"Rom's a decent guy, Quark," Bashir said.

"Why is he coming then, hm?" Quark demanded.

"To see how you're doing, maybe?"

"Ha! Like I said, nothing about Ferengi." Quark stepped behind the bar. "He's assessing the place... going to see if maybe he should take it back, turn a tidy little profit."

"As much fun as this is," Bashir said, "we do have a holosuite scheduled for this evening."

"It's ready, it's ready," Quark said as if he were waving away an irritating bug. "They're just finishing the clean-up... had an error with the bio... thing."

"Bio-reclamation?" Bashir asked.

"They're cleaning it up," Quark said.

"Thanks, but no thanks," Bashir said. "I'm not about to risk Ezri and I being turned into random energy fields."

"It wasn't that kind of error," Quark snapped. "The system just didn't trigger, that's all."

"Just the same, you'll pardon me if I wait until Col. Kira had a diagnostic done."

"No refunds," Quark said quickly.

"I'm taking a rain check," Bashir said, and left before Quark could speak up. He was bumped into by a Trandoshan who was coming in, but Bashir decided not to comment.

"Listen," Quark said to the waiter, "when I say to recalibrate the replicator I don't mean to rub it with a damp towel! Get to it!" The Trandoshan knocked on the bar to get Quark's attention. "I'll be with you in a minute, Mr.-" A clawed hand grabbed a lobe and pulled him around to look the alien in the face.

"Bossk," the Trandoshan said. The universal translator was having trouble, the speech sounded more hissed than it should. "I'm looking for someone."

"Holosuites are being readied for that perfect companion," Quark said, mindful of the grip on his ear.

"I am looking for someone on this station, Ferengi," Bossk said. He let go for the moment, but it seemed to be just so Quark could see the claws up close. "I was told you could find them."

"I see," Quark said, nervousness in his voice. "Look, I'm really busy right now, do you think maybe you could come back-"

Quark was lifted half a meter off the ground as the Trandoshan grabbed his shirtfront in one clawed hand, and for a brief moment he thought the reptilian was going to try and eat him. Instead Bossk spoke with a menace the universal translator had no trouble conveying. "Where is Elim Garak?" he demanded.

"Cardassia!" Quark shouted. "He hasn't been on the station in months!"

"Where on Cardassia?" Bossk demanded.

"I don't know." Bossk hissed at him, a very unfriendly sound. "I told you he left, I haven't seen or heard of him since!"

Quark was pulled inches from Bossk's face. "You had better not be lying, Ferengi." Then he tossed Quark backwards, demolishing a pile of bottles. He was knocked out by the blow, but soon the room started coming back into focus-

"Uh- hi, Quark," Rom said cheerfully. "How's business?"

Quark lay amongst the broken bottles. "Fine, Rom... just fine."
--------------------------------------------------------------

As the countdown completed, the starlines appeared and normal space returned for the crew of the Overlord. Immediately alarms began sounding. "Captain," the officer at tactical called, "I'm detecting over eighty ships out there, ranging from slightly larger than a shuttle to over... 1500 meters."

"Hopefully this is the alliance and not an ambush," Price said, her own nervousness buried beneath her hardened facade.

"Assuming the two aren't mutually exclusive," Tesh replied from the first officer's chair.

"Incoming communication, audio only," tactical reported.

"Let's hear it," Price ordered.

"Overlord this is Solo," as the voice of the pilot came through the comm systems, "Hold your position while I inform command of your presence."

"Are you sure this is the right thing, captain," Tesh asked, his voice low. "It's not too late to turn back."

Price shook her head slowly. "We're committed now. We've become involved. For better or for worse."

"We can still..."

"Still turn a blind eye?" Price replied gloomily, "Because that's what we've been doing. We cannot continue to ignore the conflict that is consuming this quadrant. If we can help, even in the smallest way, we are obligated to help."

Tesh finally backed down, although he obviously didn't want to. "Very well, captain. But I want to go on record as saying that this is a mistake."

"Incoming communication, captain"

"Noted," she said to Test, then nodded to the tactical officer.

"You're cleared for approach, Overlord," was the message over the communication system.

"Lay in a course and proceed," Price commanded. The Overlord slipped into formation with the rest of the fleet. Price knew, knew in her very bones, that this was the right thing. She just hoped it was also the smart thing.
--------------------------------------------------------------

"Run it again," Picard ordered.

Data tapped several panels and the image again showed on the screen. They watched in silence as the people charged into the Klingon compound, their weapons blasting away at the fortifications. There was no mistaking the Starfleet stealth uniforms they wore, or the comm badges they each had. Analysis of the weapons' effects clearly showed that their weapons were type II and type III phasers. If this wasn't a Federation attack, someone had gone to great lengths to make it look like one.

And that was the problem. The Klingons were up in arms over this, claiming the Federation had betrayed them to the Romulans. The Empire was decidedly mute on the subject, but things weren't looking too good for the Federation. Worf, as ambassador to the Klingon Empire, managed to get a copy of the security recordings from the attack, hoping they could ascertain the identity of the invaders. If not, this already ugly war could get even worse.

"That device," Picard commented, "the one used to reflect the disruptors. What is that?"

"Unknown sir," Data replied. "Its ability to actually reflect the beam is puzzling. It obviously has some kind of energy properties, but I am not aware of any technology capable of such a compact projection method, or display those particular properties."

"I don't think any of us have seen anything like these devices before," Picard replied.

"I have," Seven spoke.

Picard looked at her with some surprise. "The Borg?" he asked with some hesitation.

"No," she responded. "Lord Darth Vader had such a device when we met."

Picard looked at Seven with surprise. She had been with Vader for only a few seconds several months ago, and yet she could recall with certainty an unknown piece of technology he carried. The thought boggled his mind, but he had learned over the previous months to trust Seven's memory. "He didn't say what it was, did he?" he asked, although he knew it was highly unlikely.

"No," she replied, "but I'm certain they are the same type of device. They are almost identical in shape, mass, and design. I was unable to find any reference to it in either the cultural or technology files we were given."

"Which leads us, uncomfortably, to reconsider Commander Riker's allegations," Picard concluded. "Only the Empire would have access to such devices."

"Not exactly, sir," Data replied. "This technology came from their galaxy. It's possible that anyone from their galaxy could have used it, not just the Empire."

Picard sat up suddenly, his mind racing. All of a sudden, it all fell into place. "The rebels," he whispered. "That's it... it's the only answer that makes any sense. The rebels could have used Cardassian ships to start a war between the Federation and the Cardassians by destroying Halva. This begins draining our resources and forcing the Empire to deploy more ships here. They then impersonate the Federation and launch an attack on the Klingon war camp to cause a division between us and the Klingons. The Empire is then trapped in the middle of a complex war, further diverting their attention."

"Interesting," Data replied, "but it is merely speculation, sir."

"Yes, I know," Picard replied, "but it's the only theory that makes any sense. It explains the Cardassian's pointless attack, the non-existent Federation invasion, and who these mysterious individuals were. The Rebellion has a history of acts of sheer brutality, so it explains the Halva massacre. Besides which, the attackers clearly had to be from the Empire's galaxy, so it's either the Empire or the rebels, and we've seen no evidence that it's the Empire."

"But we have seen no direct evidence it is the rebels either," Seven pointed out.

"Perhaps," Picard replied, "but they're the only ones who have benefited from this attack. And one thing I've learned from my Dixon Hill days, those who have the means, motive, and opportunity are usually the guilty party."

"If this is true Captain," Data replied, "how should we proceed?"

Picard sighed. "We're powerless for now. I'll inform Starfleet Command and hopefully they can tell the Empire what we've learned. I hope they can restore peaceful relations between the Federation and the Klingons. Mr. Data, I know Will has given you a lot to do, but when you find some time I want you to go over the Imperial data again. No offense, lieutenant, but a second glance with this new information may turn up something that you missed."

"No offense taken, sir," Seven said.

"Good. Seven, I want you to analyze the battle again, in detail. Specifically, those two combatants."

"You believe there is a connection between them and Lord Vader," Seven said.

"The way they moved is superhuman, Seven. And what Vader did was impossible. That all three possess these devices makes me inclined to think there's a link."

"I will endeavor to find it, sir," Seven said. Picard nodded and showed himself out, leaving Seven alone. She played the footage in full again, paying close attention. After it was done, she started at the beginning, paying particular attention to the one with the green weapon. It was amazing to watch him; his movements were quick and precise, flawless. It appealed to her Borg nature... maximum possible efficiency. Not a single wasted swing or step or movement. She watched him again, committing all his movements to memory... and then despite that she still found herself starting again when it was all over, though she would have been forced to admit she had no idea why she felt so compelled.

[Sonnenburg]

Part XIX


Col. Kira rushed out of her office and into Ops. "Report!" she shouted over the alert.

"Incoming ships," Lt. Blake called to her. "Cardassian, twenty-three ships. They're on an intercept course."

"How much time?" Kira asked quickly.

"Three minutes."

"What?" she asked incredulously. "This is the first we've sighted them?!"

Blake hesitated. "There was probably some interference due to..."

"Please, spare me the Starfleet lecture," she replied, heading for the lift. "Get the station ready for attack, and appraise Bajor and Starbase 1172 of the attack." She stepped into the lift as she tapped her communicator. "Nog, I want the Defiant prepped and ready for launch immediately."
--------------------------------------------------------------

"Aye, sir," Nog said. He turned to his father, holding up his hands in a placating gesture. "Look, I have to deal with this, we'll discuss things after I get back." Rom had been trying to track down the Trandoshan that roughed up Quark, but he seemed to have slipped off the station.

"But I have some new information-" Rom said as Bashir and Ezri came up.

"Lieutenant," Bashir said, "don't keep the colonel waiting."

"Sir," Nog said, and jogged off.

"Listen," Rom said, "this is important!" He turned to Bashir and Ezri. "This alien is a bounty hunter! He-"

"Rom," Bashir said, "we really don't have time for this right now."

"Look, I am the Grand Nagus, and I will not simply be ignored," Rom said. It wasn't threatening, it was more the voice of desperation.

"Julian," Ezri said, "go ahead. Rom, tell me everything and I'll see what I can do."

"I'll see you when I get back," Bashir said as he took off after Nog.

"Listen," Rom said to Ezri, "the bounty hunter was hired by the Empire!"

"What makes you say that?" Ezri asked.

"Profits!" Rom said. "You think money is being passed around and the Ferengi won't know about it?"

"You have a point," Ezri said. "But we are at war with Cardassia, Rom."

"But what he did-"

"Look, even if the Empire set up the bounty, they aren't responsible for what happened to Quark." Rom started to protest. "I know he's your brother, and you feel like you owe him, but you know that Quark deals in shady areas at times... and this is what happens."

"Don't dismiss this, just because he's a Ferengi," Rom said.

"You know I'd never do that," Ezri said. "Now, we better get to a shelter, all right?" Rom nodded finally, but was clearly not happy, and the two headed off for Deep Space Nine's emergency shelters.
--------------------------------------------------------------

The Defiant pulled away from its dock just as the Cardassian ships came out of warp. As the ship turned about and began moving to intercept, Kira felt her breath freeze in her chest. There were twenty-three ships alright, but not the standard Galors she'd been expecting. These were the Keldon-class ships, much larger and more powerful. She turned to the officer monitoring communications. "Any help on the way?"

"We've got the Chelnys, the Latinia, and the Vorral approaching from Bajor," she called. "They'll be here in two minutes."

Kira ground her teeth. Four against twenty-three. This didn't look good. "Well we'll have to buy them some time. Open a channel to the Cardassians." The officer nodded to her. "This is Colonel Kira. Why have you invaded our space?"

