Star Empire wrote:I really like you brining Picard back into this like that, and the idea of him testing those 5.
Thank you. Having looked back over the story I've found myself more inclined to embrace the mythic aspects of it, much the same ways SW was originally conceived and a bit of an undercurrent to some aspects of ST. Putting some of the Trek history in with the events of Unity caused that interesting pattern to emerge (and not to give anything away, but Picard will realize the significance more before AAO finishes. )
Star Empire wrote:
The first time reading through this I didn't really think the Klingons would be as dumb as to invade the Romulans with the Empire on the rise, but this time around I realize, how much it fits perfectly. Heck, they went to war with the Cardassians and Federation, just when the Dominion looked to be ready to invade their whole part of space. Its also been years now the defeat of the death star and the end of the last war. The Empire may be a constant threat, and they feel they need enemy to fight now, not maybe in a couple of years. The Empire would be perfect to go to war with, but its way too impractical, so the Romulans are the next best choice.
Like Seanbaby observed, even Aquaman has an archnemesis, because some people just like to walk into a room and kick the ass of the littlest guy they can find.
Second part for today; make sure you read 19 first.
Part XX
The mind’s eye takes in the glowing shape of a world, a greenish-blue color more in keeping with a gas giant than a normal humanoid planet. It hangs in space for a time until the world begins expanding as it approaches, and the fringes of geography come into view. The atmosphere begins to part as the journey continues, and all the while there are voices.
“What do you know of Bastion?” Ben Sisko asks.
The world continues to grow as the planet accelerates, grey dots beginning to appear which expand into cities, standing at the center of crisscrossing lines that cover the planet like a spider web.
“It’s the center of the Empire,” Seven replies. “It’s moved from planet to planet as Imperial territory grows and shrinks. It isn’t really a world, just a title given to wherever the capital is.”
As one city dominates the view buildings can be seen and distinguished, their dark outlines in contrast to the lighter duracrete walkways that lie beneath. They rush past as the mind continues to approach.
“And now it has returned to their own galaxy,” Ben says. “To the Core.”
“But not Coruscant.”
“No,” Ben agreed. “Coruscant is dead. Another world is now the home of the Empire....”
The movement is a blur as the buildings passed faster than if one were falling, the distant streets approaching at a maddening speed, until suddenly it is reached, and motion stops momentarily. Then a twist upwards looks down the street as a speeder flashes by, and accelerating again to follow it. Faster and faster until the black shape is reached.
“....the home of evil,” Ben finishes.
The speeder continues to increase accelerate, rushing past the buildings with complete disregard for all but their own haste. Finally it passes a final dark shape and the open area beyond the city is visible as the speeder continues along the road. A brief lifting of the mind sees the speeder from overhead as it races along the barren spaces, and then rapidly accelerates towards the speeder again, passing through the roof and into the vehicle itself, where Mara Jade sits with barely restrained anxiousness. Across from her is Skywalker and his former teacher, Selvik.
“Are you certain?” Mara asks, not even attempting to hide the worry in her voice.
Skywalker looks over to the Vulcan, who sits rigid with a blank stare. For weeks he had been subjected to Imperial brainwashing techniques, personally supervised by his former pupil. The great philosopher and spiritual leader was now only an empty shell of a man, easily manipulated by those who possessed such gifts.
“There can be no chance of failure,” Mara says emphatically. “You will both pay the price if we do not meet with success.”
Skywalker says nothing, as he had for as long as she had known him. A man of conflict, unable to remove the tiny splinter in his mind that continued to infuriate the Sith. His problems were not her concern at the moment. She had waited years for this day, and now that it had come each second was torment. Let it end, she demanded; let it end now!
They fly past as the speeder turns off the road and accelerates ahead as the distant image of a mountain forms. It continues on, hovering with its repulsors over the broken terrain, unconcerned about the hazards but rather focused on the prize. In a few minutes the speeder stops at the entrance, and the three rapidly exit. Only.... only Mara pauses at the entrance, feeling a deep worry over what awaits, and yet inexplicably pushed onward. Gripped with fear she steps into the cave closely followed by her consort and his mentor. The torches have already been lit to guide their way, and they travel deep into the stone mountain.
“The evil of the Empire,” Seven says to Ben.
They follow the turning stairs, carved out of the very rock that made up this mountain, the flickering shadows waiting for them around every bend. Kilometers of passageways are covered as they follow a single path through the tangle that continues to branch from each as they move. There is no doubt about their destination. At last, after an untold period of time has passed, the narrow walls widen into a cavern, filled with the waiting, chanting voices and torches that have also looked to this day.
“No,” Ben replies. “The evil of the world. The corruption, the disease, the black heart at the center of it all.”
“That is Bastion?”
“No. Bastion is only a name, and a name does not change the essence of what something is. This world is and will forever more,” he said grimly, “be called ‘Byss.’”
The Cult of the Emperor continue their subdued chants as Darth Whind steps into their presence. The prophet, the one who revealed to them the truth of destiny’s plan. She stands in the center of the room, majestic, the very energy of the Dark side causing her flame-red hair to glow slightly. There is a steady rhythm as men begin to move; envied men, men who had proven their worthiness to actually participate so directly, and be permitted to perform this most sacred of tasks. With extreme care the cloning tank is lowered to the floor before her, the man inside hovering in silence, his life functions carried out by artificial instructions, his heart and mind void. Darth Whind, runs a hand along the tank’s surface as she looks within. The delay has not been kind; he is far older and weaker because of the passing years.
“The Force,” Ben explains, “is an energy field created by all living things. We exist in harmony with it. Indeed, we are a part of it, a part of something much larger than ourselves.”
“Luke explained that to me once,” Seven says.
“Yes, but you must understand what you are, and what I am, and what everyone else is,” Ben insists. “We are not corporeal creatures that skulk about the cosmos. That body you possess is merely a physical husk, a shell that hold the true, immutable you.”
The members of the cult draw back as Skywalker brings the Vulcan forward, never ceasing in their chant as he approaches.
“You mean the soul?”
“It’s as good a word as any.”
Selvik’s will is gone, and with the greatest of ease Skywalker manipulates him to do his every bidding. Without a thought the Vulcan reaches up to take hold of Darth Whind’s head in his hands, the continued sound of chanting heard in the background.
“A Jedi or Sith is a master of manipulating Force energy,” Ben says. “All of their abilities ultimately stem from this. The greatest of all gain a mastery over life itself. It can be used to heal, or it can be used to kill.”
“Like when the Emperor shot his lighting at us.”
“Exactly. And this is the nature of the evil, the means it has to live.”
The chanting continues to grow as Selvik removes his right hand and stretches out towards the tank, his hand pressed against the glass as his left continues to rest on the side of her face. He is whispering something indecipherable.
“A person could in fact live forever if they became powerful enough,” Ben went on. “But none have achieved that level of power. But there is an alternative. The mind can be passed from body to body if the power is great enough.”
“Put your mind into someone else’s body?” Seven says with disgust.
“Drive them from it, take it over, make it your own.”
The chant grew to almost a shout as sweat broke out on the Vulcan’s head.
“When the Emperor was about to die, he knew he didn’t have enough time to save himself, nor did he have the time to take over a convenient body. You, Picard, and Luke were all potential recipients, but it would take several seconds for him to overpower your wills and escape, and those were seconds he didn’t have.
