True but he could rant dramatically fora few more seconds...
Perhaps he can't become intangible while in the mobile emmiter though, it might fall off.
Unity II: Shadows of the Night, Redux (Complete)
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Sonnenburg
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Sonnenburg
- Official Dave Barry Clone
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- Joined: 2002-11-05 08:35pm
- Location: Gotham City
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Part IX
The Doctor looked over the readings, trying to find the alien that had come aboard Voyager during this fragile time. The entire crew, except for him and Seven, were in stasis, and couldn’t be removed until they’d cleared the nebula. "He must have a cloaking device," he said. "Sensors show no alien life signs and no evidence of a ship." He shook his head. "I've been working on my mobile emitter. I think I'm making progress, but I still can't leave Sickbay. You'll have to try to track him down. Arm yourself and use extreme caution."
The computer spoke; it was garbled and slow. "Warning. Deuterium tank levels are fluctuating beyond acceptable tolerances."
"The computer sounds like it needs a stimulant," the Doctor said dryly, looking things over.
"It has been experiencing relay failures," Seven said. "I have not been performing my maintenance duties." She’d been responsible for running the entire ship for the past three weeks; the alien intruder wasn't helping make her job any easier.
"Do what you have to," the Doctor said, "but keep an eye out for the alien. We have to assume he's up to no good." Seven nodded and went to leave Sickbay. "Seven... are you frightened?"
Seven looked back at him. "I am Borg," she said, and stepped into the hall to get to work.
"Trajis to Seven of Nine," came the alien's voice over the comm system. "That's an unusual name. How did you get it?" Seven ignored him as he continued trying to bait her; he didn’t seem to like it. "Just to prove I'm willing to give you a fair chance, I'll ask you: what would happen if the structural integrity around the warp coils collapsed? You wouldn't have much time to keep them from rupturing." Seven broke into a run and rushed into Engineering. Fortunately nothing was wrong, but there was also no sign of Trajis.
The lights went out. "I couldn't bring myself to destroy your ship," Trajis said. He chuckled a little as Seven walked nervously through Engineering. She looked around carefully at the shadows, her imagination populating them with unpleasant things. She put her hand on her phaser, even though she knew there was nothing there. "I hope you're not afraid of the dark." Seven took a steadying breath, feeling as if the darkness was closing in on her...
--------------------------------------------------------------
Borui entered information into the PADD. "I read about that in your file," she said to Seven. "You ensured Voyager passed through the nebula safely, without any of the crew being killed by the radiation. Captain Janeway submitted it to Starfleet when the question of your commission came up; she said it showed you were capable of great courage and reliability in even the worst situations."
"I... appreciate the captain's remarks," Seven said. "But the truth was that I lied to the Doctor. I was... I was, in fact, very afraid."
"Understandable," Borui said. "Long-term isolation is very difficult to cope with, and when the Doctor went off-line, you were left absolutely alone, with the responsibility of safeguarding the lives of everyone. That's a very heavy burden, but you carried it well." Seven nodded nervously. "How do you feel now, with the Borg becoming more active?"
"I am... I am also afraid," Seven said. "It has been five years since I was freed from the Collective, and in that time I have found many aspects of individuality that are appealing. I fear losing them." The alarm sounded, and Seven seemed almost relieved. "Excuse me," she said, "I have duties." She got up and walked double-time out of the room. Borui took a moment to tap a few more things onto the PADD, shaking her head. Maybe Riker was right, she thought. Maybe those implants did more to her than she'd thought.
--------------------------------------------------------------
The ships were oblivious to his presence, as always. He watched, his curiosity getting the better of him. He'd learned only a little about them so far: they were called the Federation, and their ships were piloted by various groups of alien species. Their technology was above the galactic norm, but still primitive compared to his level. And for some reason they'd decided they were going to fight the Borg. What a strange idea, he thought, as he watched the ships race away, their hulls broken and equipment shattered with the massive cubes in pursuit. Either these Federation types were very dumb, very stubborn, or just plain insane.
Still, that wasn't really his concern, interesting though the Federation was. No, his concern was the Borg. They were on the move once again, and this time they weren't holding back. It was awe-inspiring, like watching an inexplicable act of nature, like the collision of two stars. He smiled a little at the thought; he hadn't seen a stellar collision in at least a thousand years. He observed a few recordings as his mind drifted back, but it wasn't the same. Seeing that the battle was over, he checked a few maps. The real thing was always a lot more fun to see.
--------------------------------------------------------------
Col. Delric Taar stepped into the office of Grand Admiral Thrawn as he had so many times previously. Despite this repetition, it was something that never grew routine for him. The Admiral was many things, but the most central of all was unpredictability. "You have finished your report?" Thrawn asked, his attention not deviating from a sculpture recreated before him. It was a pitch black rendition of a slightly elongated face, with a curling beard and some kind of object coming off its head.
"Wood?" Taar asked.
"Bronze," Thrawn replied. "Specially treated by the artisan to produce this shade. It's a hallmark example of artwork from the Benin Empire on Earth." Thrawn turned his chair towards Taar. "Their cultural influence is relatively non-existent, but the beauty of the work is timeless. What's the condition of the Borg?"
Taar glanced at the notes on his datapad. "Three attacks on our borders, sir, all repelled with limited casualties on our side. There are six more worlds which request our protection; Admiral Nemit is looking at their relative merit."
"What of other attacks?"
"Our scouts report Borg attacks on at least twenty-seven worlds over the past two months, all successful. Several of them are Federation colonies: New Stockholm, Star's End, Yarval... Isn't Yarval the site of the Federation research base?"
"Yes, I believe our spies said they were working on a way of producing hypermatter reactors."
Taar seemed quite surprised. "That can be a serious setback. If they had a working prototype-"
"Colonel," Thrawn said with patience, "we will plan accordingly."
"But-" Taar floundered. "The Borg with-"
"The important thing to remember," Thrawn said patiently, "is the difference between worry and planning; the former is nothing, the latter everything."
Taar nodded. "Of course sir. Getting back to the attacks: we haven't noticed a particular expansion pattern sir, but we do think they are looking to increase their resources and personnel." Through assimilation, Taar thought with disgust.
"That's in keeping with their current activities," Thrawn remarked. "They'll certainly need it for this campaign of theirs."
Taar agreed, although he wished he didn't have to. The Borg's attacks had certainly left him ill at ease for quite some time. "Sir, why do you suppose they've changed?"
Thrawn smiled at Taar a little. "Don't you know?" Taar admitted that he couldn't understand it. "The Borg believe in efficiency first and foremost," Thrawn said. "That much is apparent from their ship design. Interdependency and independence simultaneously to have the best of both. Until now they've been approaching their tasks with a minimal number of resources to maintain efficiency, and that has been adequate. However, for some time now such efforts have failed, and they've been losing large amounts of equipment and personnel; very inefficient. So they've reversed their strategies: they're attacking in large numbers to avoid the loss of ships and manpower that's plagued them. Unfortunately for us, that strategy seems to be working rather well."
"But they haven't invaded our space," Taar pointed out.
Thrawn's smile grew a little larger. "War is more than force of arms."
Yes, Taar thought, that was the advantage of the Empire: strength, determination, and the most advanced tactical minds in the galaxy. Let the Borg come, he thought to himself, it'll be a futile gesture.
--------------------------------------------------------------
Capt. Janeway walked slowly into the brig where a single forcefield remained active. It hadn't been used very often, but it always brought up unpleasant memories. Many hostile aliens and rebellious crew members had been sent here over the years, and once again she'd brought herself here to iron out a situation. "Leave us," she ordered the guard.
"Captain," the Doctor said through the force field as she sat down. "I'd like to apologize for my earlier tone. I was overwhelmed with shock at the situation-"
"Your tone was understandable, if inappropriate," Janeway interrupted. "I had forgotten that, despite your sentience, you are at heart a program created for the sole purpose of preserving life, and this news had no doubt been difficult to come to terms with."
"That's putting it mildly," the Doctor replied. "I'm reminded of the time my ethical program was deleted; that was a bit difficult for my program to adapt to when it was re-installed."
Janeway nodded. "You backed up several key systems in Seven's memory engrams if I recall correctly." Her smile faded. "It's funny that you should bring up the Equinox. My thoughts dwell on Ransom from time to time."
The Doctor took on a tone of sympathy. "There was nothing you could've done to save him."
"It's not that," Janeway replied, "It's his decisions. He became desperate, he resorted to mass murder to try to get his crew home. I looked down on him because of that, but I've come to realize the truth: I'm just like him."
"Captain," the Doctor insisted. "You were nothing like him. You always knew where the line was, and never crossed it."
"I made two severe mistakes," Janeway continued. "And they both involved the Empire."
"Captain, you can't blame yourself for the war. None of us had any way of knowing the Empire was as evil as it was."
"And yet billions are still dead," she replied. "Cardassia Prime is gone. A war that tore the quadrant apart because of my decision."
"And because of that decision," the Doctor said, "Humanity is exploring the galaxy like never before imagined."
"At what cost," she said miserably. "I have a feeling... I can't explain it. But something terrible is about to happen, and it's because of that choice, my foolish behavior in dealing with the Empire. I feel as if there's something I should be doing," she shook her head. "But for the life of me, I can't figure out what it is." She looked away, hand fidgeting about her face as it often did in these situations. "Ransom performed acts of evil for the sake of his crew..." She shook her head. "Down deep, Doctor, in places I hate to admit are there, I know I'd do the same... God help me, but... I wouldn’t stop where he did. Five years in the delta quadrant, watching people I was supposed to protect die one after another... then watching my home torn apart by a war I caused... it changes you... I know it's changed me. I- When I look at the person staring back in my mirror...” She shook her head, and her voice descended into a whisper. “She scares the hell out of me.”
"Captain," the Doctor said as comfortingly as he could, "we all have our emotional limits. It's not something we'd like to admit, but... but it doesn't make us evil. It just makes us the flawed mortals that we are." Janeway didn’t answer, but there was a quiver to her breathing, as if she was already at those limits... as if she’d already passed them and was stranded in a place where no comfort could be found. “Captain?” he said quietly.
Janeway looked down and wrung her hands. "Doctor," she said, her voice pained, "I lied to you earlier. I know how the Borg found out about the nanoprobes." She hesitated. "I gave the knowledge to the Empire." She was quiet, to allow the thought to properly percolate. "I felt responsible for bringing the Borg to their galaxy," she continued. "So I gave them everything we had on the Borg, no matter how trivial. I hoped it would be enough to ensure a victory in the event of a Borg attack." She closed her eyes in shame. "I should've realized that if they were captured, the Borg would assimilate that knowledge."
She stood up and pushed the button next to the entrance, shutting down the forcefield. She opened her mouth to continue when the claxon blared. "Red alert! Captain Janeway to the bridge," the comm called over the din.
"Looks like we'll have to continue this later," the Doctor remarked as they left for the bridge. Regardless of the past, the present was demanding their immediate attention.
--------------------------------------------------------------
Seven was in Science Room 1. When she looked back, there was something somehow appropriate about that, that it was this room of all places when he walked through the door. “Luke?” she said, stunned at his presence.
“Hey, Seven,” he said. “Glad to see you still remember me.”
“I have an eidetic memory; I remember everyone.” Inside she slapped herself. “However, even without it, I would certainly recall you. You were a most memorable individual.”
“Thanks, I think,” he said with a smile.
Seven was uncertain of what to do; she would have expected an appearance by Q before seeing Skywalker again. “I was not informed of your arrival. Is this a Republic matter?”
“It’s a Borg matter,” Luke said. He filled her in on some details of the battle. “Do you know anything about a class-19 Theta torpedo?”
Seven was even more surprised. “Where did you hear about that?”
Luke seemed to flounder a bit. “It’s a little complicated. I do know that it destroyed a Borg ship.”
"Yes, a class-19 is capable of destroying any Borg ship up to the size of a Sphere, but there hasn't been one fired in millennia."
"What is it? What's it do?" Seven began explaining; after half a minute Luke stopped her. "Perhaps I should rephrase. Who would have such a device besides the Borg?"
"The Borg do not have it," Seven stated. "They were never able to properly duplicate the construction. As for who has it, I can't say."
Luke seemed to think it over. “Any idea of what might have happened?”
"Based on your description," Seven replied, "I would surmise that the ship was destroyed by a cloaked vessel."
"Except that your cloaking devices inhibit weapon's fire," Luke said, "and ours leave the targeting sensors blind."
"Yes, clearly it is some unknown individual."
"Are there any Borg enemies you might have forgotten to mention?"
For some reason, the remark stung her. She’d risked her life to save his, and now he was implying she withheld strategically invaluable information? “I have been completely forthright on all matters concerning the Borg,” she said in a stern voice.
Luke seemed taken aback. "I wasn't implyin-"
"I - don't - know!" she said forcefully. Then she reexamined the conversation, and wanted to slap herself again. It was a simple question, but ever since she’d revisited the events at the camp her emotions were harder to control. She was afraid for no reason, she was anxious, she jumped down people’s throats for innocent remarks, like she’d done here. And the fact that he was here again added its own stress to the situation. She was terribly embarrassed, and she couldn’t even bring herself to look at him. Sometimes she could be so foolish!
--------------------------------------------------------------
Luke looked at Seven and felt embarrassed. He’d been kind of happy for the chance to talk with her again... hell, he was rather glad for the excuse when he got down to it. Well, he’d been here all of five minutes and already he’d apparently done something stupid. He should have known that Seven would probably be very sensitive on the subject of the Borg, but he’d lumbered into it like a Bantha. Some Jedi you are, he thought. He could sense sorrow, and uncertainty, even a little bit of fear. He owed it to her to try to make up for this, to try to offer a little comfort. "We all know you're on our side," he said as soothingly as possible. Oddly enough, he felt her fear growing, as well as a sense of loneliness. Finally, she turned towards the door. "I have duties," she said, and rushed out, almost barreling over Han as he came walking into the room. "Don't say anything," Luke remarked as Han opened his mouth.
"Who, me?" Han shrugged as Luke tried to think about what he could do to make up for his mistake.
"Red alert!" the computer voice announced as lights began flashing. "Now what," Han remarked as he stepped over to the display, which lit up with Riker's face. "Captain," Han said.
"I'm afraid you're both going to have to ride with us for right now," Riker said, visibly tense. "There's a Borg fleet, at least twenty ships but probably more, moving into our sector. We've got to rendezvous with the ships in this area to try and stop them."
"What planet are they going to?" Han asked quickly.
"Not a planet," Riker said, "they’re going towards the wormhole."
The Doctor looked over the readings, trying to find the alien that had come aboard Voyager during this fragile time. The entire crew, except for him and Seven, were in stasis, and couldn’t be removed until they’d cleared the nebula. "He must have a cloaking device," he said. "Sensors show no alien life signs and no evidence of a ship." He shook his head. "I've been working on my mobile emitter. I think I'm making progress, but I still can't leave Sickbay. You'll have to try to track him down. Arm yourself and use extreme caution."
The computer spoke; it was garbled and slow. "Warning. Deuterium tank levels are fluctuating beyond acceptable tolerances."
"The computer sounds like it needs a stimulant," the Doctor said dryly, looking things over.
"It has been experiencing relay failures," Seven said. "I have not been performing my maintenance duties." She’d been responsible for running the entire ship for the past three weeks; the alien intruder wasn't helping make her job any easier.
"Do what you have to," the Doctor said, "but keep an eye out for the alien. We have to assume he's up to no good." Seven nodded and went to leave Sickbay. "Seven... are you frightened?"
Seven looked back at him. "I am Borg," she said, and stepped into the hall to get to work.
"Trajis to Seven of Nine," came the alien's voice over the comm system. "That's an unusual name. How did you get it?" Seven ignored him as he continued trying to bait her; he didn’t seem to like it. "Just to prove I'm willing to give you a fair chance, I'll ask you: what would happen if the structural integrity around the warp coils collapsed? You wouldn't have much time to keep them from rupturing." Seven broke into a run and rushed into Engineering. Fortunately nothing was wrong, but there was also no sign of Trajis.
The lights went out. "I couldn't bring myself to destroy your ship," Trajis said. He chuckled a little as Seven walked nervously through Engineering. She looked around carefully at the shadows, her imagination populating them with unpleasant things. She put her hand on her phaser, even though she knew there was nothing there. "I hope you're not afraid of the dark." Seven took a steadying breath, feeling as if the darkness was closing in on her...
--------------------------------------------------------------
Borui entered information into the PADD. "I read about that in your file," she said to Seven. "You ensured Voyager passed through the nebula safely, without any of the crew being killed by the radiation. Captain Janeway submitted it to Starfleet when the question of your commission came up; she said it showed you were capable of great courage and reliability in even the worst situations."
"I... appreciate the captain's remarks," Seven said. "But the truth was that I lied to the Doctor. I was... I was, in fact, very afraid."
"Understandable," Borui said. "Long-term isolation is very difficult to cope with, and when the Doctor went off-line, you were left absolutely alone, with the responsibility of safeguarding the lives of everyone. That's a very heavy burden, but you carried it well." Seven nodded nervously. "How do you feel now, with the Borg becoming more active?"