The image of a Cardassian appeared on the viewer. "This is Gul Nulek. You will stand down your weapons and prepare to be boarded."

"Standard Cardassian hail," Bashir quietly commented.

"And time for the standard Bajoran reply," Kira said. "Prepare to fire on my mark." They watched as the ships moved closer and closer, ignoring any orders to turn back. Finally, with no options left, Kira gave the command. "Fire."

The Defiant fired a series of phaser pulses at the nearest Keldon, battering its shields. The remaining ships of the fleet continued on, fourteen heading for Bajor while the rest went towards the station. The tiny ship performed some evasive maneuvers as the Keldon's tried vainly to connect, then fired again. "Their shields are at 42%," Nog called.

"Continue firing," Kira ordered. The Defiant rocked with an impact, but they fought on.

"Their shields are at 34%."

Kira gritted her teeth. "Three quantum torpedoes." She could sense the other officers on the bridge didn't like that order; even though there was a war, technically Bajor wasn't involved. If Kira deliberately gave the order to destroy the Cardassian ship, they'd be in it up to their necks. "We've got two dozen ships to worry about," Kira said, "this is no time to play with the kid gloves. Lock on and fire."

Three shimmering silver-white dots shot out of the ship, traveling in eerie silence towards the Cardassian ship. The explosions shook the vessel about as it experienced stresses it was never designed to endure. "Their shields are gone," Nog reported. "There's fluctuations in their power grid, multiple hull breaches-."

"Phasers," Kira ordered.

Nog only hesitated a second. "Aye, sir," he said. The Defiant swung around at the Cardassian ship, it's pulse phasers ripping through its hull. Within seconds, the explosions began appearing throughout the ship. As the Defiant raced away, the ship exploded in a brilliant shower of light and metal.

"Lay in a pursuit course," Kira ordered. She could see eight Keldons surrounding Deep Space 9, the rest of the fleet already far in the distance. "The other vessels should hopefully buy us some time. Fire on the nearest ship as soon as we're in range: Six quantums in a three quarter spread pattern." The tension on the bridge seemed to thicken; many of these officers were new to the Defiant, some hadn't seen any action at all in the Dominion War. They were used to Starfleet's usually soft methods; heavy-handed tactics didn't go over well. Well, Kira thought, it's time they learned what war is, in all its ugly details. They were one ship against a small fleet, they couldn't afford to pull their punches.

"Approaching optimal weapons range," Nog informed her.

"As soon as you have a lock, fire," Kira ordered.

Six torpedoes flashed out of their tubes in a criss-cross pattern, detonating on impact with the Cardassian warship. Its shields flared and vanished as the ship was rocked by the force of the blasts. The starboard hull shredded from the impact, and they watched equipment and soldiers sucked into the vacuum of space. "Their shields are gone," Nog reported. "Breaches to most of their starboard decks. Their life-support is offline."

"That should keep them occupied," Bashir remarked, looking at Kira. He was a combat veteran, and he understood, but he was also a doctor. There was a line he didn't want them to cross.

"Agreed," Kira said. "Course 029 mark 14...."

The ship shook violently, knocking many of them off their feet by the force of the blow. Apparently the Cardassians were taking the Defiant seriously now. "Evasive action," Kira ordered, "Damage report!"

"Direct hit on our aft section," Nog reported. "Shields at 71%."

"Bring us about and prepare to fire," Kira ordered. The ship pulled a sharp loop in space, coming back at the Keldon at its top speed, pulse phasers firing. The massive Keldon rotated to starboard to try to avoid the shots, but couldn't escape them all. Quickly it returned fire, its weapons narrowly missing the twisting Defiant as it overshot the Cardassians, and twisted back for another pass. Unfortunately, the Keldon anticipated the turn, and fired.

Kira shielded her eyes as an explosion flared from the communication panel. The young officer at that post was flung across the room into the wall with bonecracking force. Still, it didn't matter, the piece of the panel protruding from her neck showed she was already dead, though Bashir rushed to check on her anyway. Nog's went next, but the Ferengi had enough of a survival instinct to drop as it went up, but he let out a cry from the injury. Kira didn't have time to see to him, though; she instead began furiously tapping commands on her own small panel, trying to re-route weapons control to her chair. The ship rocked with a second strike, quickly followed by a third. Kira looked up to see that three of the Keldons had ganged up on the Defiant, their weapons fire turning this area of space into a deadly rain of energy. Again the ship shook, and Kira held on to her seat to avoid being thrown out. She tapped the panel and fired three full spreads of quantums, hoping to clear some space for them to have a moment.

"Colonel!" an officer who had taken over damage control called, "We've got a coolant leak in the warp core chamber! We've got to re-route power..."

"Then re-route!" Kira called, firing another volley of torpedoes. It was fortunate the Defiant carried as many as it did, they were all that was keeping them in the game.

"Sir, we're going to need to power down and..."

"Unacceptable," Kira interrupted, "we've got to hold them off...." She was quickly cut off by another explosion on the bridge. She watched in mute horror as the viewscreen began twisting and cracking, finally falling to the floor in a broken heap. Several Bajoran curses escaped her lips. "Stand your ground!" Kira ordered, getting to her feet. "We're not losing Bajor, not again!" The ship lurched violently, throwing Kira forward. There was a brief feeling of pressure as a large chunk of the viewscreen sheared her arm off... and then blackness took her.
--------------------------------------------------------------

Captain Price and Admiral Riklin materialized in the rebel base. "Welcome to Haven," Leia said. "Admiral Riklin, it's nice to be able to meet with you under better circumstances." The Romulan merely nodded, saying nothing. Leia turned and pointed. "This is General Riekken, commander of Haven, and this is Colonel Derlin, base security. This is Admiral Riklin of the Romulans, and this is Captain Price of the Overlord."

The group moved into the large meeting room off the command center. Leia sat at the head of the table, trying to control her anxiousness. She had negotiated many times before, sometimes with billions of lives on the line. This time, the fate of two galaxies was in her hands, but at least she had the Force, which gave her an advantage. She could sense Admiral Riklin was curious but distrustful at the moment - he would not be easily convinced.

"The Rebel Alliance," Leia began, "was formed to overthrow the Empire's stranglehold on our galaxy. We've fought them for years now, and we know you're fighting them too."

The Romulan was silent for a few moments. "What concern is that to the Alliance?" he asked, his voice shifty.

"We can help you fight them," Leia continued, trying to find some chink in his armor. Tesh was right, these Romulans weren't very trusting; they seemed to sense duplicity in everything. "We have experience and technology we'd be willing to share with you to fight the Empire."

"And you will do this all out of the kindness of your heart?" Riklin replied.

"Riklin," Price replied, her voice carrying a warning tone, "these people are trying to help you. I suggest you lose the attitude and listen to them; unless, of course, you're looking forward to your family working in a Klingon mining colony."

Leia felt a small flush come from the Romulan; apparently Price had hit a nerve. "And I suppose you," he said with some emphasis, "would certainly not be thinking of betraying us to the Federation. Or the Klingons perhaps?"

Leia interrupted as she felt Price's temper rise. "The Empire is the enemy of us all. We need to unite against them if there is to be any hope for both our galaxies."

Admiral Riklin turned his attention back to Leia. "And what precisely do you have to prove any of these lovely sentiments. This could all be an Imperial trick," he looked over at Price again. "Or a Federation one."

Price's fist was out in a flash. For a second, Leia thought she actually was going to hit him, but all she did was hold it in front of his face. Slowly it opened, small objects clattering to the desk. Riklin reached forward and examined one - a Federation comm badge.

"Seven," Price said, her voice lined with emotion. "Seven of my people gave their lives to get you out of that prison. Now I ask you, are their lives worth any trick we may have planned?"

"Yes," he said matter-of-factly. "But I don't think that's the case here," he added after a few seconds. "What do you want, exactly?" he asked Leia.

"We need to speak to your superiors about forming an alliance with them, possibly with the Cardassians as well. We'll provide technology and ships to help fight the war. All we ask is that you work with us against the Empire."

Riklin thought for several minutes, the silence nerve racking. Finally he spoke. "I will do what I can. Hopefully they will see this is the best way."
--------------------------------------------------------------

Picard watched as, once again, his senior officers took their place in the meeting room. Unfortunately, as it had always been for the past month, the news was grim. As part of his command duties, Data had taken the point on the incident to prepare the briefing. "The Cardassians, in an unexpected attack, have taken control of the Bajor System," he reported. "In less than eighteen hours they have suppressed all major resistance and established a relatively well-defended supply line to this position."

"Clearly they're planning to hold this position," Picard commented.

"More than likely, sir" Data replied.

"Why Bajor?" Dr. Crusher asked. "Surely there'd be better military targets than that?"

"It does seem a bit odd," Riker agreed.

"The Cardassians have a firmly entrenched belief in the power of their military," Data replied. "The recent failures against the Empire, coupled with the humiliation they suffered during the Dominion War, may be compelling them to seek any clear victory."

"So this invasion is purely for political reasons," Troi asked.

"It is the most likely possibility," Data replied.

"Which means," Picard replied, "the Cardassians are going to try to defend the system from any type of counterattack. Which means we need to be prepared for heavy resistance."

"We're going to try to retake the system?" Riker inquired.

Picard nodded. "The Enterprise will be joining up with the Borderlain, the Mirrimac, the Gilgamesh, the Bozeman, and the Inferno."

"The Inferno?" Riker replied. "I've never heard of it."

"That's because it's an Imperial ship," Picard replied. "The Imperials are providing extra firepower so we don't need to remove ships from the border patrols."

Riker's displeasure was obvious. Picard could understand his paranoia some; the Empire was becoming more and more involved in Federation affairs since this war began. Ratifying Imperial decisions was almost a formality at this point; Talva's popularity throughout the Federation was remarkable, and the opinion of Darth Vader in the upper echelons of Starfleet was well known. But it did show that the Empire was backing the Federation's plea of innocence in the attack on the Klingon prison, and that had gone a long way. Worf said things were strained, but Martok wasn't going to turn on the Federation. "Extra power... I just hope we're not selling our souls to the devil."

"Well, since this is not the USS Faust, I think we're safe," Picard said. "Dismissed." The senior officers filed out, except for Seven. "Did you find something?"

"No, captain," Seven said. "I am curious, however. What is this 'Faust?'"

"Ah, bit of a cultural reference there," Picard said, grateful for the chance to think about something besides war for a change. "Faust is an old Earth story; the most commonly referenced is the version by one Christopher Marlowe. The title character of the piece sells his soul to the devil to gain knowledge."

"So Faust is a metaphor on the evils of learning?"

"No, no, you see, Faust wanted knowledge because he knew that it was a doorway to power. In the end, however, despite all the power it gave him, it didn't stop him from losing his soul."

"The soul being a metaphor?"

"Well, I think it was intended to be taken literally, given the times... but it would make a good metaphor, to lose oneself because of a lust for power. You should read it, Seven, I think it might give you some insights into the human psyche."

"I will certainly consider it, captain," Seven said.

Picard led the way out of the meeting room. "I'm pleased to see you taking such an interest in Earth's culture," he said to Seven. "What brought this on, if I may ask?"

Seven seemed hesitant, as she often did with things that revolved around her. "I considered my comment on my culture being that of the Borg, and I came to realize that while it may be my culture, it is not one I am... proud of. I thought perhaps learning of my human background would change that."

"Good, if that's what you want," Picard said. "You are free to continue as you are, you know; no one will hold it against you."

Seven looked down a bit. "Yes, but I would remain an outsider."

Picard stopped her and stepped face-to-face. "Seven, you are-"

"I know what you will say, captain," Seven interrupted. "And I did not mean for you to take my remark as an accusation. I am an outsider because of my own... my own fears. I wish to be a part of this crew as much as the others, yet the closer I begin to feel... and the more I feel myself drawn, the more I wish to be further away." She put a hand to her head and shook it. "These paradoxes are proving to be most trying, captain."