“He couldn’t have taken over Luke’s mind. He’s a Jedi.”
“It doesn’t matter; when the mind is weakened anyone can be susceptible. But there just wasn’t enough time. There was only one place where no will existed to resist.”
“Darth Whind,” Seven said with a whisper.
“Darth Whind. Dead, but not so far gone the Emperor could not revitalize her, to restore her enough to at least escape his imminent death. But he failed to realize how strong her link to the Force was. When he arrived, she had also returned to her own body.”
“What happened?”
“Confusion. A battle. Had it not been for that the Emperor would have destroyed Data and preserved the Death Star, but unfortunately for him they realized it was too late, and escape was the only option.”
“The transporter.”
“Yes.”
Selvik began to shake slightly as the chants echoed off the canyon walls, growing in intensity. Bubbles had already begun to appear in the fluid of the tank.
“The Emperor kept clones secreted away on the dark world of Byss,” Ben says. “But it had been too great a distance for his mind to cross in the short time he possessed, and now that both tried to occupy the same mind he lacked the power to escape from her mind and return to his body.”
“So he’s stuck inside her mind?”
“Not quite. There is one way to free two minds trapped as one.”
Inside the tank, the dark lids slowly lift.
“The Vulcans!” Seven says as it suddenly became clear. “Vulcan priests!”
“Yes. Only the most finely trained are capable of it, but it can be done. The fal-tor-pan, an act that can transfer the katra from a mind and fuse it to another body.”
The chanting peaks and ceases as the glass shatters, Darth Whind falling to her knees in exhaustion as Selvik collapses, his heart bursting under the strain. Standing amid the now kneeling forms of the cult is a single figure, his quiet cackling laugh the only sound to echo across the silent cavern. Skywalker drops down to one knee and Darth Whind adjusts her position to one of respect before him. He steps forward, a smile covering his face despite his rather pathetic appearance at the moment, because the appearance belies the power that lies within.
“And that was the evil Yoda spoke of,” Ben says grimly. “The everlasting evil that would haunt the galaxies without thought of time until at last they are too weakened to resist, and plunge all into unending darkness.”
“Now,” said the Emperor with a deep voice, a voice of judgment and impending doom, “where were we?”
Chris OFarrell wrote:This was always my fav chapter of AAO. Which is weird because I hated Dark Empire and Wankatine...but of course, Chuck turns it into Gold...
Thanks.
I guess I always have had a problem with the DE idea. It always seemed like it demeaned Vader's sacrifice and choice; the Emperor should have died, not gone off and become younger and stronger.
It's funny, but I have this habit of taking things I hate and using them, I don't know if that's some kind of weird masochism or what. I mean, the clone Emperors, Unimatrix Zero, Janeway... sometimes I wonder why I do these things.
You continue to use them because you have the power to destroy them in any number of horrendously delicious ways! I thought that much would have been obvious to you...
One thing about this I do enjoy is you've taken what is generally considered just bad...and made them into stories, not just the boogeyman.
You pointed out Unimatrix Zero and the Borg. With both you actually made them scray and competent. Your Reborn Emperor, came back and it doesn't feel bad...because it demeans no sacrifice. His demise wasn't the penultimate of your story, thus his return doesn't smack of "Ha, all you killed was a DOOMBOT!". Even Janeway figures well into this because she has a brain and you're not screaming the screen going "Dumb Bitch!"
Honestly it what makes a decent tale and one that makes you question the loss of your time and brainpower. You've done an extraordinary job with the left over bits because you breathe life into them.
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
There is a crackling of flame, a quiet background sound punctuated by the occasional pops and snaps that come with the fire. There is little other to be heard, except perhaps a distant crying, or shrieking; it’s difficult to tell in the distance. The flames are left behind to reveal cracked stone, twisted metal spires, and the presence of rubble and flames, impossible to ignore as it surrounds the landscape. Translucent feet cross the scarred surface towards a cracked building, its appearance more like a temple than anything else. The marble stairs leading up are broken here and there as her feet continue up the steps to the top.
There is a man, a giant man, carved in stone and sitting in a chair at the top. Leia had heard about this man, one who had led his people during the dark times of division and seen it united again as one land, one nation. The price had been high, but ultimately union had triumphed over division. Only now, now his face was gone, blasted away.
Before his chair lies a smaller throne, far different from the chair of the ancient statesman. It was a mound of skulls sloping together, forming a raised chair. And a small man in a black cloak stared down at her from the throne, and cackled at her.
Leia’s eyes snapped open, nearly waking her husband as she tried to shake the vision from her mind. No, no it wasn’t true, it was just a dream! The brain’s attempt to place order on the randomized signals that flashed through her unconscious mind, it wasn’t real, it wasn’t –
Aw kriff, she wasn’t fooling anyone.
As she calmed down she allowed her mind to reflect on the images. Was this the future? Was it what would actually happen, or just symbolic? Was it a warning to be on guard for the Empire? She had the feeling that it was far worse than all of that.
She got up and got a glass of water, looking into the mirror as she walked by. Residual guilt, caused by stepping down from the leadership of the Republic? The past week had taken some adjustment; her once packed life had suddenly become much more open, which had been the whole point. Still, she found it hard to let go, a point which worried her. Was it that she wanted to help, or wanted the power? Nonsense of course, but deep down she worried. Power corrupted her father, power consumed Luke.... so far, her family didn’t have the best track record in this area.
There was a beep from the computer and she moved over and answered it as Han started to slowly stir; no sense in them both being awake, she thought. She tapped the screen and looked with surprise at Annika. “Is something wrong?” she asked, noting the other woman’s serious face.
“Sorry about the time,” Seven said, “But this can’t wait.”
“Sure, what is it?”
Annika opened her mouth and hesitated. “You’re going to think I’m crazy, but you’ve got to believe me.”
“Annika,” Leia said patiently, “I trust you. Tell me what it is.”
She took a deep breath. “I have reason to believe... the Emperor is alive.”
As the information filtered into her mind, Leia’s face slowly turned from one of concern to one of horror. “The Emperor...”
“I know it’s insane-“
“I believe you, Annika,” Leia replied, her voice hoarse. “It can’t be, but it is.” She closed her eyes in the hopes that perhaps this was still the dream. No, her mind insisted, this is as real as life gets.
“I’m not sure what to do,” Annika said with a quiet desperation. “Who would believe such a thing?”
“I don’t know,” Leia said. “But if we’re right, then it seems my hope for salvation was premature. If he’s back, with Luke and Darth Whind and the full might of the Empire, I honestly don’t know how we can stop him.”
--------------------------------------------------------------
The Emperor pulled on his robe amid the prostrate forms of his followers, his smile never fading. Everything was going exactly as he had planned out with Darth Whind, and now the time was at hand to finish what they had started. “The fleet?” he asked.
“Fully manned and prepared to follow your every command to the death,” Darth Whind said. The Ebon Fleet had already shown its power through the effective elimination of the Founders’ homeworld; that act would pale compared to what the Emperor would do.
“Was there any trouble on Wayland?”
“The clone tried to stop us,” she said, but then smirked. “He was a fine challenge, but hardly a master.”