"I am... I am also afraid," Seven said. "It has been five years since I was freed from the Collective, and in that time I have found many aspects of individuality that are appealing. I fear losing them." The alarm sounded, and Seven seemed almost relieved. "Excuse me," she said, "I have duties." She got up and walked double-time out of the room. Borui took a moment to tap a few more things onto the PADD, shaking her head. Maybe Riker was right, she thought. Maybe those implants did more to her than she'd thought.
--------------------------------------------------------------
The ships were oblivious to his presence, as always. He watched, his curiosity getting the better of him. He'd learned only a little about them so far: they were called the Federation, and their ships were piloted by various groups of alien species. Their technology was above the galactic norm, but still primitive compared to his level. And for some reason they'd decided they were going to fight the Borg. What a strange idea, he thought, as he watched the ships race away, their hulls broken and equipment shattered with the massive cubes in pursuit. Either these Federation types were very dumb, very stubborn, or just plain insane.
Still, that wasn't really his concern, interesting though the Federation was. No, his concern was the Borg. They were on the move once again, and this time they weren't holding back. It was awe-inspiring, like watching an inexplicable act of nature, like the collision of two stars. He smiled a little at the thought; he hadn't seen a stellar collision in at least a thousand years. He observed a few recordings as his mind drifted back, but it wasn't the same. Seeing that the battle was over, he checked a few maps. The real thing was always a lot more fun to see.
--------------------------------------------------------------
Col. Delric Taar stepped into the office of Grand Admiral Thrawn as he had so many times previously. Despite this repetition, it was something that never grew routine for him. The Admiral was many things, but the most central of all was unpredictability. "You have finished your report?" Thrawn asked, his attention not deviating from a sculpture recreated before him. It was a pitch black rendition of a slightly elongated face, with a curling beard and some kind of object coming off its head.
"Wood?" Taar asked.
"Bronze," Thrawn replied. "Specially treated by the artisan to produce this shade. It's a hallmark example of artwork from the Benin Empire on Earth." Thrawn turned his chair towards Taar. "Their cultural influence is relatively non-existent, but the beauty of the work is timeless. What's the condition of the Borg?"
Taar glanced at the notes on his datapad. "Three attacks on our borders, sir, all repelled with limited casualties on our side. There are six more worlds which request our protection; Admiral Nemit is looking at their relative merit."
"What of other attacks?"
"Our scouts report Borg attacks on at least twenty-seven worlds over the past two months, all successful. Several of them are Federation colonies: New Stockholm, Star's End, Yarval... Isn't Yarval the site of the Federation research base?"
"Yes, I believe our spies said they were working on a way of producing hypermatter reactors."
Taar seemed quite surprised. "That can be a serious setback. If they had a working prototype-"
"Colonel," Thrawn said with patience, "we will plan accordingly."
"But-" Taar floundered. "The Borg with-"
"The important thing to remember," Thrawn said patiently, "is the difference between worry and planning; the former is nothing, the latter everything."
Taar nodded. "Of course sir. Getting back to the attacks: we haven't noticed a particular expansion pattern sir, but we do think they are looking to increase their resources and personnel." Through assimilation, Taar thought with disgust.
"That's in keeping with their current activities," Thrawn remarked. "They'll certainly need it for this campaign of theirs."
Taar agreed, although he wished he didn't have to. The Borg's attacks had certainly left him ill at ease for quite some time. "Sir, why do you suppose they've changed?"
Thrawn smiled at Taar a little. "Don't you know?" Taar admitted that he couldn't understand it. "The Borg believe in efficiency first and foremost," Thrawn said. "That much is apparent from their ship design. Interdependency and independence simultaneously to have the best of both. Until now they've been approaching their tasks with a minimal number of resources to maintain efficiency, and that has been adequate. However, for some time now such efforts have failed, and they've been losing large amounts of equipment and personnel; very inefficient. So they've reversed their strategies: they're attacking in large numbers to avoid the loss of ships and manpower that's plagued them. Unfortunately for us, that strategy seems to be working rather well."
"But they haven't invaded our space," Taar pointed out.
Thrawn's smile grew a little larger. "War is more than force of arms."
Yes, Taar thought, that was the advantage of the Empire: strength, determination, and the most advanced tactical minds in the galaxy. Let the Borg come, he thought to himself, it'll be a futile gesture.
--------------------------------------------------------------
Capt. Janeway walked slowly into the brig where a single forcefield remained active. It hadn't been used very often, but it always brought up unpleasant memories. Many hostile aliens and rebellious crew members had been sent here over the years, and once again she'd brought herself here to iron out a situation. "Leave us," she ordered the guard.
"Captain," the Doctor said through the force field as she sat down. "I'd like to apologize for my earlier tone. I was overwhelmed with shock at the situation-"
"Your tone was understandable, if inappropriate," Janeway interrupted. "I had forgotten that, despite your sentience, you are at heart a program created for the sole purpose of preserving life, and this news had no doubt been difficult to come to terms with."
"That's putting it mildly," the Doctor replied. "I'm reminded of the time my ethical program was deleted; that was a bit difficult for my program to adapt to when it was re-installed."
Janeway nodded. "You backed up several key systems in Seven's memory engrams if I recall correctly." Her smile faded. "It's funny that you should bring up the Equinox. My thoughts dwell on Ransom from time to time."
The Doctor took on a tone of sympathy. "There was nothing you could've done to save him."
"It's not that," Janeway replied, "It's his decisions. He became desperate, he resorted to mass murder to try to get his crew home. I looked down on him because of that, but I've come to realize the truth: I'm just like him."
"Captain," the Doctor insisted. "You were nothing like him. You always knew where the line was, and never crossed it."
"I made two severe mistakes," Janeway continued. "And they both involved the Empire."
"Captain, you can't blame yourself for the war. None of us had any way of knowing the Empire was as evil as it was."
"And yet billions are still dead," she replied. "Cardassia Prime is gone. A war that tore the quadrant apart because of my decision."
"And because of that decision," the Doctor said, "Humanity is exploring the galaxy like never before imagined."
"At what cost," she said miserably. "I have a feeling... I can't explain it. But something terrible is about to happen, and it's because of that choice, my foolish behavior in dealing with the Empire. I feel as if there's something I should be doing," she shook her head. "But for the life of me, I can't figure out what it is." She looked away, hand fidgeting about her face as it often did in these situations. "Ransom performed acts of evil for the sake of his crew..." She shook her head. "Down deep, Doctor, in places I hate to admit are there, I know I'd do the same... God help me, but... I wouldn’t stop where he did. Five years in the delta quadrant, watching people I was supposed to protect die one after another... then watching my home torn apart by a war I caused... it changes you... I know it's changed me. I- When I look at the person staring back in my mirror...” She shook her head, and her voice descended into a whisper. “She scares the hell out of me.”
"Captain," the Doctor said as comfortingly as he could, "we all have our emotional limits. It's not something we'd like to admit, but... but it doesn't make us evil. It just makes us the flawed mortals that we are." Janeway didn’t answer, but there was a quiver to her breathing, as if she was already at those limits... as if she’d already passed them and was stranded in a place where no comfort could be found. “Captain?” he said quietly.
Janeway looked down and wrung her hands. "Doctor," she said, her voice pained, "I lied to you earlier. I know how the Borg found out about the nanoprobes." She hesitated. "I gave the knowledge to the Empire." She was quiet, to allow the thought to properly percolate. "I felt responsible for bringing the Borg to their galaxy," she continued. "So I gave them everything we had on the Borg, no matter how trivial. I hoped it would be enough to ensure a victory in the event of a Borg attack." She closed her eyes in shame. "I should've realized that if they were captured, the Borg would assimilate that knowledge."
She stood up and pushed the button next to the entrance, shutting down the forcefield. She opened her mouth to continue when the claxon blared. "Red alert! Captain Janeway to the bridge," the comm called over the din.
"Looks like we'll have to continue this later," the Doctor remarked as they left for the bridge. Regardless of the past, the present was demanding their immediate attention.
--------------------------------------------------------------
Seven was in Science Room 1. When she looked back, there was something somehow appropriate about that, that it was this room of all places when he walked through the door. “Luke?” she said, stunned at his presence.
“Hey, Seven,” he said. “Glad to see you still remember me.”
“I have an eidetic memory; I remember everyone.” Inside she slapped herself. “However, even without it, I would certainly recall you. You were a most memorable individual.”
“Thanks, I think,” he said with a smile.
Seven was uncertain of what to do; she would have expected an appearance by Q before seeing Skywalker again. “I was not informed of your arrival. Is this a Republic matter?”
“It’s a Borg matter,” Luke said. He filled her in on some details of the battle. “Do you know anything about a class-19 Theta torpedo?”
Seven was even more surprised. “Where did you hear about that?”
Luke seemed to flounder a bit. “It’s a little complicated. I do know that it destroyed a Borg ship.”
"Yes, a class-19 is capable of destroying any Borg ship up to the size of a Sphere, but there hasn't been one fired in millennia."
"What is it? What's it do?" Seven began explaining; after half a minute Luke stopped her. "Perhaps I should rephrase. Who would have such a device besides the Borg?"
"The Borg do not have it," Seven stated. "They were never able to properly duplicate the construction. As for who has it, I can't say."
Luke seemed to think it over. “Any idea of what might have happened?”
"Based on your description," Seven replied, "I would surmise that the ship was destroyed by a cloaked vessel."
"Except that your cloaking devices inhibit weapon's fire," Luke said, "and ours leave the targeting sensors blind."
"Yes, clearly it is some unknown individual."
"Are there any Borg enemies you might have forgotten to mention?"
For some reason, the remark stung her. She’d risked her life to save his, and now he was implying she withheld strategically invaluable information? “I have been completely forthright on all matters concerning the Borg,” she said in a stern voice.
Luke seemed taken aback. "I wasn't implyin-"
"I - don't - know!" she said forcefully. Then she reexamined the conversation, and wanted to slap herself again. It was a simple question, but ever since she’d revisited the events at the camp her emotions were harder to control. She was afraid for no reason, she was anxious, she jumped down people’s throats for innocent remarks, like she’d done here. And the fact that he was here again added its own stress to the situation. She was terribly embarrassed, and she couldn’t even bring herself to look at him. Sometimes she could be so foolish!
--------------------------------------------------------------
Luke looked at Seven and felt embarrassed. He’d been kind of happy for the chance to talk with her again... hell, he was rather glad for the excuse when he got down to it. Well, he’d been here all of five minutes and already he’d apparently done something stupid. He should have known that Seven would probably be very sensitive on the subject of the Borg, but he’d lumbered into it like a Bantha. Some Jedi you are, he thought. He could sense sorrow, and uncertainty, even a little bit of fear. He owed it to her to try to make up for this, to try to offer a little comfort. "We all know you're on our side," he said as soothingly as possible. Oddly enough, he felt her fear growing, as well as a sense of loneliness. Finally, she turned towards the door. "I have duties," she said, and rushed out, almost barreling over Han as he came walking into the room. "Don't say anything," Luke remarked as Han opened his mouth.
"Who, me?" Han shrugged as Luke tried to think about what he could do to make up for his mistake.
"Red alert!" the computer voice announced as lights began flashing. "Now what," Han remarked as he stepped over to the display, which lit up with Riker's face. "Captain," Han said.
"I'm afraid you're both going to have to ride with us for right now," Riker said, visibly tense. "There's a Borg fleet, at least twenty ships but probably more, moving into our sector. We've got to rendezvous with the ships in this area to try and stop them."
"What planet are they going to?" Han asked quickly.
"Not a planet," Riker said, "they’re going towards the wormhole."
Chuck
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Part X
Lieutenant Commander Seven of Nine stood at her post at Science Station 1 as they prepared for the horrible moment that was to come. She had faced the Borg time and time again since her escape from the Collective, yet now, there was something that chilled her to the bone. Maybe it was because of her blowing up at Luke, or maybe it was because of the engrams, or maybe she'd just finally realized how much she truly had to lose.
"Fifty-one Cubes approaching out of hyperspace," Lt. Travis said.
"All hands," Riker said, "stand by for engagement." The Borg fleet dropped out of hyperspace; it was a sight nightmares are made of. "Here comes the speech," he said under his breath.
"No," Seven said, so quietly no one heard her. “Not this time.”
The voice came on all channels and all frequencies. It was as chilling as it always was, a litany without emotion. It was the epitome of what the Borg were: cold, unified, and uncompromising. "We are the Borg. You will-"
"-disarm all weapons," Seven said quietly. "You will lower your shields and surrender this station." Riker stared hard at her. "If you attempt to intervene, we will destroy you. Resistance is futile."
"Commander, what the hell is going on?" Riker demanded.
Seven shivered. "Suffice to say I have spoken these words before." She focused; she was a senior officer with a duty to preserve this ship and the Federation, and she would not fall short of perfection. "We may have an advantage, captain. Their sole interest is in the station, we have not been targeted for assimilation, not yet. Hit and run tactics should provide some measure of effectiveness."
Riker stared at her for several seconds. "You heard the commander," he said loudly. "Helm, keep us mobile, Tactical, I want us looking for targets of opportunity. Are we ready?"
"Aye sir," Travis said. "Phasers and shields set to rotating modulations. All torpedo bays are prepped."
Seven watched as the Millennium Falcon and an X-Wing flew past the Enterprise. In a fight like this, every ship mattered, but seeing the tiny fighter brought her apprehension back. He was a Jedi, he had destroyed a Death Star with one of those... but all she could picture was him lying on the floor in her arms, body smoking in the wake of the Emperor's onslaught. As powerful as he was, he wasn't invincible... he was just a human being. She set her jaw; he was fighting in a one-man craft that barely qualified as being shielded. She was on the Federation flagship. If he wasn't afraid, why should she be? The Borg know no fear; that was their advantage. But they also didn't know resolve; and that was her advantage. "Captain," she said. "I recommend concentrating fire solely upon tractor emitters and weapon emplacements."
"You see a weakness?" Riker asked.
"No," Seven said. "But the Borg's primary objective requires both. Regenerating those systems will require a greater devotion of the Borg's resources-"
"-leaving less attention to hit us with," Riker said. "Good thinking. Travis?"
"On it, captain," Travis said.
Riker nodded, watching the Borg Cube on the screen with the fixation of a bitter veteran. "Fire at will."
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"I think we're in trouble," Han remarked to Chewie as he looked at the advancing Borg fleet. Never had he seen so many Borg ships all at once; and he'd thought Yarval was bad? This was insane. "Luke," he said over their private comm, "I don't know what we hope to accomplish here; we're way outgunned."
"I know," Luke replied, his own voice tense. "But the station's sending in all the fighters they have, we can offer some assistance there."
"What good's a fighter going to do against that?"
"That's what we said at Yavin," Luke reminded him.
"Great, let me know if you find a reactor port," Han said. "Just be careful." He killed the comm, looking over at his Wookiee co-pilot. "I've got a bad feeling about this." Chewie barked his agreement. The Falcon twisted around and joined up with a squadron of A-Wings that were heading towards the Cube. It grew larger and larger through the viewport. "A real bad feeling," he mumbled.
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The Cubes approached in groups of five, two in front, three behind. The guns on the surface of the station swiveled around and began firing their deadly green bolts at the Borg ships. The Republic had anticipated a potential attack and made several modifications to these turbolaser batteries. They pounded away at the first approaching Cubes, their deadly energy vaporizing large chunks of the approaching vessels, which continued on and on despite the damage and the obvious threat that these weapons possessed. As various shields failed hundreds of drones were sent flailing out into the vacuum of space, yet still they pushed onwards. One, two, then three of the Cubes began erupting under the sustained bombardment and exploded. But the loss had not been for nothing. The Borg analyzed the turbolaser damage, dissected it, and determined how they had been changed. And then, naturally, they adapted.
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The Enterprise sailed along with a small group of Federation ships towards one of the Cubes. These weapons the Collective was all too familiar with, but they still had enough energy to penetrate their shields. Small green starbursts appeared where the torpedoes hit, vaporizing the targets and tearing pits into the hull of the Cube. After a few minutes the Cube's front was cratered with the remains of these attacks, yet still it continued.
"We're damaging them," Lt. Travis said.
"But not enough," Seven replied from her science station. "The Borg are regenerating even as we attack. Based on current rates, I estimate it will take over three thousand torpedoes to render the Cube inoperable."
"Can we interfere with their regeneration?" Laforge asked.
"No," Seven said, turning her attention to the captain. "But as the battle progresses, it is my theory regeneration will diminish if we can continue to eliminate such targets."
"I agree," Riker said, "it sounds like our best shot. Divert all power to essential systems only. Push the phasers as far as you can; we can't afford to hold back one iota."
The Enterprise continued its assault, but it clearly didn't look good for the Federation. A series of concentrated attacks knocked the shields of the Yellowstone down, leaving it vulnerable for a Borg tractor beam that caught it during that critical moment. A concentrated phaser burst from several ships finally terminated the beam, but the Yellowstone was critically damaged. As she tried to restore her shields, five quick shots were fired from the Cube, knocking the ship this way and that with each impact. The last penetrated the warp core, and the ship exploded. The remaining Federation ships regrouped for another attack.
"Looks like you were right, commander," Riker said. "They have no interest in us, except as an obstacle."
Seven watched the events play out on screen, then looked down at her instruments to help her suppress her growing nervousness. Numbers. Clinical detachment. That's what she needed. "Once the station falls, captain, that will change. We are secondary targets; the Borg consider us a minimal threat."