Picard nodded, and he put his arm around her and led her up the hall. "Counselor Troi," he said, "could probably put this better than I, but let me just say that you've been very brave under the circumstances. You left the comfort of Voyager for new experiences, you rose to the challenge of joining Starfleet, and now you are working hard to make something of your life. You're going to go very far, Seven, I know it... these growing pains are only temporary. But if you need anything, I promise you that I will be your friend."

Seven swallowed. "Thank you, captain. That means a great deal to me."

Picard patted her on the shoulder and gave her that paternal smile. "Now, let's get some work done, shall we? We have a war to win, remember."

[Sonnenburg]

Part XX


Picard watched as the Gilgamesh came out of hyperspace, the fourth ship to join this small fleet destined for Bajor. All of the ships in this group, as well as the Imperial starship Inferno due to arrive any time now, were equipped with this new means of propulsion. They had already installed them on twenty percent of the fleet, and with the influx of some new Imperial equipment it looked like the fleet may be finished in as early as eight months. This would be excellent news if it weren't for the fact that the entire quadrant had turned into a powder keg. They stood on the eve of a new era of exploration, and they were still dealing with the petty bickering of the past century.

Only now it wasn't so petty. Things were, in fact, about as bad as they could get. The Federation, Klingons and Empire fighting a war against the Cardassians and Romulans, with millions already dead on both sides of the conflict. This could finally be it, Picard thought, the end of the centuries-long "cold war" that had dominated their existence. Would they be the survivors or would it be the Cardassians and Romulans who prevailed. From the looks of things, the latter seemed unlikely; Cardassian efforts to break Imperial control of the demilitarized zone were abysmal failures, and the Empire and Klingon fleets continued to overrun one Romulan system after another. While it was comforting to be on the winning side, Picard found it difficult to justify this clearly one-sided conflict, particularly with new evidence that this war may have been precipitated by the Rebellion. Still, he had to admit, the unprovoked attack on Utopia Planetia didn't help matters. In the end, Picard decided, he was just plain sick of war, and wished that, just for once, the galaxy would see things his way.

"Sir," Lt. Travis called, "ship coming out of hyperspace." He stood speechless at his post.

"Is it the Inferno," Picard finally asked.

"I hope so," Travis muttered. Regaining his composure, he began to report. "The vessel appears to be of Imperial design, approximately 13,000 meters long."

"What?!" Picard asked in shock. Even Borg cubes weren't that big! Some space stations weren't that big!

"They're hailing us," Travis replied.

Picard nodded to him, and the message began.

"This is Admiral Praji," the voice spoke plainly. "Just so we understand one another, I am in command of this mission; I expect you all to follow my orders."

Picard looked dumb-founded at Riker. "Rather to the point," Riker commented a little darkly.

"Admiral, this is Capt. Picard. With all due respect, this is a Federation matter. We appreciate the assist-"

"Captain," the Admiral interrupted, a note of annoyance in his voice, "I am the senior officer in this fleet. The Inferno is the ship of greatest tactical importance in this fleet. Do I have to quote Starfleet regulations to you, or will you accept my authority?"

Data turned to Picard. "He is correct sir. Under Starfleet regulation..."

"Thank you Data," Picard replied bitterly. He knew the regulation, but it had always been intended for interactions among Federation ships, not mixed fleets.

"Sir," Travis said, "we've received a communication from Starfleet confirming the change of command. We're to defer to the admiral, sir."

Picard looked at Riker, but his first officer simply dropped into his chair without comment. "Very well, Admiral," Picard said. "What are your orders?"

"You've been given the hyperspace coordinates. Prepare to go to hyperspace on my mark."

"I'm sure glad he was around to tell us that," Riker said under his breath.

"Yellow alert," Picard said, ignoring the remark. When the order came the small fleet vanished into hyperspace.
--------------------------------------------------------------

There were a large number of armed guards waiting when the Millennium Falcon touched down, and Leia could sense they were willing to use them. She could also sense Han's nervousness as he powered the ship down; she'd have to go with Admiral Riklin alone. Han caught her hand as she got up to leave the cockpit. "Listen," he said in a very serious tone, "be careful. You..." His voice just trailed off; she could tell that for the first time he didn't know what to say.

"I'll be fine," she promised. She squeezed Han's hand, then left the cockpit; Riklin was waiting. "After you, admiral," she said, straightening her Jedi robes. She followed him down, her lightsaber at her belt as an in case, although she knew if she had to go for it she'd likely be dead anyway.

A Romulan officer came up and took Riklin a short distance away. An ability of the Jedi is to enhance one's senses, so she did so; perhaps it was spying, but under the circumstances, the more she knew, the safer they'd all be. Still these Romulans were good; she was actually having trouble hearing them over the sound of the blood traveling through her head, they were that quiet.

"Are you sure this is wise, admiral?" the officer asked.

Leia could sense Riklin's uncertainty. "No, but it's our best hope for winning this war."

"So you intend to vouch for her before the Senate?"

"Someone must," Riklin said, none to happy about it, "and so it seems to fall to me. Besides, failure couldn't be worse than what the Klingons had planned for me."

The officer nodded and left. Riklin came back while Leia returned her senses to normal. "I'll take you to speak with the Senate soon," he said. "I hope you can convince them."

"As do I," Leia said, and she followed Riklin out of the docking area into the city.
--------------------------------------------------------------

In hyperspace, Admiral Praji held a meeting among the commanders via the "holonet," which was being held in each ship's respective holodeck. Praji was different to be sure; unlike Thrawn, who had an air of experience and culture, Praji was a bit stiff. He also seemed rather uncomfortable with Velt, the Bolean commander present.

"Current intelligence tells us the Cardassians have approximately twenty starships in the area. We're not sure exactly, but we believe they may have taken civilian hostages on board their vessels, no doubt in an effort to deter us from engaging their ships."

"I find it hard to believe even the Cardassians would resort to the use of humanoid shields," Capt. Wallace of the Gilgamesh commented.

"Our mutual experiences with the Cardassians shows that nothing is beneath them," Praji replied. "And with the Inferno's ion cannons ineffective we're going to have to take it easy on them at first. I want your transport officers ready to beam out any hostages the moment their shields are down. It will take some complicated coordination, since you don't want to be flying with your shields down any longer than necessary. For this reason, the Inferno will take the point as well as the brunt of the attack."

"Twenty against you?" Velt asked incredulously. "Do you really expect to prevail against such odd?"

Praji glared at him. "The Inferno can handle anything the Cardassians have. Don't worry about us, just be prepared to defend your positions and grab the hostages."

As they walked out Riker turned to Picard. "Did you see the way he looked at Velt? Like he was something he scraped of his boot."

"Probably just Imperial pride," Picard remarked. "The Inferno is an impressive ship, and it wouldn't surprise me if it lives up to Praji's claims."

"I understand that," Riker replied, "but have you noticed something about the Imperials? Every one of them we've met has been human."

"You forgot Thrawn," Picard said.

"Yes," Riker admitted, "but besides him there hasn't been a single non-human in the Imperial forces."

"Yes, just a grand admiral," Picard replied with a smile.

"My point, sir, is that it's rather odd. It's my job to call attention to anomalies, sir."

"Fair enough," Picard said. "And I'll never fault you for doing your job, Will, and I'll consider your observations. Right now, however, we have a battle to win, and if the admiral is correct, it won't be easy to win without killing our own people. Let's focus on that for the moment, shall we?"

"Of course, sir," Riker said, but it was clear he still had some doubts.
--------------------------------------------------------------

The Emperor felt Vader's presence in the Force from deep in his meditation. "What is it, my friend?"

"A small rebel force has invaded the Milky Way and has attacked the Klingons."

"As expected," was his only reply.

Vader paused, unsure of how to broach this topic. "My son is with them." Darth Vader had thought he'd recognized the boy from the recordings of the invasion. His personal inspection of the Klingon prison confirmed it; he could sense that Luke had been there recently.

"Naturally," the Emperor replied. "The Rebels are nearing extinction, and he will fight all the harder. His passion in the end will prove his undoing."

"There is something more," Vader said, not dwelling on the fact that the same could have been said of him long ago. "There was a second Jedi with him, a girl."

The silence lasted a great while. "Are you certain?" the Emperor asked, his voice now possessing a slight edge to it.

"Whoever she was was trained in the Jedi arts," Vader confirmed.

The Emperor thought this over for some time. "It is of no importance," he finally said. "The young Skywalker will embrace the Dark side regardless of this element; I have already foreseen it. Soon the rebellion will be wiped out and the conquest of the alpha quadrant will be complete. Continue your task, my friend. The Federation and Klingons will soon fall under our total control, and the Cardassians and the Romulans will fall." A wicked grin crossed his lips. "It is their destiny."
--------------------------------------------------------------

The fleet dropped out of hyperspace. "Load all torpedo bays, stand by weapons," Riker ordered as Picard changed from yellow to red alert.

They watched as the Inferno drove ahead of the rest of the fleet, slicing through space like some massive shark. As it approached, pinpoints of light began flying from the ship, fleas by comparison to the massive vessel. The Cardassians moved to engage the ship while the Federation vessels remained far from the fray, waiting for the critical moment when their shields fell. The Inferno began firing, its weapons filling space with turbolaser bolts.

"Transporter room," Picard called over the comm, "Do you have any Bajoran life signs?"

"Negative, sir", the transporter chief replied, "but there's a lot of interference."

"Keep scanning," Picard ordered.

The Inferno took a sixty degree rotation on its z axis, bringing more of its heavy weapons to bear. Cardassian vessels began surrounding it, blasting at the massive ship, yet with little visible effect. Even the massive Keldons looked like shuttles next to the Inferno. Picard had to admit that Praji's confidence was well-founded.

"Transporter room," Riker called after another minute, "any locks yet?"

"Negative, sir. Still nothing."

"Perhaps there aren't any," Troi commented. "Maybe the information is wrong."

Picard hesitated. "I'm not sure we should assume that. I'd rather err on the side of caution."

"If there are no hostages," Seven commented, "the Imperials could employ their heavy weapons and we could engage the enemy as well. This would increase total firepower by 268.3%"

"268.5%," Data commented.

Seven paused. "...yes..." she muttered.

"Get a room you two," Riker said, trying vainly to lighten the grim mood. Seven and Data looked at one another with a moment of shared confusion, then got back to their tasks.

Picard shifted in his chair as he mulled it over. "Contact the other vessels, see if they've had better luck than we have."

"Our chief engineer has found a way to cut through the interference," Capt. Wallace reported minutes later. There's just Cardassians on board those vessels."

"Understood," Picard replied, turning to his first officer. "Should we assume it was all a mistake?" Riker said nothing, but finally nodded his head. "I want continued scans," Picard said, "if there is the slightest indication of Bajorans on board I want to know it."

"Sir," Lt. Travis reported, "another ship, Galor-class, has entered the area."

"Inform the Inferno that we've detected no hostages and are moving to engage," Picard ordered. "Ahead full impulse, stand by weapons." The sleek Sovereign lunged forward, followed closely by the remaining Starfleet vessels as they approached the heart of the battle.

Suddenly a mass of weapons fire burst from the Inferno and ripped into three nearby Cardassian vessels. In less than two seconds their shields were gone; a few more blasts and the ships were expanding clouds of plasma.

"It seems the admiral wasn't just boasting," Riker replied, a mixture of awe and horror in his voice.

"Certainly not," Picard agreed. He watched as the other Keldons changed positions and attempted a concentrated attack on one side. The Inferno's shields were straining to hold against it. The Inferno fired back, hard and deadly, turning more Cardassian ships into debris. By the time the Federation vessels had reached the battle the Keldons were beginning their retreat.

