Star Crossed Fanfic
Moderator: LadyTevar
I'd much rather prefer to see Han KICK KIRK'S ASS.
Like Legend of Galactic Heroes? Please contribute to http://gineipaedia.com/
OKeydokey, here we go serving it up nice and hot...Chapter 19. BTW GAT's fanfic gave me this great idea about charging for these installments...... 
Chapter 19: Escape and Confrontations
Nemesis stared up at the sky, feeling the anger and fear storming overhead out of sight. However the stars were starting to peak through the blue canopy of the sky. The sun was setting and he watched it off the waters of the bay. It was really quite beautiful.
“Admiral Kittaine reports that the Federation fleet will be destroyed. He has them cornered and is positioning the fleet for the final assault.” Mara reported.
Nemesis nodded.
Mara watched him intently for a moment. He looked calm. There was still the shadow of anger on his brow, but his eyes kept looking skyward. Behind them, General Ithis was directing his troops as they moved through the wreckage of the battle field, collecting prisoners and capturing any salvageable equipment. Reports had come in across the globe of the Imperial invasion forces successes against the Federation’s defenses. The vast majority of the transports had been downed or captured. Resistance was pathetic, all save here. The Empire had suffered the most casualties in their assault on Starfleet command. Six AT ATs had been damaged or destroyed, many with troops still onboard. Three times the number they lost at Hoth, and that was against prepared defenses against a roughly technologically equal foe.
The Federation had destroyed their command center before it could be captured. Imperial computer experts and salvage teams were combing through the rubble looking for any data that could be recovered.
“If I may be so bold, my lord, it was unwise for you to come down here personally and confront the rebel leader princess Leia Organna. She is a dangerous person.”
“Precisely why I should have over seen her capture personally.” Nemesis snapped.
“Considering your past, I wonder if your feelings on this matter are clear, Lord Nemesis.”
“What did you say?” Nemesis asked his voice cold and dark as a tomb. Mara felt the force starting to wrap around her. She started exercises in her mind to help her resist the coming attack but held no illusions as to her ability to fight off the Sith Lord’s coming attack.
“The Emperor made it very clear to me that as your servant I was to watch you for any wavering in regard to Leia Organna, Han Solo or the wookie. He is well aware that you all shared strong bonds and thus it may confuse you.” She answered quickly. Suddenly she was jerked off her feet and floated above the ground by almost two meters. Nemesis watched her with eyes like ice.
“He said this to you?” He asked softly.
“I am merely fulfilling my duty to the emperor. I may be your servant by I am his Hand. Read my mind if you do not believe me.” She replied calmly, fighting the natural fear and panic that rose in her. She could feel the phantom fingers slowly pressing in on her throat.
Nemesis stared in her eyes for a long moment. The silence was occasionally broken by the sound of TIE Bombers and their Interceptor escorts flying overhead. Sometimes an explosion ripped through the sky far off past the horizon, indicating a Federation stronghold that had met its demise by TIE bombers.
Nemesis slowly brought her down to him. She hovered six inches off the ground and his eyes bore into hers. She could feel his breath on her. He watched her for a moment and suddenly leaned forward and savagely kissed her. Her eyes widened at the contact and she found herself hesitantly returning the kiss. Just as suddenly as it had begun, when she felt the passion stirring in her breast and her own heart beating hard in time with his, he broke contact with her and stared into her eyes again.
She slowly floated to the ground. She caught her breath as he gathered his cape around him.
“I believe I’ve made my feelings clear, Mara. Don’t you?” He asked and stepped away from her striding over to the makeshift command center set up on the ruined field where the battle that had destroyed Starfleet command had taken place.
Mara stared after him for the first time since this had begun unsure of herself or her mission.
“Lord Nemesis, Admiral Kittaine has relayed a message to us from Captain Tarsi. He has fought his way to the Klingon home world of Quo’nos. He is standing by awaiting orders, my lord.” A communications officer reported.
Nemesis smiled coldly.
“Relay this order to Captain Tarsi.”
The communications officer slowly nodded gravely as he heard the order and hesitantly relayed it.
“We’re getting slaughtered.” Ross spat as his ship was rocked by the death throes of another starship on his port bow. The Imperial fighters were weaving between the rapidly dwindling Starfleet task force. Ross did not want to look down at the tactical display on his command chair’s armrest. The last time he had looked, hundreds of starships, commanded by men he knew and cherished were dead.
Tac Fighters valiantly followed after the Imperial fighters, doing their best to keep them away from the big ships, but the Imperial fighters outnumbered the Tac fighters and they were simply saturating the Federation lines. TIE Bombers were making standoff attacks, attempts by Federation starships to intercept incoming proton torpedoes with explosive bursts from the quantum torpedoes were meeting with some success, however they were running into a serious problem, their torpedo bays were rapidly running out of warheads. Some starships had fired off their total load out and were relying solely on phasers. Even at the height of the Dominion war Ross had not recalled an entire fleet running out of torpedoes.
The turbolaser bursts were becoming more accurate and deadly. The Stardestroyers had been relentlessly creeping in on the Federation fleet until it became nearly impossible for Ross to order another retreat. The transports would be running right into the Imperial fleet.
The first bit of good news in a long time was announced by his communications officer.
“Admiral Ross, we have confirmation that the transports are away. They will rendezvous with us in two minutes.”
“Good, inform the fleet to form up in an attack wedge, we’re going to punch our way through the Imperial left wing and warp out of here.”
“Sir, the Imperial left wing just got reinforcements, four star destroyers have formed up in the center and fighters are beginning to fall back to standby positions at the extreme left of the wing.”
“They know.” Ross muttered, feeling the first irresistible cold talons of defeat digging into his gut.
“The Enterprise is warning us that the Imperial right wing is beginning to collapse on us sir.”
“They mean to squeeze us. We have no choice but to run that gauntlet.” Ross concluded with a somber tone. “What’s the status on the transports?”
“The transports have formed up in the center sir.”
“How many?”
“Thirteen, sir.”
“Thirteen?!” Ross hissed in utter horror. The Federation had over a hundred transports ready for liftoff when this attack began.
“We lost the presidential transport as well sir.”
Ross lowered his head slightly. The president insisted on being on the last transport out. He took a breath and stood up, taking a place between the helm and navigation station, putting his hand on the backs of their seats he stared intently at the daunting Imperial wall of ships, particularly the four stardestroyers in the center.
“Sir, I’m receiving a transmission from the Enterprise.”
“Put her through.”
Jim Kirk stood in the center of his bridge, crew men were gathering equipment and checking over their stations as they began filing out of the bridge. Kirk stood with Princess Leia and the enormous furry Wookie.
“Kirk?! I thought captain Riker was hailing me.” Ross sputtered.
“Sorry about that Admiral. I have a plan that will get us through that gauntlet. Mr. Spock tells me that a hole I was hoping for has appeared in their left wing. I plan to exploit that hole.”
“How? I don’t know how closely you’ve been following this battle, but we have less than three hundred starships, and half of those are effectively combat inoperative.” Ross replied.
“I’ve had my share of the battle admiral, I happened to see the presidential transport go down and I met the warlord leading this expeditionary force, but leave that for my debriefing. Right now I have a plan and I’m not about to lay it out on an open channel. Just follow the Enterprise out and stay as close together as possible, the breach will only be open for a few seconds and we are going to have to risk going to warp in the center of their fleet.”
“Kirk, that’s insane. Their heavy turbolaser bursts are making it impossible to form a stable warp field.”
“I realize that, sir. But I’m counting on the fact that the Imperials have been very careful to not go bursting off these babies in the center of their own ships, so please, either fight your way through that wing and lose it all or follow me and take a chance at getting away with minimal casualties.”
“Admiral, I cannot stress any further that those stardestroyers will be able to repel an assault by three hundred starships and all they have to do is hold you here awhile longer before their turbolaser bursts simply do their work for them. Your fleet has been defeated, we have to look to escape now.” Leia pressed.
Ross stared at Kirk who returned his gaze with cool calm, despite the black smears of smoke and dirt streaking his forehead, Kirk looked in control. Damn him. He was beginning to see why the brass of his time had looked on him with a mix of trepidation and awe. Could he trust this relic from the past with the fate of his fleet?
“Time is running out Admiral. We need to commit now.” Kirk said quietly.
This man had saved the Federation more times than Ross could count.
“Captain, it seems that the Federation is going to need your help one more time.”
“It is my honor to serve, Admiral.” Kirk nodded and the view screen winked back to the battle.
“Prepare to follow the Enterprise, order all ships to close in as tightly as possible and to go to warp as soon as we breach the wing.”
“Aye sir.”
Ross did not sit down, instead he leaned in closer on the backs of his helmsman and navigator’s seats. Their fate was now in the hands of a man that did not belong in this time. Could their situation become any more dire?
“Captain Riker.”
“Captain Kirk?”
“I’m going to need to ask a favor of you. I need you to beam my crew to your ship.”
“Sir?” Riker asked slightly confused.
“They’re no longer needed on this ship. I will need you to keep a transporter lock and myself, Mr. Spock and Mr. Scott.”
“Understood.” Riker replied, lying since he had no clue what Kirk was planning.
“Commence beaming now, we’re not going to have much time.”
“Energizing captain.”
Riker watched as the Enterprise slowly began to pull away from the fleet. He remembered building a model of that ship when he was a young child, admiring the smooth lines, the rounded nacelles, she looked as if she truly belonged among the stars. Now, like a ghost from the past, she was taking the lead of the battered Federation fleet and leading them on a desperate endeavor to flee. He silently urged the small ship onward.
“All crewmen are away, sir.” Spock reported.
“Are you sure about this Kirk?” Leia asked.
Kirk looked around the bridge, slowly taking it all in for the last time. He would never hear the familiar sounds again, never feel the deck plates creaking in time with the warp core.
“You know, I could tell you precisely at what warp factor we were traveling just by the feel of the deck plates.” Kirk replied absently as he ran his hand along the helm. On the view screen ahead, the Imperial fleet loomed and green turbolaser fire began to hammer around them.
“Jim.” She replied softly and put a hand on his shoulder. Chewbacca’s eyes narrowed on the motion but remained silent.
Kirk smiled softly and looked back at Leia.
“It’s alright. I’m a Starfleet officer and my first duty is to the Federation and her citizens.” He answered and looked into her eyes. “That’s the first time you called me Jim.” He added and avoided her suddenly uncomfortable expression as he turned to Scotty.
“Mr. Scott?”
Scotty frowned sadly as he flipped open a panel at his engineering post. He sighed and flicked a series of switches.
“Captain, the tricobalt charges have been armed. The warp core is running at 115%, running in the red.” Scotty answered sorrowfully.
“Arm all torpedoes.”
“Aye captain.” Scotty replied and worked on the weapons panel for a moment. An alarm sounded deep in the ship.
“Torpedo containment system is critical.” Spock reported dispassionately. He was watching his sensor display very closely.
“That hole still there, Mr. Spock?”
“The stardestroyer is in position. I have estimated blast radius, we should clear a hole in their lines that will allow the fleet to pass through.”
“How are you going to get past the stardestroyer?” Threepio asked curiously.
“We’re going to hit them with the most powerful projectile weapon currently in the Starfleet arsenal.” Kirk replied wanly.
“Sir?”
“Scotty, set for position alpha, prepare for emergency warp speed.”
“Aye sair.” Scotty replied and there was the slightest hesitation as he flicked several more controls, the usual thrum of the warp core became a low moan and the deck plates began to vibrate. Scotty patted his control station.
“There lass, ye’ll be getting the send off few starships ever get. Just give us another moment of luck and you’ll strike a blow worthy of your name.” He stated solemnly.
Kirk looked over at Scotty who returned the gaze. If anyone could understand Scotty’s feeling for the ship, it was James Kirk.
“Tricobalt devices now linked to the warp system, the moment we go to warp, and the devices begin detonation.” Scotty reported.
“Spock?”
“Time lapse is well within parameters. I have programmed the warheads to detonate precisely on impact.”
“Yield?”
“Sufficient to penetrate the Imperial shields and do the damage we require.”
“Let’s hope you’re right Mr. Spock.” Leia replied.
“Excuse me, but it definitely sounds as if we’re planning something more than launching some warheads at the Imperial fleet.” Threepio protested.
“We are, Threepio. We are launching the most powerful projectile weapon in the Federation arsenal.”
“So why are we talking about impacts, and where is your crew?”
Kirk smiled.
“Kirk to Riker.”
The Enterprise began to shudder violently and some lights on the bridge dimmed. “
“Heavy enemy fire concentrating on us, sir. We won’t be able to take much more of this.”
“Warp core at critical sir, we’ll be past the point of no return in five seconds.”
“There’s no turning back now, Scotty.”
“Riker here.”