"Then let's prove 'em wrong," Riker said.
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Luke formed up with a group of X-Wings adopting tactics they'd heard the Imperial TIE fighters were able to find some success with. Individually they didn't cause the slightest damage, but together they could penetrate the shields enough to damage weapons emplacements, tractor beam emitters, and other important targets. As the Cube’s shields fell briefly he let his laser cannons pound away at the ship, crumpling and deforming the metal outcroppings as he struck again and again until his weapons once again stopped against their shields. Forming up with the others, they attempted another attack run.
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Han watched as a handful of Romulan ships fired at one of the Cubes together, adopting some of the tactics used during the Imperial War. As one ship after another was bombarded with Borg fire, they learned that it wasn't enough.
So far the large Mon Calamari Cruisers were doing fairly well, more than a match for any Cube. They let their full broadsides tear into the Cubes, devastating their ships, sometimes tearing whole Cubes in half. But the fact was, the Borg didn't seem to believe in giving up, and the vessel fragments would even continue attacking the fleet despite the fact that the ship looked as if it was beyond repair. What was worse was they seemed to adjust to the new Republic tactics even as they were changed, constantly staying a step ahead of the fleet. Obviously the Borg had assimilated Republic personnel, but this went beyond what Han could have imagined.
One of the Cruisers had been crippled, and Han watched as two Cubes began slicing it to pieces. He fired a few concussion missiles into an open shield vector, but the damage seemed insignificant compared to the sheer size of the Cube. Perhaps the best thing would be to cut out now, while there was still time. But then he remembered, Yarval, and how angry he was at what the Borg had done. Could he live with himself if he turned tail now? His jaw firmly set in place, he turned his ship into formation with a group of B-Wings that were making an attack on another Cube. Maybe, this time, they could make a difference.
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Cube 019 altered course on a new vector, towards what the Borg called spatial grid 118-AA. Tiny vessels, mere meters in length, raced across its surface, trying to penetrate its shields. The combined thoughts of the Borg recognized their attack patterns, analyzed their threat potential and defenses, and considered their course of action. This took less than a second, and a series of beams were fired from the Cube, picking several of the tiny ships off. Like so many gnats, they scattered in all directions. The Cube continued.
The primary target was now below the Cube. The long-range and short-range weapons of the station fired at it, but the damage was irrelevant. The Cube traveled from battery to battery, repeatedly attacking each outcropping until the weapons were destroyed. Two other Cubes joined in at other points, settling into position to eliminate these defenses. By the time it finished eliminating all threats Cube 019 had suffered damage to 64% of the ship, with 42% actually destroyed. It was irrelevant. Instead the Cube began eliminating the shield generators through a series of concentrated ionic pulses. With the full attention of the Borg fleet, the station was left unprotected within minutes. The next would be to ensure the station would not be destroyed. With the shields down, that would be no problem for the Collective.
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Colonel Yutani watched as one system after another began to fail as the charged particles overloaded their circuits and rendered them helpless. The last thing he saw before the screen turned to static was the looming shape of a Cube. "How's the battle going?" he asked the officer at the board.
"Not well sir," he replied grimly. "We've disabled or destroyed nine of their ships but with heavy casualties. Half the fighters are gone and the ones left don't have the power to do any damage. The Romulans have already begun retreat and the Federation has suffered severe losses. Our cruisers are already being overwhelmed by force of numbers."
Yutani thought wearily. "Get me Admiral Cheliss," he said wearily. After a few moments the Sullustan appeared on the screen. "Admiral, we've lost all our defenses," Yutani said quickly, "Do you think you can drive them off?" The admiral replied in his native tongue; Yutani nodded in agreement. "Understood. I suggest you withdraw sir, we'll take care of our duty." The screen went dark, and the colonel walked over to the wall and pulled off a blaster rifle.
"What are we doing sir?" one of the aides asked.
"Order everyone to the escape pods," Col. Yutani said. "We don't have much time." He activated the comm. "Security, rendezvous with me on level 8 section 31C." He turned to his command crew. "We've got to destroy the station."
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Chewie growled at Han as they darted around another Borg tractor beam. It was one after another, with no end in sight and no hope for the defenders of the station. Han had exhausted their supply of missiles and wasn't really accomplishing much when the message came. Despite the fact that he knew it was hopeless, he still didn't like it. "Get the nav computer coordinates for Romulus," Han said as he kept both hands on the controls. Gradually he pulled away from the Cubes and the fighting; as he went he saw the Borg descending on the station like insects on a morsel of food. He muttered a curse at their impotence, and struck the hyperdrive lever with fury when the computer completed the calculation. Once again, the Borg had overcome them.
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Col. Yutani and twenty security volunteers marched through the station towards the fusion reactor control panel. With half the station's equipment fried by the Borg they'd have no choice but to input directly into the control panel. Only another twenty meters, but it felt like a lifetime.
"Sir!" one of the guards yelled as they turned a passage. There they were, at least ten Borg drones between them and the target. The Republic soldiers raised their weapons and fired. One after another was knocked down as they continued their slow walk towards them. As soon as the hall was cleared they raced forward. Yutani sprinted all the way to the panel, skidding to a halt and entering his command codes into the control panel. There's was a low sound, and he saw more drones out of the corner of his eye. He turned and saw them, giants. At least two meters tall with a wide reach; one swung its arm and knocked two of his guards into the walls, their bones crunching under the impact. There were four of them, but the guards' weapons had no effects, and the drones waded right through them. Frantic, Yutani finished the command and entered the lockout code.
"Three minutes until detonation," the computer announced.
Yutani felt himself lifted off his feet and twisted in the air. He was face to face with the drone, its grey face lifeless in appearance. It raised its other arm and two tubules shot out and entered his neck, and he was dropped to the floor. More drones arrived.
"One minute until detonation."
Seven of Seven, Primary Processor of Unimatrix 104, pulled the panel off the wall, injecting its tubules into the circuitry, communicating with the pathways, searching for the program that activated the lockout. After several seconds it was located.
"Cannot terminate detonation sequence without authorization," the computer stated.
"Authorize," said Seven of Seven. "Yutani, Wulf, Colonel, Serial Number 11037. Password Besh-one-seven-seven."
"Authorization confirmed. Detonation sequence aborted."
Seven of Seven turned and stepped over its former blaster rifle and traveled down the corridor with the other drones. Soon enough, this base would be assimilated as well.
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"Captain," Lt. Travis said over the din that was the bridge, "The Admiral is calling for a withdrawal."
Riker remained in his chair, his posture one of sheer determination despite what had been happening. "Ahead full impulse, stand by weapons."
"Sir," Lt. Travis said in disbelief, "The admiral..."
"The admiral's free to leave," Riker shot back. "But those are our people in those escape pods, and I don't plan on leaving them to the Borg’s tender mercies. Engage, keep them distracted."
Travis looked in disbelief at Comm. Laforge, but if the first officer had any doubts, he refused to share them. "Aye sir."
The Enterprise streaked forward, quantum torpedoes blasting at a nearby Cube, their power great enough to partially penetrate their adaptive shielding. A concentrated burst of fire to crumple their shields, Riker thought, show them we mean business. An explosion two hundred meters across erupted from the side of the Cube. "Good," Riker commented, "Now take us around again, evasive pattern beta-three."
The Borg torpedoes pounded on their shields, but the Enterprise continued its assault, uncaring about the punishment the Cube had in store for it. Phasers and torpedoes tore into the structure of the Cube, digging farther and farther. A few Republic and Federation ships joined in the assault, ripping into the Cube.
The ship shook again from an impact. "Shields at 18%," Travis informed him. "Sir, we can't withstand this much longer."
"We stay as long as we can," Riker insisted.
There was yet another explosion, but no report given this time. "Status?" Riker asked, but there was no reply. "Mr. Travis, status." He turned, but Laforge had already stepped around the panel, checking the body.
"He's dead," Laforge said, indicating a piece of the panel protruding from Lt. Travis' skull. He turned to a nearby station. "Re-route tactical to this station." As he stepped the ship rocked with another explosion, knocking Riker off his feet.
"Our shield generators have been overloaded," Seven said. "I am re-routing but it will take several minutes." As if in response the ship was tossed about by the impact of another Borg torpedo, sheering the port nacelle clear off.
"Warning, warp core failure imminent," the computer sounded.
"Stabilize the core," Riker ordered. They'd done all they could, but the time had come. "Set course 181 Mark 20, Warp 12."
"I can't sir," helm replied. "There's not enough power for the jump." Another explosion, and a shower of sparks issued from one of the walls.
Laforge came up to Riker. "We can't stop the breach, the damage is too great." His disappointment was obvious and his next words were heavy. "We have no choice."
Riker looked around the remains of the bridge, but it offered no signs of encouragement. Finally, regretfully, "All hands," he said quietly, "abandon ship."
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Seven took the turbolift down with the rest of the crew, but while they ran towards the escape pods, she checked on the members of her department. It wasn't in the manual, but Seven felt that the same reason she looked to the captain, they needed to be able to look to her, and to leave them would be a breach of trust. Fortunately, they were already either gone or on their way, helping the wounded among them. True they fell short of perfection, but Seven was pleased with them overall. As the last of the science department found its way out, Seven looked one last time into the room; she saw the Borg ship beyond the window. The Enterprise would be assimilated; she knew it.
She ran towards her quarters even as the klaxons sounded, moving upstream against those heading for escape. She had time before the core exploded, and the Borg would wait until the ship was already inside before assimilation began. She rushed into her room and found it, tossed it in the satchel she used on away missions, and rushed back out. She spotted two crewmen. "We must evacuate," she told them. "Come with me."
Seven led the way towards the escape pods, but then the sound came, the low descending pulse she knew could only come from Borg transporters. Three drones appeared, two in front and one behind; they must have detected the warp core and come to prevent the explosion. Seven pulled out her phaser and fired, sending the first down, but watching helplessly as it bounced off the shields of the second. There were cries from the two crewmen as they were grasped, but it was too late. Seven rushed forward but the drone grabbed her arm, and she felt the sting in the side of her neck.
The drone released her as she began to transform. Seven was gasping and groaning as the assimilation progressed. Soon her biological distinctiveness would again service the Collective... soon she would become just like it.
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Luke's X-Wing pulled into a hard turn as the Borg continued firing at him. He fired off a few shots but knew it was hopeless. Most of the fleet had already withdrawn and those few who were left were getting pounded on. Twenty Cubes had already begun assimilating the station, and there was nothing any of them could do about it. The terror of the thousands who were here filled this part of space, but he did his best to ignore it; he was doing all he could, and getting distracted wouldn't help anyone.
He watched as the nacelle was ripped free from the Enterprise, a lump growing in his throat. The Borg were battering the ship around without mercy; of course, since when did the Borg show mercy? He saw the escape pods launch; someone would hopefully pick them up quick, because they were sitting ducks for the Borg.
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Seven stood paralyzed in the Enterprise’s hall, feeling herself changing as she stared at the drone; gray crawling up her neck and across her face. They were going to take everything away. The career she'd strove to build despite her heritage. The friendships, few though they were, that she'd forged. The thoughts that were her own, the feelings that were her own... the chance that one day, maybe he would say those words she’d wanted to hear. But it was all gone, and it was all because of them. She was going to become a drone again, an insignificant part of something else, without the chance to think or feel again. Her breathing was shaky, her eyes wide with fear. "No," she whispered. "I don’t want to."
The drone turned its attention back to her; it did not show surprise, but it must have been unexpected to see the gray skin changing back to its normal flesh tones. It must have been more unexpected that instead of becoming docile, Seven lunged at it like an animal, shoving it into the wall. She screamed incoherently and struck it in the face again and again; even in the arena, she'd never truly used her full strength like this, but it was clear that any and all restraint was gone. In seconds the drone was beaten to a sickening pulp, and Seven stood there, breathing heavily as she watched the body fall. The other began moving towards her, snapping her out of whatever had just happened. The anger turned back to terror and she turned and bolted. She ran to an escape pod; it was empty, but there didn't seem to be anyone else coming, so she launched it. There was acceleration beyond the window, then the blackness of space. She watched as what she had come to think of as home was torn apart by the Borg. The satchel slipped from her trembling hands as the full realization of the events sunk in. What had happened? Why wasn’t she assimilated?
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The drone and the two assimilated crewmen, entered Engineering as the computer continued the countdown to loss of containment. They showed no concern that the ship was seconds from destruction as they careful went to work at the interface panels located throughout the room. As the countdown continued the core dropped through the floor and was ejected out into space. The drones, their task completed, were transported to the Cube, so that the ship formerly known as Enterprise could be consumed.
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Riker's fist pounded the hull of the pod as he watched the detonating warp core, and his ship being pulled towards the Borg Cube to be devoured. "What have I done," he mumbled.
"Captain," Laforge said from his side, "you did what you had to do."
"She was a fine ship," Riker said, refusing to be comforted. "She doesn't deserve this."
"I know, I know. But if she keeps the Borg busy enough for us to escape, she'll have done her duty one last time."
"Captain!" Crewman Horace said suddenly. "Another Cube's approaching sir! Its tractor beam is locking on to the escape pods."
Riker looked out at the ship with complete helplessness. "Well old girl," he remarked quietly, "it looks like your sacrifice was in vain.
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Despair gripped Seven as she saw the Cube coming towards her escape pod. It didn't rush; it was slow, deliberate, and unstoppable. It didn't come threatening, it merely came with inevitability. A pod was grabbed by a tractor beam, and Seven jumped at the sight of it. She looked at the Cube again. It was still coming, as it always had been; for five years deep down she’d known it would be coming, and now it had finally caught up with her.
It was Wolf 359 all over again, except this time fate had placed her on the other side. The deplorable acts that she'd performed there as a drone were now about to be visited upon her. She would be captured, and dragged to the assimilation chamber, possibly by some of the very people she had callously turned into drones. Whatever had gained her the momentary reprieve, the Borg would easily neutralize it. Her pleas for mercy would fall on deaf ears as they stripped away everything she had found again and turned her into one of them. Tears ran down her cheeks as she watched it approach. Her miraculous escape from assimilation had torn down all her emotional defenses, leaving her unable to cope with this horrible sight. "Please," she pleaded under her breath. "Please go away." It continued to grow beyond the window, and she could see the tractor beam emitter pointed at her pod. "GO AWAY!" she screamed.
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Luke fired some proton torpedoes at the emitters, but to no avail; he just didn't have the power to penetrate their shielding alone. He could sense the fear of the Federation crewmen on board the escape pods, powerless to fight, terrified of the fate they knew they would meet when their tiny lifeboats entered that monstrosity. Another beam shot out and snatched a new pod, and Luke's insides felt like they were shrunk to the size of his fist. "Seven," he whispered.
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On board the escape pod, Seven of Nine was gone. Instead little Annika Hansen looked up through the window at the Borg Cube, stretching far beyond her view in every direction. The seven-year old girl was now face to face with the entire Borg Collective. "Annika, run!" called a desperate cry from out of the past. "Run! Hide!!!"
She stood there, trembling, transfixed. There's nowhere to run, if they want you, Annika. There's nowhere to hide, if they want you, Annika. There is nothing you can ever do to stop them, if they want you, Annika. You are small... just a small little girl, standing alone in the dark... powerless to resist. You know it's true. You know it's futile.
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Luke felt Seven scream. It ripped like a chainsaw into him, tearing through the hard-learned lessons of experience, through the words of his master, through his teachings to Leia, through the training of Selvik, and left the core of his emotion exposed like a nerve ending open to the harsh elements. Anger and love and despair and hope and fear and resolve and a thousand other sensations washed through him in that second and his thoughts ran together. Not her. Please don’t let it be her. What have I been doing? I had time. I threw it away. There will never be time again. Why can’t I do something? It’s all because of them. Please. I want to hold you. I’ve been so stupid! I want to keep you safe. Could you forgive me? Oh Seven! Could anyone forgive me? Why do they do this? I’m a Jedi and it means nothing. No more time. Why must these things happen? Don’t go! Why can’t I make them right? What good is being a Jedi? Please don’t hurt her. You’ve hurt so many. I’m sorry. Please not her. No time. You’ll hurt her. Please. It’s what you do. No! And I can’t stop you. Stay away! I can’t save her. I’m sorry! You destroyed her once. Forgive me. You’ll do it again. All chance is lost. I hate you! Please! I hate you!!! Not her! I HATE YOU!!!
His gloved hand shot out without any conscious thought, there was only instinct. The tractor beams died as the Cube flew away across space with a lurch, as if it had been hit by something that couldn't be seen. It struck the Cube that had been tearing apart the Enterprise, and they crumpled together under the impact. Energy erupted from their surface as they twisted end over end across space, fused together under the pressure and heat into a distorted, nightmarish shape.
Luke's breathing was very erratic; short deep breaths at irregular intervals as he tried to get his mind caught up to events. His hands shook as he realized just what had happened. But he- but he had no choice. He couldn't just- What had he done? “Once you start down the dark path,” his master chided him in memory, “forever will it dominate your destiny.”
"Artoo," he said, his voice quivering as he watched the Federation ships swoop through the escape pods, grabbing the occupants with tractor beams and transporters, "plot a course for Romulus." The X-Wing turned and vanished into hyperspace with the rest of the fleet, leaving the Borg alone with their prize.