"Admiral Praji is ordering a pursuit," Lt. Travis reported.

Picard hesitated. The Cardassians understood what they were up against; further attacks would only be a slaughter, but then, any ship that escaped today would be one they'd have to fight tomorrow. He didn't like it, but it wasn't his choice in any case. "Lay in a pursuit course," he ordered grudgingly. "Target their weapons," he ordered Lt. Travis, "see if you can disable rather than destroy them."
--------------------------------------------------------------

Ezri Dax, Jake Sisko, Grand Nagus Rom and his wife Leeta sat in restraints in Ops. While the ship captains hadn't resorted to humanoid shields, the commander of the station felt it couldn't hurt to discourage shots to his part of the station. "Have your teams standing by," he ordered his subordinate. "If the Empire wants this station, they're going to pay for it with blood."

"Why die needlessly?" Ezri asked.

"Silence!" the commander said, because it was expected for him to shout something like that.

"You can't win, and you won't even put a dent in their forces," Ezri continued. "You can end this without losing your or your troops' lives." The commander turned to berate her but was interrupted.

"Sir," one of the officers said, "torpedoes incoming!"

The commander turned back to the display. "They wouldn't dare," he said with a voice like a knife.

"Sir, it's... it's one of ours."

They watched the glowing images grow. Shields were already at maximum; hopefully they could stand up to the punishment. Leeta looked over with worry at Rom. "We'll be fine," he said, trying to sound brave, but the fact it was Rom meant it was absolutely unconvincing. But he was trying, he was really trying to be strong for her. They all turned and watched the torpedoes as they reached the shields.... and didn't stop. There was only a second for them to react before the first collided with Ops.
--------------------------------------------------------------

There was a sudden flash of such intensity the bridge crew instinctively covered their faces. "What was that?" Riker demanded.

Lt. Travis could barely speak the words. "Deep Space 9 is gone, sir."

Picard turned and looked at him, unable to believe what had happened. "How?"

"The Galor, sir, it..."

"No Galor packs that much firepower!" Riker interrupted, fuming in impotent rage.

"According to our sensors," Lt. Travis continued, "the Galor fired eight torpedoes at the station, destroying it."

"Perhaps the vessel was modified to increase its efficiency," Seven speculated.

"Then why were they such easy pickings for the Inferno?" Riker demanded. "Where's the Galor now?"

"Gone sir," Travis replied. "It went to warp just after it destroyed the station."

"Pursuit course?" Riker asked the captain.

"Negative," Picard said after a moment's thought, "we still have several Keldon's to drive out of the system; we don't want to leave Bajor under-protected."

"Sir," Lt. Travis spoke suddenly, "Admiral Praji is ordering us to scan the debris for any sign of survivors."

Picard shifted uncomfortably. This entire affair was rather strange. Why should they scan the debris? Obviously there could be no survivors of the station exploding and any emergency pods would be sending out a beacon they would have detected. Besides which, why send the most powerful Federation ship available to scan the field? "Helm," he said with a sigh, "set a course for the remains of Deep Space 9. Scan the debris, sensors at maximum."

While the Enterprise altered course the remains of the fleet continued their pursuit of the Cardassians. The Bozeman, its oversized pulse cannon flaring, pounded away on the shields of one of the Keldon's until they collapsed. A group of TIE fighters were on it in seconds, bombarding it with proton torpedoes. The explosions across the ships suddenly flared, and the ship exploded so quickly three TIEs were consumed by the debris field. The Inferno continued to lead the chase, its heavy weapons pounding any Keldon unfortunate enough to stray too close. By the time the Cardassian escaped the system their fleet was reduced to just three vessels. A definite victory for the Empire. And the Federation, of course.

"Still no signs of any survivors, captain," Data reported.

"Continue," Picard said, trying to keep the frustration out of his voice. "Lt. of Nine, see if you can implement the changes from the Gilgamesh to enhance our scans."

"Yes, captain," Seven said.

"Sir," Lt. Travis reported, "Adm. Praji is hailing us."

The admiral's voice came over the comm system. "The Cardassians have fled the system. Bajor is safe once again."

"Pity we can't say the same for DS9," Riker replied darkly.

"Yes," Praji replied, his voice devoid of emotion, "a tragic loss. Rest assured, the Cardassians will pay for this slaughter."

The comm fell silent, echoing the quiet that filled the bridge. The only sound was Picard drumming his fingers on the arm of his chair. "Lt. Of Nine," he said finally. "I want you to analyze the battle again in detail. I'm sick of being in the dark on this. There's an answer to this insanity, and we're going to find it."

[Spice Runner]

A certain saying comes to mind. "Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice shame on me..."

[Sonnenburg]

Yeah, and again, part of the reason for the re-write. Originally, Picard was written waaaay too naive. It was practically to the point where Thrawn could shoot Riker right in front of Picard and then just say he was a rebel agent, and Picard would buy into it. As we've seen here, he's more willing to simply color over the Empire's actions because in his excitement at this new era he doesn't want to really see what Riker's telling him. Obviously this part has finally opened his eyes and convinced him to at least look into what's going on rather than taking the party line.

[Ghost Rider]

After re-reading the original and this, I am greatly enjoying the small nuances you've decided to change(Picard's thoughts and such not). Truly a class act.

[Sonnenburg]

Thanks. It's been a lot of hard work, but a lot of fun. Starting very soon, stuff that's only been alluded to is going to finally be incorporated into the story... as well as a bit of foreshadowing for a major event down the road.

[Sonnenburg]

Part XXI


"I doubt anyone could imagine brutality on the scale the Cardassians continue to display," the recording of Amb. Talva spoke. "And yet, we see example after example of how they are willing to slaughter the innocent without rhyme or reason." There was a brief pause. "After much deliberation, it has been decided that peaceful coexistence with the Cardassians is an impossibility. It is a step we do not take lightly, indeed it is one we'd rather not take at all. But the simple fact is, they represent a clear and perpetual danger to both the Federation and the Empire, as well as the other independent worlds fighting to defend themselves from Cardassian tyranny. It is for this reason that we will not stop until the Cardassian military has been dismantled, and their villainous leaders removed from power. I regret that these measures must be taken, but if we are to ever bring peace to the quadrant and freedom to the Cardassians, it is the only way."

Capt. Price keyed off the comm, then turned to Leia. "Well, this will certainly push the issue with the Cardies."

Leia made no reply, but she had to agree with the assessment. While the Romulans had listened to reason and agreed to an alliance, the Cardassians had remained stubborn in their distrust. Despite the recommendations of the Romulan Senate they had refused to discuss anything involving the rebellion. Hopefully the pressure the Empire and Federation were about to bring would convince them otherwise. Unfortunately, Leia was becoming less sure if allying with them was such a good idea. "How many people were on Deep Space 9?" she asked quietly.

Price thought for a moment. "Maybe ten thousand. Depends on the amount of traffic when the Cardies invaded." There was silence. "It's hard to believe they'd destroy it. There were almost certainly Cardassians on board at the time."

"Yes," Leia said thoughtfully. Still, there was no denying the reality of the situation. There was a war going on, and in war, sadly, people die. It's unavoidable. Many more would probably be killed before the threat that was the Empire was removed from this galaxy. And yet, the thought of fighting alongside someone who was really no better than the Empire did not sit well with her at all. It was difficult, justifying such a disregard for what they believed in. But what was the alternative? Even with the Cardassians on their side, the cause seemed hopeless. The rebellion hadn't been able to stop the Empire, let alone the forces of the Federation and the Klingons. As distasteful as it may be, the Cardassians were a necessary evil if there was any hope for victory.

Of course, the thought was entirely academic at this point, since the Cardassians hadn't agreed to join the "New Alliance" as it was called. But with this announcement, with the threat of total demilitarization hanging over their heads, maybe they would see the light.

"How long have you fought the Empire?" Price asked.

Leia sighed slightly, the weight of the years hanging heavy on her young shoulders. "I've hated it all my life," Leia said, memories of her father's frustrations coming back to her. "In my years in the Senate I took every action to curb Imperial policies and try to restore the Republic. After some time, I realized that we were accomplishing nothing, and that the injustices continued despite our best efforts. Eventually I joined the alliance, but only as an information provider and diplomat; I didn't spend much time learning combat training."

"You wouldn't know from watching," Price commented.

"That's not quite what I meant," Leia replied. "I mean, I was never trained to be a soldier. Being a Jedi isn't the same thing, not by a long shot."

"I can understa-" Price was cut off by a voice from the comm.

"Captain, there's a message coming through from Senator Velnic," it said.

"Acknowledged," she replied, tapping her communicator. She stepped over and activated the display on the wall of the meeting room.

"Ambassador Organa. Captain," the Senator spoke formally. "The Cardassians have just informed us that they're accepting the invitation to join the New Alliance. In addition, thirteen independent systems have joined as well."

"Excellent," Leia replied, her mixed feelings coming back. Of course, now was not the time to voice such thoughts. "We'll need to gather and discuss our next course of action. For the sake of political stability, we'll need a decisive victory by our forces relatively soon, to show that the New Alliance is making progress."

"Agreed," the senator replied. "I'll arrange an organization of Romulan and Cardassian military commanders to meet with your experts. Together we'll work out a plan of attack and hopefully a campaign to rid the quadrant of this evil."

With that the senator was gone. Price stepped forward and keyed off the display. There was a noticeable look of concern on her face. "I don't like when politics gets involved in warfare," she commented. "The result is usually needless bloodshed."

Leia nodded slightly, understanding the reason for Price's concern. She had spent a great deal of time learning more about the Dominion War, and learned about the terrible toll the war had had on the Federation. It was obvious now why they had sided with the Empire; they had probably been seen as a savior instead of the brutal dictatorship it clearly was. They'd allowed necessity to blind them to the Empire's crimes.

Leia put a hand to her head. And yet you'll side with the Cardassians, she scolded herself. Admit it, Leia, you're in no position to judge anyone.
--------------------------------------------------------------

Seven of Nine was at work in one of the science labs when Data arrived; he'd offered to assist her in her investigation, and she'd accepted, knowing he was an invaluable source of information and ideas. "Good evening, lieutenant," he said. Seven acknowledged him, but continued working. "Before we continue our investigations, I thought I would implement an environmental adjustment."

"What kind, exactly?" Seven asked, continuing her work.

"In my studies, I have learned that humans often surround themselves with items of humor to increase their productivity. I have consulted with Geordi and he provided me with this." Seven turned and Data held up a sign.

"The beatings will continue until morale improves," it said.

Seven turned away from Data and returned to her work at the console. Data frowned and put his sign down. "Do you not understand the meaning of the sign?" Data finally asked, a look of curiosity and concern on his face. "I will admit that humor was originally a concept my program could not master-"

"I am familiar with humor," Seven replied. She had learned rather quickly that although Lt. Comm. Data was brilliant –far more than even she was, she'd admitted– he had a tendency to state the obvious. "I simply do not find it amusing."

Data's brow furrowed. "Strange. When Geordi showed me the sign I found it quite humorous. It is a contradiction you see; morale, of course, cannot be improved through consistent repetitive punishments, particularly ones of such..."

"I understand," Seven interrupted, continuing her work. "I simply do not find it humorous."

Data put down the sign, clearly thinking. Finally he stepped forward. "Knock knock," he said, and waited.

Seven turned slightly to look at him, her hands still working the console. "Do you require something?"

Data hesitated. "The traditional reply is 'Who is there?'" he prompted.

"I am capable of identifying you without requesting confirmation," Seven said, her attention refocused on her analysis.