“Captain, beam Princess Leia and her entourage out now. Keep a lock on us and beam us out precisely before the Enterprise goes to warp.”
“Understood.”
“Wait!” Leia protested and disappeared in a column of light.
“Okay, gentlemen, let’s guide her in on the last leg.” Kirk stated and sat in his command chair one last time.
“Warp drive now online. Emergency warp speed at your command.” Scotty reported.
Kirk glanced back at Spock who took one last look into his sensor hood and turned back to Kirk, nodded grimly.
Kirk hit a button on his command chair. The Enterprise lurched to the left, suddenly pivoting in space to face its true target.
“Now Mr. Scott.”
Scotty without hesitation hit the warp drive controls and simultaneously faded from the bridge. Kirk took one last look around.
“No beach to walk on.” He whispered and he disappeared in a column of light.
The Enterprise lanced forward, driven at speeds exceeding light by many hundreds of times. It screamed straight at the Stardestroyer Relentless. Traveling at nearly Warp 8, it crossed the distance in nano seconds. The Enterprise struck the bridge tower with a thunderous explosion, the tricobalt devices stolen from the Starfleet arsenal by the Sagan detonated simultaneously on impact as well as the Enterprise’s entire photon torpedo payload. The explosion tore through the Imperial stardestroyer’s shields and vaporized portions of the bridge tower in moments, debris tore through the upper portions of the tower and ripped through the bridge itself.
The already damaged stardestroyer, limping from the damage received to its engines by Luna’s special missiles lost all control and quickly drove downward into a supporting carrack, the smaller ship did not stand a chance to avoid the floundering juggernaut, shields damaged by the battle, and the Enterprise’s blast failed as the bow of the Reckless tore the tiny ship in half. The Relentless continued its dive through the Imperial left wing, clipping another stardestroyer and causing the wing to collapse as ships dove out of the way, fighters found themselves desperately trying to avoid the panicking capital ships, some unfortunate enough to get caught by the Relentless in its inexorable fall from the lines as controls failed and the already stricken engines simply began misfiring.
The Federation fleet did not hesitate and surged forward as one, impulse engines pushed to the limit, the fleet tore through the gaping hole opened in the line. The Imperial fleet’s fire slackened just as Kirk suspected it would when they penetrated deep into the Left wing. Several Imperial warships within the wing began firing at the retreating Federation fleet but the surviving Galaxy wings poured withering barrages of fire into those ships and Tac fighters swarmed around the fleet, intercepting as many Ties as they could.
“Engage warp drive now.” Ross ordered as the fleet began to emerge from the other side of the wing. The Imperial fire was increasing now and the rest of the fleet was blasting their turbolasers in full flak mode on the other side of the left wings in the hopes of catching the Federation fleet as it emerged on the other side. Ross marveled at Kirk’s military mind. He had predicted all the Imperial actions so far in this desperate plan and he realized as the fleet went to warp just as they emerged from the left wing that if the Federation intended to win this conflict, James T. Kirk was going to have to play a significant role in that drive to victory, polluted timeline or not.
The Federation fleet flashed out of the left wing into warp.
Earth was left behind, stripped of the last of her defenders, a floating graveyard of starships attended to by the mighty Imperial armada.
Kirk appeared on the bridge beside Riker.
“Captain I have to thank y-“
“No time, Captain Riker, I need a channel to Admiral Ross.” Kirk interrupted.
“Uh, Ok.” Riker replied nodding to Data.
“Captain Kirk.” Ross appeared on screen looking haggard but happy as his fleet managed to escape a trap they were obviously meant not to.
“Divert this fleet to Proxima Centauri immediately, we need to rescue the fleet elements engaged with the Romulans.”
“What? Kirk we’re barely escaped with our own lives and we have hundreds of starships that are on the verge of warp core breaches.” Ross protested. Riker eyed Kirk with a growing sense of respect. They had just come out of one battle and yet he was ready to go into another one.
“Admiral, I know my Romulans. They like to strike from a position of strength. If this fleet appears in their rear they will retreat and reorganize, giving us the time we need to pull the Proxima defensive fleet out of there.”
“Kirk this is not as easy as it sounds.”
“Admiral, we’re going to need every single starship from now on. If I understand the numbers I’ve scanned off Riker’s tactical display correctly we just lost over 600 starships in an engagement in which we lost Earth, the president, a good portion of our civilian experts and politicians and the Empire did not lose a single stardestroyer. You’re seriously telling me that you’re going to leave those men to die when we’re less than an hour away?” Kirk pressed. The bridge crew of the Enterprise stared at Kirk. Riker was amazed. He did not even think he had ever seen Picard talk to an admiral that way.
“That’s bordering on insubordination, Captain. I’m thinking of the bigger issues here.”
“Admiral with all due respect this is the biggest issue of all. Every starship we have is one that we can fight with. We let those fleet elements get crushed by the damned Romulans we are slowly sealing our own fate. We’ll need those ships and every other ship Starfleet has for the counterattack.”
“Counterattack?! Are you serious Kirk? We’re in no position to counterattack.”
“The Empire is going to think so sir and that is precisely why we’re going to do it. I’m already drawing up plans with Mr. Spock for the mission.”
“Kirk, in case you haven’t noticed I’m in charge of the fleet here.” Ross spat.
Some of the bridge officers shifted uncomfortably. Some bridge crewmen behind Ross on his own ship exchanged uneasy glances. They all were sharing the same unspoken thought. Ross may have been in command but it was Kirk that had gotten them out of that hell.
“For God’s sake man, save those people. They are our fellow officers and crewmen. We need them.” Kirk replied hotly.
Ross stared at Kirk, a bevy of emotions played across his features.
“Helm, set course for Proxima, maximum warp.” He ordered turning away from Kirk and the screen winked out.
“Thank you sir.” an ensign told Kirk with a sharp salute.
Riker glanced around and noticed that all eyes were on Kirk and he seemed to grow in stature before his eyes.
Four columns of light appeared in the alcove off the main walkway of one of the core matrix’s service areas. Captain Archer, Seven of Nine and two security officers appeared. Archer quickly glanced around. Seven had guided them true. No Borg in the immediate vicinity, the security officers quickly checked their phaser rifles and nodded to Archer.
Archer glanced over at Seven. She sported no weapon save for a tricorder. She claimed that this deep in Unimatrix 001, weapons would be of no use. The Borg would kill them in mere moments so she saw no logical reason to carry weapons. Archer was not so sure of that statement. He felt comfortable holding his own phaser rifle.
“There is a data node 25 meters to the south. Be cautious, there are Borg drones in the area.”
“Do they know we’re here?” Archer asked softly as they began to slowly emerge from the alcove and follow her down one of the walkways.
“There is no doubt that they detected our transporter beam.” Seven answered calmly as she glanced around them. Enormous green conduits flowed all around them; some had dancing wisps of St. Elmo’s fire that raced down towards the center of the control matrix.
“Sir.” one of the security officers warned. Several Borg drones were marching towards them.
“Steady.” Archer ordered holding his rifle at the ready.
The drones did not even glance at them. They strode past and continued on down the walkway and out of view.
“We are not seen as a threat, I suggest we not make ourselves one.” Seven replied coolly and continued down the walkway, following it through a large overhang that led up to one of the processing matrixes. Thousands of drones were lined up in exact intervals along the matrix, all plugged in by cybernetic implants in the arms. They stared blankly at a small monitor that hung at eye level, random geometric patterns were displayed, occasionally broken up by a burst of encrypted text.
“Theses drones are acting as routers on all incoming data transmissions. Data seen as crucial or curious are passed on to the central matrix itself where the core processors analyze the data.” Seven explained as they passed them by and stopped at another alcove. A small pyramid shaped object stood in the center of the alcove. It glowed dull green and hummed lowly.
“The information node?” Archer asked.
“Correct. It will take me a few minutes to set up a transfer with my tricorder; I will endeavor to make sure that the Borg do not detect the data transfer.”
“How?” Archer asked.
“By making the node believe that I am a drone.” she replied and casually placed an implant over her left eye and another on her right hand. She hooked herself up to the node without hesitation and linked the tricorder to the implant over her eye. Archer opened his mouth to say something but Seven was already starting to work the node, moving her hands along its glass smooth surface, it responded with varying pulses of green light, each pulse carried with it enormous streams of data.
“Is this wise?” he asked her kneeling beside her.
Seven did not look at him, her eyes were intent on the node, her free hand running over the tricorder controls. He noticed the streams of images and shapes flashing by the tricorder screen at dizzying speed.
“Your concern is…appreciated.” She replied in that matter of fact tone he had grown accustomed to.
“Hmmmm.” He smirked. He leaned in slightly closer. “Did anyone ever tell you you’re gorgeous when you interface with a Borg data node?” He asked soto voce. Seven paused for a mere second and there was a shadow of a smile on her lips.
“Captain, you are distracting me from a crucial assignment, please stand at your post.” She replied haughtily.
“As you wish.” He answered with a wink and stood up.
“Sir.”
Archer hesitantly walked over to the security guards. He was reluctant to leave Seven plugged into that thing, but she obviously knew what she was doing.
“What is it Lieutenant?”
“Look over there.”
Archer followed his finger and saw images floating overhead, images of those same massive triangular shaped warships he had seen earlier. They were involved in a battle but certainly not the one they had just escaped from.
“I think they’re fighting Starfleet vessels.” The lieutenant commented warily.
Suddenly, as if on cue an Excelsior class ship flashed by on the screen.
“What the hell?” Archer breathed.
“The Borg have dedicated over 75% of their computing power to solve the mystery of this foe. The last time such resources were dedicated to a single species was when species 8427 began offensive actions against the Collective.” A calm female voice intruded on their thoughts. Archer whirled around, rifle poised to fire. The guards followed suit.
“But I see that you are as in the dark as we concerning those Imperial vessels, we have tentatively classified them as species 9977, however they are undoubtedly human, so there is considerable debate within the Collective as to the true designation for these new comers.”
“I know that voice.” Seven interjected trepidation in her voice. She slowly turned around and saw her standing in the alcove between her and Archer.
“Seven, it’s good to see you putting the skills you learned as a drone to such a productive use.” The Borg queen stated coolly.
Tarsi watched the shattered remnants of the Klingon defense fleet around Quo’nos. Hundreds of ships were shattered in his wake. The Klingon home world lay sprawled before him, an ugly blackish red world that was begging to be destroyed just for defying Tarsi’s sense of aesthetic.
“The space around Quo’nos is secured, Captain. However, our sensors are detecting an incoming Klingon fleet, probably about 500 to 600 ships strong.”
“How long?”
“Four hours.”
Tarsi nodded.
“Sir, orders from Lord Nemesis have just come through.” A com officer reported handing Tarsi the data pad. He glanced down at it and did a double take.
“Have these orders been confirmed?” Tarsi asked seriously.
“Yes, sir. Lord Nemesis’ personal code attached as well as a voice print.” The com officer replied, glancing at the XO nervously. Tarsi’s XO peered over Tarsi’s shoulder at the order. Tarsi nodded.
“Commence operations, immediately.” Tarsi snapped and handed his XO the datapad. His XO stared down at the pad. There were only three words.
BASE DELTA ZERO
Chapter 19: Escape and Confrontations
Nemesis stared up at the sky, feeling the anger and fear storming overhead out of sight. However the stars were starting to peak through the blue canopy of the sky. The sun was setting and he watched it off the waters of the bay. It was really quite beautiful.
“Admiral Kittaine reports that the Federation fleet will be destroyed. He has them cornered and is positioning the fleet for the final assault.” Mara reported.
Nemesis nodded.
Mara watched him intently for a moment. He looked calm. There was still the shadow of anger on his brow, but his eyes kept looking skyward. Behind them, General Ithis was directing his troops as they moved through the wreckage of the battle field, collecting prisoners and capturing any salvageable equipment. Reports had come in across the globe of the Imperial invasion forces successes against the Federation’s defenses. The vast majority of the transports had been downed or captured. Resistance was pathetic, all save here. The Empire had suffered the most casualties in their assault on Starfleet command. Six AT ATs had been damaged or destroyed, many with troops still onboard. Three times the number they lost at Hoth, and that was against prepared defenses against a roughly technologically equal foe.
The Federation had destroyed their command center before it could be captured. Imperial computer experts and salvage teams were combing through the rubble looking for any data that could be recovered.
“If I may be so bold, my lord, it was unwise for you to come down here personally and confront the rebel leader princess Leia Organna. She is a dangerous person.”
“Precisely why I should have over seen her capture personally.” Nemesis snapped.
“Considering your past, I wonder if your feelings on this matter are clear, Lord Nemesis.”
“What did you say?” Nemesis asked his voice cold and dark as a tomb. Mara felt the force starting to wrap around her. She started exercises in her mind to help her resist the coming attack but held no illusions as to her ability to fight off the Sith Lord’s coming attack.