“Good.” Wayland had contained his greatest treasures: cloning tanks, cloaking devices, and other bits of technology that would make his already formidable navy unstoppable.
“What do you wish to do next, my master?” she asked.
“I must speak to the various admirals, generals, and bureaucrats who have emerged during my absence. It must be made absolutely clear who is in command of the Empire now. I will not tolerate dissent among my ranks.”
“We’ll attend to it right away, my master.” They began the long trek back to the surface, Skywalker following close behind. “Gen. Taar has succeeded in expanding into the Delta Quadrant. The Krenim fell before us with relative ease.”
“As planned,” the Emperor said. “Has the work begun?”
“Yes, but not as quickly as it should.”
“That shall be quickly remedied,” he said with a gravelly voice as they turned through the torch-lit stone stairwell. “Will this Taar need to be eliminated?”
“Highly unlikely,” she replied. “He’s content to command the fleets as long as it is in the best interest of the Empire. I’m sure he’ll be the first to accept your return, which will put pressure on the rest of the military to follow suit.”
“Good,” he said. "What of the Jedi?"
"Only Leia Solo remains," she said. "Though she has born children, twins. I suspect they will be powerful in the Force."
"I agree," he said. "Clearly they will have to be eliminated, to ensure they do not pose a threat to us." He turned to Skywalker. "This task will fall to you," the Emperor said. "They must be killed before they have the chance to interfere."
Skywalker nodded, though Mara was slightly surprised. "Surely Leia Solo is the greater threat, my master."
"I have foreseen that a child two generations removed from Vader will be a threat to us... will be the catalyst for our downfall if not dealt with. We can take no chances."
"I understand, my master," Whind said with a bow.
“Anything else I should be aware of.”
Darth Whind hesitated. “I’m afraid there is.” Her head was hung slightly in shame. “I have failed you, my master. I did not kill Sisko’s apprentice.”
“Seven of Nine still lives?” he said with a slight tone of surprise.
“Yes,” she admitted. “It is my responsibility.”
He mulled it over. “It is of no importance,” he said finally. “She is even weaker than he is. Her parlor tricks are useless against the power of the Dark side. Is that not so?” he asked Skywalker. The Sith said nothing in reply. “If she tries to interfere,” he said to Darth Whind, “kill her. As you said, she is your responsibility.”
“As you wish, my master.”
--------------------------------------------------------------
Delric Taar found General Wallace, Admiral Sunhaf, and Admiral Hellis all waiting in his office when he arrived. This didn't surprise him; he was certain they were as concerned and confused as he had been when the news of the Emperor's return had arrived. Oh, he had heard about it certainly, this Cult of the Emperor group. They had helped push the systems of their galaxy back to the Empire. He had just assumed it was all religious nonsense. He should have known better in retrospect.
"I don't like it," Hellis said. "It's very convenient for him to return now, when the work of restoring the galaxy is finished and the Milky Way crumbling before us."
"What exactly are you saying?" Taar asked.
"I'm saying that this may not be the Emperor."
"A valid concern," Sunhaf said. "Do we have any evidence one way or another?"
"Genetically he's the same," Taar said. "He submitted to a blood test to, as he put it, 'ensure there was no doubt.'"
"But what if it's a trick!" Wallace said in an almost panicked voice. "He could be one of the Founders plotting revenge for the destruction of their world!"
"Calm down," Taar rebuked him. "He's not a Founder."
"How can you know for sure?!" Wallace groaned. "They could do a lot of damage to the Empire from the inside."
"We should consider it," Sunhaf said. "It's unlikely, but frankly the idea that he's returned from the dead is more ludicrous than assuming he's a shapeshifter."
"I understand your concerns-" Taar began.
"Do you?" Hellis said. "Quite frankly you've been willing to accept everything you've been told, and I'm afraid that all of us must question your objectivity in this."
"You speak for everyone?" Taar said darkly.
"I'm sure I'm speaking what everyone is thinking," Hellis retorted. "You've been given a position of command because of all that's happened. If there are signs of dissent your world could come crashing down around you."
"That's an unjustified accusation," Sunhaf said. "Let's look at the facts instead of pursuing this irrelevant and inflammatory discussion."
"The fact is that Darth Whind has been in command of the Empire," Taar said. "Now she's stepping aside for the Emperor. She wouldn't do that unless she believed he was who he said he was, and no shapeshifter could fool her."
"But what if they're working together?" Wallace said. "It could be their plan to take control-"
"Would you use your brain," Sunhaf said with disgust. "She already has control of the Empire."
"Yes, but the people would stand behind the Emperor more readily than behind her. They fear him, and everyone knows it."
"Darth Whind is a Sith," Taar pointed out. "And no one can fake that. You either are or you aren't. I know it's unbelievable, but I think the Emperor truly has returned, and if it's true, it could mean a new dawn for the Empire."
"I don't know about that," Hellis said. "He caused a great deal of grief for us. Wasting resources on the Death Stars, that silly campaign in the Alpha Quadrant, his anti-alien bias that could hurt our expansion into new territories-"
"But our leader nonetheless," Taar said. "If you don't like it the rebellion is recruiting."
Hellis' eyes narrowed at him. "So you stand on the side of decay."
"I stand on the side of union," Taar replied. "I watched the Empire crumble through division once, I will not watch it happen again."
After that was more repetition, but in the end it seemed they would grudgingly accept the Emperor for now. Taar leaned on his desk with weary after they left, his mind floating randomly but ultimately returning to the question: "Why am I here?" Not in the philosophical sense; he was never one for introspection. But he had to wonder why he had ever allowed this change to occur. He hadn't flown a starship in months, and his hands itched for a flightstick. It was so much simpler, so much cleaner. You found your target and you destroyed it. No worries, no concerns over the political ramifications; those were someone else's concerns. You just did your job and left the big picture to someone else. And now that someone else was him, and he didn't like it. His decisions meant life or death for billions. The loss of pilots, pilots like him, weighed on his conscience as he tried to justify his choices. And if that wasn't enough of a problem, there was the aggravation of political maneuvering among the upper echelons of the military. He hated every moment of that, despising the pointless battle for more control over a force that should be united.
Taar sighed wearily. Thrawn... is this your revenge from the grave? To condemn me to live this joyless existence? It was you who started me on this road? Did you know it would happen? You knew everything else, after all. Did you know by killing you I'd ruin my life?
--------------------------------------------------------------
Seven gave the panel a dirty look as she ran the simulation for the fifth time, again watching the results. It shouldn’t have been too surprising, the data had been collected second-hand and transmitted across the quadrant, but still... Scowling, she turned to another nearby display as she checked the DNA resequencing; nothing substantial, but it did provide a bit more of a piece to the puzzle. Maybe with a little more work she could piece together a complete genetic fingerprint; it’d be a start anyway.
She re-checked the instrumentation and hoped that the sixth time was the charm as she uploaded the modified version of the data. Another negative reply cause a low growl of frustration in the back of her throat, and she looked off with obvious deliberation, finally reaching a decision. She keyed up the communications and transmitted the signal to Earth. After a little while C-3PO’s face appeared. “Oh, commander.”
“Hi Threepio,” she said with a friendly tone. She got along pretty well with droids, and wasn’t as put off as some others are by the overt politeness of some. They couldn’t help the way they were programmed, she felt, and if they’re going to be given personality, it’s better to be nice than an asshole. “I need to speak to Han, if he’s around.”