Lieutenant Commander Seven of Nine stood at her post at Science Station 1 as they prepared for the horrible moment that was to come. She had faced the Borg time and time again since her escape from the Collective, yet now, there was something that chilled her to the bone. Maybe it was because of her blowing up at Luke, or maybe it was because of the engrams, or maybe she'd just finally realized how much she truly had to lose.
"Fifty-one Cubes approaching out of hyperspace," Lt. Travis said.
"All hands," Riker said, "stand by for engagement." The Borg fleet dropped out of hyperspace; it was a sight nightmares are made of. "Here comes the speech," he said under his breath.
"No," Seven said, so quietly no one heard her. “Not this time.”
The voice came on all channels and all frequencies. It was as chilling as it always was, a litany without emotion. It was the epitome of what the Borg were: cold, unified, and uncompromising. "We are the Borg. You will-"
"-disarm all weapons," Seven said quietly. "You will lower your shields and surrender this station." Riker stared hard at her. "If you attempt to intervene, we will destroy you. Resistance is futile."
"Commander, what the hell is going on?" Riker demanded.
Seven shivered. "Suffice to say I have spoken these words before." She focused; she was a senior officer with a duty to preserve this ship and the Federation, and she would not fall short of perfection. "We may have an advantage, captain. Their sole interest is in the station, we have not been targeted for assimilation, not yet. Hit and run tactics should provide some measure of effectiveness."
Riker stared at her for several seconds. "You heard the commander," he said loudly. "Helm, keep us mobile, Tactical, I want us looking for targets of opportunity. Are we ready?"
"Aye sir," Travis said. "Phasers and shields set to rotating modulations. All torpedo bays are prepped."
Seven watched as the Millennium Falcon and an X-Wing flew past the Enterprise. In a fight like this, every ship mattered, but seeing the tiny fighter brought her apprehension back. He was a Jedi, he had destroyed a Death Star with one of those... but all she could picture was him lying on the floor in her arms, body smoking in the wake of the Emperor's onslaught. As powerful as he was, he wasn't invincible... he was just a human being. She set her jaw; he was fighting in a one-man craft that barely qualified as being shielded. She was on the Federation flagship. If he wasn't afraid, why should she be? The Borg know no fear; that was their advantage. But they also didn't know resolve; and that was her advantage. "Captain," she said. "I recommend concentrating fire solely upon tractor emitters and weapon emplacements."
"You see a weakness?" Riker asked.
"No," Seven said. "But the Borg's primary objective requires both. Regenerating those systems will require a greater devotion of the Borg's resources-"
"-leaving less attention to hit us with," Riker said. "Good thinking. Travis?"
"On it, captain," Travis said.
Riker nodded, watching the Borg Cube on the screen with the fixation of a bitter veteran. "Fire at will."
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"I think we're in trouble," Han remarked to Chewie as he looked at the advancing Borg fleet. Never had he seen so many Borg ships all at once; and he'd thought Yarval was bad? This was insane. "Luke," he said over their private comm, "I don't know what we hope to accomplish here; we're way outgunned."
"I know," Luke replied, his own voice tense. "But the station's sending in all the fighters they have, we can offer some assistance there."
"What good's a fighter going to do against that?"
"That's what we said at Yavin," Luke reminded him.
"Great, let me know if you find a reactor port," Han said. "Just be careful." He killed the comm, looking over at his Wookiee co-pilot. "I've got a bad feeling about this." Chewie barked his agreement. The Falcon twisted around and joined up with a squadron of A-Wings that were heading towards the Cube. It grew larger and larger through the viewport. "A real bad feeling," he mumbled.
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The Cubes approached in groups of five, two in front, three behind. The guns on the surface of the station swiveled around and began firing their deadly green bolts at the Borg ships. The Republic had anticipated a potential attack and made several modifications to these turbolaser batteries. They pounded away at the first approaching Cubes, their deadly energy vaporizing large chunks of the approaching vessels, which continued on and on despite the damage and the obvious threat that these weapons possessed. As various shields failed hundreds of drones were sent flailing out into the vacuum of space, yet still they pushed onwards. One, two, then three of the Cubes began erupting under the sustained bombardment and exploded. But the loss had not been for nothing. The Borg analyzed the turbolaser damage, dissected it, and determined how they had been changed. And then, naturally, they adapted.
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The Enterprise sailed along with a small group of Federation ships towards one of the Cubes. These weapons the Collective was all too familiar with, but they still had enough energy to penetrate their shields. Small green starbursts appeared where the torpedoes hit, vaporizing the targets and tearing pits into the hull of the Cube. After a few minutes the Cube's front was cratered with the remains of these attacks, yet still it continued.
"We're damaging them," Lt. Travis said.
"But not enough," Seven replied from her science station. "The Borg are regenerating even as we attack. Based on current rates, I estimate it will take over three thousand torpedoes to render the Cube inoperable."
"Can we interfere with their regeneration?" Laforge asked.
"No," Seven said, turning her attention to the captain. "But as the battle progresses, it is my theory regeneration will diminish if we can continue to eliminate such targets."
"I agree," Riker said, "it sounds like our best shot. Divert all power to essential systems only. Push the phasers as far as you can; we can't afford to hold back one iota."
The Enterprise continued its assault, but it clearly didn't look good for the Federation. A series of concentrated attacks knocked the shields of the Yellowstone down, leaving it vulnerable for a Borg tractor beam that caught it during that critical moment. A concentrated phaser burst from several ships finally terminated the beam, but the Yellowstone was critically damaged. As she tried to restore her shields, five quick shots were fired from the Cube, knocking the ship this way and that with each impact. The last penetrated the warp core, and the ship exploded. The remaining Federation ships regrouped for another attack.
"Looks like you were right, commander," Riker said. "They have no interest in us, except as an obstacle."
Seven watched the events play out on screen, then looked down at her instruments to help her suppress her growing nervousness. Numbers. Clinical detachment. That's what she needed. "Once the station falls, captain, that will change. We are secondary targets; the Borg consider us a minimal threat."
"Then let's prove 'em wrong," Riker said.
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Luke formed up with a group of X-Wings adopting tactics they'd heard the Imperial TIE fighters were able to find some success with. Individually they didn't cause the slightest damage, but together they could penetrate the shields enough to damage weapons emplacements, tractor beam emitters, and other important targets. As the Cube’s shields fell briefly he let his laser cannons pound away at the ship, crumpling and deforming the metal outcroppings as he struck again and again until his weapons once again stopped against their shields. Forming up with the others, they attempted another attack run.
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Han watched as a handful of Romulan ships fired at one of the Cubes together, adopting some of the tactics used during the Imperial War. As one ship after another was bombarded with Borg fire, they learned that it wasn't enough.
So far the large Mon Calamari Cruisers were doing fairly well, more than a match for any Cube. They let their full broadsides tear into the Cubes, devastating their ships, sometimes tearing whole Cubes in half. But the fact was, the Borg didn't seem to believe in giving up, and the vessel fragments would even continue attacking the fleet despite the fact that the ship looked as if it was beyond repair. What was worse was they seemed to adjust to the new Republic tactics even as they were changed, constantly staying a step ahead of the fleet. Obviously the Borg had assimilated Republic personnel, but this went beyond what Han could have imagined.
One of the Cruisers had been crippled, and Han watched as two Cubes began slicing it to pieces. He fired a few concussion missiles into an open shield vector, but the damage seemed insignificant compared to the sheer size of the Cube. Perhaps the best thing would be to cut out now, while there was still time. But then he remembered, Yarval, and how angry he was at what the Borg had done. Could he live with himself if he turned tail now? His jaw firmly set in place, he turned his ship into formation with a group of B-Wings that were making an attack on another Cube. Maybe, this time, they could make a difference.
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Cube 019 altered course on a new vector, towards what the Borg called spatial grid 118-AA. Tiny vessels, mere meters in length, raced across its surface, trying to penetrate its shields. The combined thoughts of the Borg recognized their attack patterns, analyzed their threat potential and defenses, and considered their course of action. This took less than a second, and a series of beams were fired from the Cube, picking several of the tiny ships off. Like so many gnats, they scattered in all directions. The Cube continued.
The primary target was now below the Cube. The long-range and short-range weapons of the station fired at it, but the damage was irrelevant. The Cube traveled from battery to battery, repeatedly attacking each outcropping until the weapons were destroyed. Two other Cubes joined in at other points, settling into position to eliminate these defenses. By the time it finished eliminating all threats Cube 019 had suffered damage to 64% of the ship, with 42% actually destroyed. It was irrelevant. Instead the Cube began eliminating the shield generators through a series of concentrated ionic pulses. With the full attention of the Borg fleet, the station was left unprotected within minutes. The next would be to ensure the station would not be destroyed. With the shields down, that would be no problem for the Collective.
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Colonel Yutani watched as one system after another began to fail as the charged particles overloaded their circuits and rendered them helpless. The last thing he saw before the screen turned to static was the looming shape of a Cube. "How's the battle going?" he asked the officer at the board.
"Not well sir," he replied grimly. "We've disabled or destroyed nine of their ships but with heavy casualties. Half the fighters are gone and the ones left don't have the power to do any damage. The Romulans have already begun retreat and the Federation has suffered severe losses. Our cruisers are already being overwhelmed by force of numbers."
Yutani thought wearily. "Get me Admiral Cheliss," he said wearily. After a few moments the Sullustan appeared on the screen. "Admiral, we've lost all our defenses," Yutani said quickly, "Do you think you can drive them off?" The admiral replied in his native tongue; Yutani nodded in agreement. "Understood. I suggest you withdraw sir, we'll take care of our duty." The screen went dark, and the colonel walked over to the wall and pulled off a blaster rifle.
"What are we doing sir?" one of the aides asked.
"Order everyone to the escape pods," Col. Yutani said. "We don't have much time." He activated the comm. "Security, rendezvous with me on level 8 section 31C." He turned to his command crew. "We've got to destroy the station."
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Chewie growled at Han as they darted around another Borg tractor beam. It was one after another, with no end in sight and no hope for the defenders of the station. Han had exhausted their supply of missiles and wasn't really accomplishing much when the message came. Despite the fact that he knew it was hopeless, he still didn't like it. "Get the nav computer coordinates for Romulus," Han said as he kept both hands on the controls. Gradually he pulled away from the Cubes and the fighting; as he went he saw the Borg descending on the station like insects on a morsel of food. He muttered a curse at their impotence, and struck the hyperdrive lever with fury when the computer completed the calculation. Once again, the Borg had overcome them.
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Col. Yutani and twenty security volunteers marched through the station towards the fusion reactor control panel. With half the station's equipment fried by the Borg they'd have no choice but to input directly into the control panel. Only another twenty meters, but it felt like a lifetime.
"Sir!" one of the guards yelled as they turned a passage. There they were, at least ten Borg drones between them and the target. The Republic soldiers raised their weapons and fired. One after another was knocked down as they continued their slow walk towards them. As soon as the hall was cleared they raced forward. Yutani sprinted all the way to the panel, skidding to a halt and entering his command codes into the control panel. There's was a low sound, and he saw more drones out of the corner of his eye. He turned and saw them, giants. At least two meters tall with a wide reach; one swung its arm and knocked two of his guards into the walls, their bones crunching under the impact. There were four of them, but the guards' weapons had no effects, and the drones waded right through them. Frantic, Yutani finished the command and entered the lockout code.
"Three minutes until detonation," the computer announced.
Yutani felt himself lifted off his feet and twisted in the air. He was face to face with the drone, its grey face lifeless in appearance. It raised its other arm and two tubules shot out and entered his neck, and he was dropped to the floor. More drones arrived.
"One minute until detonation."
Seven of Seven, Primary Processor of Unimatrix 104, pulled the panel off the wall, injecting its tubules into the circuitry, communicating with the pathways, searching for the program that activated the lockout. After several seconds it was located.
"Cannot terminate detonation sequence without authorization," the computer stated.
"Authorize," said Seven of Seven. "Yutani, Wulf, Colonel, Serial Number 11037. Password Besh-one-seven-seven."
"Authorization confirmed. Detonation sequence aborted."
Seven of Seven turned and stepped over its former blaster rifle and traveled down the corridor with the other drones. Soon enough, this base would be assimilated as well.
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"Captain," Lt. Travis said over the din that was the bridge, "The Admiral is calling for a withdrawal."
Riker remained in his chair, his posture one of sheer determination despite what had been happening. "Ahead full impulse, stand by weapons."
"Sir," Lt. Travis said in disbelief, "The admiral..."
"The admiral's free to leave," Riker shot back. "But those are our people in those escape pods, and I don't plan on leaving them to the Borg’s tender mercies. Engage, keep them distracted."
Travis looked in disbelief at Comm. Laforge, but if the first officer had any doubts, he refused to share them. "Aye sir."
The Enterprise streaked forward, quantum torpedoes blasting at a nearby Cube, their power great enough to partially penetrate their adaptive shielding. A concentrated burst of fire to crumple their shields, Riker thought, show them we mean business. An explosion two hundred meters across erupted from the side of the Cube. "Good," Riker commented, "Now take us around again, evasive pattern beta-three."
The Borg torpedoes pounded on their shields, but the Enterprise continued its assault, uncaring about the punishment the Cube had in store for it. Phasers and torpedoes tore into the structure of the Cube, digging farther and farther. A few Republic and Federation ships joined in the assault, ripping into the Cube.
The ship shook again from an impact. "Shields at 18%," Travis informed him. "Sir, we can't withstand this much longer."
"We stay as long as we can," Riker insisted.
There was yet another explosion, but no report given this time. "Status?" Riker asked, but there was no reply. "Mr. Travis, status." He turned, but Laforge had already stepped around the panel, checking the body.
"He's dead," Laforge said, indicating a piece of the panel protruding from Lt. Travis' skull. He turned to a nearby station. "Re-route tactical to this station." As he stepped the ship rocked with another explosion, knocking Riker off his feet.
"Our shield generators have been overloaded," Seven said. "I am re-routing but it will take several minutes." As if in response the ship was tossed about by the impact of another Borg torpedo, sheering the port nacelle clear off.
"Warning, warp core failure imminent," the computer sounded.
"Stabilize the core," Riker ordered. They'd done all they could, but the time had come. "Set course 181 Mark 20, Warp 12."
"I can't sir," helm replied. "There's not enough power for the jump." Another explosion, and a shower of sparks issued from one of the walls.
Laforge came up to Riker. "We can't stop the breach, the damage is too great." His disappointment was obvious and his next words were heavy. "We have no choice."
Riker looked around the remains of the bridge, but it offered no signs of encouragement. Finally, regretfully, "All hands," he said quietly, "abandon ship."
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Seven took the turbolift down with the rest of the crew, but while they ran towards the escape pods, she checked on the members of her department. It wasn't in the manual, but Seven felt that the same reason she looked to the captain, they needed to be able to look to her, and to leave them would be a breach of trust. Fortunately, they were already either gone or on their way, helping the wounded among them. True they fell short of perfection, but Seven was pleased with them overall. As the last of the science department found its way out, Seven looked one last time into the room; she saw the Borg ship beyond the window. The Enterprise would be assimilated; she knew it.
She ran towards her quarters even as the klaxons sounded, moving upstream against those heading for escape. She had time before the core exploded, and the Borg would wait until the ship was already inside before assimilation began. She rushed into her room and found it, tossed it in the satchel she used on away missions, and rushed back out. She spotted two crewmen. "We must evacuate," she told them. "Come with me."
Seven led the way towards the escape pods, but then the sound came, the low descending pulse she knew could only come from Borg transporters. Three drones appeared, two in front and one behind; they must have detected the warp core and come to prevent the explosion. Seven pulled out her phaser and fired, sending the first down, but watching helplessly as it bounced off the shields of the second. There were cries from the two crewmen as they were grasped, but it was too late. Seven rushed forward but the drone grabbed her arm, and she felt the sting in the side of her neck.
The drone released her as she began to transform. Seven was gasping and groaning as the assimilation progressed. Soon her biological distinctiveness would again service the Collective... soon she would become just like it.
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Luke's X-Wing pulled into a hard turn as the Borg continued firing at him. He fired off a few shots but knew it was hopeless. Most of the fleet had already withdrawn and those few who were left were getting pounded on. Twenty Cubes had already begun assimilating the station, and there was nothing any of them could do about it. The terror of the thousands who were here filled this part of space, but he did his best to ignore it; he was doing all he could, and getting distracted wouldn't help anyone.
He watched as the nacelle was ripped free from the Enterprise, a lump growing in his throat. The Borg were battering the ship around without mercy; of course, since when did the Borg show mercy? He saw the escape pods launch; someone would hopefully pick them up quick, because they were sitting ducks for the Borg.
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Seven stood paralyzed in the Enterprise’s hall, feeling herself changing as she stared at the drone; gray crawling up her neck and across her face. They were going to take everything away. The career she'd strove to build despite her heritage. The friendships, few though they were, that she'd forged. The thoughts that were her own, the feelings that were her own... the chance that one day, maybe he would say those words she’d wanted to hear. But it was all gone, and it was all because of them. She was going to become a drone again, an insignificant part of something else, without the chance to think or feel again. Her breathing was shaky, her eyes wide with fear. "No," she whispered. "I don’t want to."