“The Emperor made it very clear to me that as your servant I was to watch you for any wavering in regard to Leia Organna, Han Solo or the wookie. He is well aware that you all shared strong bonds and thus it may confuse you.” She answered quickly. Suddenly she was jerked off her feet and floated above the ground by almost two meters. Nemesis watched her with eyes like ice.
“He said this to you?” He asked softly.
“I am merely fulfilling my duty to the emperor. I may be your servant by I am his Hand. Read my mind if you do not believe me.” She replied calmly, fighting the natural fear and panic that rose in her. She could feel the phantom fingers slowly pressing in on her throat.
Nemesis stared in her eyes for a long moment. The silence was occasionally broken by the sound of TIE Bombers and their Interceptor escorts flying overhead. Sometimes an explosion ripped through the sky far off past the horizon, indicating a Federation stronghold that had met its demise by TIE bombers.
Nemesis slowly brought her down to him. She hovered six inches off the ground and his eyes bore into hers. She could feel his breath on her. He watched her for a moment and suddenly leaned forward and savagely kissed her. Her eyes widened at the contact and she found herself hesitantly returning the kiss. Just as suddenly as it had begun, when she felt the passion stirring in her breast and her own heart beating hard in time with his, he broke contact with her and stared into her eyes again.
She slowly floated to the ground. She caught her breath as he gathered his cape around him.
“I believe I’ve made my feelings clear, Mara. Don’t you?” He asked and stepped away from her striding over to the makeshift command center set up on the ruined field where the battle that had destroyed Starfleet command had taken place.
Mara stared after him for the first time since this had begun unsure of herself or her mission.
“Lord Nemesis, Admiral Kittaine has relayed a message to us from Captain Tarsi. He has fought his way to the Klingon home world of Quo’nos. He is standing by awaiting orders, my lord.” A communications officer reported.
Nemesis smiled coldly.
“Relay this order to Captain Tarsi.”
The communications officer slowly nodded gravely as he heard the order and hesitantly relayed it.
“We’re getting slaughtered.” Ross spat as his ship was rocked by the death throes of another starship on his port bow. The Imperial fighters were weaving between the rapidly dwindling Starfleet task force. Ross did not want to look down at the tactical display on his command chair’s armrest. The last time he had looked, hundreds of starships, commanded by men he knew and cherished were dead.
Tac Fighters valiantly followed after the Imperial fighters, doing their best to keep them away from the big ships, but the Imperial fighters outnumbered the Tac fighters and they were simply saturating the Federation lines. TIE Bombers were making standoff attacks, attempts by Federation starships to intercept incoming proton torpedoes with explosive bursts from the quantum torpedoes were meeting with some success, however they were running into a serious problem, their torpedo bays were rapidly running out of warheads. Some starships had fired off their total load out and were relying solely on phasers. Even at the height of the Dominion war Ross had not recalled an entire fleet running out of torpedoes.
The turbolaser bursts were becoming more accurate and deadly. The Stardestroyers had been relentlessly creeping in on the Federation fleet until it became nearly impossible for Ross to order another retreat. The transports would be running right into the Imperial fleet.
The first bit of good news in a long time was announced by his communications officer.
“Admiral Ross, we have confirmation that the transports are away. They will rendezvous with us in two minutes.”
“Good, inform the fleet to form up in an attack wedge, we’re going to punch our way through the Imperial left wing and warp out of here.”
“Sir, the Imperial left wing just got reinforcements, four star destroyers have formed up in the center and fighters are beginning to fall back to standby positions at the extreme left of the wing.”
“They know.” Ross muttered, feeling the first irresistible cold talons of defeat digging into his gut.
“The Enterprise is warning us that the Imperial right wing is beginning to collapse on us sir.”
“They mean to squeeze us. We have no choice but to run that gauntlet.” Ross concluded with a somber tone. “What’s the status on the transports?”
“The transports have formed up in the center sir.”
“How many?”
“Thirteen, sir.”
“Thirteen?!” Ross hissed in utter horror. The Federation had over a hundred transports ready for liftoff when this attack began.
“We lost the presidential transport as well sir.”
Ross lowered his head slightly. The president insisted on being on the last transport out. He took a breath and stood up, taking a place between the helm and navigation station, putting his hand on the backs of their seats he stared intently at the daunting Imperial wall of ships, particularly the four stardestroyers in the center.
“Sir, I’m receiving a transmission from the Enterprise.”
“Put her through.”
Jim Kirk stood in the center of his bridge, crew men were gathering equipment and checking over their stations as they began filing out of the bridge. Kirk stood with Princess Leia and the enormous furry Wookie.
“Kirk?! I thought captain Riker was hailing me.” Ross sputtered.
“Sorry about that Admiral. I have a plan that will get us through that gauntlet. Mr. Spock tells me that a hole I was hoping for has appeared in their left wing. I plan to exploit that hole.”
“How? I don’t know how closely you’ve been following this battle, but we have less than three hundred starships, and half of those are effectively combat inoperative.” Ross replied.
“I’ve had my share of the battle admiral, I happened to see the presidential transport go down and I met the warlord leading this expeditionary force, but leave that for my debriefing. Right now I have a plan and I’m not about to lay it out on an open channel. Just follow the Enterprise out and stay as close together as possible, the breach will only be open for a few seconds and we are going to have to risk going to warp in the center of their fleet.”
“Kirk, that’s insane. Their heavy turbolaser bursts are making it impossible to form a stable warp field.”
“I realize that, sir. But I’m counting on the fact that the Imperials have been very careful to not go bursting off these babies in the center of their own ships, so please, either fight your way through that wing and lose it all or follow me and take a chance at getting away with minimal casualties.”
“Admiral, I cannot stress any further that those stardestroyers will be able to repel an assault by three hundred starships and all they have to do is hold you here awhile longer before their turbolaser bursts simply do their work for them. Your fleet has been defeated, we have to look to escape now.” Leia pressed.
Ross stared at Kirk who returned his gaze with cool calm, despite the black smears of smoke and dirt streaking his forehead, Kirk looked in control. Damn him. He was beginning to see why the brass of his time had looked on him with a mix of trepidation and awe. Could he trust this relic from the past with the fate of his fleet?
“Time is running out Admiral. We need to commit now.” Kirk said quietly.
This man had saved the Federation more times than Ross could count.
“Captain, it seems that the Federation is going to need your help one more time.”
“It is my honor to serve, Admiral.” Kirk nodded and the view screen winked back to the battle.
“Prepare to follow the Enterprise, order all ships to close in as tightly as possible and to go to warp as soon as we breach the wing.”
“Aye sir.”
Ross did not sit down, instead he leaned in closer on the backs of his helmsman and navigator’s seats. Their fate was now in the hands of a man that did not belong in this time. Could their situation become any more dire?
“Captain Riker.”
“Captain Kirk?”
“I’m going to need to ask a favor of you. I need you to beam my crew to your ship.”
“Sir?” Riker asked slightly confused.
“They’re no longer needed on this ship. I will need you to keep a transporter lock and myself, Mr. Spock and Mr. Scott.”
“Understood.” Riker replied, lying since he had no clue what Kirk was planning.
“Commence beaming now, we’re not going to have much time.”
“Energizing captain.”
Riker watched as the Enterprise slowly began to pull away from the fleet. He remembered building a model of that ship when he was a young child, admiring the smooth lines, the rounded nacelles, she looked as if she truly belonged among the stars. Now, like a ghost from the past, she was taking the lead of the battered Federation fleet and leading them on a desperate endeavor to flee. He silently urged the small ship onward.
“All crewmen are away, sir.” Spock reported.
“Are you sure about this Kirk?” Leia asked.
Kirk looked around the bridge, slowly taking it all in for the last time. He would never hear the familiar sounds again, never feel the deck plates creaking in time with the warp core.
“You know, I could tell you precisely at what warp factor we were traveling just by the feel of the deck plates.” Kirk replied absently as he ran his hand along the helm. On the view screen ahead, the Imperial fleet loomed and green turbolaser fire began to hammer around them.
“Jim.” She replied softly and put a hand on his shoulder. Chewbacca’s eyes narrowed on the motion but remained silent.
Kirk smiled softly and looked back at Leia.
“It’s alright. I’m a Starfleet officer and my first duty is to the Federation and her citizens.” He answered and looked into her eyes. “That’s the first time you called me Jim.” He added and avoided her suddenly uncomfortable expression as he turned to Scotty.
“Mr. Scott?”
Scotty frowned sadly as he flipped open a panel at his engineering post. He sighed and flicked a series of switches.
“Captain, the tricobalt charges have been armed. The warp core is running at 115%, running in the red.” Scotty answered sorrowfully.
“Arm all torpedoes.”
“Aye captain.” Scotty replied and worked on the weapons panel for a moment. An alarm sounded deep in the ship.
“Torpedo containment system is critical.” Spock reported dispassionately. He was watching his sensor display very closely.
“That hole still there, Mr. Spock?”
“The stardestroyer is in position. I have estimated blast radius, we should clear a hole in their lines that will allow the fleet to pass through.”
“How are you going to get past the stardestroyer?” Threepio asked curiously.
“We’re going to hit them with the most powerful projectile weapon currently in the Starfleet arsenal.” Kirk replied wanly.
“Sir?”
“Scotty, set for position alpha, prepare for emergency warp speed.”
“Aye sair.” Scotty replied and there was the slightest hesitation as he flicked several more controls, the usual thrum of the warp core became a low moan and the deck plates began to vibrate. Scotty patted his control station.
“There lass, ye’ll be getting the send off few starships ever get. Just give us another moment of luck and you’ll strike a blow worthy of your name.” He stated solemnly.
Kirk looked over at Scotty who returned the gaze. If anyone could understand Scotty’s feeling for the ship, it was James Kirk.
“Tricobalt devices now linked to the warp system, the moment we go to warp, and the devices begin detonation.” Scotty reported.
“Spock?”
“Time lapse is well within parameters. I have programmed the warheads to detonate precisely on impact.”
“Yield?”
“Sufficient to penetrate the Imperial shields and do the damage we require.”
“Let’s hope you’re right Mr. Spock.” Leia replied.
“Excuse me, but it definitely sounds as if we’re planning something more than launching some warheads at the Imperial fleet.” Threepio protested.
“We are, Threepio. We are launching the most powerful projectile weapon in the Federation arsenal.”
“So why are we talking about impacts, and where is your crew?”
Kirk smiled.
“Kirk to Riker.”
The Enterprise began to shudder violently and some lights on the bridge dimmed. “
“Heavy enemy fire concentrating on us, sir. We won’t be able to take much more of this.”
“Warp core at critical sir, we’ll be past the point of no return in five seconds.”
“There’s no turning back now, Scotty.”
“Riker here.”
“Captain, beam Princess Leia and her entourage out now. Keep a lock on us and beam us out precisely before the Enterprise goes to warp.”
“Understood.”
“Wait!” Leia protested and disappeared in a column of light.
“Okay, gentlemen, let’s guide her in on the last leg.” Kirk stated and sat in his command chair one last time.
“Warp drive now online. Emergency warp speed at your command.” Scotty reported.
Kirk glanced back at Spock who took one last look into his sensor hood and turned back to Kirk, nodded grimly.
Kirk hit a button on his command chair. The Enterprise lurched to the left, suddenly pivoting in space to face its true target.
“Now Mr. Scott.”
Scotty without hesitation hit the warp drive controls and simultaneously faded from the bridge. Kirk took one last look around.
“No beach to walk on.” He whispered and he disappeared in a column of light.
The Enterprise lanced forward, driven at speeds exceeding light by many hundreds of times. It screamed straight at the Stardestroyer Relentless. Traveling at nearly Warp 8, it crossed the distance in nano seconds. The Enterprise struck the bridge tower with a thunderous explosion, the tricobalt devices stolen from the Starfleet arsenal by the Sagan detonated simultaneously on impact as well as the Enterprise’s entire photon torpedo payload. The explosion tore through the Imperial stardestroyer’s shields and vaporized portions of the bridge tower in moments, debris tore through the upper portions of the tower and ripped through the bridge itself.
The already damaged stardestroyer, limping from the damage received to its engines by Luna’s special missiles lost all control and quickly drove downward into a supporting carrack, the smaller ship did not stand a chance to avoid the floundering juggernaut, shields damaged by the battle, and the Enterprise’s blast failed as the bow of the Reckless tore the tiny ship in half. The Relentless continued its dive through the Imperial left wing, clipping another stardestroyer and causing the wing to collapse as ships dove out of the way, fighters found themselves desperately trying to avoid the panicking capital ships, some unfortunate enough to get caught by the Relentless in its inexorable fall from the lines as controls failed and the already stricken engines simply began misfiring.