“Oh yes, he’s with young Jaina right now, but I’m sure he’ll speak to you.”
“It’s pretty important,” she said.
A few minutes later Han’s face appeared. “Hi Seven, any luck?”
“I received the transmission from Corran Horn,” she confirmed, “but it looks like there was some signal degradation. If you could send another copy of it I can confirm some more accurate results.”
“Absolutely,” Han said. He fumbled around for a while and pulled out an isolinear chip and slid it into the computer. “Transmission commencing,” he said with a sound of exhaustion. “How close are you?”
“I might be able to get a complete DNA fingerprint,” she said as she watched the information start to trickle in. “But don’t get your hopes up; I’ve had to piece it together from the various samples.”
“We really appreciate this Seven,” Han said as he rubbed his eyes.
“He was my family too,” she replied sincerely. “How are the twins?”
“Hungry,” Han said wearily. “And they don’t seem to quite grasp the concept of a chronometer.”
She laughed. “I can imagine.” A small chime indicated the upload was complete. “Han, I’m nearly finished. You want to hold the transmission while I look over the results?”
“Sure,” he replied with a stifled yawn.
Seven crossed over to one of her terminals and ran through the samples, shaking her head. “A few more pieces, but still incomplete I’m afraid. Still, if you find a suspect, this can be used to help identify him or her.”
“If only we knew who to suspect.”
“Or who not to,” Seven replied. She looked curiously at the screen. “That’s strange.”
“What?”
“There were Borg nanoprobes at the site?”
“Yeah, didn’t you get that information?”
“No,” she said as she furrowed her brow and looked at the image. “I most certainly would’ve checked into that.” Her hands flew over the panels as the model appeared. “I’m going to do a scan, maybe we can find some information about its origin.”
“You can do that?” Han asked curiously.
“Nanoprobes contain a wide variety of information about their point of origin,” Seven said. “It allows... allowed, the Borg to detect the remains of lost ships and drones more effectively.” She finished her instructions and the computer began dissecting the nanoprobe information for the encoding. “This may take a minute or two.”
“I’ll wait,” Han said. “Any idea how they could have got there?”
“The most likely answer would be a former drone,” she said. “Vader was killed in a battle, it’s possible a drone was injured.”
“How strong is a Borg?” Han asked.
“Not strong enough for what you’re thinking,” she said. “Even with a sledgehammer I couldn’t have done that kind of damage. Borg are strong, but not monster strong.”
“Well something out there sure is. What packs the kind of punch to penetrate a reinforced plastoid armor facemask?”
Her eyes widened. “There is Species 8472.”
“I thought they were all gone?”
“Assimilated, yes, but like everyone else they were freed from the collective. It’s possible they could have been strong enough to cause this much damage.”
“Really?”
“Through the Collective I saw one toss four drones like paper dolls,” she said. “I can certainly see.... except one thing.”
“What?”
“The DNA. This is Terran, that much we know for certain.”
“Well maybe the Terran was working with Species 8472.”
“No, that wouldn’t happen. Species 8472 is extremely xenophobic, they’d never do that.”
“Maybe assimilation changed them more than we thought. Right now they seem our best suspect.”
“I suppose-“ the computer chimed. “The scan is complete.” She punched it up, and her eyes widened. “Han,” she said with worry in her tone, “Han are you sure this data is right?”
“It came straight from Corran,” he said. “Not transmitted, it came on the last shuttle.”
“100% certain?”
“Yes,” he said with curiosity. “Why, what is it?”
Her eyes were glued to the screen with disbelief. “These nanoprobes... they’re mine.”
Lt. Commander Seven of Nine looked over the readouts yet again, just in case she'd missed something. Naturally, she hadn't. There was no question that the nanoprobes found at the site of Vader's murder matched her own. The only one more surprised by this information was Han Solo. “What do you mean?” he asked. “How can they be yours?”
“I don’t know,” she said in confusion. “I suppose the possibility exists that they came from one of the other members of my subjunction...”
“What subjunction?” he asked.
“I am Seven of Nine,” she said. “There are eight others in my subjunction whose nanoprobes are identical to my own. I suppose it is possible that they were present...”
“Only,” Han prompted.
“Only the odds of eight out of hundreds of trillions of drones happening to be present when my father-in-law is killed strains the laws of probability.”
“I’d say,” Han agreed. “But what’s the alternative? You obviously didn’t do it.”
“No,” she said, but hesitated. Terran DNA had been found at the scene. Her hands shaking slightly, she tapped up a scan of the “fingerprint” and compared it. She let out a sigh of relief. “No,” she said confidently, “I wasn’t there.”
“You had to take a minute to check?”
“Spoken like someone who’s never been possessed by an alien lifeform,” she said simply as she went back to looking at the sample. “No, it wasn’t me, or at least this isn’t my DNA. And since I have no memory of being there, and that I wasn’t in the gamma quadrant at the time-“
“I think you’re clear as a suspect,” Han said. “But does that mean it’s a coincidence after all? All this shows is that your nanoprobes were there.”
“That’s true,” Seven admitted. The more she thought about it, the more worried she became. “And I have given out two samples of my nanoprobes. One was to Starfleet Medical to run some examination tests and to look for their potential therapeutic use. The other was to the Doctor on Voyager.”
“So it’s possible that they got the nanoprobes from either of those sources,” Han said. “Given that we know a Terran was present, that would seem more likely.”
“Yes,” Seven agreed. “The other members of my subjunction weren’t Terran. There was a Bajoran, but other than that they weren’t even from the Alpha Quadrant.”
“Which begs the question, why would they have your nanoprobes there?”
Seven mulled it over. “Nanoprobes have three uses: assimilation, micro-construction, and repair of damaged tissues. Clearly the first one is out, since the Borg are out of business.”
“Could someone be using the nanoprobes as a rejuvenator?” Han asked. “Something to keep them healthy and strong.”
“Possible,” she admitted. “But I don’t think so. It’s been theorized, but no real movement has been made in that direction. Even with my control it’s beyond my abilities right now.” She had a revelation. “Oh my.”
“What?”
“There is an alternative we didn’t consider,” she said. “Maybe Vader isn’t dead.”
“Actually,” Han said, “We did consider that. But the body matches the DNA and the suit is his own, we’re sure of it. And obviously, he can’t survive without his suit.”
“Yes,” Seven said anxiously, “Because of injuries he suffered years ago that make him dependent upon it. But what if he was healed.”
“He can’t be healed,” Han replied dismissively. “The damage was so extreme, you’d have.... to....”
“Yes,” Seven finished. “You’d have to completely restore the damaged tissues on the cellular level, such as with the use of nanite technology.” She thought as Han sat speechless. “Of course, it’s just a theory; one that fits the facts, but not easily proven.”
“His lightsaber was missing,” Han said quietly. “If he wasn’t dead... He’d take it with him wouldn’t he?” He considered. “But what about the body.”
“A clone,” she said.
“We don’t clone people.”
“This is in the gamma quadrant, remember?” she replied. “You can’t swing a dead nerf without hitting a clone. It’d be easy enough.”
“Why would he do it?”