"No," Data responded, ever patient. "This brand of humor is referred to as a 'knock knock' joke. It is a rudimentary form of humor, often utilizing puns or wordplay."

"Commander," Seven said, turning away from the workstation for the first time. "I am aware that in this hierarchy you possess a more authoritative position, and thus I am compelled by my duty to obey your commands. However, as this is my investigation, I request that you terminate this irrelevant line of discussion."

Data nodded in agreement. "Of course. It was not my wish to disturb you." Data turned and hung his sign on the wall.

Seven got back to her work, but then stopped. The interruption had gotten her thinking... "Commander, may I engage you in a topic of a personal nature?"

"Certainly, lieutenant," Data said.

Seven seemed slightly ill at ease. "It is my understanding that you have had experience in personal development with this crew... in the area of human understanding."

"If you are referring to my efforts to be more human, yes," Data said. He cocked his head. "Is that what you seek, lieutenant?"

"No," she said, perhaps a little faster than she should have. "Captain Picard has provided me some guidance on this. But a question has arisen for me, one which I cannot bring to him.... it occurred to me that you may have experience in this area."

"I will endeavor to help you, lieutenant," Data said.

"I-" She faltered. "I trust you will not share this with others," she said.

"Assuming this is a matter that will not affect your ability to perform your duty, no."

"I have found myself... thinking about someone."

"Yes?"

"Yes," Seven said.

"Is there any significance to this?"

Seven opened her mouth and shut it. "I find myself thinking about this person at odd times."

"Perhaps it would be clearer if you said who it was you were thinking about," Data said.

"It is..." Seven looked down. "It is not important."

"Lieutenant," Data said. "If your thoughts are of a member of the crew-"

"He's not," Seven said. "He's-" She faltered. "He's the Rebel."

"Ah, the one you are investigating," Data said. "That is why you are thinking about him."

"No," Seven said. "I have not been thinking about him from an academic standpoint... I... I find myself..."

"Am I to deduce from your statements, and your unwillingness to discuss this with others, that you are experiencing physical attraction towards this individual?"

"I do not even know this individual," Seven said. "To be attracted to him would be impossible."

Data frowned and shook his head a little. "I disagree, lieutenant. You can experience attraction from subconscious extrapolations based upon your observations. For example, the rebel's proficiency and control in the engagement may lead you to conclude that he would be an appealing counterpart, a protector who understands the need for restraint and dispassion. You may feel an attraction towards what he represents rather than what he is."

"That is irrational," Seven said, with a small amount of self-disappointment in her voice.

"Not at all. I have on numerous occasions thought of Lieutenant Tasha Yar, whom I had-" Data considered, "-let us call them 'feelings' for lack of a better term. Yet she has been dead for many years. It is not unnatural."

Seven swallowed and looked down. "I have spoken often to the captain of the paradoxes of human emotions. With this I am experiencing another. I greatly desire to learn more about this man, to possibly meet him and talk with him. And yet, the thought of doing so is... terrifying." She looked up at Data. "Is that rational?"

Data considered. "No," he said. Seven's face became even more downcast. "But I must confess that despite my efforts to be more like humans, I do not fully understand them. You may seek enlightenment from the captain, or Counselor Troi."

"No, I cannot," Seven said.

Data thought about the remark. "Why can you talk to me, yet not to them?"

Seven wet her lips as she thought of how to express it. "Because humans would view this feeling through their own perspectives, and would inevitably allow it to influence their interactions with me. I know that you are devoid of such prejudices, that you would view me in the same manner you always have."

"That is correct," Data said. "And I will keep your secret, lieutenant."

"Thank you, commander," Seven said. She paused. "While I do not find your sign humorous, I do appreciate your efforts in improving our efficiency. I will be sorry to see you depart the Enterprise."

"Thank you. I will miss you as well, lieutenant. Your presence has been intellectually stimulating." Seven nodded and hesitantly returned to work. Data did as well, for a while. "Have you thought at all about-" he began as he looked up, but noticed she was fixated on the display. "Have you learned something?" he asked.

Seven looked up at him. "Where's the captain?" she asked quickly.

"He is in Paris," Data replied, "attending the celebratory dinner held by the council."

"I must speak with him at once," Seven replied, urgency in her voice.

Data shook his head. "The captain cannot be disturbed. It is a political function, one which requires his full attention. I have learned that despite necessity, such events must take precedence over matters of apparently higher concern. You will have to wait until 2300 hours."

"Then I must speak with the Commander," Seven replied, her voice filled with urgency and frustration. "Immediately."

"What have you learned?" Data asked, curiously.

"I am not certain," Seven replied, a rare look of worry on her face. "But I believe it sheds a light on the destruction of Deep Space 9, and possibly on this entire war."
--------------------------------------------------------------

Picard sat back as the second course was placed in front of him. The banquet was dull, but that seemed to be one of the requirements of an official banquet. But it all came with the pips. This was the six month anniversary of the meeting of the Empire and the Federation; not something one would normally consider noteworthy, but apparently someone thought it would be an opportunity to strengthen relations, especially during the recent escalation of the war. He had been invited because of his role in the peace negotiations, as had Captain Janeway, Admiral Jellico, and several other officers. Even Grand Admiral Thrawn had returned from the Borg campaign to attend this celebration. It had provided Picard with a rather high position on the table, seated across from Amb. Talva himself. As was expected, they engaged in formal but polite conversation.

Unfortunately, the most dominating thought on Picard's mind was Talva's speech. He'd had almost two days to think it over, and every time it seemed worse and worse.

The President stood up at the head of the table, being the highest ranking official in the room. Lord Vader, strangely enough, was nowhere to be seen, but Picard wondered how he would even eat with that strange mask in the first place. Does he even eat, Picard wondered. He had learned that Seven of Nine's assessment was correct, that Darth Vader was a cyborg. The Borg didn't eat, Picard thought, and neither does Seven for that matter, so perhaps he doesn't either. He focused on the here and now as the President raised his glass.

"To the Empire and the Federation," he spoke, catching just the right mix of formality and volume. "May they be forever united in peace and prosperity."

Several glasses were raised in acknowledgement. Picard watched Talva sip his. "Hopefully peace will be coming soon enough," Talva said, setting down his glass.

"It would come much sooner," Picard said, "if we stopped escalating our conflicts." Mentally he kicked himself; the wine loosened his tongue a bit too much. Now was the time for diplomacy.

"Peace at what price," demanded the representative of Ooleva. "To die in our beds from Cardassian attacks instead of in battle?"

"I'm sure that's not what the captain meant," Talva replied, a slight smile on his lips. "He's concerned about the preservation of life, as we all are."

It was a fine rescue, which saved the situation from escalating into a full-blown argument with the ambassador. Very astute... but the problem was, Picard was tired of the twisting of words, of cries for "safety" and "security" being used as an excuse to further bloodshed; of the words "preservation of life" twisted to justify taking it. "Which is why I'm not in favor of an extended invasion of Cardassian space," Picard said, taking a sip of his own drink. There, he'd said it. He could at least look himself in the mirror.

"Oh, I quite agree captain," Talva said, his voice filled with a mix of sincerity and sorrow. "Alas, if the Cardassians had not forced this upon us, we could adopt a more humane solution. It's unfortunate that they're too primitive to understand the benefits of coexistence."

"Will this really protect the Federation," Picard replied, "or isn't it just an excuse for revenge."

"Yes to both," Talva replied.

Picard stopped as he reached for his fork. He couldn't believe the ambassador actually admitted it, but then, the Empire never did claim to be "evolved" like the Federation often did. Still... "You're admitting this is being done at least in part out of revenge?"

"Absolutely," Talva said, his smile gleaming. "It's a natural reaction and I see no need to deny it. The Cardassians slaughtered innocent people -our people- and together we will punish them. What is the problem with that?"

"The problem," Picard said, preparing to take another sip, "is that such emotions are very dangerous. I'm sure the Vulcan's would agree."

"Yes," Talva said, his smile slightly icy. "So would the Borg."

Picard did his best not to spit his drink back out. Well played, ambassador, he thought. Not only do you equate my position with the evils of the Borg, but you get the chance to rub my own desire for revenge upon them in my face. You know just what words to use, even without your speechwriters to help you. Picard should have known that he was out of his league in taking on Talva.

A tap on his shoulder drew his attention away from the table. A well-dressed server whispered to him that there was a persistent message from the Enterprise that he speak with them immediately. Thank goodness, Picard thought, a way out of this conversation with what little bits of his dignity were still intact. He excused himself and walked out of the hall. Keying the display, he saw his first officer, a look of agitation on his face. "What is it, Number One?"

"Sir," Riker said, "Lt. of Nine has completed her analysis of the Battle of Bajor. It's important that you see it right away."

"It's that important," Picard asked with a frown. The dinner was significant, but Riker had served under him long enough to know what is an emergency and what could wait.

Riker nodded. "You have no idea."

[Sonnenburg]

Part XXII


Still in his dress uniform, Picard strode through the halls of the Enterprise towards Science Room 1. He had left an official Federation function, which meant he would probably receive a severe dressing down for his absence, but if there was one thing he relied on, it was his first officer's judgment. Stepping into the room, he saw Riker, Data, and Seven gathered around the display, looks of concern on all of their faces. "What's so important," Picard asked as he stepped up to the group.

"Sorry to disturb you, sir..." Riker began. Picard waved it aside.

"I'm sure whatever it is must be very urgent," Picard replied, looking at the display that had everyone's attention. On the screen were several reproductions of the former station Deep Space 9, its destruction at the hands of the Cardassians played out at several angles. Seven looked at him with some hesitation.

"I've completed my analysis of the destruction of the space station," Seven said. "The Inferno was employing heavy jamming throughout the area, but using the filtering systems provided by the Gilgamesh crew I was able to construct a more detailed sensor image of the destruction."

Picard nodded. How one ship could single-handedly defeat a station designed to resist a force of fifteen Galor-class vessels had puzzled him greatly. He doubted even the Enterprise could destroy the station if it tried, let alone in a single volley. "Cardassian torpedoes shouldn't have that kind of destructive capability," he commented.

"No," Seven said. "And these were not normal Cardassian torpedoes. The weapons used a polarized helium matrix."

"Polarized helium matrix?" Picard repeated. "I've never heard of such a thing."

"I was unaware of such a device as well," Data replied. "However, it does fit the description of the weapons, once the principles were explained."

Seven tapped the panel, causing a diagram to appear of molecular bonds. "The weapon used extreme high energy bonds formed by combining light elements with helium in a charged lattice that will completely bypass any known energy shield. The compounds are highly unstable and explode with the force of three photon torpedoes."

"Even more powerful than a quantum torpedo," Riker muttered.

"Yes," Seven said. "However, not only is the weapon highly unstable, it is ineffective if stored for any considerable length of time, since the weapon deteriorates rather quickly. The weapon deteriorates into harmless elements within thirty-two hours of construction. Also, its very nature dictates that it can only be fired at very low speeds, as any high levels of inertia will destabilize the weapon."

Picard found this entire subject dubious. "Are you suggesting that this weapon, which uses chemical," he emphasized the word, "energy can produce more power than an anti-matter reaction?"

Seven tapped several keys, the images replaced by several diagrams and three graphs. "The entire substance acts as a single molecule, utilizing a continuous re-harmonization to retain the energy. The substance is formed by a high energy input into the system, forming the original matrix state. Unfortunately, correction for quantum variance is impossible and the entire weapon slowly loses energy in the form of heat and theta radiation. Helium bonds, by their very nature, are unstable."

"According to known chemistry helium bonds are an impossibility," Data remarked to the captain.

"Yes. However the Yynerm were able to synthesize it and use it as a weapon," Seven said.

"The Yynerm?"

"Species 2901," Seven said. "They are the only known species to possess such technology."