The Federation fleet did not hesitate and surged forward as one, impulse engines pushed to the limit, the fleet tore through the gaping hole opened in the line. The Imperial fleet’s fire slackened just as Kirk suspected it would when they penetrated deep into the Left wing. Several Imperial warships within the wing began firing at the retreating Federation fleet but the surviving Galaxy wings poured withering barrages of fire into those ships and Tac fighters swarmed around the fleet, intercepting as many Ties as they could.
“Engage warp drive now.” Ross ordered as the fleet began to emerge from the other side of the wing. The Imperial fire was increasing now and the rest of the fleet was blasting their turbolasers in full flak mode on the other side of the left wings in the hopes of catching the Federation fleet as it emerged on the other side. Ross marveled at Kirk’s military mind. He had predicted all the Imperial actions so far in this desperate plan and he realized as the fleet went to warp just as they emerged from the left wing that if the Federation intended to win this conflict, James T. Kirk was going to have to play a significant role in that drive to victory, polluted timeline or not.
The Federation fleet flashed out of the left wing into warp.
Earth was left behind, stripped of the last of her defenders, a floating graveyard of starships attended to by the mighty Imperial armada.
Kirk appeared on the bridge beside Riker.
“Captain I have to thank y-“
“No time, Captain Riker, I need a channel to Admiral Ross.” Kirk interrupted.
“Uh, Ok.” Riker replied nodding to Data.
“Captain Kirk.” Ross appeared on screen looking haggard but happy as his fleet managed to escape a trap they were obviously meant not to.
“Divert this fleet to Proxima Centauri immediately, we need to rescue the fleet elements engaged with the Romulans.”
“What? Kirk we’re barely escaped with our own lives and we have hundreds of starships that are on the verge of warp core breaches.” Ross protested. Riker eyed Kirk with a growing sense of respect. They had just come out of one battle and yet he was ready to go into another one.
“Admiral, I know my Romulans. They like to strike from a position of strength. If this fleet appears in their rear they will retreat and reorganize, giving us the time we need to pull the Proxima defensive fleet out of there.”
“Kirk this is not as easy as it sounds.”
“Admiral, we’re going to need every single starship from now on. If I understand the numbers I’ve scanned off Riker’s tactical display correctly we just lost over 600 starships in an engagement in which we lost Earth, the president, a good portion of our civilian experts and politicians and the Empire did not lose a single stardestroyer. You’re seriously telling me that you’re going to leave those men to die when we’re less than an hour away?” Kirk pressed. The bridge crew of the Enterprise stared at Kirk. Riker was amazed. He did not even think he had ever seen Picard talk to an admiral that way.
“That’s bordering on insubordination, Captain. I’m thinking of the bigger issues here.”
“Admiral with all due respect this is the biggest issue of all. Every starship we have is one that we can fight with. We let those fleet elements get crushed by the damned Romulans we are slowly sealing our own fate. We’ll need those ships and every other ship Starfleet has for the counterattack.”
“Counterattack?! Are you serious Kirk? We’re in no position to counterattack.”
“The Empire is going to think so sir and that is precisely why we’re going to do it. I’m already drawing up plans with Mr. Spock for the mission.”
“Kirk, in case you haven’t noticed I’m in charge of the fleet here.” Ross spat.
Some of the bridge officers shifted uncomfortably. Some bridge crewmen behind Ross on his own ship exchanged uneasy glances. They all were sharing the same unspoken thought. Ross may have been in command but it was Kirk that had gotten them out of that hell.
“For God’s sake man, save those people. They are our fellow officers and crewmen. We need them.” Kirk replied hotly.
Ross stared at Kirk, a bevy of emotions played across his features.
“Helm, set course for Proxima, maximum warp.” He ordered turning away from Kirk and the screen winked out.
“Thank you sir.” an ensign told Kirk with a sharp salute.
Riker glanced around and noticed that all eyes were on Kirk and he seemed to grow in stature before his eyes.
Four columns of light appeared in the alcove off the main walkway of one of the core matrix’s service areas. Captain Archer, Seven of Nine and two security officers appeared. Archer quickly glanced around. Seven had guided them true. No Borg in the immediate vicinity, the security officers quickly checked their phaser rifles and nodded to Archer.
Archer glanced over at Seven. She sported no weapon save for a tricorder. She claimed that this deep in Unimatrix 001, weapons would be of no use. The Borg would kill them in mere moments so she saw no logical reason to carry weapons. Archer was not so sure of that statement. He felt comfortable holding his own phaser rifle.
“There is a data node 25 meters to the south. Be cautious, there are Borg drones in the area.”
“Do they know we’re here?” Archer asked softly as they began to slowly emerge from the alcove and follow her down one of the walkways.
“There is no doubt that they detected our transporter beam.” Seven answered calmly as she glanced around them. Enormous green conduits flowed all around them; some had dancing wisps of St. Elmo’s fire that raced down towards the center of the control matrix.
“Sir.” one of the security officers warned. Several Borg drones were marching towards them.
“Steady.” Archer ordered holding his rifle at the ready.
The drones did not even glance at them. They strode past and continued on down the walkway and out of view.
“We are not seen as a threat, I suggest we not make ourselves one.” Seven replied coolly and continued down the walkway, following it through a large overhang that led up to one of the processing matrixes. Thousands of drones were lined up in exact intervals along the matrix, all plugged in by cybernetic implants in the arms. They stared blankly at a small monitor that hung at eye level, random geometric patterns were displayed, occasionally broken up by a burst of encrypted text.
“Theses drones are acting as routers on all incoming data transmissions. Data seen as crucial or curious are passed on to the central matrix itself where the core processors analyze the data.” Seven explained as they passed them by and stopped at another alcove. A small pyramid shaped object stood in the center of the alcove. It glowed dull green and hummed lowly.
“The information node?” Archer asked.
“Correct. It will take me a few minutes to set up a transfer with my tricorder; I will endeavor to make sure that the Borg do not detect the data transfer.”
“How?” Archer asked.
“By making the node believe that I am a drone.” she replied and casually placed an implant over her left eye and another on her right hand. She hooked herself up to the node without hesitation and linked the tricorder to the implant over her eye. Archer opened his mouth to say something but Seven was already starting to work the node, moving her hands along its glass smooth surface, it responded with varying pulses of green light, each pulse carried with it enormous streams of data.
“Is this wise?” he asked her kneeling beside her.
Seven did not look at him, her eyes were intent on the node, her free hand running over the tricorder controls. He noticed the streams of images and shapes flashing by the tricorder screen at dizzying speed.
“Your concern is…appreciated.” She replied in that matter of fact tone he had grown accustomed to.
“Hmmmm.” He smirked. He leaned in slightly closer. “Did anyone ever tell you you’re gorgeous when you interface with a Borg data node?” He asked soto voce. Seven paused for a mere second and there was a shadow of a smile on her lips.
“Captain, you are distracting me from a crucial assignment, please stand at your post.” She replied haughtily.
“As you wish.” He answered with a wink and stood up.
“Sir.”
Archer hesitantly walked over to the security guards. He was reluctant to leave Seven plugged into that thing, but she obviously knew what she was doing.
“What is it Lieutenant?”
“Look over there.”
Archer followed his finger and saw images floating overhead, images of those same massive triangular shaped warships he had seen earlier. They were involved in a battle but certainly not the one they had just escaped from.
“I think they’re fighting Starfleet vessels.” The lieutenant commented warily.
Suddenly, as if on cue an Excelsior class ship flashed by on the screen.
“What the hell?” Archer breathed.
“The Borg have dedicated over 75% of their computing power to solve the mystery of this foe. The last time such resources were dedicated to a single species was when species 8427 began offensive actions against the Collective.” A calm female voice intruded on their thoughts. Archer whirled around, rifle poised to fire. The guards followed suit.
“But I see that you are as in the dark as we concerning those Imperial vessels, we have tentatively classified them as species 9977, however they are undoubtedly human, so there is considerable debate within the Collective as to the true designation for these new comers.”
“I know that voice.” Seven interjected trepidation in her voice. She slowly turned around and saw her standing in the alcove between her and Archer.
“Seven, it’s good to see you putting the skills you learned as a drone to such a productive use.” The Borg queen stated coolly.
Tarsi watched the shattered remnants of the Klingon defense fleet around Quo’nos. Hundreds of ships were shattered in his wake. The Klingon home world lay sprawled before him, an ugly blackish red world that was begging to be destroyed just for defying Tarsi’s sense of aesthetic.
“The space around Quo’nos is secured, Captain. However, our sensors are detecting an incoming Klingon fleet, probably about 500 to 600 ships strong.”
“How long?”
“Four hours.”
Tarsi nodded.
“Sir, orders from Lord Nemesis have just come through.” A com officer reported handing Tarsi the data pad. He glanced down at it and did a double take.
“Have these orders been confirmed?” Tarsi asked seriously.
“Yes, sir. Lord Nemesis’ personal code attached as well as a voice print.” The com officer replied, glancing at the XO nervously. Tarsi’s XO peered over Tarsi’s shoulder at the order. Tarsi nodded.
“Commence operations, immediately.” Tarsi snapped and handed his XO the datapad. His XO stared down at the pad. There were only three words.
BASE DELTA ZERO
Wherever you go, there you are.
Ripped Shirt Monkey - BOTMWriter's Guild Cybertron's Finest Justice League
This updated sig brought to you by JME2
Ripped Shirt Monkey - BOTMWriter's Guild Cybertron's Finest Justice League
This updated sig brought to you by JME2
Later... After acutal reading
Gah.. umm DAMN!
Must have moooooooooooooooore
Mooooooooooooooooooooooooooore
Braaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaains... umm I mean faaaaaaaaanfffffffffffffffiiiiiiiiiiiiiic
Gah.. umm DAMN!
Must have moooooooooooooooore
Mooooooooooooooooooooooooooore
Braaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaains... umm I mean faaaaaaaaanfffffffffffffffiiiiiiiiiiiiiic
"A cult is a religion with no political power." -Tom Wolfe
Pardon me for sounding like a dick, but I'm playing the tiniest violin in the world right now-Dalton
-
ViciousMink
- Youngling
- Posts: 82
- Joined: 2002-09-17 01:06am
- Location: Winter Park, FL
I can't think of a better or more ominous ending to a chapter than those three words. Bravo!Stravo wrote: BASE DELTA ZERO
The writing seemed a little rushed in this installment, but it did not detract too much from the story itself; I very much like how the story is character driven instead of plot-device driven. That's a thing that all too few budding writers are capable of.
And to repeat what others are saying: MORE! MORE!
The Jedi asked, "What is balance for me as a servant of the Light?" The Master replied,"Balance is not what you seek. For you it is accepting that destruction is a part of the universe."
-- from Koans of the Silver Master
Founder, the Cult of Wilhelm. "Praise be to Wilhelm. AAAAIIIIUH!"
-- from Koans of the Silver Master
Founder, the Cult of Wilhelm. "Praise be to Wilhelm. AAAAIIIIUH!"
awesome I will finally a imperial Base delta zero on a inhabited world, chilling as well, excallent.
"a single death is a tragedy, a million deaths are a statistic"-Joseph Stalin
"No plan survives contact with the enemy"-Helmuth Von Moltke
"Women prefer stories about one person dying slowly. Men prefer stories of many people dying quickly."-Niles from Frasier.
"No plan survives contact with the enemy"-Helmuth Von Moltke
"Women prefer stories about one person dying slowly. Men prefer stories of many people dying quickly."-Niles from Frasier.
-
Master of Ossus
- Darkest Knight
- Posts: 18213
- Joined: 2002-07-11 01:35am
- Location: California
Thank you, Stravo.
"Sometimes I think you WANT us to fail." "Shut up, just shut up!" -Two Guys from Kabul
Latinum Star Recipient; Hacker's Cross Award Winner
"one soler flar can vapririze the planit or malt the nickl in lass than millasacit" -Bagara1000
"Happiness is just a Flaming Moe away."
Latinum Star Recipient; Hacker's Cross Award Winner
"one soler flar can vapririze the planit or malt the nickl in lass than millasacit" -Bagara1000
"Happiness is just a Flaming Moe away."
MoO!! It's been awhile since you've come on with words of encouragement. I'll never forget those first few chapters of this puppy and how you were always there with encouragement and especially advice.Master of Ossus wrote:Thank you, Stravo.
Glad you enjoyed the chapter
Wherever you go, there you are.
Ripped Shirt Monkey - BOTMWriter's Guild Cybertron's Finest Justice League
This updated sig brought to you by JME2
Ripped Shirt Monkey - BOTMWriter's Guild Cybertron's Finest Justice League
This updated sig brought to you by JME2
-
Peter Gibbons
- Redshirt
- Posts: 7
- Joined: 2002-09-16 03:35pm
- Location: booth at Chotchkie's
-
Soontir C'boath
- SG-14: Fuck the Medic!