“Well, we know he was being pursued by the Cardassians and assorted bounty hunters. He might have done it to leave it all behind, start a new life somewhere.”
“It’s a stretch Annika,” Han said.
“I know,” she replied. She tapped into the library and pulled up the database on Vader, searching until she came across one of the last pictures taken before he went to Mustafar. A chill passed through her; she could see so much of Luke in his expression... You are your father's son, she thought. I just hope it doesn't take you twenty years to turn back too.
“Okay,” she said, focusing on the task at hand. “Let’s add another twenty-five years and see what we get.” She tapped the keys and a man appeared before her. He was tall, nearly two meters, with blondish-brown hair and broad shoulders. “If I’m right,” she said, “He’d look pretty close to this.” She transmitted the picture to Han.
“It’s still a stretch Seven,” he said. “And it still doesn’t explain everything. Why crack his helmet like that?”
“To make it look like a fight,” Seven said. “The Dark Lord of the Sith doesn’t fall over from a heart attack.”
“And there’s the burnt body we found.”
“Perhaps the first clone failed to grow properly,” she said. “Or perhaps whoever brought the nanoprobes tried to double cross him, and he had to kill them. But it would definitely explain who turned on the distress signal, and why.”
“To attract attention,” Han said, “So they’d see he was dead.”
“Exactly. I’m going to cross-reference this with other DNA records among Starfleet personnel; maybe it’ll lead us in the right direction.”
“Make sure to take a look at the Voyager crew,” Han said. “It could have been one of them.”
Seven hesitated. “Yes,” she admitted. Means and opportunity; she had to check out all possible individuals, even if she didn’t think they were a suspect. “I’ll keep you up to date.”
Han cut the connection, but Seven leaned back against the panel as she thought. It made sense, of course, it was the best theory they had so far. The question was to see whether or not she could disprove it and move on to a different idea, or whether further evidence would continue to support it. But she couldn’t shake the nagging feeling.
There was one other person who had access to her nanoprobes, though she wouldn't dare mention it to anyone. To be safe, she had always deactivated her nanoprobes whenever she was intimate, even though the possibility of sexual transmission was virtually nil. Still, even improbable events could still happen. He was capable of defeating Darth Vader, and he'd been witnessed using a red lightsaber. “Well, Luke,” she wondered aloud, “did you finally do it? Did you cross the line and kill your own father?”
--------------------------------------------------------------
Everyone shifted uneasily under the gaze of the Emperor, or the man presumed to be the Emperor. It certainly looked like him, and he had that menacing quality that had characterized the Emperor, and in that regards there was little difference whether this was the real Emperor or an impostor; whomever it was set their teeth on edge.
Darth Whind, as had been pointed out, had accepted him as the Emperor, and she should know. That was the most reassuring part of the whole thing; no one could pretend to be the Emperor without being noticed by her. And given what they had done to previous shapeshifters who'd invaded Imperial ranks, anyone foolish enough to try it would have been found out quickly. In fact, the Founders themselves were the subject of the discussion.
"It's my understanding," said the Emperor, "that the Founders' homeworld was destroyed, killing nearly all of them."
"Yes, your highness," said Darth Whind. No one remarked on it, or the whys and wherefores. Everyone knew Darth Whind was responsible, but no one could prove it, nor did they really wish to.
"Why have they not collapsed, as previously theorized?"
"We had assumed," said Gen. Taar, "that by killing the Founders the Dominion would be destroyed. However, a few had survived off planet, and thus the supplies of ketracel white have been maintained."
"Most unfortunate," the Emperor remarked with displeasure.
"On the contrary," said Gen. Wallace, showing an uncharacteristic shade of courage. Or perhaps it was to prevent the conversation from getting around to the laying of blame. "The Dominion is less organized and more erratic. They've been annihilating nearby worlds and disrupting the entire quadrant. They lost a substantial force in an assault on the Republic, whom they blamed for the carnage on their homeworld. I think we can turn this situation to our advantage."
"Like we did with the Borg," said Admiral Sunhaf.
"Exactly. We can easily stop any Dominion assaults at this point, and I'm sure a large number of systems would rather accept our authority than be destroyed in these brutal unprovoked attacks."
"This would also allow us a foothold to begin a full invasion of the Gamma Quadrant at a later time," observed Admiral Hellis.
"Let's not be too hasty," cautioned General Taar. "We don't want to overextend our forces. We've only just finished establishing control of the Delta Quadrant, and I'm not convinced either the Hirogens or the Malon will just quietly accept our authority. We need to have ships on hand to quell any rebellions, and spreading ourselves too thin would be too great a risk."
"I agree with the general," said Admiral Sunhaf. "We need to move cautiously. I suggest we continue to maintain a sizable portion of our fleet in the Delta Quadrant to deal with any unrest. In the meantime, we'll extend our protection to the Gamma Quadrant and let our hold solidify. Once the Delta Quadrant is firmly entrenched we can shift to a Dominion offensive."
"I think that both of you are overestimating the power of the Delta Quadrant races," Hellis said. "They were crushed easily enough. The Krenim, the Malon, the Heirarchy and the Kazon all crumpled within a week of our initial attack, and all Hirogen attacks have been repelled without exception."
"Yes, because of the presence of the fleet," Sunhaf said. "Remove them and the threat will continue. The Hirogen aren't like other races, they're not tied together on planets, they have no established government. Each is a fleet unto itself, and that is the danger. You cannot just defeat them once and subjugate them, you must continually be on guard against them."
"Nomads are historically weak," Hellis said.
"Yes, because of a technological gap. The gap in this case is not as great as we would like, at least to allow a small garrison to fight off a sizable attack force. I'll remind you that the best method of dealing with traditional nomadic warriors is walled fortresses and strong defenses. We would be fools to underestimate them."
"I've heard enough," said the Emperor, drawing the discussion to an immediate close. He didn't even raise his voice; the simple declarative statement was all that was required. "For now. We must focus on this Hirogen situation in greater detail, to decide on what is to be done with them. For now, I believe it's time to escalate the Beta Quadrant activity."
"Actually, your highness," said Hellis, "I had wanted to comment on that. It appears that a new element has been introduced that has shifted the power in that area. The Republic-"
"I'm aware of the Republic's recent acquisitions," the Emperor interrupted. "It is my will that the tensions in the Beta Quadrant be escalated. Now."
Admiral Hellis seemed conflicted. "I am sure you are aware," he said finally, with a very slow and deliberate tone, "that the purpose of the activity was to further divide and eventually dissolve the Alliance. With the changes that have occurred I fear a conflict could result in a strengthening of the union, one which could set us back further."
There was the kind of silence one experiences when it seems as if the universe has stopped, the kind where one could actually hear the blood passing near the ear canal. "I only wish to keep you informed of the situation," Hellis said finally. "It is my sworn duty to serve you in safeguarding the Empire.”
The Emperor’s glare was unwavering. “You doubt,” he said finally, his voice capable of freezing helium. There were anxious looks between the two, and Hellis found himself squirming under the stare despite his earlier resolve.
He was thrown out of his chair by the lightning that crossed the table, rolling several meters across the floor. His body was smoking slightly as he returned shakily to his feet, his eyes wide with uncharacteristic fear, waiting for the finishing blow. The dozen or so others in the room were motionless; there was no appealing to them for intervention. Even Darth Whind seemed uncertain. The Emperor’s upraised hands lowered as he pointed to the chair. “Sit down,” he said, the menace gone. “I trust you have been convinced?”