The drone turned its attention back to her; it did not show surprise, but it must have been unexpected to see the gray skin changing back to its normal flesh tones. It must have been more unexpected that instead of becoming docile, Seven lunged at it like an animal, shoving it into the wall. She screamed incoherently and struck it in the face again and again; even in the arena, she'd never truly used her full strength like this, but it was clear that any and all restraint was gone. In seconds the drone was beaten to a sickening pulp, and Seven stood there, breathing heavily as she watched the body fall. The other began moving towards her, snapping her out of whatever had just happened. The anger turned back to terror and she turned and bolted. She ran to an escape pod; it was empty, but there didn't seem to be anyone else coming, so she launched it. There was acceleration beyond the window, then the blackness of space. She watched as what she had come to think of as home was torn apart by the Borg. The satchel slipped from her trembling hands as the full realization of the events sunk in. What had happened? Why wasn’t she assimilated?
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The drone and the two assimilated crewmen, entered Engineering as the computer continued the countdown to loss of containment. They showed no concern that the ship was seconds from destruction as they careful went to work at the interface panels located throughout the room. As the countdown continued the core dropped through the floor and was ejected out into space. The drones, their task completed, were transported to the Cube, so that the ship formerly known as Enterprise could be consumed.
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Riker's fist pounded the hull of the pod as he watched the detonating warp core, and his ship being pulled towards the Borg Cube to be devoured. "What have I done," he mumbled.
"Captain," Laforge said from his side, "you did what you had to do."
"She was a fine ship," Riker said, refusing to be comforted. "She doesn't deserve this."
"I know, I know. But if she keeps the Borg busy enough for us to escape, she'll have done her duty one last time."
"Captain!" Crewman Horace said suddenly. "Another Cube's approaching sir! Its tractor beam is locking on to the escape pods."
Riker looked out at the ship with complete helplessness. "Well old girl," he remarked quietly, "it looks like your sacrifice was in vain.
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Despair gripped Seven as she saw the Cube coming towards her escape pod. It didn't rush; it was slow, deliberate, and unstoppable. It didn't come threatening, it merely came with inevitability. A pod was grabbed by a tractor beam, and Seven jumped at the sight of it. She looked at the Cube again. It was still coming, as it always had been; for five years deep down she’d known it would be coming, and now it had finally caught up with her.
It was Wolf 359 all over again, except this time fate had placed her on the other side. The deplorable acts that she'd performed there as a drone were now about to be visited upon her. She would be captured, and dragged to the assimilation chamber, possibly by some of the very people she had callously turned into drones. Whatever had gained her the momentary reprieve, the Borg would easily neutralize it. Her pleas for mercy would fall on deaf ears as they stripped away everything she had found again and turned her into one of them. Tears ran down her cheeks as she watched it approach. Her miraculous escape from assimilation had torn down all her emotional defenses, leaving her unable to cope with this horrible sight. "Please," she pleaded under her breath. "Please go away." It continued to grow beyond the window, and she could see the tractor beam emitter pointed at her pod. "GO AWAY!" she screamed.
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Luke fired some proton torpedoes at the emitters, but to no avail; he just didn't have the power to penetrate their shielding alone. He could sense the fear of the Federation crewmen on board the escape pods, powerless to fight, terrified of the fate they knew they would meet when their tiny lifeboats entered that monstrosity. Another beam shot out and snatched a new pod, and Luke's insides felt like they were shrunk to the size of his fist. "Seven," he whispered.
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On board the escape pod, Seven of Nine was gone. Instead little Annika Hansen looked up through the window at the Borg Cube, stretching far beyond her view in every direction. The seven-year old girl was now face to face with the entire Borg Collective. "Annika, run!" called a desperate cry from out of the past. "Run! Hide!!!"
She stood there, trembling, transfixed. There's nowhere to run, if they want you, Annika. There's nowhere to hide, if they want you, Annika. There is nothing you can ever do to stop them, if they want you, Annika. You are small... just a small little girl, standing alone in the dark... powerless to resist. You know it's true. You know it's futile.
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Luke felt Seven scream. It ripped like a chainsaw into him, tearing through the hard-learned lessons of experience, through the words of his master, through his teachings to Leia, through the training of Selvik, and left the core of his emotion exposed like a nerve ending open to the harsh elements. Anger and love and despair and hope and fear and resolve and a thousand other sensations washed through him in that second and his thoughts ran together. Not her. Please don’t let it be her. What have I been doing? I had time. I threw it away. There will never be time again. Why can’t I do something? It’s all because of them. Please. I want to hold you. I’ve been so stupid! I want to keep you safe. Could you forgive me? Oh Seven! Could anyone forgive me? Why do they do this? I’m a Jedi and it means nothing. No more time. Why must these things happen? Don’t go! Why can’t I make them right? What good is being a Jedi? Please don’t hurt her. You’ve hurt so many. I’m sorry. Please not her. No time. You’ll hurt her. Please. It’s what you do. No! And I can’t stop you. Stay away! I can’t save her. I’m sorry! You destroyed her once. Forgive me. You’ll do it again. All chance is lost. I hate you! Please! I hate you!!! Not her! I HATE YOU!!!
His gloved hand shot out without any conscious thought, there was only instinct. The tractor beams died as the Cube flew away across space with a lurch, as if it had been hit by something that couldn't be seen. It struck the Cube that had been tearing apart the Enterprise, and they crumpled together under the impact. Energy erupted from their surface as they twisted end over end across space, fused together under the pressure and heat into a distorted, nightmarish shape.
Luke's breathing was very erratic; short deep breaths at irregular intervals as he tried to get his mind caught up to events. His hands shook as he realized just what had happened. But he- but he had no choice. He couldn't just- What had he done? “Once you start down the dark path,” his master chided him in memory, “forever will it dominate your destiny.”
"Artoo," he said, his voice quivering as he watched the Federation ships swoop through the escape pods, grabbing the occupants with tractor beams and transporters, "plot a course for Romulus." The X-Wing turned and vanished into hyperspace with the rest of the fleet, leaving the Borg alone with their prize.
Chuck
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Crazedwraith
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Very nice. Though I note there's no "First Contact" speech going on this time through. Which is a pity. I liked the speech but I suppose it doesn't really fit Riker's Character.
Last edited by Crazedwraith on 2006-04-10 01:41pm, edited 1 time in total.
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Daltonator
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Ghost Rider
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Indeed. Once you start down the dark path, forever will it dominate your destiny. Ah, Skywalkers and chicks. 
MM /CF/WG/BOTM/JL/Original Warsie/ACPATHNTDWATGODW FOREVER!!
Sometimes we can choose the path we follow. Sometimes our choices are made for us. And sometimes we have no choice at all
Saying and doing are chocolate and concrete
Sometimes we can choose the path we follow. Sometimes our choices are made for us. And sometimes we have no choice at all
Saying and doing are chocolate and concrete
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Sonnenburg
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It was very hard to pull it, but honestly, I couldn't even find a good rationalization to keep it. When all was said and done, it's not Riker's character. He understands the Borg, he hates the Borg, but it's not personal... which, of course, is what made me realize what a dickhead I was the first time. I made it personal for someone who wasn't, and for someone who clearly was (Seven) I referred to them "off camera." And unfortunately, it didn't fit her relationship either. Seven has a love/hate relationship with the Borg, a kind of opposite one she has with Luke (with him, inside she yearns for him but outside she pushes him away; with the Borg, outside she is almost proud of her Borg heritage, but inside she is terrified of them). In the end, the words only fit Picard alone; he alone has met the Borg in such a way that he has a deep personal hate.Crazedwraith wrote:Very nice. Though I note there's no "First Contact" speech going on this time through. Which is a pity. I liked the speech but I suppose it doesn't really fit Riker's Character.
Chuck
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Sonnenburg
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Thanks. Yeah, it was supposed to be a build-up to understand how he could make that mistake, that it wasn't just him making a bad choice, but that the forces inside him were pushing him around so that in the end he couldn't help himself.Daltonator wrote:Good. I like Luke's stream of consciousness. Very much an analogue of Seven's, and he also reminds me of his father, who fell to the Dark Side for similar reasons.
Chuck
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Sonnenburg
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I just wanna say that I so frickin' called it! Six years ago, I had it! Boo-yah!Ghost Rider wrote:Indeed. Once you start down the dark path, forever will it dominate your destiny. Ah, Skywalkers and chicks.
Of course, I totally boned the Naboo BDZ guess. But I did call the color of Mara's lightsaber right...
Chuck
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Sonnenburg
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Part XI
Luke ran through the jungle, the load on his back feelingly amazingly light, considering he was carrying a Jedi master. He climbed up the tree and grabbed onto the vine, swinging with it to continue his run. As he went, the words of encouragement from his master filled his ears. "Run! Yes. A Jedi's strength flows from the Force. But beware of the dark side. Anger, fear, aggression. The Dark side of the Force are they. Easily they flow, quick to join you in a fight. If once you start down the dark path, forever will it dominate your destiny, consume you it will, as it did Obi-Wan's apprentice."
Luke stopped as he heard mention of the man, the one who'd killed his father. But, but he was his father wasn't he? He listened as his voice spoke despite his thoughts. "Vader. Is the dark side stronger?"
Quickly his master spoke, emphatic to impress the point upon his pupil. "No! No, no.... Quicker, easier, more seductive."
Luke thought on his words, and the dilemmas they presented. "But how am I to know the good side from the bad?"
"You will know," his master insisted. "When you are calm, at peace. Passive. A Jedi uses the Force for knowledge and defense - never for attack."
"But tell me why I can't-"
"No, no, there is no why," Yoda insisted with a heavy sigh.
Luke walked over and sat on a fallen log. This isn't right, he thought to himself. I'm not in training, I'm... somewhere else.
"Troubled are you," Yoda said, drawing Luke's attention back to himself. "Worse, things are. The evil, growing it is."
Through the haze of his mind, it started coming back to him. "The evil... yes... the Borg. I was- I was fighting the Borg."
"Mm" his master replied. "Failed you did."
Luke nodded wearily. "They were too strong for us. We couldn't stop them."
"No!" Yoda interrupted before Luke could continue. "You failed; a Jedi you were not!"
Luke looked away with shame. "I don't know what happened. I didn't even think and I was doing it."
Yoda nodded, but his look showed his disapproval. "Heard my words you did, but listen, hmph, you did not."
"I don't understand!" Luke said jumping to his feet and pacing in the clearing. "I've never been able to do anything like that. I tossed a ship the size of a small space station with just a thought. How is that possible?"
Yoda sighed. "The Dark side," he said, shaking his head. "Told you I did, quick to come to you in a fight. Quick to prey on your anger, your fear."
Luke turned to his diminutive master. "But you told me the Dark side isn't stronger! Was that true, or is this another of those 'point of view' explanations?"
Yoda furrowed his brow and made a face at him. "No," he said with patience. "Quicker, easier. Have you forgotten all I have taught you?"
Luke got down on his knee in front of his master. "I saved them," he insisted. "I saved Seven. How can what I did have been wrong?"
Yoda sighed again. "Hear you nothing that I say? Once you start down the dark path, forever will it dominate your destiny! You still fail to see!” Yoda shook his head sadly. “So afraid to lose her... you make the same mistakes your father did."
Luke stood up and turned away. "My father has nothing to do with this."
"No," Yoda replied. "He has everything to do with this."
Luke turned back to him. "What do you mean?"
"All too soon, will you have learned."
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News like Wormhole Base does not stay quiet for long, and so there was little surprise that the alpha quadrant was up in arms about the new situation. The overwhelming victory of the Borg over a combined Federation-Romulan-New Republic fleet didn't exactly stir feelings of confidence among those who'd always thought that the Borg was someone else's problem. Now apparently the collective had turned their full attention on them.
For William T. Riker, former commander of the USS Enterprise, he had paid a particularly strong price. Just how great it would be was just now being determined. He rose as the panel re-entered the room to make their final decision, and to find out what would become his fate.
"Captain Riker," said Admiral Parks, "Let me first say that I find your actions completely irresponsible. The Enterprise was more than just a ship, it was a symbol of what the Federation was. Your reckless disregard of the tactical situation caused not only the destruction of your ship, but very nearly resulted in the loss of lives of your entire crew. You took an irresponsible gamble. Have you anything to say on your behalf before we make our decision?"
Riker held his head high. The decision had already been made, there was no point in dragging this out. "No, sir."
Parks looked at the other members of the panel and continued. "Captain William Thomas Riker, we find you guilty of recklessness in the execution of your duties, which resulted in the destruction of your vessel. You will receive a formal reprimand for this. Now, considering the exact situation we are in, to whit, the recent activity of the Borg, it has been decided that we need as many experienced commanders as we can get. Therefore, we will suspend your sentence for now. However, understand captain that you are on probation; if anything like this ever happens again you will be dishonorably discharged from Starfleet and possibly face criminal charges for your action." Parks leaned forward and interlaced his fingers. "You're a Starfleet officer, not a cowboy. Conduct yourself appropriately. We're adjourned."
Riker, knowing the worst was over, turned and walked out. Well, at least he retained his rank and position, although without a starship the question was what exactly would he be doing now. Sit behind a desk? Hopefully not. He was a little surprised to see Admiral Jellico's face as he entered the hall, but not the least surprised by the admiral's smile. "I take it you've heard the news," Riker said evenly.
"Yes," Jellico replied, "And you must admit that it is rather good. Frankly if I was on the committee I probably would've booted you out of Starfleet."
"Lucky me," Riker replied dryly.
"Walk with me captain," Jellico replied, strolling down the hallway. After a brief delay, Riker followed in step with the Admiral. "Tell me Riker, why'd you lose against the Borg?"
Riker looked at him with a bit of surprise. That was a stupid question. "They had adapted to our weaponry, we weren't doing any real damage."
"Exactly," Jellico replied. "We've moved as far as we can with the Borg on the scientific front. We understand their ships, their collective, their shields, everything, and we've adapted our tactics accordingly, but the fact is Will, we've reached an impasse. We can't continue to fight the Borg without upgrading our defenses; we've had ten years to learn that lesson and we've still made little progress in that area."
"The quantum torpedoes have met with some success," Riker pointed out. "The Borg still can't neutralize them 100%."
"No, but the damage they do isn't enough to stop them." Jellico stopped Riker in his tracks, his tongue pushing against his cheek as he grinned for a few seconds. "But what if you had more powerful weapons?"
"Obviously we'd win."
"No," Jellico said emphatically. "Strength of arms is not enough to win a battle. Look at the Borg; their weapons and defenses far exceeded our own, and yet twice we defeated them."
"But it wasn't easy..."
"No it wasn't, but the point is, easy or not, the stronger side didn't win. If there's one thing we should've learned from the Empire, it's that tactics are as important as weapons. And that's where you come in."
Riker immediately became cautious. He and Jellico had never gotten on very well; he was more than a little suspicious of anything the Admiral might have planned for him. "How?"
"Come to Utopia Planetia tomorrow at 0900." Jellico held back a chuckle. "And you might want to invite Picard too, I think he'd get a kick out of this."
Riker was surprised. "Picard's here? I thought the Borg had cut off the wormhole."
"They did. He arrived before they came, and now he's stuck here until we get this mess solved." He started walking off. "0900, don't be late." And he was gone.
Riker thought about what he'd said for a while and then went off. It's not enough to keep my eye on the Borg, he thought, I've got to watch Jellico too. He spotted Laforge and Seven talking further up the hall and walked up, catching the tail end of a discussion of the battle. “Any ideas?” he asked.
“We’re still at a loss, captain,” Laforge said. “Whatever destroyed that Cube, sensor records didn’t pick up anything.”
“But they didn’t at Yarval either,” Riker said. “Our mysterious benefactor?”
“It is possible,” Seven said. “At this time we possess too little information to offer even the slightest supposition.”
Riker shook his head. “Just what the hell throws a Borg Cube around like a rag doll?”
“Wish I knew, captain,” Laforge said. “And frankly, I’m wondering if that’s not something that’s even a bigger threat than the Borg.”
Riker nodded. “Seven, can I speak with you in private?” Laforge left them alone. “I wanted to thank you for what you said at my hearing.”
Seven looked uncomfortable, as she usually did when receiving a compliment. “I only regret that Starfleet failed to listen. Your decision prevented the assimilation of many of our fellow officers; the loss of life and equipment was tragic, but far less than being turned into drones.”
“I must admit I was a little surprised,” Riker said. “I thought you would have supported the logical choice; we gave up a very powerful ship with minimal gain.”
“Logic is irrelevant.”
“Not usually,” Riker said. “There’s something else going on, isn’t there?”
Seven hesitated. “May I speak freely, captain?”
“Of course.”
“You are not Captain Picard.”
Riker blanched a little. “Your point being?”
“Captain Picard was my commanding officer,” Seven said. “And he also served as a guide on my exploration of my humanity.” Seven paused. “I had not truly appreciated until this moment the irony of that. I attempted to turn him into a Borg, and he has attempted to turn me into a human.” She shook her head. “What I mean, captain, is that I recognize that you have tried to encourage me as Captain Picard had, but you are simply not him.”
Riker nodded unpleasantly. “Well, thanks for the info.”