- Posts: 6844
- Joined: 2002-07-06 12:15am
- Location: Queens, NYC I DON'T FUCKING CARE IF MANHATTEN IS CONSIDERED NYC!! I'M IN IT ASSHOLE!!!
- Contact:
The end of that chapter is beautiful.
Cyaround,
Jason
Cyaround,
Jason
I have almost reached the regrettable conclusion that the Negro's great stumbling block in his stride toward freedom is not the White Citizen's Counciler or the Ku Klux Klanner, but the white moderate, who is more devoted to "order" than to justice; who constantly says: "I agree with you in the goal you seek, but I cannot agree with your methods of direct action"; who paternalistically believes he can set the timetable for another man's freedom; who lives by a mythical concept of time and who constantly advises the Negro to wait for a "more convenient season."
I don't know if I'd call an impending BDZ Operation as beautiful...but maybe I should know better with this crowd.Soontir C'boath wrote:The end of that chapter is beautiful.
Cyaround,
Jason
Wherever you go, there you are.
Ripped Shirt Monkey - BOTMWriter's Guild Cybertron's Finest Justice League
This updated sig brought to you by JME2
Ripped Shirt Monkey - BOTMWriter's Guild Cybertron's Finest Justice League
This updated sig brought to you by JME2
-
2000AD
- Emperor's Hand
- Posts: 6666
- Joined: 2002-07-03 06:32pm
- Location: Leeds, wishing i was still in Newcastle
Is this Stravo's first SW Vs ST fanfic? Is it his first fanfic?????
If it is then he is blessed with talent and skill
If it is then he is blessed with talent and skill
Ph34r teh eyebrow!!11!Writers Guild Sluggite Pawn of Chaos WYGIWYGAINGW so now i have to put ACPATHNTDWATGODW in my sig EBC-Honorary Geordie
Hammerman! Hammer!
Hammerman! Hammer!
Of course it is beautiful here, especially if you use Saxton's and Wongs calcs.Stravo wrote:I don't know if I'd call an impending BDZ Operation as beautiful...but maybe I should know better with this crowd.Soontir C'boath wrote:The end of that chapter is beautiful.
Cyaround,
Jason
P.S. The avatar you have of Kirk looks like he is saluting Hitler.
Go, tell the Spartans, stranger passing by,
That here, obedient to their laws, we lie.
That here, obedient to their laws, we lie.
It's Kirk saluting the Empire in "Mirror, Mirror." Aprapo considering my dual loyalties to both SW and ST.Ted wrote:Of course it is beautiful here, especially if you use Saxton's and Wongs calcs.Stravo wrote:I don't know if I'd call an impending BDZ Operation as beautiful...but maybe I should know better with this crowd.Soontir C'boath wrote:The end of that chapter is beautiful.
Cyaround,
Jason
P.S. The avatar you have of Kirk looks like he is saluting Hitler.
Wherever you go, there you are.
Ripped Shirt Monkey - BOTMWriter's Guild Cybertron's Finest Justice League
This updated sig brought to you by JME2
Ripped Shirt Monkey - BOTMWriter's Guild Cybertron's Finest Justice League
This updated sig brought to you by JME2
-
Master of Ossus
- Darkest Knight
- Posts: 18213
- Joined: 2002-07-11 01:35am
- Location: California
Sorry, it looked like you were getting along quite well without me. It's been a great fanfic, Stravo. One of the things I've learned is that once a good writer is moving in the right direction, it's best just to let him go on and learn on his own. I'm not sure how much more advice I can give you, Stravo. You have moved beyond my ability to teach.Stravo wrote:MoO!! It's been awhile since you've come on with words of encouragement. I'll never forget those first few chapters of this puppy and how you were always there with encouragement and especially advice.Master of Ossus wrote:Thank you, Stravo.
Glad you enjoyed the chapter
"Sometimes I think you WANT us to fail." "Shut up, just shut up!" -Two Guys from Kabul
Latinum Star Recipient; Hacker's Cross Award Winner
"one soler flar can vapririze the planit or malt the nickl in lass than millasacit" -Bagara1000
"Happiness is just a Flaming Moe away."
Latinum Star Recipient; Hacker's Cross Award Winner
"one soler flar can vapririze the planit or malt the nickl in lass than millasacit" -Bagara1000
"Happiness is just a Flaming Moe away."
-
2000AD
- Emperor's Hand
- Posts: 6666
- Joined: 2002-07-03 06:32pm
- Location: Leeds, wishing i was still in Newcastle
Where has Stravo gone? We need more before we all start with withdrawl!!!
Ph34r teh eyebrow!!11!Writers Guild Sluggite Pawn of Chaos WYGIWYGAINGW so now i have to put ACPATHNTDWATGODW in my sig EBC-Honorary Geordie
Hammerman! Hammer!
Hammerman! Hammer!
-
Soontir C'boath
- SG-14: Fuck the Medic!
- Posts: 6844
- Joined: 2002-07-06 12:15am
- Location: Queens, NYC I DON'T FUCKING CARE IF MANHATTEN IS CONSIDERED NYC!! I'M IN IT ASSHOLE!!!
- Contact:
AHHH AHHH AHHHH!!!!! AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!! THE PAAAAIN!!!!!
Cyaround,
Jason
Cyaround,
Jason
I have almost reached the regrettable conclusion that the Negro's great stumbling block in his stride toward freedom is not the White Citizen's Counciler or the Ku Klux Klanner, but the white moderate, who is more devoted to "order" than to justice; who constantly says: "I agree with you in the goal you seek, but I cannot agree with your methods of direct action"; who paternalistically believes he can set the timetable for another man's freedom; who lives by a mythical concept of time and who constantly advises the Negro to wait for a "more convenient season."
OK guys, I know its been a long time between chapters, but I've been busy and some folks PMd me about the last chapter seeming a bit rushed, so I have taken these critiques to heart and made sure pen went to paper on a much calmer time frame.
Enjoy.
Chapter 20: Desolation
The stardestroyer Adjudicator took up a close orbit around Quo’nos, wings of TIE Interceptors roared through the star filled void in roving packs. Probe droids were returning from the surface of the planet carrying vital sensor information. The Executioner took up station on the opposite side of the planet, its own TIE fighters were forming up into hunting packs. Further out, beyond the low orbit of the stardestroyers was an emerald armada of Romulan warbirds, over two hundred strong.
The wreckage of the Klingon defense force’s fleet ringed the planet like a crown. The orbital defense batteries were slowly falling back into the atmosphere, blasted into hundreds of pieces by turbolaser batteries. Surface fires raged on the surface, particularly on the outskirts of some of the larger cities where planetary defensive guns and torpedo launchers had been vaporized by a rain of plasma torpedoes from the supporting provincial forces of warbirds.
Tarsi watched the subtle dance unfolding before his eyes. As a captain of the Empire’s finest warships, he was expected to carry out certain orders that solely his class of ship could accomplish. One of those missions was currently underway and it was one of the most devastating attacks an Imperial warship could make. A Base Delta Zero operation meant quite simply the utter destruction of a world. The entire civilization, the entire surface of the planet was to be wiped clean leaving nothing but the molten mantle beneath as a beacon to all other worlds of what the empire was capable of.
The empire was loathe to commit such operations on core worlds or strategically vital planets, it was usually reserved for Rim worlds and planets that had nothing of vital importance to the Empire. Obviously, Lord Darth Nemesis had decided that the Klingon homeworld was such a world, devoid of any importance but able to play a crucial role as an example to all. A new wrinkle was also added to the plan, Nemesis wanted the entire operation holotaped and played to the populace of the Romulan provinces. He promised them revenge for Remus and he was going to give it to them.
Tarsi nodded to his XO when he handed him a report. Tarsi glanced down at the datapad. An extremely detailed analysis of Quon’nos’s surface and geographical features had just been collated from the Adjudicator’s own sensor sweeps plus the more thorough and detailed analysis of the probe droids sent down to the planet. Major fault lines were clearly identified as were any volcanic areas or other areas of tectonic instability. It also identified and gave precise coordinates to underground facilities and bunkers. There was no escaping the Empire’s complete analysis of the planet.
Rebels especially liked to paint the utter barbaric nature of a BDZ, but it was anything but the simple slagging of a planet. This was a very organized and procedural operation involved in destroying a world and making it utterly useless to anyone. Planets were incredibly resilient things and it took an incredible amount of energy and force to render it lifeless.
“Are we certain that this is the deepest structure on their planet?” Tarsi asked pointing to a schematic of a mine shaft that drove several kilometers into the planet.
“Yes, sir. We have rechecked the sensor probes, they have very little in the way of subterranean military structures, there are many bunkers but most of them are on the surface. They obviously rely on their fleets and energy shields to protect them.” his XO replied.
“Have we been able to determine whether their cloaking devices work in an atmosphere? It would be quite an embarrassment if we fry this world only to discover later that several structures were buried deeply under cloak.” Tarsi stated gravely. He was well aware of the consequences to his command should a Base Delta Zero operation fail. One only failed a Sith Lord once.
“The Romulans have informed us that cloaking devices do indeed function in an atmosphere but they would be able to determine whether one was active. It seems that their cloaking fields are optimized for space combat and travel, not for atmospheric use.”
Tarsi nodded.
“Double check their probes, I trust our provincial allies as far as I can throw them.”
“I would like to point out sir that they have been completely reliable in combat. The Romulans have taken extremely heavy casualties since the offensive began.”
“Of course they have, the Klingons are better warriors, have better ships, that means nothing. They are also fighting to avenge their fallen world, not for the greater glory of the Empire. Never forget we are the intruders here, not them.” Tarsi quietly pointed out. His XO remained silent. They looked out the view port together.
Minutes passed as ships formed up and final analysis were made.
“Commence Base Delta Zero operations.” Tarsi ordered quietly. His XO nodded and smartly strode over to the weapons station.
“Commence operations immediately.”
“Aye sir.”
There was silence and stillness, as if the universe itself were collectively holding its breath. Then the Adjudicator unleashed a barrage of emerald turbolaser fire into the surface of Quo’nos. Fire rippled on the surface a second later as the bolts impacted with devastating effectiveness along the world’s most unstable and largest fault line. The Romulans began a systematic plasma torpedo bombardment of the major cities and population centers. TIE Interceptors quickly snapped around in tight formation as the first desperate transports began lifting off, fleeing the awesome bombardment that in its first barrage killed 37 Million Klingons instantly.
The Interceptors dove on them like hungry wolves, green blasts tearing away the shields and destroying the transports’ engines, sending them plunging back down to the dying planet, soon it looked like a dance of fireflies as hundreds of transports from small one and two man shuttles to large passenger liners were sent plummeting back into the atmosphere, trailing fire as they burned through the air.
“Jamming complete, all communications have been effectively cut off even emergency subspace boosters.” the communications officer reported as the heavy turbolasers fired for the first time in sequenced blasts that tore up the crust around the most volcanic region on the planet, exposing most of that area to toxic clouds of gas and red hot magma.
“Have provincial forces continue urban bombardment, begin deploying TIE Bomber squadrons for attack runs.”
“Aye sir.”
Tarsi watched another broadside lance down towards the now shattered world, the crust in most of the northern hemisphere of the planet was slowly blasted away revealing angry red lakes of magma and fire. He noted with pride the precision of the turbolaser strikes, each one walked up the planet’s geological stress points, pummeling them with gigatons of raw destructive power until they either broke or released the energy in shockwaves commonly known as earthquakes. It was the most efficient way to have the planet help them in their mission, by letting its own instabilities help them in stripping the world of its rocky crust.
It was impressive and chilling at the same time as an entire continent literally fell apart before his eyes, sinking with explosive force into the fiery mantle below, the rock splintering like so much rotten wood by the stress caused by the planet itself.
TIE Bomber squadrons formed up at the bow of the Adjudicator and began slow and deliberate diving attacks on the southern hemisphere, using special burrowing bombs that delivered their payload into the weak points of the planet’s crust in the south, preparing the way for the Adjudicator’s own turbolaser strikes. Completely unnecessary, of course, the Adjudicator could complete the job on its own, without the Bomber support but it sped up the process, gave his Bomber pilots valuable experience and most importantly of all it sent a statement. Nothing would be spared in striking back at the criminals that had destroyed Remus. He eyed out of the periphery of his vision the holocams steadily recording the entire operation in preparation for transmitting it to the Romulan empire.
“We have a dozen Birds of prey decloaking near the terminator trying to beam survivors aboard.” his XO warned.
“Who’s closest?”
“The Executioner.”
“Have her…no” Tarsi corrected himself. “Deploy a wing of warbirds and concentrate the holocams on the attack, I want the Romulans to see their fleet in splendid action.” Tarsi ordered cagily.