Hellis moved uncertainly to the chair, trying to straighten his hat and uniform. “I – I apologize for doubting, your highness.” He sat and refused to even look at any of the others.
“Now,” said the Emperor, each ear fixed on his every word, “I want the situation in the Beta Quadrant escalated. The Alliance must and will fall; and it will happen now.”
--------------------------------------------------------------
Sebastian rubbed his face and then the back of his head with a towel as Seven finished off her container of nutrients. He could sense her disgust from here, and her disappointment; this was the third time now that she failed to hit him even once during one of their workout sessions, and while she wasn’t as angry as she had been the first time, there was no mistaking her frustration.
“Interested in katiskat?” he asked as he adjusted the strap on his right boot.
“Not today,” she said as she grabbed her things. “I have a lot of work to catch up on, and then I need to look over some information for Han.”
“What kind of information?”
“He’s investigating the death of his father-in-law, Vader.”
“Really?”
“I’m not sure if we can ever find out who killed him,” Seven admitted, “but it’s worth a shot. I owe them enough to offer any insights I can.”
“Understood,” he said. “Although I wouldn’t worry too much about it; it’d be easier to make a list of people who didn’t want him dead than who would want to kill him. You'll never find out who’s responsible.”
“You’re probably right,” she admitted, “but we have to try.”
“I can see why Ben chose you,” he said with a smile, “you enjoy charging windmills as much as he does.”
She smiled back and left the holodeck, and a short while after he did as well. He was a bit surprised to hear the door chime in his quarters as he was getting ready to take a shower. He pulled his shirt back on and said “Come in.” A woman entered, a little on the small side with dark hair. It took only a moment for him to put it together. “You’re Lt. Comm. Borui,” he said.
“Very good,” Borui said. “Very insightful. I was wondering if I could have a moment of your time, mister....”
“You can call me Sebastian,” he said as he pointed to a chair, taking a seat on the couch himself. “You’re the counselor?”
“Yes,” she said as she sat down. “And I’d like to discuss something with you if you don’t mind.”
“I suppose that would be all right, considering how generous your captain has been in letting me stay on board.”
“He could hardly refuse an order,” she said, “though it was a rather unusual request." Sebastian offered his poker face to her. "I noticed you spend quite a bit of time with Seven. How long have you known her?”
He hesitated. “We were introduced through a mutual friend a couple of months ago,” he said finally.
“Who was he?”
“I’d prefer not to say, if you don’t mind.”
“That’s fine,” she said. “I don’t know if you’re aware, but I’m a Betazoid; I can sense emotions.”
“Really.”
“I’ve noticed you around the ship before of course,” she said. “I’ve noticed you around her.” She paused. “You care for her, don’t you.”
He nodded. “She’s my friend.”
“Yes, but it’s more than that. I can sense a strong concern for her. You’re protective, and you want to please her.”
He smiled. “Annika was right.”
“About what?”
“She said you like to go poking around in other people’s business uninvited. Whatever my feelings are, they’re mine.”
“Yes,” she agreed, “But you have to admit that my observations are correct.”
“Is there a point to all this?” he said finally with an air of annoyance.
“I think you know. She likes you as well.”
“Do tell.”
“She needs someone right now,” Borui said. “She’s undergone severe emotional strain over the past year. You two can provide each other with so much-“
“Her heart,” he interrupted, “belongs to someone else.”
“Yes,” Borui said, “to a man who isn’t coming back. A man who tried to kill her.”
“But a man she loves nonetheless,” he said. “Anyway, I find this discussion quite inappropriate. Please leave.”
She stood up. “Consider it,” she said.
“Consider it considered.”
She started to turn and then stopped. “There’s something wrong,” she said finally.
“Whatever do you mean?”
“Something’s bothering you,” she said turning back. “I can feel it rumbling beneath the surface.”
“Please leave my mind alone,” he said. He felt her sensing; not probing, but aware. Don’t think about it, he said to himself; no one can know. Her eyes widened as she saw into his mind and he cursed himself for allowing it to happen. He couldn’t let Seven know, not now. Borui’s commbadge flew across the room into his hand as his lightsaber came to the other and ignited. She had started rushing for the door but he grabbed her arm and twisted, tossing her onto the floor with strength on par with a Vulcan, the blade hovering over her face as she looked up at him; he could sense her fear.
“Satisfied,” he said with disgust. “You can’t leave things well enough alone, can you.”
“It's not possible," Borui said with disbelief.
“Whether you believe it or not, you know too much,” he said, the blade steady as rock in his grip.
“So what will you do? Kill me?” she asked. He could sense she feared the answer.
Sebastian stared at her for some time, the only sound her panicked breathing. Finally he grabbed her head with his right hand and her eyes rolled up in their sockets. It’s a Jedi skill, the erasing of memories; not easy, but it can be done. Better than killing her anyway. He had no choice; she’d talk, and that was something he couldn’t allow. Too much was at stake now, too much that could go wrong if others knew the truth about him... about what he really was.
Arrow wrote:Damn damn damn! You had to let Borui live, didn't you?
Sure, this time.
Remember that I've killed Data, Tom Paris, Deanna Troi and Vader... it's a running gag for this series that main characters die with ease. Since Borui isn't even a real character, there's no telling if she'll be offed in the next chapter or not.
Well, it only appears you've killed Vader (I haven't read the previous version of the story, and I've yet to read the stories that follow this, except for a chapter here or there).
Arrow wrote:Damn damn damn! You had to let Borui live, didn't you?
Sure, this time.
Remember that I've killed Data, Tom Paris, Deanna Troi and Vader... it's a running gag for this series that main characters die with ease. Since Borui isn't even a real character, there's no telling if she'll be offed in the next chapter or not.
You yourself have admitted you've got something of a masochistic streak when it comes to fic writing. I wouldn't be surprised if the bitch lived till the ripe of age of 100.
"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
Sonnenburg wrote:What's the point of writing about the characters I love if I don't have the chance to slaughter them like sheep?
Usually "something exploding" works as a decent distraction.
Mind you, I'm certainly not trying to distract you now - so I won't tell you that I'm reading every updated chapter, and still avoiding reading the stories in your original trilogy in favor of (impatiently) waiting for them to be rewritten.
Excellent stuff so far, and I look forward to another chapter (or two) tomorrow.
Monday: 27 & 28 (with the latter being appropriate for a Memorial Day)
Tuesday: 29
Wednesday: 30 (the big event)
And after that, even the long-time readers aren't going to know everything, because most of Act III has gone through a substantial revision (if you read between the lines in DOF you might have an inkling of one of those items).
In the consideration of the grand scope of the galaxy, one often fails to realize just how much empty space there is. This is probably due to the nature of humanoid space travel, that of crossing with a speed far, far greater than light to go from one star system to another, putting little to no thought into the sheer amount of nothingness that lies between them. It was a perfect place for the Dominion to house a starport away from prying eyes; five light-years from the nearest star, an insignificant dot that wouldn’t appear on most sensors even if they were pointed right at it. The isolation was a perfect defense.
The drawback was that reliable defense from outside sources was virtually nonexistent.