"Where are these Yynerm now," Picard asked.

"They were assimilated," Riker said quietly. "The entire race."

"Yes. Approximately 3700 years ago."

"So," Picard said, "it's rather unlikely that they ever gave this technology to the Cardassians."

"The possibility is virtually nil," Data replied. "And since the weapon has a tendency to break down there would be no chance of the Cardassians copying a prototype."

"In either case," Seven said, "Species 2901 lived over 50,000 light-years away from Cardassia. The Cardassians couldn't have found any remains of the species, even if the Borg had left it behind."

"What is the likelihood that the Cardassians reproduced this particular technology independently?" Picard asked.

"They do not have the technical sophistication to complete the task," Seven said. "There is more, captain. I've analyzed the power release of the weapon, and using the helium bond decay rate, I have determined it was manufactured two hours before detonation. Meaning the ship had to have been docked previously at a space station before proceeding to the battle."

"The weapon production creates high-level energy fields," Data said, "which could destabilize a warp core."

"Rather convenient that they happened to have it at the battle," Riker said.

"It is a bit odd," Picard admitted.

"Captain," Data said, "this device is a tactically unfit weapon for a battle like the one at the Bajor system, or any space battle. It is the most powerful weapon that can be used in attacking stationary shielded targets, but is impractical against any other type of attack. In short, captain, the most likely event is that this weapon was created to specifically destroy Deep Space 9."

Picard mulled it over. "That doesn't make sense," he finally said. "If the Cardassians had wanted to destroy the station, they could have done it with a series of charges, rather than wasting resources in such a manner."

"Which means," Riker said, "we have a weapon used by a people who don't possess it in a manner that is logistically unsound."

"So it's unlikely the Cardassian destroyed the station," Picard said. He turned his attention to Seven. "Who else has the technology to create such weapons?"

"No one," she replied. "At least no one encountered by the Borg."

Picard hesitated. "The Empire?"

"The Empire, like the Federation," Data said, "believes that molecular bonds with helium is an impossibility. I do not believe they could create such a device."

"Apparently, Deep Space 9 was destroyed by an extinct species," Picard replied gloomily.

"Not extinct," Seven replied. "Assimilated."

"I stand correct-" Picard replied, and then stopped. "The Borg have the technology, don't they?"

"Yes," Seven said. "In fact the collective made several improvements on the weapon, although it is almost never used."

Picard mulled it over. No, that didn't make sense either. The Borg would have no reason to destroy the station. Even if they were capable of thinking in such terms, it wasn't in their interests to encourage them to fight Cardassia. If anything, they would have impersonated the Empire to cause a war between them and the Federation. Still, at the moment, the Borg were their only lead. "Lieutenant," he said. "I'd like a word with you in private."

Seven walked with Picard away from the others. "I apologize for interrupting your social event-" she began.

"What? No, think nothing of it." He wasn't sure how quite to bring this question up. "Seven, the Enterprise is needed here for the war effort. However, I think there may be some answers in the delta quadrant."

"The Imperials fighting the Borg," Seven said, always quick to fill in the blanks.

"At the moment, they're our only lead," Picard said gravely. "And you are our expert on both the Borg, the Empire, and this weapon. But traveling there will be dangerous because of the Borg..."

Seven nodded as she took a deep breath. "Yes, captain. And I must confess that it is... frightening, to contemplate encountering the Borg again in a shuttle or runabout. The thought of assimilation, of losing my individuality and my- feelings..." she became introspective for a moment. "But part of the price I must pay for my position is to do my duty despite my fears." She looked up into his face. "I will do whatever you feel is necessary for the safety of the Enterprise and the Federation, captain. I trust in your judgment."

Picard found his breath slightly taken away by the words. "I'll send Lt. Travis with you," he said. "He's faced the Borg before, and is a fine officer. He'll watch out for you."

"Thank you, captain."

Picard turned back to Riker and Data. "Number One, I'll need a hyperdrive-equipped shuttle or runabout to go to the delta quadrant. Lieutenants of Nine and Travis will be meeting with the Imperials to discuss the Borg situation. See to the details."

"Aye sir," Riker said with a nod and left.

"Lieutenant," he said to Seven, "you'd better get ready, it will be a rather long flight in an uncomfortable craft."

"Yes captain," Seven said, and left.

"Shall I continue the analysis, sir," Data said.

"No, commander," Picard said. "Until we find more about this weapon, I think we'll hold off on DS9. Besides, your review is coming up in a few days," he said with a smile. "I want to see you on top of your game." He noticed Data's frown. "I mean that I want you to be focused on that challenge."

"I shall, sir," Data said. "Though I must confess I will be relieved when this is over. With my duties shared between Commander Riker and Lieutenant of Nine, I find myself unfocused; that I am only supplementing the duties of others rather than performing my own."

"I'm sorry if it made you uncomfortable, Data."

"Not uncomfortable, sir, merely unchallenged."

Picard nodded a little in understanding. "Well, Mr. Data, before too long, I believe you'll have more challenges than you know what to do with."
--------------------------------------------------------------

The Hound's Tooth descended onto the launch pad on Cardassia Prime. A few palms had been greased to allow the landing, but it was probably considered a worthwhile investment, given the size of the bounty. The Trandoshan, Bossk, got out and took care of the minor details that the landing required.

"Outsourcing your assassins, Vader?" Garak said as he watched Bossk through his viewer. "How disappointing. I was hoping you might come in person."
--------------------------------------------------------------

Lord Vader tapped on several of the controls and the door of the newly completed holodeck opened. He analyzed the controls briefly, discerning their meaning. Throughout both of his lives, the Dark Lord of the Sith had possessed a gift with technology, an ability to analyze and understand it on a level no individual could. This was Federation technology, which he would need to learn more about if he was going to pursue his own plan for the future. The Emperor was throwing away the Sith rulebook, so Vader had no problem with doing the same.

It didn't take long for Vader to grasp the underlying theories. A special holographic projection system coupled with forcefields to provide the illusion of substance. He issued a few basic commands, and a light green cube appeared in the air. Vader pushed it about with the Force... it moved as if it were real enough, even bouncing off the wall. A few more commands, and the room became an open field. He picked up a rock; it felt real enough. He tossed it; after a few meters it vanished, but he could still watch its path. A clever optical illusion that would be enough to fool those limited in their perceptions.

Vader continued exploring the possibilities of the technology, and soon he became skilled enough to program without voice commands or touching the panel, just using the power of his mind. Programming with the speed of thought, worlds appeared and disappeared, changing on his whim. He began adding life to them, creatures filling the forests and swamps, people bustling about their non-existent lives. Soon his skill reached a point where it was merely an extension of him.

The Battle of Geonosis played out around him as he lit his lightsaber. While the passing of years may have touched his body, his experience more than compensated, and he quickly waded amongst his holographic enemies, slaughtering them. He was very pleased with this device. A thought, and it was the Jedi Temple... far more challenging, in keeping with the true deftness of his enemies. Still more worlds, still more enemies, and Vader started to feel more alive than he had in years. Mustafar and the Separatists, collapsing before him one by one, helpless.

Vader whirled, saber raised, and froze. There was only one person there with him, unspeaking, unmoving. His lightsaber switched off, and he looked at her. There were a thousand details, but for the Dark Lord, the only one that mattered were her eyes. Wide open, reflecting the pain and sorrow that filled her soul. He wanted to reach out to her face and touch her cheek, but it was impossible. The cheek wasn't real... and neither was his hand, for that matter.

During the incident with Xizor Vader had accepted the undeniable truth that his Dark side abilities were limited by his own emotional weaknesses. He could never fully repair the damage he'd suffered on this world because he couldn't maintain the hate necessary for it. It was a shameful truth, but Vader had learned from this moment before him that denying truths wouldn't change them.

Padme had been telling him the truth. She may have been hopelessly naive to the political realities of the situation, but she hadn't betrayed him. She had cared... the reason she wasn't by his side was because he had driven her away, not Obi-Wan. If he'd only recognized it at the time, then perhaps he wouldn't have...

Vader whirled as the door opened and a young officer walked in. "Sorry for the intrusion my Lord-" but he never finished. Vader's hand was stretched out, and his breath was gone.

"I said I was not to be disturbed!" Vader roared, and a sickening crack sounded as the officer's head was yanked at an odd angle. His body was dropped to the floor and Vader marched over to the panel and drove his lightsaber into it. Sparks issued from it as Mustafar vanished around him, and the Dark Lord of the Sith stormed off.
--------------------------------------------------------------

The shuttlecraft dropped out of hyperspace with a shudder. Seven had been regenerating in her chair, but went to immediate alert status as she examined the controls. "Some kind of dampening field," Travis quickly informed her. "We passed right through it."

"The field is also interfering with our weapons, shields, and communications," Seven said. But sensors were still on line, and they showed a ship... far more powerful than any Federation ship she'd ever seen. "Can you reactivate the hyperdrive?"

"No," Travis said.

There was a hum and a device materialized in the back of the shuttle. Seven accessed internal sensors. "It's a bomb," she said, hands flying over the controls. "Transporter is off line."

"Take the helm," Travis said, getting up. "I'll try to disarm it." Seven switched controls to her and tried putting as much distance between them and the ship as possible, hoping that she could get far enough away to use the hyperdrive. The last thing she heard was the sound of an explosion, then darkness overtook her.

[Sonnenburg]

Part XXIII


Seven's eyes opened and she looked up into an alien face. The alien was smiling... given the last thing she remembered, this was probably not a good smile. "Borg-enhanced physiology," he said with a smile. "Good... very good..."

Seven sat up and saw the two guards with large projectile weapons behind the alien. "Why did you bring me here?" she demanded.

"Aggression, very good," the alien said with approval. "There's a great deal of hatred for the Borg... you will certainly be a crowd-pleaser."

"Why did you bring me here?" Seven asked again with even more menace in her tone.

"To give you a chance to show your prowess to those across the sector," the alien said with a smile. "Welcome to Tsunkatse!"
--------------------------------------------------------------

Night had fallen across Cardassia, making Garak's job much easier. He slipped amongst the shadows towards the hangar where the bounty hunter's ship was docked. He was taking a hell of a risk trying this, but with so many of his supporting personnel killed by the Empire's agents, he didn't have much choice. He could only hope that he'd adequately prepared himself.

Cautiously he pulled out a scanner, strictly passive to avoid giving away his position. No sign of anyone... he slipped it back into his pocket and made his way up to the side of the building, watching.

The stun blast caught him in the back, and Garak pitched forward in the darkness, unconscious before he hit the ground. Bossk came out of his cover, checking for any signs of an ambush, but there were none. As expected the reputation of these alpha quadrant types held up; they were pitifully unprepared. He slipped a pair of binders on the Cardassian; he was worth twice as much alive, since he could have secrets about his organization, or possibly even the Rebels. Bossk didn't care why; their credits still spent the same. He slung Garak over his shoulder and carried him inside the ship, dropping him off in a cell before heading to the cockpit. The sooner he dropped this mark off, the sooner he could get back to civilized space.
--------------------------------------------------------------

The door chimed. "Come," Picard said, still reading over the report from Starfleet Command. It was his second officer, perfectly punctual, he thought. "Mr. Data," he said, looking rather grim. "Please sit down." Data did so; Picard drummed his fingers on the desk. "I just spoke with Starfleet Command regarding your review."

Data nodded slightly. "I infer from your manner that it did not go well, sir."

Picard shook his head. "There is no question that you are capable and ready," he said. "Even the strongest opposition concedes that you would make an exceptional first officer. But right now, in the middle of a war of this magnitude, they-" He cut himself off; it was hard to contain his own anger at this. "They feel that now is not the time to experiment in such a way."