“That is not what I mean, captain,” Seven said. “You have sought to include me in your poker games, and in recreational activities, but I have always declined. It is not because of a negative view for you, captain. It is my opinion that you are a very courageous and effective leader, with the ability to adapt quickly and intelligently to changing situations. You are a commanding presence, captain; you fill me with confidence in frightening circumstances. I am proud to serve under you, and believe that if the Federation is to survive, it will need captains like you leading us.”
Riker wasn’t quite sure what to say. “Thank you,” he said. “And for what it’s worth, I’m glad I have someone as brilliant and dedicated as you in my crew.” He had to ask. “What brought that on?”
Seven opened her mouth, then closed it. “Since we were trapped in the Tsunkatse facility, Joseph and I had become friends to an extent. I respected him a great deal, yet I did not tell him that.” Seven hesitated. “It reminded me that I failed to tell Data how much his friendship meant to me. I have come to realize that some things must be stated, that words carry power.”
Riker nodded. “Thank you again, commander. Please inform the rest of the senior officers that we’ll be rendezvousing at Utopia Planetia at 0900 tomorrow.”
“A new ship?” Seven inquired.
“Maybe,” Riker said, but then shook his head. “But then, this is Jellico we’re talking about.”
“We need men like him as well, captain,” Seven said.
“Of course.”
“Preferably on the rear lines.”
It was so matter-of-factly stated that when it registered it was all Riker could do not to fall over laughing on the spot. “0900, commander,” he said with another laugh as he walked away. “And let’s try not to offend the rear admiral.”
--------------------------------------------------------------
Leia looked up as Han came into their quarters, telling instantly that things didn't go well, but asking all the same.
"He wouldn't talk to me," Han admitted, relaxing into the chair, a scowl firmly entrenched on his face. "I've never seen him like this before."
"I'm really worried. Ever since he got back from the battle, Luke's been acting so... distant."
Han suddenly jerked up a little bit, a distant look in his eyes. He turned anxiously to Leia. "You don't think the Borg did something to him, do you?"
"Come on," Leia said, trying to dismiss it but finding it difficult. "What could the Borg do to him?"
Han came over and sat next to her. "You didn't see the way he looked on Yarval," Han replied. "Rambling on about Planetary Grid whatjamajigs and 'resistance is futile' garbage. I think something might have happened. I really think you should talk with him."
"He doesn't want to see me," Leia said, trying to keep the hurt out of her voice. "I can tell, whenever I get close that he gets uncomfortable." Before she could continue C-3PO shuffled into the room. "What is it Threepio?" she asked as pleasantly as she could under the circumstances.
"Oh, your highness, please excuse my intrusion. But, I'm afraid that you have a visitor and I thought it would be inappropriate to keep the ambassador waiting."
Leia got up from the couch. "We'll discuss this some more later," she said to Han as she walked towards the door. She stepped into the conversation area where the ambassador was standing, waiting as always with patience. "My apologies for the delay," she said as she came to greet him.
Ambassador Spock nodded. "I need to discuss with you a matter of some urgency." The two took a seat as he continued. "I presume you are aware of the destruction of your base at the wormhole and the presence of the Borg?"
"Yes," she said, a slight pain to her voice. The Borg; she'd been so preoccupied with Luke she'd almost forgotten about them. "We would like to thank the Federation for its aid in the battle; although we failed to stop them, we are grateful for the sacrifice you made trying to protect our people."
Spock nodded in acknowledgment. "The Federation is concerned about this situation, and are making every effort to retake the wormhole to restore communications with your galaxy. Unfortunately, the attack came while our mutual ambassadors were discussing the issues of peace with the Empire to their respective governments; there is now no direct dialogue with the New Republic. We ask that you serve as the representative of the Republic to the Federation during the interim, to help us better coordinate our efforts regarding the Borg."
Leia had gotten somewhat used to Vulcan directness, but was nevertheless surprised by the bluntness of Amb. Spock's request. "I understand your request, but I do not wish to slight the Romulans. Amb. Raay to the Klingons might be a more preferrable choice."
Spock shook his head. "Relations right now with the Klingon Empire are strained enough already; their absence from the engagement at the wormhole demonstrates how close they are to dissolving the Alliance. We dare not take any steps which might cause them to do so." Leia had to admit it was a valid point. "I will deal with the Romulans," Spock replied to her unspoken question. "I've had some experience with them. I ask that you consider my request."
After he had left, Leia did a brief Jedi strength mantra to help clear her head and renew her spirit. Luke, the Borg, the Romulans, the Klingons, they all seemed to require her immediate attention. Funny, a few years ago the only concern was peace, now it was keeping that peace alive. The constant responsibility of a leader, and of a Jedi.
--------------------------------------------------------------
He watched, unable to believe his own eyes. He'd observed the Borg for centuries and had never seen them like this. One ship after another traveled towards the anomaly, disappearing into some other galaxy totally unprepared for them. Clearly there's been some major change in the Collective, he thought. The Borg are not interested in political conquest; their expansion is based purely on their drive towards self-improvement, and yet they clearly seem to be on some kind of quest.
Curious, he scanned through their space looking for any other changes in behavior. It took a few minutes; Borg space is rather large. Finally he found it, a series of bizarre Borg activities. It took some investigation, but he found them. Very strange, he thought as he observed the hive in action, this doesn't fit their characteristics at all. He puzzled over this for some time, watching them work. Finally, bored with the scene, he set off to explore what the Federation was up to; he was very interested in how they would approach this situation.
--------------------------------------------------------------
The entire Enterprise command crew had been waiting as Picard came off the turbolift: Riker, LaForge, Beverly, Borui, and Seven, all in formal uniforms. Apparently whatever Jellico had planned was quite spectacular. Just as he thought it the Admiral came walking around the corner. "Jean-luc," he said, grabbing and shaking his hand before he could even speak, "Glad you could make it!" He looked at the assembled officers with a smile. "Well, I suppose now's the time to begin. Starfleet has just commissioned a new vessel for the war effort, one which will hopefully help turn the tide of battle in our favor, and at my request, the most experienced crew will be at the helm."
"What ship?" Riker asked.
"Trust me," Jellico said, and turned down the hall.
"First time for everything," Dr. Crusher muttered, as the group began to follow him. They came into a room with opaque glass and Jellico stopped.
"Just promise me one thing," he said, holding his hands up and gesturing as he spoke. "Promise me you'll be a bit more careful with this one." He turned to the ensign nearby. "Transparent." Immediately the glass turned clear and they looked out at the starship just beyond.
"Oh my God," Laforge whispered.
"Intriguing modifications," Seven commented. "Three nacelles. This will improve speed and maneuverability?"
"Absolutely," Jellico said, unable to hide his grin. "What do you think?"
"That," Riker stumbled for words, "That's not-"
"It is," Jellico replied, stepping right up to the glass to admire the ship. "Galaxy class. Ladies and gentlemen, I present to you, the USS Enterprise."
Luke ran through the jungle, the load on his back feelingly amazingly light, considering he was carrying a Jedi master. He climbed up the tree and grabbed onto the vine, swinging with it to continue his run. As he went, the words of encouragement from his master filled his ears. "Run! Yes. A Jedi's strength flows from the Force. But beware of the dark side. Anger, fear, aggression. The Dark side of the Force are they. Easily they flow, quick to join you in a fight. If once you start down the dark path, forever will it dominate your destiny, consume you it will, as it did Obi-Wan's apprentice."
Luke stopped as he heard mention of the man, the one who'd killed his father. But, but he was his father wasn't he? He listened as his voice spoke despite his thoughts. "Vader. Is the dark side stronger?"
Quickly his master spoke, emphatic to impress the point upon his pupil. "No! No, no.... Quicker, easier, more seductive."
Luke thought on his words, and the dilemmas they presented. "But how am I to know the good side from the bad?"
"You will know," his master insisted. "When you are calm, at peace. Passive. A Jedi uses the Force for knowledge and defense - never for attack."
"But tell me why I can't-"
"No, no, there is no why," Yoda insisted with a heavy sigh.
Luke walked over and sat on a fallen log. This isn't right, he thought to himself. I'm not in training, I'm... somewhere else.
"Troubled are you," Yoda said, drawing Luke's attention back to himself. "Worse, things are. The evil, growing it is."
Through the haze of his mind, it started coming back to him. "The evil... yes... the Borg. I was- I was fighting the Borg."
"Mm" his master replied. "Failed you did."
Luke nodded wearily. "They were too strong for us. We couldn't stop them."
"No!" Yoda interrupted before Luke could continue. "You failed; a Jedi you were not!"
Luke looked away with shame. "I don't know what happened. I didn't even think and I was doing it."
Yoda nodded, but his look showed his disapproval. "Heard my words you did, but listen, hmph, you did not."
"I don't understand!" Luke said jumping to his feet and pacing in the clearing. "I've never been able to do anything like that. I tossed a ship the size of a small space station with just a thought. How is that possible?"
Yoda sighed. "The Dark side," he said, shaking his head. "Told you I did, quick to come to you in a fight. Quick to prey on your anger, your fear."
Luke turned to his diminutive master. "But you told me the Dark side isn't stronger! Was that true, or is this another of those 'point of view' explanations?"
Yoda furrowed his brow and made a face at him. "No," he said with patience. "Quicker, easier. Have you forgotten all I have taught you?"
Luke got down on his knee in front of his master. "I saved them," he insisted. "I saved Seven. How can what I did have been wrong?"
Yoda sighed again. "Hear you nothing that I say? Once you start down the dark path, forever will it dominate your destiny! You still fail to see!” Yoda shook his head sadly. “So afraid to lose her... you make the same mistakes your father did."
Luke stood up and turned away. "My father has nothing to do with this."
"No," Yoda replied. "He has everything to do with this."
Luke turned back to him. "What do you mean?"
"All too soon, will you have learned."
--------------------------------------------------------------
News like Wormhole Base does not stay quiet for long, and so there was little surprise that the alpha quadrant was up in arms about the new situation. The overwhelming victory of the Borg over a combined Federation-Romulan-New Republic fleet didn't exactly stir feelings of confidence among those who'd always thought that the Borg was someone else's problem. Now apparently the collective had turned their full attention on them.
For William T. Riker, former commander of the USS Enterprise, he had paid a particularly strong price. Just how great it would be was just now being determined. He rose as the panel re-entered the room to make their final decision, and to find out what would become his fate.
"Captain Riker," said Admiral Parks, "Let me first say that I find your actions completely irresponsible. The Enterprise was more than just a ship, it was a symbol of what the Federation was. Your reckless disregard of the tactical situation caused not only the destruction of your ship, but very nearly resulted in the loss of lives of your entire crew. You took an irresponsible gamble. Have you anything to say on your behalf before we make our decision?"
Riker held his head high. The decision had already been made, there was no point in dragging this out. "No, sir."
Parks looked at the other members of the panel and continued. "Captain William Thomas Riker, we find you guilty of recklessness in the execution of your duties, which resulted in the destruction of your vessel. You will receive a formal reprimand for this. Now, considering the exact situation we are in, to whit, the recent activity of the Borg, it has been decided that we need as many experienced commanders as we can get. Therefore, we will suspend your sentence for now. However, understand captain that you are on probation; if anything like this ever happens again you will be dishonorably discharged from Starfleet and possibly face criminal charges for your action." Parks leaned forward and interlaced his fingers. "You're a Starfleet officer, not a cowboy. Conduct yourself appropriately. We're adjourned."
Riker, knowing the worst was over, turned and walked out. Well, at least he retained his rank and position, although without a starship the question was what exactly would he be doing now. Sit behind a desk? Hopefully not. He was a little surprised to see Admiral Jellico's face as he entered the hall, but not the least surprised by the admiral's smile. "I take it you've heard the news," Riker said evenly.
"Yes," Jellico replied, "And you must admit that it is rather good. Frankly if I was on the committee I probably would've booted you out of Starfleet."
"Lucky me," Riker replied dryly.
"Walk with me captain," Jellico replied, strolling down the hallway. After a brief delay, Riker followed in step with the Admiral. "Tell me Riker, why'd you lose against the Borg?"
Riker looked at him with a bit of surprise. That was a stupid question. "They had adapted to our weaponry, we weren't doing any real damage."
"Exactly," Jellico replied. "We've moved as far as we can with the Borg on the scientific front. We understand their ships, their collective, their shields, everything, and we've adapted our tactics accordingly, but the fact is Will, we've reached an impasse. We can't continue to fight the Borg without upgrading our defenses; we've had ten years to learn that lesson and we've still made little progress in that area."
"The quantum torpedoes have met with some success," Riker pointed out. "The Borg still can't neutralize them 100%."
"No, but the damage they do isn't enough to stop them." Jellico stopped Riker in his tracks, his tongue pushing against his cheek as he grinned for a few seconds. "But what if you had more powerful weapons?"
"Obviously we'd win."
"No," Jellico said emphatically. "Strength of arms is not enough to win a battle. Look at the Borg; their weapons and defenses far exceeded our own, and yet twice we defeated them."
"But it wasn't easy..."
"No it wasn't, but the point is, easy or not, the stronger side didn't win. If there's one thing we should've learned from the Empire, it's that tactics are as important as weapons. And that's where you come in."
Riker immediately became cautious. He and Jellico had never gotten on very well; he was more than a little suspicious of anything the Admiral might have planned for him. "How?"
"Come to Utopia Planetia tomorrow at 0900." Jellico held back a chuckle. "And you might want to invite Picard too, I think he'd get a kick out of this."
Riker was surprised. "Picard's here? I thought the Borg had cut off the wormhole."
"They did. He arrived before they came, and now he's stuck here until we get this mess solved." He started walking off. "0900, don't be late." And he was gone.
Riker thought about what he'd said for a while and then went off. It's not enough to keep my eye on the Borg, he thought, I've got to watch Jellico too. He spotted Laforge and Seven talking further up the hall and walked up, catching the tail end of a discussion of the battle. “Any ideas?” he asked.
“We’re still at a loss, captain,” Laforge said. “Whatever destroyed that Cube, sensor records didn’t pick up anything.”
“But they didn’t at Yarval either,” Riker said. “Our mysterious benefactor?”
“It is possible,” Seven said. “At this time we possess too little information to offer even the slightest supposition.”
Riker shook his head. “Just what the hell throws a Borg Cube around like a rag doll?”
“Wish I knew, captain,” Laforge said. “And frankly, I’m wondering if that’s not something that’s even a bigger threat than the Borg.”
Riker nodded. “Seven, can I speak with you in private?” Laforge left them alone. “I wanted to thank you for what you said at my hearing.”
Seven looked uncomfortable, as she usually did when receiving a compliment. “I only regret that Starfleet failed to listen. Your decision prevented the assimilation of many of our fellow officers; the loss of life and equipment was tragic, but far less than being turned into drones.”
“I must admit I was a little surprised,” Riker said. “I thought you would have supported the logical choice; we gave up a very powerful ship with minimal gain.”
“Logic is irrelevant.”
“Not usually,” Riker said. “There’s something else going on, isn’t there?”
Seven hesitated. “May I speak freely, captain?”
“Of course.”
“You are not Captain Picard.”
Riker blanched a little. “Your point being?”
“Captain Picard was my commanding officer,” Seven said. “And he also served as a guide on my exploration of my humanity.” Seven paused. “I had not truly appreciated until this moment the irony of that. I attempted to turn him into a Borg, and he has attempted to turn me into a human.” She shook her head. “What I mean, captain, is that I recognize that you have tried to encourage me as Captain Picard had, but you are simply not him.”
Riker nodded unpleasantly. “Well, thanks for the info.”
“That is not what I mean, captain,” Seven said. “You have sought to include me in your poker games, and in recreational activities, but I have always declined. It is not because of a negative view for you, captain. It is my opinion that you are a very courageous and effective leader, with the ability to adapt quickly and intelligently to changing situations. You are a commanding presence, captain; you fill me with confidence in frightening circumstances. I am proud to serve under you, and believe that if the Federation is to survive, it will need captains like you leading us.”
Riker wasn’t quite sure what to say. “Thank you,” he said. “And for what it’s worth, I’m glad I have someone as brilliant and dedicated as you in my crew.” He had to ask. “What brought that on?”
Seven opened her mouth, then closed it. “Since we were trapped in the Tsunkatse facility, Joseph and I had become friends to an extent. I respected him a great deal, yet I did not tell him that.” Seven hesitated. “It reminded me that I failed to tell Data how much his friendship meant to me. I have come to realize that some things must be stated, that words carry power.”
Riker nodded. “Thank you again, commander. Please inform the rest of the senior officers that we’ll be rendezvousing at Utopia Planetia at 0900 tomorrow.”
“A new ship?” Seven inquired.
“Maybe,” Riker said, but then shook his head. “But then, this is Jellico we’re talking about.”
“We need men like him as well, captain,” Seven said.
“Of course.”
“Preferably on the rear lines.”
It was so matter-of-factly stated that when it registered it was all Riker could do not to fall over laughing on the spot. “0900, commander,” he said with another laugh as he walked away. “And let’s try not to offend the rear admiral.”
--------------------------------------------------------------
Leia looked up as Han came into their quarters, telling instantly that things didn't go well, but asking all the same.
"He wouldn't talk to me," Han admitted, relaxing into the chair, a scowl firmly entrenched on his face. "I've never seen him like this before."