As a horde of battleships and fighters swarmed about the sky seemed to transform around them, or rather, changed shape. The black star destroyers opened fire, catching the station and starships completely off guard. Turbolasers and torpedoes tore into their hulls, shredding them without mercy. The Jem’hadar quickly rallied and pressed a counter-attack, but against the onslaught it was hopeless.
Less than an hour after their arrival the black ships vanished back into nothing, leaving nothing but swirls of dust to fill the spaces between the stars.
--------------------------------------------------------------
There was a noticeable tension on the bridge of the USS Enterprise, flagship of the Federation. The quadrant had been steadily moving towards a conflict, and now it seemed that a full-scale war between the Klingons and the Romulans was inevitable. And a war would mean drawing in the Federation, on the side of the Romulans no less. Oh they were allies to be sure, but the decades of animosity didn't make the thought of fighting to defend them very palatable, especially against the Klingons.
All of this was troubling enough, especially since the Enterprise had been maintaining a presence near the border to hopefully ease tensions, or rather, to remind everyone involved that a war was not going to go unanswered. But now, when it seemed the situation was ready to explode, they were being called back, and the question was why. Captain Riker had his guesses, like maybe the Federation wasn't going to defend the Romulans after all. He hoped that wasn't going to be the case; he had been there when the Romulan fleet helped stop the Borg at great personal loss. He hated to admit it, but they owed the Romulans one, and if they did turn their backs it would be a grave injustice.
They came out of hyperspace and drifted into orbit near Utopia Planetia. A few minutes later his senior officers boarded the main construction facility for the Federation's primary shipyard. Admiral Jellico was waiting, all smiles. "How is the Enterprise holding up?" he asked with obvious interest.
"She's a thing of beauty," Riker said in as pleasant a voice as he could maintain with Jellico.
"Any problems?"
"Nothing we couldn't tweak away," said Lt. Comm. Sullice.
"Glad to hear it," Jellico said, gesturing for them to follow. "You've had the Enterprise for some time now, taken it against Borg and Imperials; you know the systems inside and out. I need your input to help us complete the next stage of starship design."
"We'll do what we can," said Laforge, "but I'm not sure how much we can provide that your engineers don't already know."
"Your field experience can help us tremendously. After the Enterprise was launched we decided it was time to move forward with something rather ambitious."
"What do you mean, 'ambitious?'" Riker asked uncertainly.
"We've been incorporating Republic technology into our ships for years, but the time we felt had come to start over with a clean piece of paper and incorporate the best of both."
"I'm surprised Starfleet would authorize such a radical departure," Sullice said.
"Well, we started during the Borg difficulty, which helped convince them that new steps were required to deal with the threat. Even though that threat has been eliminated, we've invested too much time and materials into it to back off now."
"With the recent increase in Imperial expansion," Seven remarked, "it would certainly be prudent to have something that would put us on a more even playing field."
"My sentiments exactly," Jellico said. He ground to a stop. "I won't lie to you," he said, "there is still some opposition to this project. But I believe this is just what we need to move into this new era with confidence. The Federation has been standing still for far too long, refusing to involve itself in galactic affairs. Well, the galaxy is a lot smaller than it used to be, and it's in trouble. We need to be ready to lead it into a new era of peace."
"No offense intended, admiral," said Riker, "but I'm not too sure I like where this is going."
"It's plain to see what's happening," he replied. "Imperial expansion going unchecked in the Delta Quadrant; how can we allow that to happen? They march into our territory and abduct Federation citizens and we send in the diplomats to talk very sternly with them?"
"It's not as if we could just send in the fleet and blast them," Laforge pointed out.
"No, but as a former diplomat I can tell you that diplomacy works best from a position of strength. We need to change to fit the new galaxy. Look at the Gamma Quadrant; they're being annihilated! Dominion forces are attacking planets at random, even some of their own worlds."
"Yes," said Dr. Crusher with obvious concern, "It's very tragic. But the Prime Directive is clear."
Jellico's energy seemed to fade for a moment. "Maybe it's time to reconsider the Prime Directive as well."
Riker was the first to find his voice. "Admiral, the Prime Directive has been our bedrock principle for centuries. Current circumstances can't justify abandoning it."
"Maybe," Jellico said. "But I saw the results of the Imperial and Dominion attacks over the past several months, and I find it difficult to justify."
"It's never easy," Riker remarked, "but we cannot abandon our principles because of personal discomfort."
Jellico was silent for a moment. "But I have found myself wondering of late, if it goes against my conscience, how can it be right? Should our principles run counter to our gut instincts of right and wrong?"
"Sometimes it's necessary," Dr. Crusher said. "A right may result in a wrong, but that doesn't make our choice any less right."
"I'm afraid we'll have to just disagree for the moment," said Jellico as they came around the corner. "The Protector demands our immediate attention."
All discussion ground to a halt as they looked at the ship under construction beyond the viewport. "You did all this in less than two years?" Laforge said in disbelief.
"It was inspiration," Jellico said with pride.
"It took twenty years to get the Enterprise from design to launch," Riker said.
"Yes, but we didn't have twenty years to deal with the Borg," said Jellico with a smile. "In any case, she's not ready, and won't be ready for some time."
The ship was staggering in size, at least twelve hundred meters in length. Like the Defiant-class ships, the nacelles were incorporated into the structure instead of extending away from the ship. It was only a third as wide at the base as it was long, and its completed surfaces flowed together smoothly into a flared shape.
"I want to discuss the phaser cannon in particular," said Adm. Jellico as Riker and Laforge continued with him. The rest of the officers continued watching the ship and its construction.
"Well," said Sullice, "It certainly is big. Probably an engineering nightmare."
"You want to have it," said Borui.
"Oh my yes," she said with a little smile. "Very much."
"Interesting design," said Dr. Crusher.
"Indeed," said Borui. "Dr. Freud, report to Platform 1." There was a small snicker.
"Hmm," said Seven, "spoken like someone who's had to settle for runabouts."
--------------------------------------------------------------
The fleet wasn’t very impressive, all things considered. It didn't soar mightily through the skies, rank after rank of warships bristling with unimaginable firepower. It was not the fleet that songs were sung about, nor a fleet that could be pointed to as being glorious and honorable. But there was an old Klingon saying: there is no greater honor than victory. So for that reason a dozen or so battleships decloaked near the Romulan world of Anhora 2 without warning. They bombed the planet without mercy, indiscriminately blasting the world for nearly half an hour before withdrawing. It was enough to cause widespread destruction and loss of life and to instill fear into the Romulans. The message of the Klingons was simple: this is our space; back off, or we'll do it again.
The tension had reached the critical point, and the die was cast. All out war between the two empires was just beginning. All that remained was to see who would surrender, and would there be anything left to claim for a victory.
--------------------------------------------------------------
“Seven of Nine, report to Ten Forward,” came the voice of the computer.
Seven opened one eye and it swiveled about. Her face was pressed into a pillow, making the entire process rather difficult. “Computer,” came a muffled voice from somewhere beneath the pillow, “what is the time?”
“05:00,” came the even reply.
Several expletives were drowned out by the pillow until she finally pulled herself out of bed and started getting dress. The disadvantage of sleep over regeneration, she had learned, was the nature of sleep. On the whole it was inefficient, but it felt so much more human; right now it felt pretty lousy.