Data nodded, looked down... and then his fist smashed a nearby table. Picard looked at him with horror, almost as much as Data had for himself. Quickly he jerked his head and his eyes flickered; his emotion chip was deactivated. "My apologies, captain," Data said. "I had not anticipated that I would have such an extreme reaction to this news."

"It's..." Picard looked at the remnants of the table. "It's understandable under the circumstances." Data had exceptional self-control; that he could lose it, if only for a moment, only meant he was getting close to his goal of being human.

"'Experiment,'" Data said quietly.

"Data, I'm sorry," Picard said. "This is an injustice, and I promise you, it will be fixed. You will receive the position you have rightfully earned."

"I have waited some time, captain," Data said. "I can wait a little longer."

Picard ran his hand over his head as he thought about what to say, but what was there to say? What words can possibly justify saying "no" to someone who was exceptionally qualified simply because of the nature of what they are? Any words rung hollow. "In the meantime," he said finally, "I suppose we'd better reassign you. At least I can keep my top-notch science officer."

"No," Data said with a shake of his head. "No, I cannot allow that, captain."

Picard's brow wrinkled at the remark. "What do you mean, you cannot allow it?"

"You promoted Lt. of Nine to that post," Data said. "If you were to demote her now, so early in her career and so soon after her appointment, it would reflect negatively upon her record, regardless of the circumstances. I cannot allow that, captain. Seven has confided in me, shown me her trust. She is my friend; what kind of friend would I be to allow my misfortune to harm her own career?"

Picard collapsed back into his chair, looked away, then back at his second officer. "Data, even after all these years you still manage to amaze me. When personally vexing news arrives, your first thought is for others rather than yourself." He shook his head. "You're a very noble individual, Data."

"Thank you, sir," Data said. "With your permission, I will assist the lieutenant in her investigations, though merely as a colleague rather than her superior."

"I'm sure Seven will be grateful for your insights, Data," Picard said. "And if you'd like to discuss the matter, my door's always open to you."

"Thank you, sir." Data got up and left.

Picard looked again at the remains of the table. After all these years, Picard thought, even the most patient of us can reach their limits. He hoped Data wouldn't consider leaving Starfleet after this, though he wouldn't fault him if he did. "And to think," Picard said quietly, "in an age when we need you the most, we'll hardly recognize your existence."
--------------------------------------------------------------

Luke struggled with the controls as the Borg tractor beam pulled him inside. His engines screamed until they died as he struggled helplessly to resist the inevitable. His weapons bounced harmlessly off their shields. There was nothing he could do... nothing he could do... save one thing...

Luke stood inside the cube on a catwalk and looked up at the countless multitudes of drones. "We are the Borg. You will be assimilated. Resistance is futile."

Luke stood his ground. "We are the Borg. You will be assimilated. Resistance is futile."

One drone detached from the group, and they repeated the message. As he- no, she- got closer, Luke could hear her voice over the others. It was the same message, but it became less robotic. "We are the Borg. You will be assimilated. Resistance is futile." And as she approached him, she became less and less like a Borg, until she stood before him, stripped of all of the implants and other horrible things. She had hair red as fire, and green eyes that seemed to drill into him. "Your life as it has been," she said, "is over. From this time forward, you will service... us." And over her shoulder he saw the Emperor, smiling with all the warmth of a Borg himself. But his attention focused on the woman. She smiled and wrapped her arms around him. "Your biological and technological distinctiveness will be added to our own," she said in a breathy voice, her lips inches from his. "Resistance... is futile." She kissed him, and he was powerless in her arms. He was her slave in mind and body.

Luke opened his eyes back on the Rebel base. His body ached; he'd been in a deep meditation that time. Wincing a little, he stood up and headed for the shower to work the knots out.

The Borg again... that was the second time now. Very strange... ever since the run through the wormhole the Rebels hadn't heard a peep from them, yet they seemed to find their way into his Force visions. Still, it was better than the alternative, which usually involved his father. Being kissed by a pretty redhead sure beats fighting in a lightsaber duel with Darth Vader, though this vision didn't seem like a particularly positive one. But it wasn't surrounded by the hopelessness... each time the duel came, there was the feeling of inevitability... the feeling he was about to die.

Maybe it was a mistake to stay cooped up here; maybe he should have gone on that mission with Han and Lando to try and scrounge up some more support for them out here. But he was the senior-most Jedi now, and that meant that he had to find the direction his talents demanded. Simply running out and doing things without rhyme or reason was just busywork. Without a mentor, he needed to find guidance, and his masters had always said that the Force would be there for that. Unfortunately, all he kept seeing was horror and death, and it did little to set his mind at ease.

Luke finished the shower and got dressed. Maybe he'd give Artoo and Threepio a maintenance check; it'd take his mind off things. Then he thought, and he chuckled to himself. Only you, Skywalker, he thought. Only you dream of kissing a beautiful girl, then go spend your time with robots rather than people.
--------------------------------------------------------------

Garak's eyes flickered open, and he looked about his cell. There was the rumble of a deck beneath him, and his hands were still bound. He shook his head and gave a loud, deep sigh. "Pity," he said, "I'd hoped these Imperial bounty hunters wouldn't be so pathetically predictable."
--------------------------------------------------------------

For the second time in two days, Seven awoke after being knocked unconscious. This wasn't good for her; she risked brain damage if it continued, and she valued her mind too highly to tolerate it.

Things had grown completely out of control. The Tsunkatse, she’d learned, was a kind of gladiatorial match, where kidnapped beings were forced to fight for the entertainment of crowds around the area. She'd also learned that Lieutenant Travis was seriously injured by the bomb he was trying to disarm... without medical treatment he would die. The only way he would get it was if Seven agreed to fight in the arena, and there seemed little alternative, though she did try to find one. After the incident with the Equinox, the Doctor had incorporated some of his data files into Seven's long-term memory storage, should he ever need them re-installed or repaired. His basic interactive functions, points of basic medicine, ethical program, linguistics database, were all there in her head, but her efforts to access them all failed to provide her with the medical knowledge to tend to Travis' wounds without the proper equipment. She was left with no choice but to consent to fighting in the arena.

Seven had learned a bit about the sport, although that was using the term loosely. Two beings went into the arena and worked to beat the crap out of one another. In blue matches, like the one she'd just fought, it was merely until one was bested. In red matches, it was a fight to the death. She sat up; her head ached. A Hirogen hunter was sitting nearby. "How could you have lost?" he asked, getting straight to the point. Seven said nothing. "You were stronger, faster, and had better reflexes, and yet your opponent defeated you."

"It is irrelevant," Seven said darkly.

"It won't be in your next match," the Hunter said. "The overseer was quite excited when you were dragged back in here. He's already scheduled you for a red match in a few days." He gave her a few seconds to understand the situation. "Do you want to die?"

"What I want is for Lt. Travis and myself to leave," Seven said. "I find this Tsunkatse to be barbaric."

"Ah, so you lost because your heart wasn't in it."

"I wish to terminate this discussion," Seven said.

"You'll be terminating yourself as well," the Hunter said. Seven said nothing. "And your friend." She looked back at him. "Do you think his medical care will continue after you're dead? That he won't be sent into the arena to die as well?"

Seven took an uneasy breath. "I will do what is necessary when the time comes."

"The time is now," the Hunter said. "You have two important things to learn if you want to win this red match. One is how to use that strength, speed, and agility the Borg have given you effectively in a fight, not this amateur hour filth you tried out there. I have fought in the arena for nineteen years... I can teach you that."

Seven thought it over, but it didn't take long. He was right, what little hand-to-hand combat she'd engaged in had always simply been instinctive... she lacked any formal training. If she was going to win, she'd need to change that. "And the other?"

"That in the arena, you are either hunter, or prey," the Hunter said. "There is no holding back... not unless you want to die. Hunter or prey, Borg, decide."

Seven scoffed. "I will do this distasteful thing, but I will not succumb to some kind of bloodlust."

"Not bloodlust," the Hunter said. "The natural struggle between the strong and the weak. Which would you rather be?" Seven was about to reply when an almost ape-like giant arrived. It growled under its breath, and fighters got out of its way as it passed. "The new champion," the Hunter said to Seven as the hairy creature lumbered past. "He was in a red match as well against the former Pendari Champion. Everyone expected the Wookiee to lose until he tore the Champion’s arm off and strangled him with it."

Seven watched the Wookiee depart. She had to admit a certain fear at the prospect of being locked in a fight with it. "Is that who I will be fighting?" she asked.

"No," the Hunter said. "Not yet, anyway. But eventually, if you survive, you'll have to."

Seven looked between the Hunter and the door the Wookiee had passed through, then left to talk to Travis. He was awake, but didn't look well. "How are you feeling?" she asked.

"They gave me something for the pain," he said. "I'll be fine, eventually." He grabbed her hand. "They told me what you're doing," he said. "Thank you. I owe you my life."

Seven wasn't sure how to respond. "You are welcome, lieutenant."

"How are you doing?" he asked.

"I am still experiencing a headache, but it will pass."

"I meant emotionally," Travis said.

Seven hesitated. "I do not like this. I find the prospect of fighting for the entertainment of others disgusting. It is inhuman, which runs counter to my efforts to better embrace my humanity."

"You're doing what you have to," Travis said. "The captain would do the same in your place."

Seven nodded a little. "But I am afraid that in this case, I must go beyond a boundary I have drawn for myself. I do not wish to do it, but I cannot see an alternative."

"Then perhaps there simply isn't one," Travis said.

"It is possible," Seven said. "But that provides no comfort."

"Well, you..." Travis head lulled a little, and his hand lost his grip on hers; she had to hold onto it to stop it from falling. "...you have to live with yourself."

Seven reflected for a time. "While I was on Voyager, Lieutenant Paris provided me with something called a 'mix tape,' to introduce me to the twentieth century. It contained the musical poetry of the Rolling Stones, Nirvana, Roxette, Pat Benatar, Frank Zappa..." She was quiet. "I find myself recognizing a bit of their philosophy. 'You can't always get what you want. But if you try, you might find, you get what you need.'"

Travis smiled a little. "That does sound like good advice," he said, and then fell asleep. Seven looked at him for a time, then put his hand back on his chest and returned to the Hirogen.

"Teach me," she said. "Teach me to be a hunter."

[Star Empire]

Garek's always been one of those characters I just liked. I'm glad to see you're put him in here (and as something other than a tailor).

[Dalton]

Hahah, I wonder, Chuck, are the Stones still touring the Federation?

[Sonnenburg]

Garek's always been one of those characters I just liked. I'm glad to see you're put him in here (and as something other than a tailor).

Yeah, he's always been one of my favorites too. Since he played a significant portion in SotN and the second trilogy, I figured he should make an appearance here as well.

[Sonnenburg]

Hahah, I wonder, Chuck, are the Stones still touring the Federation?

With their demon rock music? Absolutely not! They're in a mining re-education facility.

[Sonnenburg]

Part XXIV


Major Delric Taar was looking over the flight reports in his new office. Less than a week before the Emperor had assigned the Vendetta –an Executor-class star destroyer– to participate in Grand Admiral Thrawn's anti-Borg campaign, and getting things situated on the new flagship was proving a full time job for everyone, especially with Thrawn himself off on a diplomatic function back at Earth.

One of the squadron leaders stopped by with the latest numbers. "Thank you, captain," Taar said, taking the datapad and putting it on a pile to be looked at later. So many reports... could he even remember the last time he'd been in a cockpit?

"Major," the captain said after a few seconds of silence, "we were wondering if you'd like to watch the Tsunkatse match tonight."

Taar had known about the matches; they'd been a popular bit of local color for months now, and many of the Imperials enjoyed placing bets on the participants. Taar wasn't one of them. "Thank you, captain," Taar said, not looking up from his datapad, "but I'm not really the bloodsport type."