“Of course sir.” his XO replied with a soft smile.
Tarsi was not one to overlook the value of propaganda.
“We have complete and total destruction of the northern hemisphere, 47% of the total surface area destroyed or about to be destroyed, tectonic activity increasing significantly now.” his XO reported. Tarsi checked the chronometer.
22 minutes.
Excellent, well ahead of schedule.
“Standby for full weapons burst on Southern hemisphere.”
“Status of any escaping ships?”
His XO glanced down at a constantly scrolling tactical readout.
“Significant drop in activity. Picking up numerous distress calls.” He glanced up at Tarsi. “Not one call for mercy, sir.”
“They have fire and iron in their blood. These Klingons would prove to be fine additions to the Empire, unfortunately, I do not think that they will submit. A shame though.” Tarsi commented with a soft sigh as a full barrage lanced down to the planet again. He could see a distinct line between the northern and southern hemispheres now, the crust of the northern hemisphere was all but peeled away revealing the roiling sea of molten rock beneath.
An explosion of sparks and electricity blossomed off their far port bow. A string of transports appeared for a moment, outlined in tendrils of pale white energy. Tarsi sneered.
“The tachyon field we erected seems to be catching the cloaked fools rather easily. It seems our Romulan allies may not be so useless after all.” He commented dryly. His face suddenly darkened. “Blow them all into the void.”
“Aye sir.”
The Adjudicator picked off the transports that were still visible with turbolaser fire, switching to flak mode as soon as they knocked down the last visible transport. They could see dozens of explosions, large and small quickly follow the flak burst, a testament to their accuracy and the determination of the Klingons to escape.
“Operations on southern hemisphere underway, sir.”
Tarsi nodded as he watched the surface boil away under the merciless barrages of heavy fire. Entire mountain ranges were shattering like glass under the explosive force of the heavy turbolaser blasts. The oceans were in the process of boiling away, replaced by the relentless march of magma from the dying world.
“Casualties estimated at 3 billion, another 300 million have just died on what remains of the coast. The oceans are producing massive steam clouds that are boiling them alive where they stand.” His XO reported casually.
“Executioner’s status?”
“She is on schedule on her side of the planet. Estimate 12 more minutes before primary operations are complete. The Klingons are no longer transmitting anything, global power grid has been destroyed, massive damage caused by core breeches from their matter/antimatter has destroyed several urban centers. Ambient temperature has increased more than 150 degrees in the last 10 minutes. Atmospheric dust and debris are making the air poisonous.”
“If you don’t mind, stick to the status of the operation and spare me the gory details.” Tarsi said curtly. His XO nodded.
The rest of the operation continued apace, the Klingon transports and escape attempts simply ceased as Quo’nos was covered in thick black dust and smoke. He could no longer see the last of the southern hemisphere disappear into the hungry molten mantle of the planet.
It was over.
“Base Delta Zero primary operations are complete. Beginning reconnaissance and launching probe droids to detect success of operations.” His XO reported. Tarsi nodded.
He stared out the view port at the now lifeless world. A black cloud draped across it like a curtain, occasionally the angry red glare of molten rock peaked through the cloud cover. A world that had once provided life to over 7 billion Klingons was now reduced to a smoke choked world of ash and fire. There was no honor in this, no glory. Tarsi was feeling a dark anger gnawing in his heart. He was a warrior and he had come to this galaxy ready to conquer all in the name of the emperor.
Instead, he was laying waste to worlds, and acting as military governor to a world of scientists.
“This is the most horrible thing I have ever seen in my entire life.” A voice spoke for the first time on the bridge since the beginning of the BDZ operation. Tarsi turned his head slightly to gaze on Xon, the Vulcan that had been brought aboard as his liaison with the Vulcan government. He thought it a valuable object lesson to those under Imperial rule to see what they had avoided by surrendering and what they faced should rebellion ever come to their minds.
“This troubles you, Xon?” Tarsi asked coldly.
“It is a waste of material and lives. Logic dictates that it would have been far easier to bomb them into submission than commit genocide.”
Tarsi shook his head.
“When we entered this system, they reduced themselves to crashing their warships against is us in the vain hope that they would harm us in the act of self destruction. They are a warrior people, even at the height of the BDZ operation they did not send a single message pleading for mercy. Do you really think that bombardment would have changed anything?”
Xon did not reply immediately.
“I’ll tell you this one sad but very logical fact, Xon. These Klingons are brave warriors, great fighters and tenacious, and it is these same qualities which have doomed them.
Xon raised an inquisitive eyebrow.
Tarsi glanced back at the shattered world.
“This is merely the beginning. We will not waste time and troops on pacifying a race that will not be pacified. They’re stubborn courage and unyielding resolve has spelled the doom of their people.”
“You would entertain xenocide so casually?” Xon asked stonily.
Tarsi nodded.
“Xenocide, Xon? You have merely seen the beginning of what will happen to those who oppose us.” Tarsi answered.
“They have conquered Earth, shattered the back of the Federation and sent Starfleet into full retreat. Just what in the hell are you waiting for?” Jean Luc Picard thundered.
The rest of the assembled captains turned to look at Durant who was calmly sitting at the head of the conference room table on board his flagship the Bunker Hill. The conference room was enormous, easily housing the hundred or so captains sitting around the table comfortably.
“Calm yourself Captain.” Durant replied coolly.
“No I will not. I have been stolen from my previous life and forced to work amongst this shadow fleet only to see my precious Federation, the Federation that you claim we were built to defend and protect, fall apart to this savage invader.”
“Picard, how exactly do you propose we face off against this threat? A single one of their stardestroyers is rated as a Ragnarok level threat.” One captain at the other end of the table interjected.
“Picard, please sit down. This is not the Federation high council where debate and a sharp tongue will win the day. Passionate speeches will not dissuade me from one undeniable conclusion.”
“And what is that?” Picard asked sharply but slowly sitting back down.
“That we cannot directly oppose the Empire.”
Picard began to open his mouth.
“Yet.”
Picard closed his mouth and instead sat back and regarded the young man with a mixture of suspicion and exasperation. He had watched in horror as Imperial forces leading a vanguard of Romulan ships began a general invasion of the Federation. It quickly became obvious that the main target was Earth. The Empire drove straight to Earth, making it a point of blasting any Federation fleet that opposed them. Their drive had been brutal and swift. None could oppose them and the battle for Earth itself had been a route. Hundreds of starships had been destroyed, thousands of civilian and military personnel trying to escape killed or captured, including the Federation president.
It was a dark time for the Federation and this shadow fleet that Durant was so damned proud of had done nothing after their daring raid on the Romulan homeworlds. They retreated back to their secret base and watched as the Empire ran rampant through the quadrant. The Klingons were facing near certain extinction, thanks in most part to Durant’s tactic of using captured ships as a decoy to lay blame on the feet of other powers.
Picard felt impotent and guilty at the same time. He had not felt clean since Baku and this seemed to be another trial he had to face, a term in some twisted purgatory and he did not know if he would ever climb out of this place.
“What is the current political situation?” Durant asked one of his aides. The aide stood up and a holographic representation of Federation space flashed up on the screen.
“Unfortunately, the fall of Earth has triggered a near panic among Federation member worlds, particularly the new ones, there is a stampede to declare themselves neutral in the conflict, a handful of worlds have even gone so far as to offer their worlds to the Empire in exchange for protection.”
“I assume we have marked those worlds for later reference.” Durant interjected icily.
“Of course sir. Special operatives have already been dispatched with orders to destabilize those worlds as much as possible.”
“Wait a moment. Why are you marking those worlds?” Picard asked suspiciously.
Durant looked down the long table at Picard. He had admired this man when in the academy but it was difficult not to want to shake some sense into him. Those high Federation ideals he was clinging to were obviously not going to get them out of this situation. He fervently hoped that Picard would eventually come to his senses. Many of the command ranks were questioning his worth at the moment. Some had even slyly suggested that perhaps he should meet some form of “accident”. Durant had vehemently opposed such actions and forcefully reminded them of their own adjustment to this new life and way of thinking. Picard was the paragon of Federation thought and philosophy so of course his adjustment period would be more difficult.
Durant did not want to admit even to himself that he viewed Picard as a hero. Even now, he admired him for standing against them and their collective decisions.
That did not mean that he was not annoyed at Picard.
“Those worlds are traitors to the Federation, Picard. Would you deny that?” Durant asked pointedly.
“They are reacting from terror, Durant. Can’t you see that? Some of those worlds have only joined six months ago, in the wake of the Dominion war’s end. They joined for peace and stability, I should know, I brokered many of those treaties during the Dominion War.” Picard replied.
“I can see that they are unwilling to make stand when one is called for, I can see that they have betrayed the Federation in both action and deed and as such they have been marked for these actions to be dealt with by us at a later date.”
“You can’t possibly mean to make military strikes against them.” Picard breathed.
“Picard, they themselves have declared that they are on the side of darkness. They want to be Imperial worlds, well, they’ll be treated like Imperial worlds. They are now valid targets for attack.”
“You would rather attack former member worlds of the Federation that are acting out of a sense of self preservation than the true threat? That Imperial fleet is the cause of this chaos. We need to be focusing on destroying them, not bombing some world that had no choice but to join or face their own last stand.” Picard exclaimed.
“Picard, you really are a frustrating man!” Durant snapped in a rare loss of control.
“I am making my own stand, Durant. This fleet is needed now more than ever and we sit here in conferences debating when we should be out attacking.”
“Picard, a wise commander looks for weakness before striking. The reason why Starfleet had its ass handed to them in the Battle for Earth is because they did not know their enemy. But I am not going to make the same mistake. Believe me, when the time comes we will strike, but until then, we will bide our time. Or would you prefer we be destroyed in some futile gesture of defiance?” Durant replied hotly.
Picard stared at the young man, feeling the heat rising on his face. Durant was right on some level. Picard wanted to act out of an urge to strike back and avenge the losses he had seen so far. But that would not win them any victories. The sad fact was that they were woefully outmatched and Durant was painfully correct. They had to wait for a moment of weakness.
He sat back in frustration.
“Which brings me to the next point. Picard, I have a mission for you.”
Picard glanced up slowly.
Durant smiled.
“You’re going to love this, it plays right to your strengths.”
“This I have to hear.” Picard replied cautiously.
The Federation fleet had come out of warp on the far side of the Arcadia system. Hundreds of light years from Earth. It was a testament to Starfleet’s caution that they had waited until now to finally drop out of warp where they were relatively safe and enter normal space. They were not taking any chances with the Empire’s obvious FTL advantage. It was a further sign of their caution that they had waited this long because so many of the fleet’s ships were so badly damaged, their warp cores in serious danger of breaching. It was a difficult fact that two starships had indeed been lost in out of control warp core breaches while in transit and a half dozen others had fallen behind as their warp drives simply failed to keep up with the rest of the fleet.
Hundreds of starships slowed as they slipped in the shadow of the largest gas giant of the system. Repair crews were moving throughout the ships in a flurry of activity. Shuttle craft, runabouts and a handful of Delta Flyers quickly moved in to dock with mother ships, many of the smaller ships had nearly burned out their warp drives to keep up with the fleet, functioning far beyond their designed standard endurance range. The exodus of starships had finally paused long enough to take a breath and rest.
Admiral Ross watched this sight unfurling on his screen and he shook his head slowly.
“Any sign of Imperial pursuit?”
“None sir, looks like we lost them.”
“More likely they simply lost interest in pursuit. They have what they wanted.” Ross muttered.
“Sir, the transports are signaling, the Federation High Council members as well as ambassadors are demanding the use of our facilities for an emergency meeting of the Federation High Council.” His communications officer reported.
Ross nodded.
“I suppose it is only proper. We have to continue the functioning of the government in order to let Federation citizens know that the Federation has not been destroyed. We’re wounded but not out.” He sighed. “Prepare to receive the High Council members and representatives.”
“Sir, Captain Kirk also wanted me to remind you that he wanted to address the fleet captains as soon as we were secure.” His Xo whispered to him beside his command chair. Ross frowned.
“Kirk.” He muttered. He rubbed his chin slowly and stared at the fleet on his view screen. “What the hell are we going to do about Kirk?”
Leia sat up suddenly. She caught her breath The terror and pain were still strong in her heart and she glanced around quickly, aware that she was not in familiar surroundings. She was sitting up in the middle of a cargo bay. Hundreds of people were lying around, most sleeping, some were being tended to by doctors and nurses and some were simply sitting up or leaning against crates reading or staring off into the distance. The lights in the cargo bay were dimmed and she could only clearly make out those that were closest to her.
She slipped back the standard survival blanket she was given and rubbed her legs as she examined her surroundings. Chewbacca was sitting back against a crate, watching her intently, bow caster draped across his massive legs. He grunted something quizzically.