“Seven of Nine, report to Ten Forward.”
“Piss off,” she rumbled as she finished pulling on her uniform, stifling a yawn. This is going to blow her entire day, she knew it. Finally slipping her boots on she left the quarters and marched through the sleeping ship towards the turbolift. Moments later she found Ben behind the Ten Forward bar mixing up drinks. “This had better be important,” she said testily.
“I thought it’d be good to discuss the next stage of your development,” he said as he continued mixing. “I know Sebastian beat you yesterday again. That’s six times now-“
“I am damn well aware how many times it’s been,” she said. She sighed and rubbed the exhaustion from her eyes. “What are you doing?” she asked finally.
“Thought you might need a little eye opener,” he said.
“Your compassion knows no bounds,” she said dryly.
"Let's talk about destiny," Ben said as he placed the drink before her.
"What about it?" Seven asked.
"Well, what's your opinion of it?"
"My opinion? Well, I suppose you can say that I think it's a load of rubbish," she replied as she took the glass and sipped it.
"And why is that?"
"You sound like Borui," Seven said.
"I think you're avoiding the question."
"I don't believe in destiny," Seven said finally, "because it takes away free will. It says that all things are inevitable, and that simply isn't so."
"Why?"
"Because if it were, then logically no one can be held responsible for their actions. We would have no control, we would be only doing what destiny laid out for us, and the end result would be chaos because we can attribute every evil to destiny."
"I understand," Ben said nodding. "But there's more to it, isn't there?" Seven said nothing. "You like being in control of your situation. It's part of what kept you from embracing your emotions for so long; emotions are difficult to control."
"Now you definitely sound like Borui," Seven said dismissively.
Ben reached under the counter and pulled out a small box, opening the end and spilling the contents on the bar. Playing cards, Seven noticed. He showed them to her and then shuffled them several times, then spread them out on the bar face down. "Pick one," he said.
Seven sighed with impatience but took a card and looked at it. "Three of hearts," Ben said.
"Is that suppose to impress me?" Seven said. "Conjurers do this trick all the time."
"Maybe," Ben said. "But I know the next card you pick will be a club."
She grabbed another card, the jack of clubs. "It proves nothing."
"Next a heart," Ben said without missing a beat. She pulled out the ten of hearts. "The next card has no suit," he said as he reached under the bar and mixed up a drink for himself."
"That's ridiculous," she began as she pulled out another card. "Hoyle's rules of poker" it said on the top, with a listing of card hands below. She looked at him with suspicion.
"Next will be the ace of diamonds," Ben said, not even looking at her. She looked at the card in wonder as she pulled it out. "Then the five of spades."
She dropped the card on the table. "Okay," she said, "I admit I don't get the trick. How can you do this?"
"What you have to accept, Annika, is that destiny and free will are not diametrically opposed to one another. The choices are yours to make, it's just that the outcome is already known. It's already happened, from a certain point of view."
"You and Darth Whind speak of destiny as if it has a plan laid out."
"That’s...” Ben hesitated. “It’s accurate, and yet it’s not.”
“Well, that clears everything up,” she said as she took a sip.
“Don’t think of it as being like a will,” Ben said. “Think of it as more like a force, a direction. We’re all carried along as if on a tide.”
“I’m sorry,” Seven interrupted, “I can’t buy that. Fate is just the retroactive explanation for fortune, good or bad. It’s an excuse.”
“Your next two cards will be the three of clubs and the nine of clubs.”
Seven grabbed a card and saw the three of clubs, and tossed it down dismissively. “I can’t accept this,” she said.
“You don’t accept what you see with your own eyes?”
“I don’t accept that my life is laid out before me and that I have no control over it.”
“But you do,” Ben insisted. “Stop thinking that they’re mutually exclusive, they’re not.”
“It’s not true,” Seven said defiantly.
“What is it?” Ben asked after a short while. “This isn’t you, Annika. You’ve always been fairly open-minded, now-”
“It’s just superstition!” Seven replied. “Fate is no more real than Santa Claus or the Easter Bunny.”
“Why do you resist this so strongly?” he asked.
“Because!” she shouted, but then hesitated. “Because I can’t accept it.”
“Accept what?”
She wasn’t looking at him, just playing with her drink. There was a quiet pinging sound as the metallic strands on her hand connected with the glass. “If it’s true, then I’ve lost him.”
“Luke?”
She nodded grimly. “’Every reality,’ she had said. Every one she gets Luke, and I don’t. If what you’re saying is true, then it’s over. All this waiting for something that will never happen.”
Ben nodded. “Let’s suppose that I flipped a coin and asked you to call it, what would you say?”
“I don’t know,” Seven said, dismissing it. “Tails.”
“Except,” Ben said, “I neglected to mention that it’s a two-headed coin.”
“Well, then I guess I lose,” Seven said with little interest.
“Yes, you would. Except that, somewhere, in some reality, it would come up tails.”
She chortled. “That’s impossible.”
“No,” Ben replied. "Because sometimes, even things that aren't suppose to happen, are impossible to happen, must take place, and forces will make them happen. It's happened here before; you would never have met Luke if it hadn't."
“What are you talking about?”
“You’ve been studying Vader’s death,” Ben said, “but you know nothing of his birth?”
“No,” Seven said. “How is that relevant?”
“He was conceived without a father,” Ben said.
“Artificial insemination?”
“No, he just came to be.”
“Impossible.”
“Do you really think that the rules of the universe as you understand them are the be-all and end-all of everything?”
“I put my trust in science.”
“And yet you’ve seen the laws of physics violated,” Ben said. “You’ve seen Luke lift objects with his mind in clear opposition of the third law of motion.”
“That’s not the same thing.”
“Isn’t it? Or is it that you don’t want to admit that the rules of the universe are not set in stone, that fate gets the deciding vote and sometimes, sometimes, he decides to overturn the natural laws?
“Biology, physics, chemistry, in the end they all are subject to the whim of probability. We’ve already come to view space and time like a rubber sheet, flexible concepts; is it not right to take the next step Annika? To accept that these are not hard and fast rules?”
“No,” Seven said. “You’re defying all logic and reason.”
"Because sometimes logic and reason are wrong!" Ben insisted. "Sometimes the coin comes up tails, sometimes the card has no suit, sometimes one plus one equals three."
"It's nonsense," Seven said sharply.
"It's not," Ben insisted. “Darth Whind has seen what I’ve seen, and that’s how she knows the truth. It’s also why she fears you; she knows that you just might be the exception to the rule, that you not only can take Luke back... but that you can actually beat her. And you can, but it won’t happen until you let this all go, Annika. Accept and embrace the truth.”
“The truth?” she asked. “That we’re all puppets, just going through the motions? Forget it. I don’t want any part in this, or your stupid games,” she knocked the pile of cards over onto the floor. One was wedged into the strands that ran down her hand, and she grabbed and pulled out the nine of clubs, looked at it for a second, and then threw it on the floor with the others and stormed out.
Ben sighed as he put the glass away and picked up the box. She was going to have trouble accepting it, that much was clear. He pointed the pile at the spill and the cards flew up off the floor and slid into the box, and he carefully closed it and slid it into his pocket.
)