"I'm really worried. Ever since he got back from the battle, Luke's been acting so... distant."
Han suddenly jerked up a little bit, a distant look in his eyes. He turned anxiously to Leia. "You don't think the Borg did something to him, do you?"
"Come on," Leia said, trying to dismiss it but finding it difficult. "What could the Borg do to him?"
Han came over and sat next to her. "You didn't see the way he looked on Yarval," Han replied. "Rambling on about Planetary Grid whatjamajigs and 'resistance is futile' garbage. I think something might have happened. I really think you should talk with him."
"He doesn't want to see me," Leia said, trying to keep the hurt out of her voice. "I can tell, whenever I get close that he gets uncomfortable." Before she could continue C-3PO shuffled into the room. "What is it Threepio?" she asked as pleasantly as she could under the circumstances.
"Oh, your highness, please excuse my intrusion. But, I'm afraid that you have a visitor and I thought it would be inappropriate to keep the ambassador waiting."
Leia got up from the couch. "We'll discuss this some more later," she said to Han as she walked towards the door. She stepped into the conversation area where the ambassador was standing, waiting as always with patience. "My apologies for the delay," she said as she came to greet him.
Ambassador Spock nodded. "I need to discuss with you a matter of some urgency." The two took a seat as he continued. "I presume you are aware of the destruction of your base at the wormhole and the presence of the Borg?"
"Yes," she said, a slight pain to her voice. The Borg; she'd been so preoccupied with Luke she'd almost forgotten about them. "We would like to thank the Federation for its aid in the battle; although we failed to stop them, we are grateful for the sacrifice you made trying to protect our people."
Spock nodded in acknowledgment. "The Federation is concerned about this situation, and are making every effort to retake the wormhole to restore communications with your galaxy. Unfortunately, the attack came while our mutual ambassadors were discussing the issues of peace with the Empire to their respective governments; there is now no direct dialogue with the New Republic. We ask that you serve as the representative of the Republic to the Federation during the interim, to help us better coordinate our efforts regarding the Borg."
Leia had gotten somewhat used to Vulcan directness, but was nevertheless surprised by the bluntness of Amb. Spock's request. "I understand your request, but I do not wish to slight the Romulans. Amb. Raay to the Klingons might be a more preferrable choice."
Spock shook his head. "Relations right now with the Klingon Empire are strained enough already; their absence from the engagement at the wormhole demonstrates how close they are to dissolving the Alliance. We dare not take any steps which might cause them to do so." Leia had to admit it was a valid point. "I will deal with the Romulans," Spock replied to her unspoken question. "I've had some experience with them. I ask that you consider my request."
After he had left, Leia did a brief Jedi strength mantra to help clear her head and renew her spirit. Luke, the Borg, the Romulans, the Klingons, they all seemed to require her immediate attention. Funny, a few years ago the only concern was peace, now it was keeping that peace alive. The constant responsibility of a leader, and of a Jedi.
--------------------------------------------------------------
He watched, unable to believe his own eyes. He'd observed the Borg for centuries and had never seen them like this. One ship after another traveled towards the anomaly, disappearing into some other galaxy totally unprepared for them. Clearly there's been some major change in the Collective, he thought. The Borg are not interested in political conquest; their expansion is based purely on their drive towards self-improvement, and yet they clearly seem to be on some kind of quest.
Curious, he scanned through their space looking for any other changes in behavior. It took a few minutes; Borg space is rather large. Finally he found it, a series of bizarre Borg activities. It took some investigation, but he found them. Very strange, he thought as he observed the hive in action, this doesn't fit their characteristics at all. He puzzled over this for some time, watching them work. Finally, bored with the scene, he set off to explore what the Federation was up to; he was very interested in how they would approach this situation.
--------------------------------------------------------------
The entire Enterprise command crew had been waiting as Picard came off the turbolift: Riker, LaForge, Beverly, Borui, and Seven, all in formal uniforms. Apparently whatever Jellico had planned was quite spectacular. Just as he thought it the Admiral came walking around the corner. "Jean-luc," he said, grabbing and shaking his hand before he could even speak, "Glad you could make it!" He looked at the assembled officers with a smile. "Well, I suppose now's the time to begin. Starfleet has just commissioned a new vessel for the war effort, one which will hopefully help turn the tide of battle in our favor, and at my request, the most experienced crew will be at the helm."
"What ship?" Riker asked.
"Trust me," Jellico said, and turned down the hall.
"First time for everything," Dr. Crusher muttered, as the group began to follow him. They came into a room with opaque glass and Jellico stopped.
"Just promise me one thing," he said, holding his hands up and gesturing as he spoke. "Promise me you'll be a bit more careful with this one." He turned to the ensign nearby. "Transparent." Immediately the glass turned clear and they looked out at the starship just beyond.
"Oh my God," Laforge whispered.
"Intriguing modifications," Seven commented. "Three nacelles. This will improve speed and maneuverability?"
"Absolutely," Jellico said, unable to hide his grin. "What do you think?"
"That," Riker stumbled for words, "That's not-"
"It is," Jellico replied, stepping right up to the glass to admire the ship. "Galaxy class. Ladies and gentlemen, I present to you, the USS Enterprise."
Chuck
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I agree. However, Parks is the same guy who refused to recognize the evidence of the Empire's guilt. I figured I'd leave it as is and let the conversation between Riker and Seven handle the details.Crazedwraith wrote:Dun-dun-duh!
Though I don't think Riker deserved the reckless label slapped on him, this time through.
Chuck
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- Contact:
Part XII
Ysanne Isard was strapped immobile in restraints when the Blessed One walked into the room. They’d left the Lusankya days before, but their current position was unknown; not that it would have done her any good to know. “I wanted you to see this,” the Blessed One said, activating the screen. The battle at Wormhole Station played out on the screen. “Note this,” the Blessed One said, and the image zoomed in on a Borg Cube. For no discernible reason it was battered across space and collided with another. The image quickly shifted, revealing an X-Wing. “Exactly as expected,” came the chilling voice.
Isard said nothing, though she had no choice, since a gag was stuffed into her mouth. “It was the point you could never get, Ysanne,” the Blessed One said, pacing quietly. “Subtlety. You treated every obstacle like a wall that required a sledgehammer, never as a door that required a lockpick. Look at what we’ve done.” Ysanne watched her captor admire the handiwork. “The manipulations were so slight... a few Borg components, an invasive program to disrupt the holonet, and from these small and insignificant things, we’ve managed to push the most powerful Jedi in the galaxy in the direction of the Dark side...” The voice was quiet by Ysanne’s ear. “Can you imagine what he could do for our cause? After all, his father had certainly proven an asset.” The Blessed One walked away. “I want you to think about this, Ysanne, and think hard. Perhaps, in time, I can let you out of those restraints, let you help me voluntarily instead of forcing me to use your own less-than-subtle means against you.”
--------------------------------------------------------------
"I thought the Enterprise-D was beyond repair," Riker said as he looked again at the ship, unable to believe it.
"It was," Jellico replied. "I put the remains in mothballs, just in case we wanted it as a museum piece. But, I had some ideas on redesigning the Galaxy class, and well, I thought there was no one more worthy than the Enterprise."
"Did you rebuild the stardrive?" Laforge asked. "The other one was vaporized."
"I used the drive from the Swansea," Jellico replied. "We've obviously made some modifications. For starters, we've upgraded her with a hyperdrive, replaced a lot of the crew quarters with secondary shield generators. We've boosted the power phenomenally, and we've taken a lesson or two from the Republic in weapons design."
"You are referring to the cannon located below the saucer section?" Seven asked.
Jellico turned to her. "Very observant, commander. The new design doesn't allow for separation, but she's got a hell of a bang. Believe me," he said with a smile, "the Borg won't be ignoring that!"
"I can't believe it," Picard whispered.
"Believe it Jean-luc," Jellico said, turning back to the ship. "The Enterprise is back, and ready to teach the Borg a lesson." Jellico went back to describing the ship, but Picard showed no interest. He finally turned and slipped out of the room. As he went down the hall, he heard the footsteps of someone running towards him, and saw that it was Riker.
"Something the matter?" Riker asked as he fell into step with Picard.
"You could say that," he replied.
"What's the problem?"
Picard stopped. "'Tell me O spirit, are these shadows of the things that must be...'"
"Jean-luc," Riker asked, an edge of worry to his voice. "Are you all right?"
"It's all happening," Picard said, almost ignoring Riker. "Everything is happening exactly as I saw it."
"Jean-luc," Riker repeated. "What's happening? What are you talking about?"
Picard looked at Riker, as if just hearing him for the first time. "Everything Q showed me about the future."
Suddenly, it clicked. "Stardate 47988."
"Exactly," Picard replied heavily. "I was a former ambassador; I was tending my family's vines because there was no one else to do it. Geordi, he didn't have his visor, he had eyes. I remember- I remember traveling at Warp 13. I remember our relationship with the Romulans had improved but with the Klingons had deteriorated. Deanna Troi was dead. And I remember, there was a Galaxy class starship called Enterprise with three nacelles." His head spun a little as he thought about it some more. "Don't you see Will? It's all happening."
"What if it did?" Riker replied. "I mean, it wasn't as if your view of the future was a terrible one. In fact, it shows that we'll prevail against the Borg; that's got to be comforting." He smiled. "And I become an admiral, if I remember the story correctly."
"You don't understand," Picard replied. "Everything is correct except for one detail, one person who's missing from the puzzle."
Riker thought a moment and realized. "Data."
"Exactly," Picard continued. "Data was there, except he perished with the Death Star."
"So," Riker replied, "I guess that means your view of the future isn't complete."
"That would be true, except for Mr. Laforge's discovery."
Riker thought about what he might me. "You're not talking about the transporter beam on the Death Star?"
Picard continued, even more adamant. "Everyone's been assuming it was the Emperor, but it can't be him. But no one saw Data die, we all just assumed he did. But what if instead he transported his mind out of the Death Star to escape."
"Jean-luc," Riker replied. "That's a pretty big leap of logic. We've seen no evidence that Data survived and it's been years. He'd have found a way back to us by now."
"Except for one detail," Picard said. "The beam was aimed towards the delta quadrant. He could easily have become lost there, waiting for someone to find him."
"Look, Jean-luc," Riker replied, "I want to believe you, but even if you had real evidence for this, the delta quadrant is enormous, and it's now under the control of the Borg. We have to face reality."
"You face reality," Picard said, walking off, "I'll face the future."
--------------------------------------------------------------
Leia was just putting the finishing touches on their living quarters on Earth. It had taken some getting used to to look at a different sky, different people, different sensations. Still, for the immediate future this would be their home, and she insisted on making it just that. She heard the door chime and turned to see who the visitor was. Strange, she could sense his nervousness clear through the door without even trying; but she could tell he was no threat. She opened up the door and greeted the tall nervous man.
"Um... hello," he said. "It's a pleasure to meet you."
Leia looked at him, his hands visibly shaking. "I assume then, that my reputation precedes me?"
"Yes, yes!" he said. "Hello, ambassador."
"Hello." She waited. "And you are?"
"Oh, uh, Reginald Barclay, Lt. Reginald Barclay, I'm with, that is to say, I work in, for, in, Starfleet."
Leia nodded. "Is there something I can help you with?"
"Yes! I mean, I have something that, it's about the Borg, um..."
"The Borg," Leia asked, surprised.
"Yes. I have a plan, well an idea, an idea that could be turned into a plan, provided we approved of the idea and how to execut-"
"Why don't you come inside," Leia offered.
"Yes, that would be good." Barclay walked with great unease to the sofa and carefully sat down. His discomfort was obvious even if she weren't a Jedi.
Leia took a seat across from him. "So, you were saying something about the Borg."
"Yes. The Borg. As you know, or I assume you know, the Borg are..." he gestured with his hands in an interlacing gesture a few times, "they're a collective."
"So I've noticed."
Barclay pointed at her. "Right, of course you know that. Um, the thing is, the Collective is connected through a sub-space link, this carrier wave that the Borg use." He fumbled with his fingers as he continued talking. "I think I've found a way," he held up his finger, "mind you this is only theoretical, I think we might be able to create a sub-space scanner to pick up these, these um, Borg, signals."
Leia was clearly interested in the concept, although she had to admit she wondered about the man who had the idea. "Have you spoken to Starfleet about this?"
Barclay began stumbling and closing his eyes frequently as he continued. "Well, yes, um, I spoke with, with my superiors. They don't see the practicality of this; but I know that you were responsible for several joint Federation-Republic scientific efforts."
"The Republic doesn't have much to contribute these days," Leia said.
"I, I, I'm aware of that." He paused. "But, all the more reason to, to, to try this. We can find out what the Borg are up to and possibly prepare a defense."
Leia thought about the idea. It sounded ludicrous, but there was no sense in ignoring a potential advantage. "I'll consider your offer Mr. Barclay."
He stood up awkwardly. "Um, good. Thank you, miss, misses um, ambassador." And he stumbled his way out of the room. Leia smiled a little as he walked out. This had taken a great deal of courage for him to come to a stranger like this. She had to at least consider it.
"Threepio," she called. The golden android shuffled into the room. "Threepio, I need to arrange a meeting with some of the top Federation minds on the Borg as soon as possible." She watched as the droid went to make the arrangements. Perhaps this was the beginning of the answer she'd been hoping for. Perhaps it would reveal more about this Anansi business as well.
--------------------------------------------------------------
Thrawn walked onto the bridge of his flagship, the Vendetta. Operations continued smoothly with or without his presence, his officers keeping his men at the peak of performance. They were a tribute to the New Empire, the Empire under his command, and an Empire which seemed to be continuing its growth.
"Sir," Captain Jarrol said as soon as he saw Thrawn standing there, "Admiral Nemit reports that there are now over fifty worlds which wish to join the Empire."
"It seems our reputation has grown," Thrawn commented. "Although I wonder how effectively we can defend so many systems without leaving ourselves as vulnerable to the Borg as the New Republic was?"
Captain Jarrol's smile was gone and replaced with a look of uncertainty. "You wish to decline their admission?"
"No captain," Thrawn replied patiently. "I want them to understand that we will need immediate resources if we're to find the ships and troops to defend that many systems from the Borg. I'm not willing to risk the security of the Empire for the sake of a few worlds that are too self-involved to contribute to the war effort." His stare drilled into Jarrol. "Make sure Admiral Nemit understands that."
"Yes sir," Jarrol replied, still uncertain. The other officers in the area pretended to not have noticed, but it seemed they shared his surprise.
"One thing we seem to have forgotten," Thrawn said, raising his voice, "Is how we've achieved what we now possess. We are the undisputed rulers over this section of space, yes, but we have built it through reputation gentlemen. If you had learned anything at all from the people of this part of space, you should know they fear and respect the Borg. We have defeated them on numerous occasions, and now they fear and respect us. A strategic blunder against the Borg will not only cost us our ships, equipment, and lives, but also the support we need to rebuild. Don't let your confidence cause foolishness, or this last remnant of the Empire will be gone forever." His voice returned to normal. "Believe me, the Borg are far more cunning than you realize."
--------------------------------------------------------------
The crewman from Utopia Planetia led the way into the room. “Here you are, commander,” he said to Seven as he showed her her new quarters on the Enterprise-D. “The admiral wasn’t sure if you’d prefer an alcove or a bed, so he included both.”
“This is adequate,” Seven said, examining the room. “I will make the appropriate adaptations in time. That will be all, crewman.” He nodded and left. She placed the satchel on the bed and walked over to the alcove; it was sufficient for her needs. Her first reassignment as an actual member of Starfleet, though it was little in the way of change. The most pronounced difference would be the friends lost against the Borg. Seven’s face became more downcast. Well, not friends... colleagues. There were few that Seven would actual provide with the label of “friend.”
That brought her back to the satchel. She almost hadn’t made it, but the thought of the Borg possessing it had been too much for her to bear. She sat down on the bed and opened the satchel and carefully pulled out the book. She placed it gently on the bed and looked at it.
--------------------------------------------------------------
“What is it?” Seven asked as Data handed her the wrapped package.
“A gift,” Data said. “Soon after I became science officer of the Enterprise, Commander Riker provided me with one as a jocular introduction to my position. It was a bound paper copy of the book ‘Pinocchio.’ It was a parallel, you see, between the title character’s plight to be a real boy, and my own to become more human. I thought it would be an appropriate gesture for me to present such a gift to you as you take my former post.”
“That is... thoughtful,” Seven said as she removed the paper. “’Die Unendliche Geschichte,’” she read the book title aloud. “I assume you have likewise chosen this as a jocular introduction?”
“Yes,” Data said. “I have identified eleven different parallels between yourself and the story, but to summarize: it is the story of a boy who learns of a fantasy land through a book. Inside, he discovers a woman in the form of a little girl who is empress of the land, living in an ivory tower. To save the land, he must give her a name.”
“I being the woman in the ivory tower,” Seven said. “As a representation of my obsession with scientific pursuits over human matters, an ‘ivory tower intellectual.’”
“Yes,” Data said. “And like her, you are in many ways enigmatic, due to your dual human and Borg natures. And the boy-“
“I would prefer reading the book and discovering the parallels myself, Data.”