“No, it’s Okay, Chewie, just a bad dream.”
Chewbacca nodded slowly. He could guess what it was that she had dreamt of, he had the same dreams from time to time.
“Take care of the princess.” the voice asked him intently.
Chewbacca shook off the memory.
Leia turned her head slightly and noted Artoo sitting right beside her, his small squat body was dark, save for a single red light on in his main optical port. He turned his domed head to regard her and he beeped something.
“Yes, Artoo, I’m fine it was just a dream.” she replied with a small yawn.
She could still here the heavy mechanical breathing in the background. The cold clutches of the Imperial troops as they roughly pulled him away.
She heard something to her left and she glanced down. Someone was wrapped in his own survival blanket and was slowly tossing and turning, a small moan escaping their lips. She peered down and simultaneously remembered what had happened to bring her here. In the confusion of the escape, the Reckless Hope had already jumped into hyperspace to escape the Imperial fleet, they would reach the rendezvous point in a matter of hours, it would take the Federation fleet days to get there.
Kirk had her beamed over to the Enterprise, not his Enterprise but another one, one that was obviously more advanced. She was still a little confused as to the state of Kirk and his ship. He was a man out of time, the thought still fascinated her. Such things were an impossibility back home, but these people had obviously found a way to tamper with the very fabric of space time.
During the escape the fleet had picked up many refugees from the shattered remnants of the fleet defending Earth. Escaping starships would try to beam as many survivors from dying starships as possible. It was only after they were underway that the fleet realized they were facing a crisis of space. Each starship had beamed over hundreds of survivors, well over the usual limit of passengers and crew. Some starships had over five times the number of people they could comfortably hold.
Cargo bays, empty storage lockers, anything that could cram a few people in was opened to the newcomers. There was also the inevitable medical issue. Every sickbay was filled to overflowing, with many more patients stacked out in the hallways leading to sickbay. The sea of humanity that was flooding the ships was a testament to the losses suffered in what many were calling the Battle for Sector 001.
Kirk was offered a quarters of his own by Captain Riker but Kirk adamantly refused and instead decided to bunk out in the Enterprise’s cavernous cargo bay with the rest of his crew. Leia quickly followed suit, she would not be able to get to her own ship for the next few days while they were in transit.
During that time, Kirk and Spock had been huddling together planning some sort of counter attack. It was obvious from watching the pair that they were accustomed with working with each other. Leis detected true camaraderie and even friendship between the two men, well one was a Vulcan. McCoy had disappeared at the start of the flight, spending all his time in sickbay tending to the wounded.
These were remarkable men, it was a sad fate to think that they were facing nearly certain defeat at the hands of the Empire…and Luke. She had seen his face, anger and hatred were etched across his features like acid. He desperately needed to escape from the shadows that were so obviously consuming him.
Kirk moaned again. This time it was a name.
“Edith.” His face twisted into a strange combination of pain and determination and suddenly his eyes snapped open.
“Edith!”
Leia quickly placed a cool hand on his forehead and gripped his shoulder.
“It’s alright, Jim. Calm down, you’re among friends.” she whispered, not wanting to disturb the others. There were many shell-shocked people in this bay and most had not slept in days. Those that were finally sleeping needed it desperately.
Kirk looked around for a moment, eyes wide with shock and pain. He slowly shook it off and slid into a sitting up position.
“Where are we?”
“We have just reached the rendezvous point. They’ll probably start getting people reassigned to ships with more space. I’m sure the Reckless Hope will be taking on some of your more seriously wounded, we can use some of our medical technology to help you.”
Kirk took a deep breath,
“I haven’t had that dream in months.” he muttered.
“Was Edith…your wife?” she asked hesitantly, not wanting to hurt him anymore than the dream had obviously done.
“No.” he answered slowly. “No, she was a woman I loved…and lost.” he answered.
“I’m sorry, Jim. I guess that gives us something in common.”
“Oh?”
“I’ve lost someone I loved too. I don’t know if I’ll ever get him back.” she replied surprised at her sudden honesty.
Kirk stared into her eyes for a long moment and she returned the gaze steadily.
“Captain.” Spock appeared by Kirk’s side.
“Mr. Spock.” Kirk replied, not taking his eyes off Leia.
“Admiral Ross has informed Captain Riker that permission for us to address the fleet captains has been denied.”
Kirk frowned bitterly.
“He also requests our presence at a meeting of the Federation High Council commencing on his ship in 2 hours.”
“What in the hell can they possibly discuss?! We need action now! Unless command is blind morale is pretty much at rock bottom, we need a victory if we are to keep on fighting!” Kirk snapped angrily.
Leia slipped a hand on his shoulder.
“Calm down, Jim. We’ll get through this. Perhaps if we put some pressure on your government we can get some results.” she added helpfully.
Artoo trundled over to Kirk and beeped a few encouraging tones. Kirk smiled absently and patted the droid on his domed head.
“Thanks, little buddy, I could use some encouraging right now because I’m starting to have a sinking feeling as to why the Federation High Council is having a meeting.” Kirk replied darkly.
Spock arched an eyebrow but Leia peered closely into Kirk’s eyes and she could tell precisely what he was thinking. If that was true, the war was over before it had begun, and she was stuck in a galaxy with no hope for return.
Kirk suddenly stood up as if he had been stung.
“I’ll be damned if I’m going to let that happen, I want an emergency meeting with my command staff right now.” Kirk ordered.
Spock nodded and began weaving his way through the crowded hangar deck, gently tapping the shoulders of Kirk’s command staff.
He glanced over at Leia.
“This is not over, not by a long shot.” he vowed.
Somehow, she knew he was right. He would see things through. The question that hung over her heart was whether it would make any difference.
“Check the list again.” Tom Paris urged.
The crewman nodded slowly and glanced back down at his datapad.
“I’m sure everything is alright.” Wes Janson assured his new friend. They had flown in the cramped quarters of the Delta Flyer all the way from Earth. Four days of constant warp travel with no breaks. The rations had barely lasted as long, and Wes slept well enough, he was used to less than ideal conditions as a rebel fighter, but Tom had suffered gravely, mostly because he was worried about his wife.
“Everything better be alright. I told her to get on those transports. I don’t want to think that maybe she decided to remain behind with my son. It would be horrible to think of her behind enemy lines, especially when it looks like we’re not going to heading back to Earth anytime soon.” Tom replied darkly.
“Which reminds me, “ Wes began. “We have a lot of weird names for worlds back home, but this is your homeworld and you call it dirt?” Wes asked curiously.
“Earth.” Tom replied stressing the word.
“Yeah, I know, but doesn’t that essentially mean dirt?” Wes asked.
Tom rolled his eyes.
“The official name is Terra.”
Wes paused for a moment.
“Oh, OK.”
“Actually, Terra is a Latin word meaning Earth.” a Vulcan standing behind them in line interjected.
“Do you mind? We were having a private conversation, I didn’t realize that butting in was a logical thing to do.” Tom replied hastily.
Wes smiled.
“So you know that it means dirt, why?”
“Can we discuss this another time.” Tom replied in exasperation.
He turned to hurry the crewman up but froze as he caught the look in the young man’s eyes. He was holding a different datapad than before.
“Sir, I checked the crew manifests for the transports that came with us and she does not appear sir, but to be thorough I had the computer check all the transport manifests…”
Tom felt his blood turn to ice and his heart stop.
“Sir, I’m sorry, she was on the presidential transport when it went down. I’m afraid she is dead.”
Tom did not remember fainting or Wes catching him before he hit the deck.
Captain Ochoa did not stir from his place in the corner of his cell. He rarely slept on the metallic slab provided for him as a bed. He felt far more comfortable on the cold metallic floor, feeling the draft of the environmental systems slowly circulating air through the detention block. The alarms that he heard earlier had finally stopped and the rush of people through the halls had dwindled to nothing.
That had been hours ago.
Now he sat in the corner, legs drawn up to his chin, he stared at the door, or at least where he thought the door was and contemplated the darkness around him.
He heard someone approach the door, and his ears perked up as some words were exchanged and the door slowly slid open. Someone entered the cell. They were quiet for a moment, just the sound of breathing.
“Han?” Ochoa asked reluctantly.
“It’s me.” the young voice replied slowly.
Ochoa remained silent for a moment.
“I guess you kept your head down.” he added.
Han slowly moved to Ochoa’s left, where he knew the slab of a bed was opened out of the wall. He heard Han slowly take a seat on the edge of the slab. He heard the soft rustle of clothes and thought it sounded as if he were searching for something in his jacket or shirt.
“I did. The battle was short but intense, your people accounted well for themselves, particularly those defending Starfleet command.”
Ochoa waited impatiently. He had been on edge since the battle began.
“I managed to get a message to your wife.” Ochoa sighed softly. “She was no where near any of the drop zones so as far as she was concerned, an invasion was not underway.” he paused. “She also sent a reply message.”
Ochoa paused.
“A reply?” he asked incredulously.
“Yes. She responded quickly, as if she were expecting to hear from you. A remarkable woman, and your daughter as well. She knew full well that she was communicating with a soldier of the empire, but she did not care. She merely wanted to know about you.”
Ochoa slowly looked up in the general direction of his friend.
“Will you please read it to me?” he asked.
“No.”
Ochoa froze, mouth open in astonishment.
“No?” he whispered feeling a sharp pang of betrayal.
“Not until you tell me something.” Han asked hesitantly.
“What?” Ochoa asked suspiciously.
“Why do you still believe?”
“What?”
“You’re sitting in a holding cell, no chance of rescue, you will most likely die hear, you will never see your family again, you most likely will never SEE again, and your government has been exposed as a liar and a fraud. You have fought and suffered for a government that has lied to you and betrayed your citizens and members of your own family.” Han pressed.
“You sound awfully desperate.” Ochoa answered after a moment of silence that almost hummed in the small cell.
“Answer the question or I’ll erase this message.” Han replied bitterly.
Ochoa held up a warding hand.
“Fine, fine. You want to know why I sit here and still believe?”
“Yes.”
“Because there is nothing better out there. Because if I do not believe in the Federation then what do I have to believe in? I believe in the ideals we stand for, because I believe that men and all sentient beings have a right to freedom, equality and justice. I believe that we were born free and no government, entity or person has a right to strip that freedom from us, because I believe that our thoughts and beliefs should not be controlled by outside forces. Freedom, Han, is the right to believe what you want to believe and not be punished for it. To quote an old Earth text, it is the right to say 2+2=4. Were I to abandon those beliefs then I would have to embrace the way of the warrior, like the Klingons who believe that honor and death should be what controls life. Or I would have to embrace the idea of governmental control of all thoughts and actions as the Cardasians and Romulans believe. I would have to look to profit and greed to be my guides if the Ferengi are to be believed. Or I can look to the Dominion and see that I am nothing more than a child that needs to be guided by mysterious gods that know what to do with us, that will guide us from crib to grave because we don’t know any better.” He paused. “Or I can look to an autocratic government that flings young men and women into battle to conquer worlds that have no need or use for them all for the greater glory of an emperor who views his subjects as tools and means to an ends.”
Stony silence from the other end of the cell.
“Because, Han, no one is perfect. You are not the perfect soldier of the empire, for you question your own mandates and rules and you fraternize with the enemy.” There was an uncomfortable shift of weight on the metallic slab opposite him.
“I am not perfect because in my eagerness I attacked a foe that I thought I could defeat, and in my arrogance I allowed them to strip me of my beliefs and reduce me to a shadow of my formal self, but here in the darkness, alone with nothing but my thoughts I have found myself again and I found that because I am not perfect and no one else is, how can I expect my government to be perfect? The Federation is an ideal. It fails many times to live up to that ideal but the struggle, Han, is not in achieving that ideal, but in learning from the mistakes in getting there. How can I blame them for failing, Han.” Ochoa reached out and touched Han’s knee, squeezing it gently as his voice dropped. “Han, at least the Federation TRIES. Freedom is not an easy thing to live with or defend, it is an awful mistress that taunts and challenges us, but at least we try to reach those lofty heights. We have not taken the easy way out, we have not embraced our darker natures, we embrace the light we hold ourselves up to an ideal that we can never achieve PRECISELY because by trying to achieve it we better ourselves. In other words, my friend, even in failing we achieve some greatness in ourselves.”
Ochoa stopped and sat back, waiting for what response he would get, have expecting to hear the holotape erasing at the flick of a switch.
He heard nothing but their breathing for a long time, he could not measure the passage of time but the tension was palpable.
“I use to believe, Ochoa. But they lied to me.” he heard the whispered answer.
“Who lied to you?” Ochoa asked.
Han cleared his throat.
“You’ve been an honorable man, Ochoa. you said what you really felt instead of saying what you thought you wanted me to hear…for that, I will read you the message.”
Ochoa smiled softly.