"We thought you might make an exception for this, sir," the captain said with a wry smile. "A very special participant tonight." Taar looked up, his curiosity piqued. "A Borg."

"What?" Taar needed a few seconds to properly cope with what sounded so absurd. "What kind of drone could possibly compete in a gladiatorial game?"

"An ex-drone, apparently," the captain said. "But a Borg all the same. We saw someone mop the floor with her earlier this week, we thought you might want to catch her before someone put her out of her misery."

Taar had to admit he was intrigued at the idea. If nothing else, it was a chance to see the physical augmentation of a drone without being held back by the Collective's will. "Save me a seat, captain," he said.

The captain nodded. "Of course, sir."
--------------------------------------------------------------

Garak got himself into a seated position in the cell on Bossk's ship. He looked around; there was a security sensor in place, but with no crew besides the lone Trandoshan, it was doubtful he was even being watched. Still, Garak was cautious. He carefully untucked the back of his shirt and reached up it, taking a steadying breath.

Bossk may not have been up to Garak's standards but obviously he knew a passing thing about dealing with dangerous people. He'd removed all of Garak's tools, including the ones stitched into the lining of his clothes. Points on that, Garak admitted. But he reached up to his spinal ridge and, trying his best to concentrate despite the pain, pulled a pin out of his flesh. He let out a breath of relief as it was finally clear and maneuvered it around to begin work picking the lock. Soon the binders slid open. He kept his hands there and looked at the next stage of the plan. Yes, he thought, this shouldn’t be a problem.
--------------------------------------------------------------

Seven reeled under the blow. Her teacher wasn’t happy. “You only have hours!” he rebuked her. He charged at her and she blocked, but missed her counterstrike. He punched her in the stomach, then grabbed her shoulders and pulled her up level to his face. “Stop holding back!”

“I’m not!” Seven protested. He shoved her away, and she came up and tried to plant her foot in his face, but he grabbed the ankle and kicked her supporting leg out. She caught herself as she hit the deck and twisted her body, bringing her foot around to catch him on the side of the face. He lost his grip and she arched her back and flipped back onto her feet and punched him solidly in the face. He staggered back and grabbed where the blow had landed, his eye swelling. Seven paused and went to check his injury, and suffered a hard right hook to her jaw for the trouble.

"What do you see when you enter the arena?" he demanded.

"My prey," Seven rumbled.

"What do you do with your prey?"

"Hunt it down and kill it," she said, her words sounding as if they could do the job by themselves.

"Yes," he said, stepping forward and holding a finger up to her face. "Never, ever, feel sorry for it!" He gave her a vicious backhand; she failed to react in time. The Hunter gave a growl of frustration. "You are still holding back!" he barked.

"I am trying," Seven said with a little frustration of her own, touching the sore spot on her face.

"Trying isn't good enough!" the Hunter said. "Trying isn't going to save your life! You have to go all the way, Borg, or you will die, do you understand?!"

"Yes."

"What?!"

"Yes!" The Hunter swung and Seven caught the limb, pivoted, and drove him into the wall. She drew back her fist... and hesitated. The Hirogen's blow lifted her off her feet and deposited her a couple meters away.

"No," he spat, "you don't!" He stormed off.

Seven wiped at her lips and saw the blood. She got to her feet to check on Travis. "Maybe we should rethink this," he said as she came up.

"There's no other option," Seven said. "The overseer will send you in in my place."

Travis was quiet for a while. "You never had formal Starfleet training," he began.

"I am as much an officer as you are," Seven shot back. Her beating had greatly unnerved her.

"Without a doubt," Travis said. "What I was going to say is that there are a couple of things you did miss out on as a result of your lateral move into Starfleet."

"None of it is relevant," Seven said.

"Yes it is," Travis said. "In Starfleet, you have to learn how to be a soldier... and that's something that never happened to you."

"I am skilled in many forms of combat," Seven said. "And my lessons with the Hirogen-"

"That's not what I'm talking about," Travis said. "People have a natural aversion to killing other sentient beings... that's a good thing. But when you're in a hostile situation, you have to be mentally prepared to take the final step... to find the part of you that's willing to take the life of another to preserve your own, or to ensure the success of your mission. Firing a phaser at someone can be hard... killing someone with your bare hands is even harder."

"I am aware of the pragmatism of the situation," Seven said irritably.

"You've learned a great deal about the human ideal," Travis said. "You should feel proud... but you've got to also look at this situation objectively. You are the only person in the Federation who knows about the weapon that destroyed DS9; that means that it is a mission imperative that you stay alive. If that means that you have to kill someone else, then it's not only in your best interest, it's your duty."

"It's my duty to become a murderer?" Seven demanded.

"Is there another way?" Travis said, raising his voice. Seven didn't answer. "Is there another way?!"

"No!" Seven said.

"Then it's your duty, lieutenant! You are bound by oath to preserve your life, even if you have to kill another, do you understand me?!" Seven covered her eyes with her right hand. "Lieutenant-"

"I understand," Seven said, her voice saturated with exhaustion. "But... that doesn't mean I can do it."

Travis patted her on the shoulder. "It won't be easy... what you have to do is find the part of yourself that can do it. As distasteful as it is, find the part of yourself that can kill. That's what you need."

A small sob escaped from Seven's throat. "I can't."

"You have to," Travis said. "Just-"

"If I let it out, can I put it back?"

"What?" Travis said in confusion.

"If I go there, I'm afraid..." Seven's shoulders shook with the tears, then stopped and she straightened up. "But it is what needs to be done," 7 of 9 said, her voice completely devoid of the pain that had saturated it a moment before. "You are correct, lieutenant, I must kill to stay alive... morality is irrelevant."
--------------------------------------------------------------

During the Dominion War, Picard had found himself spending a bit more time with Counselor Troi than he usually did. He had faced many things in his long career, but the brutality of war was starting to get to him in his mature age... instead of being more jaded, he just became more exhausted. With the alpha quadrant descending into full-blown war, he found himself back in that old habit.

"You've been spending a lot of time with Lieutenant of Nine," Troi observed during their latest session.

"Yes," Picard said. He was caught a bit off guard by the remark. He was expecting to talk about Deep Space 9 or the war in general, not his personal relations with his officers.

"Are you attracted to her?" Troi asked.

"No, not at all," he said, then paused. "That sounded too much like an overeager denial," he said. "Don't misconstrue it, I mean that..." He seemed to be grasping for the words.

"Take your time," Troi said, "I'm not here to judge you."

"I've heard the rumor is going around on this," Picard said. "Let's be clear: first off, even if I did, I could never allow myself to do that. I've been trying to get her to open up more to other people. If I then tried to initiate a romantic relationship, well, I'd be taking advantage of her, betraying her trust. But really, I do feel a closeness to her, but not in that sort of way."

"A paternal one?"

"Somewhat," he said. "Deanna, she's the only one who's experienced what I have... being assimilated and then returned."

"You feel she knows what you went through?"

"No, I feel that I know what she's been through," Picard said. "I was very fortunate by comparison... I had family and friends to turn to, people who could help me cope with the violation. But Seven came out of the Collective and had no one. I'm sure Janeway and her crew tried their best, but they didn't understand her, didn't understand what the Borg do to you. Seven needed someone and she had no one." He shook his head. "She lived every day listening to the thoughts of others, and then one day she is cut off from them all, and on every side are people in their social circles, and they just don't understand her. Can you imagine how lonely that must feel? To have so much to offer and have no one trust you?"

Deanna nodded. "This goes back to what happened in the brig, yes?"

Picard looked down and nodded a little. "I'm ashamed of myself," he said quietly.

"We all make mistakes," Deanna said. "But you've worked very, very hard to atone for this, Jean-luc. It's true you weren't there for her then, but you've been there ever since."

"I, of all people, should have known better," Picard said. "I let what she was influence my judgment of her."

"It was wrong," Deanna admitted. "But Seven forgives you... I've seen her, she does look up to you, captain... she respects you, and not just because your her commanding officer."

"And that's part of why I feel as I do," Picard said. "Because I believe that she can be not only a great officer... I believe she can be a great human being. That she can so easily forgive tells me there's a better person than I under all that Borg-induced fear." He paused. "Maybe it is paternal. Maybe I feel like she's my daughter, and I can have her reach beyond my own failings. 'I trust in your judgment.'" He shook his head at the words. "What do you think?"

Troi lounged back. "Well," she said as she mulled it over. "I think you're right, she can become a fine person with guidance. But I think more than that, it's a chance for you to work through some of your own issues with the Borg. If you can heal her, restore her to a healthy young woman, maybe you can heal yourself as well."
--------------------------------------------------------------

The door opened, and the din of the crowd was overpowering. 7 of 9 walked out the entryway into the arena, glancing up at them. They weren't real, of course; the fight was being broadcast all over the sector. But some of the fighters liked to hear the sound of the crowd and the overseer was kind enough to put the cheering multitudes there when it was asked. It wasn't by her request, of course; no one cheered the villain, and there were few villains more despised than a Borg. But it was irrelevant; she would fight because of the logic of the situation, not because of their cheering.

7 of 9 crossed the arena and looked back at her challenger. Unexpectedly, it was the Hunter himself. He must have known... after all, he had been there when the overseer had announced their match, even though she had been unconscious. Yet he had trained her... She quickly analyzed the possibilities. One was that he hoped to discover her weaknesses, but that seemed unlikely. Her techniques had been primitive; if the previous combatant could defeat her, the Hirogen would have had little problem. The other, more likely explanation, was that he simply wished to die, that after nineteen years of gladiatorial combat, he just wanted an end. Irrational, but it provided 7 of 9 an advantage if it proved true.

The Hunter nodded to her from across the arena. "Do what you have to," he told her.

"I intend to," 7 of 9 said.

The buzzer sounded, and the Hunter advanced quickly. His strikes were fast and controlled, but 7 of 9 parried and ducked, striking the sensor on his torso and sending him flying backwards. Even though he was prone, she knew he was agile, and could trip her up if she got too close, so she hung back. He returned to his feet and she stood ready. He rushed at her; she swung around with a reverse crescent. He ducked under it, but she continued her momentum, this time sweeping his legs out. He dropped, and she tried delivering a blow to his chest, but he caught the limb in both hands and drove his feet up, tossing her over his head and across the arena. She drove her foot up into his stomach as he closed in, then pulled his foot out from under him.

The Hunter and 7 of 9 got back to their feet and circled each other warily. He advanced sending two rapid punches that she deflected, but it was all a distraction for the kick that came. Surprisingly, she caught it, and with a half spin forward drove the flat of her hand against the side of his knee, snapping it. She twisted the now broken limb, knowing the pain would be an overwhelming distraction, and punched him with all her strength in the face. He hit the floor and skidded across the arena. 7 of 9 approached cautiously, but he was obviously badly beaten. He coughed. "You... are a true hunter."

7 of 9 towered over him. "No. I am Borg."

"Can you..." he coughed. "Can you finish it?"

7 of 9 raised her foot. "Yes," she said as the simple statement of fact that it was, and crushed his skull.
--------------------------------------------------------------

Things had gone absolutely quiet in the rec center on board the Vendetta. "Sithspawn," someone said under his breath. "She's a Borg all right. As cold as a Wampa's cave, and just as dangerous."

"Let her go against the major," someone said good-naturedly. "Killing Borg's all in a day's work for him." There was some laughter, but Taar was still staring at the hologram.

"Isn't there a Federation shuttle that's supposed to be meeting us?" he asked finally.

There was an officer from the docking bay on hand for the fight. "Yes... we listed them as overdue, actually, a couple days ago."

Taar looked at the hologram some more. "I think we've found them."