“Of course,” Data said. “As I said, however, it is also an attempt at humor. Commander Riker did not intend for me to assume that I was a puppet.”
“No, of course not,” Seven said. “I am touched by your careful thought, Data; you have sought out a gift based upon your strong insight into my character. I will cherish it always, and have it serve as a reminder of our friendship.”
“I am glad, Seven,” Data said with a nod.
“What name does he give her?” Seven enquired.
“Moonchild,” Data said.
“That name is absurd,” Seven said. She looked at the cover and saw the boy riding a hairy beast. “What of the boy?”
“His name is Bastian,” Data said.
Seven ran her hand over the figures that adorned its cover. “It is a good name,” she said after a brief time.
--------------------------------------------------------------
Seven looked at the characters on the cover of the book. “I wish I could speak with you, Data,” she said. “He has re-entered my life after so long... I would like to have your guidance.” She closed her eyes, reflecting on the months they’d worked together on the Enterprise. “Despite everything, you will always be my friend.” She wet her lips. “After a time, I had stopped thinking about him. I became more and more devoted towards my work, and my efforts towards achieving perfection. But then he was here, and it reminded me of those days. I feel so many emotions, Data... I envy you your ability to turn them off, as they are a powerful distraction to me.” She covered her face with her hand. “The paradox of emotion still looms over me. Part of me wants to pull him close, and part of me wishes to push him away.” She turned back to the book. “Part of me wants to stay in my ivory tower, and part wants him to give me a new name.”
--------------------------------------------------------------
On the other side of the galaxy, a Borg ship's construction was finally at an end. At fifty kilometers in length, it was the largest ship the Collective had ever built; what's more, it was unlike any other ship they had built. One might attribute this to its peculiar shape, a tetrahedron, each side identical in size and shape, each covered with a thick layer of armor, and staffed by over twenty million drones. And yet, this was not the only thing that made this ship special.
As it moved away from the Unicomplex a few Cubes, tiny by comparison, fell into formation around it. And then the tiny fleet entered hyperspace. The time had come to test Pyramid 01, and again show that resistance was futile.
Ysanne Isard was strapped immobile in restraints when the Blessed One walked into the room. They’d left the Lusankya days before, but their current position was unknown; not that it would have done her any good to know. “I wanted you to see this,” the Blessed One said, activating the screen. The battle at Wormhole Station played out on the screen. “Note this,” the Blessed One said, and the image zoomed in on a Borg Cube. For no discernible reason it was battered across space and collided with another. The image quickly shifted, revealing an X-Wing. “Exactly as expected,” came the chilling voice.
Isard said nothing, though she had no choice, since a gag was stuffed into her mouth. “It was the point you could never get, Ysanne,” the Blessed One said, pacing quietly. “Subtlety. You treated every obstacle like a wall that required a sledgehammer, never as a door that required a lockpick. Look at what we’ve done.” Ysanne watched her captor admire the handiwork. “The manipulations were so slight... a few Borg components, an invasive program to disrupt the holonet, and from these small and insignificant things, we’ve managed to push the most powerful Jedi in the galaxy in the direction of the Dark side...” The voice was quiet by Ysanne’s ear. “Can you imagine what he could do for our cause? After all, his father had certainly proven an asset.” The Blessed One walked away. “I want you to think about this, Ysanne, and think hard. Perhaps, in time, I can let you out of those restraints, let you help me voluntarily instead of forcing me to use your own less-than-subtle means against you.”
--------------------------------------------------------------
"I thought the Enterprise-D was beyond repair," Riker said as he looked again at the ship, unable to believe it.
"It was," Jellico replied. "I put the remains in mothballs, just in case we wanted it as a museum piece. But, I had some ideas on redesigning the Galaxy class, and well, I thought there was no one more worthy than the Enterprise."
"Did you rebuild the stardrive?" Laforge asked. "The other one was vaporized."
"I used the drive from the Swansea," Jellico replied. "We've obviously made some modifications. For starters, we've upgraded her with a hyperdrive, replaced a lot of the crew quarters with secondary shield generators. We've boosted the power phenomenally, and we've taken a lesson or two from the Republic in weapons design."
"You are referring to the cannon located below the saucer section?" Seven asked.
Jellico turned to her. "Very observant, commander. The new design doesn't allow for separation, but she's got a hell of a bang. Believe me," he said with a smile, "the Borg won't be ignoring that!"
"I can't believe it," Picard whispered.
"Believe it Jean-luc," Jellico said, turning back to the ship. "The Enterprise is back, and ready to teach the Borg a lesson." Jellico went back to describing the ship, but Picard showed no interest. He finally turned and slipped out of the room. As he went down the hall, he heard the footsteps of someone running towards him, and saw that it was Riker.
"Something the matter?" Riker asked as he fell into step with Picard.
"You could say that," he replied.
"What's the problem?"
Picard stopped. "'Tell me O spirit, are these shadows of the things that must be...'"
"Jean-luc," Riker asked, an edge of worry to his voice. "Are you all right?"
"It's all happening," Picard said, almost ignoring Riker. "Everything is happening exactly as I saw it."
"Jean-luc," Riker repeated. "What's happening? What are you talking about?"
Picard looked at Riker, as if just hearing him for the first time. "Everything Q showed me about the future."
Suddenly, it clicked. "Stardate 47988."
"Exactly," Picard replied heavily. "I was a former ambassador; I was tending my family's vines because there was no one else to do it. Geordi, he didn't have his visor, he had eyes. I remember- I remember traveling at Warp 13. I remember our relationship with the Romulans had improved but with the Klingons had deteriorated. Deanna Troi was dead. And I remember, there was a Galaxy class starship called Enterprise with three nacelles." His head spun a little as he thought about it some more. "Don't you see Will? It's all happening."
"What if it did?" Riker replied. "I mean, it wasn't as if your view of the future was a terrible one. In fact, it shows that we'll prevail against the Borg; that's got to be comforting." He smiled. "And I become an admiral, if I remember the story correctly."
"You don't understand," Picard replied. "Everything is correct except for one detail, one person who's missing from the puzzle."
Riker thought a moment and realized. "Data."
"Exactly," Picard continued. "Data was there, except he perished with the Death Star."
"So," Riker replied, "I guess that means your view of the future isn't complete."
"That would be true, except for Mr. Laforge's discovery."
Riker thought about what he might me. "You're not talking about the transporter beam on the Death Star?"
Picard continued, even more adamant. "Everyone's been assuming it was the Emperor, but it can't be him. But no one saw Data die, we all just assumed he did. But what if instead he transported his mind out of the Death Star to escape."
"Jean-luc," Riker replied. "That's a pretty big leap of logic. We've seen no evidence that Data survived and it's been years. He'd have found a way back to us by now."
"Except for one detail," Picard said. "The beam was aimed towards the delta quadrant. He could easily have become lost there, waiting for someone to find him."
"Look, Jean-luc," Riker replied, "I want to believe you, but even if you had real evidence for this, the delta quadrant is enormous, and it's now under the control of the Borg. We have to face reality."
"You face reality," Picard said, walking off, "I'll face the future."
--------------------------------------------------------------
Leia was just putting the finishing touches on their living quarters on Earth. It had taken some getting used to to look at a different sky, different people, different sensations. Still, for the immediate future this would be their home, and she insisted on making it just that. She heard the door chime and turned to see who the visitor was. Strange, she could sense his nervousness clear through the door without even trying; but she could tell he was no threat. She opened up the door and greeted the tall nervous man.
"Um... hello," he said. "It's a pleasure to meet you."
Leia looked at him, his hands visibly shaking. "I assume then, that my reputation precedes me?"
"Yes, yes!" he said. "Hello, ambassador."
"Hello." She waited. "And you are?"
"Oh, uh, Reginald Barclay, Lt. Reginald Barclay, I'm with, that is to say, I work in, for, in, Starfleet."
Leia nodded. "Is there something I can help you with?"
"Yes! I mean, I have something that, it's about the Borg, um..."
"The Borg," Leia asked, surprised.
"Yes. I have a plan, well an idea, an idea that could be turned into a plan, provided we approved of the idea and how to execut-"
"Why don't you come inside," Leia offered.
"Yes, that would be good." Barclay walked with great unease to the sofa and carefully sat down. His discomfort was obvious even if she weren't a Jedi.
Leia took a seat across from him. "So, you were saying something about the Borg."
"Yes. The Borg. As you know, or I assume you know, the Borg are..." he gestured with his hands in an interlacing gesture a few times, "they're a collective."
"So I've noticed."
Barclay pointed at her. "Right, of course you know that. Um, the thing is, the Collective is connected through a sub-space link, this carrier wave that the Borg use." He fumbled with his fingers as he continued talking. "I think I've found a way," he held up his finger, "mind you this is only theoretical, I think we might be able to create a sub-space scanner to pick up these, these um, Borg, signals."
Leia was clearly interested in the concept, although she had to admit she wondered about the man who had the idea. "Have you spoken to Starfleet about this?"
Barclay began stumbling and closing his eyes frequently as he continued. "Well, yes, um, I spoke with, with my superiors. They don't see the practicality of this; but I know that you were responsible for several joint Federation-Republic scientific efforts."
"The Republic doesn't have much to contribute these days," Leia said.
"I, I, I'm aware of that." He paused. "But, all the more reason to, to, to try this. We can find out what the Borg are up to and possibly prepare a defense."
Leia thought about the idea. It sounded ludicrous, but there was no sense in ignoring a potential advantage. "I'll consider your offer Mr. Barclay."
He stood up awkwardly. "Um, good. Thank you, miss, misses um, ambassador." And he stumbled his way out of the room. Leia smiled a little as he walked out. This had taken a great deal of courage for him to come to a stranger like this. She had to at least consider it.
"Threepio," she called. The golden android shuffled into the room. "Threepio, I need to arrange a meeting with some of the top Federation minds on the Borg as soon as possible." She watched as the droid went to make the arrangements. Perhaps this was the beginning of the answer she'd been hoping for. Perhaps it would reveal more about this Anansi business as well.
--------------------------------------------------------------
Thrawn walked onto the bridge of his flagship, the Vendetta. Operations continued smoothly with or without his presence, his officers keeping his men at the peak of performance. They were a tribute to the New Empire, the Empire under his command, and an Empire which seemed to be continuing its growth.
"Sir," Captain Jarrol said as soon as he saw Thrawn standing there, "Admiral Nemit reports that there are now over fifty worlds which wish to join the Empire."
"It seems our reputation has grown," Thrawn commented. "Although I wonder how effectively we can defend so many systems without leaving ourselves as vulnerable to the Borg as the New Republic was?"
Captain Jarrol's smile was gone and replaced with a look of uncertainty. "You wish to decline their admission?"
"No captain," Thrawn replied patiently. "I want them to understand that we will need immediate resources if we're to find the ships and troops to defend that many systems from the Borg. I'm not willing to risk the security of the Empire for the sake of a few worlds that are too self-involved to contribute to the war effort." His stare drilled into Jarrol. "Make sure Admiral Nemit understands that."
"Yes sir," Jarrol replied, still uncertain. The other officers in the area pretended to not have noticed, but it seemed they shared his surprise.
"One thing we seem to have forgotten," Thrawn said, raising his voice, "Is how we've achieved what we now possess. We are the undisputed rulers over this section of space, yes, but we have built it through reputation gentlemen. If you had learned anything at all from the people of this part of space, you should know they fear and respect the Borg. We have defeated them on numerous occasions, and now they fear and respect us. A strategic blunder against the Borg will not only cost us our ships, equipment, and lives, but also the support we need to rebuild. Don't let your confidence cause foolishness, or this last remnant of the Empire will be gone forever." His voice returned to normal. "Believe me, the Borg are far more cunning than you realize."
--------------------------------------------------------------
The crewman from Utopia Planetia led the way into the room. “Here you are, commander,” he said to Seven as he showed her her new quarters on the Enterprise-D. “The admiral wasn’t sure if you’d prefer an alcove or a bed, so he included both.”
“This is adequate,” Seven said, examining the room. “I will make the appropriate adaptations in time. That will be all, crewman.” He nodded and left. She placed the satchel on the bed and walked over to the alcove; it was sufficient for her needs. Her first reassignment as an actual member of Starfleet, though it was little in the way of change. The most pronounced difference would be the friends lost against the Borg. Seven’s face became more downcast. Well, not friends... colleagues. There were few that Seven would actual provide with the label of “friend.”
That brought her back to the satchel. She almost hadn’t made it, but the thought of the Borg possessing it had been too much for her to bear. She sat down on the bed and opened the satchel and carefully pulled out the book. She placed it gently on the bed and looked at it.
--------------------------------------------------------------
“What is it?” Seven asked as Data handed her the wrapped package.
“A gift,” Data said. “Soon after I became science officer of the Enterprise, Commander Riker provided me with one as a jocular introduction to my position. It was a bound paper copy of the book ‘Pinocchio.’ It was a parallel, you see, between the title character’s plight to be a real boy, and my own to become more human. I thought it would be an appropriate gesture for me to present such a gift to you as you take my former post.”
“That is... thoughtful,” Seven said as she removed the paper. “’Die Unendliche Geschichte,’” she read the book title aloud. “I assume you have likewise chosen this as a jocular introduction?”
“Yes,” Data said. “I have identified eleven different parallels between yourself and the story, but to summarize: it is the story of a boy who learns of a fantasy land through a book. Inside, he discovers a woman in the form of a little girl who is empress of the land, living in an ivory tower. To save the land, he must give her a name.”
“I being the woman in the ivory tower,” Seven said. “As a representation of my obsession with scientific pursuits over human matters, an ‘ivory tower intellectual.’”
“Yes,” Data said. “And like her, you are in many ways enigmatic, due to your dual human and Borg natures. And the boy-“
“I would prefer reading the book and discovering the parallels myself, Data.”
“Of course,” Data said. “As I said, however, it is also an attempt at humor. Commander Riker did not intend for me to assume that I was a puppet.”
“No, of course not,” Seven said. “I am touched by your careful thought, Data; you have sought out a gift based upon your strong insight into my character. I will cherish it always, and have it serve as a reminder of our friendship.”
“I am glad, Seven,” Data said with a nod.
“What name does he give her?” Seven enquired.
“Moonchild,” Data said.
“That name is absurd,” Seven said. She looked at the cover and saw the boy riding a hairy beast. “What of the boy?”
“His name is Bastian,” Data said.
Seven ran her hand over the figures that adorned its cover. “It is a good name,” she said after a brief time.
--------------------------------------------------------------
Seven looked at the characters on the cover of the book. “I wish I could speak with you, Data,” she said. “He has re-entered my life after so long... I would like to have your guidance.” She closed her eyes, reflecting on the months they’d worked together on the Enterprise. “Despite everything, you will always be my friend.” She wet her lips. “After a time, I had stopped thinking about him. I became more and more devoted towards my work, and my efforts towards achieving perfection. But then he was here, and it reminded me of those days. I feel so many emotions, Data... I envy you your ability to turn them off, as they are a powerful distraction to me.” She covered her face with her hand. “The paradox of emotion still looms over me. Part of me wants to pull him close, and part of me wishes to push him away.” She turned back to the book. “Part of me wants to stay in my ivory tower, and part wants him to give me a new name.”
--------------------------------------------------------------
On the other side of the galaxy, a Borg ship's construction was finally at an end. At fifty kilometers in length, it was the largest ship the Collective had ever built; what's more, it was unlike any other ship they had built. One might attribute this to its peculiar shape, a tetrahedron, each side identical in size and shape, each covered with a thick layer of armor, and staffed by over twenty million drones. And yet, this was not the only thing that made this ship special.
As it moved away from the Unicomplex a few Cubes, tiny by comparison, fell into formation around it. And then the tiny fleet entered hyperspace. The time had come to test Pyramid 01, and again show that resistance was futile.
Chuck
Great as usual, and I really like the new bit with Seven remembering Data and reflecting on the book.
A nitpick, though:
A nitpick, though:
IIRC, in "All Good Things" hadn't the Klingons conquered the Romulans?Sonnenburg wrote:I remember our relationship with the Romulans had improved but with the Klingons had deteriorated.
"I want to mow down a bunch of motherfuckers with absurdly large weapons and relative impunity - preferably in and around a skyscraper. Then I want to fight a grim battle against the unlikely duo of the Terminator and Robocop. The last level should involve (but not be limited to) multiple robo-Hitlers and a gorillasaurus rex."--Uraniun235 on his ideal FPS game
"The ability to destroy a planet is insignificant compared to the power of the Force."--Darth Vader
"The ability to destroy a planet is insignificant compared to the power of the Force."--Darth Vader
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Crazedwraith
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Sonnenburg
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Thank you. I'm rather happy with how it turned out, tying up issues of her relationship with Luke and Data, showing that despite his betrayal that in the end he meant enough for her to take the risk that she did.Trogdor wrote:Great as usual, and I really like the new bit with Seven remembering Data and reflecting on the book.
Yes, but that's 25 years after Stardate 47988, whereas this is only 8. What the present shows to Picard is the evidence that that future will come into existence.Trogdor wrote: A nitpick, though:
IIRC, in "All Good Things" hadn't the Klingons conquered the Romulans?Sonnenburg wrote:I remember our relationship with the Romulans had improved but with the Klingons had deteriorated.
Chuck
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Sonnenburg
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