“I do believe that I am threatening the King.” he announced to no one in particular, but his silver eyes flashed dangerously as he finished placing the piece in the center of the board.
Q smirked as he looked out over the board.
“As long as we have this piece, I don’t think your threats carry much weight.” Q replied wanly as he placed the Constitution class piece in a defensive position away from the piece represented by the Emperor’s Will.
“He is becoming irrelevant.”
“Really?!”
The silver eyed player stared at Q for a long moment. Q returned the gaze with a smile.
“He’s supposed to be dead!” he snarled slamming his fist on the board. It cracked at the impact sending some pieces flying and the stone stand on which the board was laid out shattered down the center.
“Many have claimed such before.”
“He should have died when he first met the Imperial forces, at the very least it should be him in the holding cell, blind and faith shattered, not some fool captain no one has ever heard of!” he boomed. “He should have died when he went into the wormhole searching for help but instead he escapes and brings an outside player into the mix.” he hissed as Q fingered a piece represented by a princess, resplendent in white gown. “He should have died in the Battle for Earth, but he escapes, in the face of Nemesis himself!!” he roared and the jet black sky above them cracked as lightning exploded overhead.
“Point in fact, my recently omnipotent friend, he should have died on Dimorus.” Q casually stated, not looking at him as he twirled another piece on his finger tip.
The silver eyed player paused in his tirade, mouth slightly open. Q noted with a measure of disdain that despite protestations of godhood, the silver eyed one’s chest still heaved from exertion and emotion, obviously a reflex action from his lowly origins.
“Dimorus?” he repeated the name with some trepidation. Slowly, realization dawned on his silver eyes.
“Dimorus.” he hissed the name as if he were trying to spit something venomous out of his mouth. His hand absently went to his back and a shadow of phantom pain flashed across his face.
“You know those rodent things on Dimorus, those spears they threw, I took one meant for you.” the silver eyed player whispered, as if he were speaking to someone else.
“Powerful venom in those spears…you were extremely lucky to have survived my remarkable friend.” Q stated wanly.
The silver eyed player stared as if he were looking somewhere far off.
“Weeks in a regen tank, days of constant toxic flushing of my blood…I didn’t care…he was safe.”
“He was your friend.” Q pressed softly.
The silver eyed player glanced down at the Constitution cruiser playing piece.
“Jim.” he whispered.
Q remained silent.
Suddenly the silver eyed player’s face flushed in anger and he picked up the piece and crushed it, tendrils of electricity running down his arms. He whirled on Q.
“Dimorus.” he said it like a death sentence.
Q felt the surge of raw power and it lanced by him like a hammer.
“What did you do?!” Q exclaimed without thinking. He simply followed the power strike to its final conclusion with a second’s thought.
“Dimorus’ presence will no longer offend me.” he stated icily and suddenly the board was back in place, the stone stand repaired and the sky was as dark as before.
Q felt it. The death of a planet. The rodent things as he called them, the Xalev as they called themselves died in an apocalyptic flash of energy. He shook his head.
“Have you no sense of decency? You slaughtered the inhabitants of a world that did you no wrong, that could never harm you. The poison you experienced would later be used by your scientists to cure Bergman’s Plague, but it was native to that world so millions will suffer needlessly. They sang songs as their primary way of language, one of those songs would later inspire a generation to look to the stars and join the brotherhood of space farers, no longer. Many years from now, one of them would go on to be the greatest artist this galaxy has seen in millennia, no longer so.” Q said evenly, a dangerous edge in his voice.
The silver eyed player stared at him and a slow smile crept across his face.
“Compassion and godhood are a fool’s mixture, Q. Morality is for humans, not gods.” he boomed.
“What you could never know is that as gods we walk a very fine line, morality is a pale attempt BY humanity to be as gods.”
The silver eyed player slowly looked down at the board.
“I think it will be check and mate in four more moves.” he declared.
Enjoy.
Chapter 20: Desolation
The stardestroyer Adjudicator took up a close orbit around Quo’nos, wings of TIE Interceptors roared through the star filled void in roving packs. Probe droids were returning from the surface of the planet carrying vital sensor information. The Executioner took up station on the opposite side of the planet, its own TIE fighters were forming up into hunting packs. Further out, beyond the low orbit of the stardestroyers was an emerald armada of Romulan warbirds, over two hundred strong.
The wreckage of the Klingon defense force’s fleet ringed the planet like a crown. The orbital defense batteries were slowly falling back into the atmosphere, blasted into hundreds of pieces by turbolaser batteries. Surface fires raged on the surface, particularly on the outskirts of some of the larger cities where planetary defensive guns and torpedo launchers had been vaporized by a rain of plasma torpedoes from the supporting provincial forces of warbirds.
Tarsi watched the subtle dance unfolding before his eyes. As a captain of the Empire’s finest warships, he was expected to carry out certain orders that solely his class of ship could accomplish. One of those missions was currently underway and it was one of the most devastating attacks an Imperial warship could make. A Base Delta Zero operation meant quite simply the utter destruction of a world. The entire civilization, the entire surface of the planet was to be wiped clean leaving nothing but the molten mantle beneath as a beacon to all other worlds of what the empire was capable of.
The empire was loathe to commit such operations on core worlds or strategically vital planets, it was usually reserved for Rim worlds and planets that had nothing of vital importance to the Empire. Obviously, Lord Darth Nemesis had decided that the Klingon homeworld was such a world, devoid of any importance but able to play a crucial role as an example to all. A new wrinkle was also added to the plan, Nemesis wanted the entire operation holotaped and played to the populace of the Romulan provinces. He promised them revenge for Remus and he was going to give it to them.
Tarsi nodded to his XO when he handed him a report. Tarsi glanced down at the datapad. An extremely detailed analysis of Quon’nos’s surface and geographical features had just been collated from the Adjudicator’s own sensor sweeps plus the more thorough and detailed analysis of the probe droids sent down to the planet. Major fault lines were clearly identified as were any volcanic areas or other areas of tectonic instability. It also identified and gave precise coordinates to underground facilities and bunkers. There was no escaping the Empire’s complete analysis of the planet.
Rebels especially liked to paint the utter barbaric nature of a BDZ, but it was anything but the simple slagging of a planet. This was a very organized and procedural operation involved in destroying a world and making it utterly useless to anyone. Planets were incredibly resilient things and it took an incredible amount of energy and force to render it lifeless.
“Are we certain that this is the deepest structure on their planet?” Tarsi asked pointing to a schematic of a mine shaft that drove several kilometers into the planet.
“Yes, sir. We have rechecked the sensor probes, they have very little in the way of subterranean military structures, there are many bunkers but most of them are on the surface. They obviously rely on their fleets and energy shields to protect them.” his XO replied.
“Have we been able to determine whether their cloaking devices work in an atmosphere? It would be quite an embarrassment if we fry this world only to discover later that several structures were buried deeply under cloak.” Tarsi stated gravely. He was well aware of the consequences to his command should a Base Delta Zero operation fail. One only failed a Sith Lord once.
“The Romulans have informed us that cloaking devices do indeed function in an atmosphere but they would be able to determine whether one was active. It seems that their cloaking fields are optimized for space combat and travel, not for atmospheric use.”
Tarsi nodded.
“Double check their probes, I trust our provincial allies as far as I can throw them.”
“I would like to point out sir that they have been completely reliable in combat. The Romulans have taken extremely heavy casualties since the offensive began.”
“Of course they have, the Klingons are better warriors, have better ships, that means nothing. They are also fighting to avenge their fallen world, not for the greater glory of the Empire. Never forget we are the intruders here, not them.” Tarsi quietly pointed out. His XO remained silent. They looked out the view port together.
Minutes passed as ships formed up and final analysis were made.
“Commence Base Delta Zero operations.” Tarsi ordered quietly. His XO nodded and smartly strode over to the weapons station.
“Commence operations immediately.”
“Aye sir.”
There was silence and stillness, as if the universe itself were collectively holding its breath. Then the Adjudicator unleashed a barrage of emerald turbolaser fire into the surface of Quo’nos. Fire rippled on the surface a second later as the bolts impacted with devastating effectiveness along the world’s most unstable and largest fault line. The Romulans began a systematic plasma torpedo bombardment of the major cities and population centers. TIE Interceptors quickly snapped around in tight formation as the first desperate transports began lifting off, fleeing the awesome bombardment that in its first barrage killed 37 Million Klingons instantly.
The Interceptors dove on them like hungry wolves, green blasts tearing away the shields and destroying the transports’ engines, sending them plunging back down to the dying planet, soon it looked like a dance of fireflies as hundreds of transports from small one and two man shuttles to large passenger liners were sent plummeting back into the atmosphere, trailing fire as they burned through the air.
“Jamming complete, all communications have been effectively cut off even emergency subspace boosters.” the communications officer reported as the heavy turbolasers fired for the first time in sequenced blasts that tore up the crust around the most volcanic region on the planet, exposing most of that area to toxic clouds of gas and red hot magma.
“Have provincial forces continue urban bombardment, begin deploying TIE Bomber squadrons for attack runs.”
“Aye sir.”
Tarsi watched another broadside lance down towards the now shattered world, the crust in most of the northern hemisphere of the planet was slowly blasted away revealing angry red lakes of magma and fire. He noted with pride the precision of the turbolaser strikes, each one walked up the planet’s geological stress points, pummeling them with gigatons of raw destructive power until they either broke or released the energy in shockwaves commonly known as earthquakes. It was the most efficient way to have the planet help them in their mission, by letting its own instabilities help them in stripping the world of its rocky crust.
It was impressive and chilling at the same time as an entire continent literally fell apart before his eyes, sinking with explosive force into the fiery mantle below, the rock splintering like so much rotten wood by the stress caused by the planet itself.
TIE Bomber squadrons formed up at the bow of the Adjudicator and began slow and deliberate diving attacks on the southern hemisphere, using special burrowing bombs that delivered their payload into the weak points of the planet’s crust in the south, preparing the way for the Adjudicator’s own turbolaser strikes. Completely unnecessary, of course, the Adjudicator could complete the job on its own, without the Bomber support but it sped up the process, gave his Bomber pilots valuable experience and most importantly of all it sent a statement. Nothing would be spared in striking back at the criminals that had destroyed Remus. He eyed out of the periphery of his vision the holocams steadily recording the entire operation in preparation for transmitting it to the Romulan empire.
“We have a dozen Birds of prey decloaking near the terminator trying to beam survivors aboard.” his XO warned.
“Who’s closest?”
“The Executioner.”
“Have her…no” Tarsi corrected himself. “Deploy a wing of warbirds and concentrate the holocams on the attack, I want the Romulans to see their fleet in splendid action.” Tarsi ordered cagily.
“Of course sir.” his XO replied with a soft smile.
Tarsi was not one to overlook the value of propaganda.
“We have complete and total destruction of the northern hemisphere, 47% of the total surface area destroyed or about to be destroyed, tectonic activity increasing significantly now.” his XO reported. Tarsi checked the chronometer.
22 minutes.
Excellent, well ahead of schedule.
“Standby for full weapons burst on Southern hemisphere.”
“Status of any escaping ships?”
His XO glanced down at a constantly scrolling tactical readout.
“Significant drop in activity. Picking up numerous distress calls.” He glanced up at Tarsi. “Not one call for mercy, sir.”
“They have fire and iron in their blood. These Klingons would prove to be fine additions to the Empire, unfortunately, I do not think that they will submit. A shame though.” Tarsi commented with a soft sigh as a full barrage lanced down to the planet again. He could see a distinct line between the northern and southern hemispheres now, the crust of the northern hemisphere was all but peeled away revealing the roiling sea of molten rock beneath.
An explosion of sparks and electricity blossomed off their far port bow. A string of transports appeared for a moment, outlined in tendrils of pale white energy. Tarsi sneered.
“The tachyon field we erected seems to be catching the cloaked fools rather easily. It seems our Romulan allies may not be so useless after all.” He commented dryly. His face suddenly darkened. “Blow them all into the void.”
“Aye sir.”
The Adjudicator picked off the transports that were still visible with turbolaser fire, switching to flak mode as soon as they knocked down the last visible transport. They could see dozens of explosions, large and small quickly follow the flak burst, a testament to their accuracy and the determination of the Klingons to escape.
“Operations on southern hemisphere underway, sir.”
Tarsi nodded as he watched the surface boil away under the merciless barrages of heavy fire. Entire mountain ranges were shattering like glass under the explosive force of the heavy turbolaser blasts. The oceans were in the process of boiling away, replaced by the relentless march of magma from the dying world.
“Casualties estimated at 3 billion, another 300 million have just died on what remains of the coast. The oceans are producing massive steam clouds that are boiling them alive where they stand.” His XO reported casually.
“Executioner’s status?”
“She is on schedule on her side of the planet. Estimate 12 more minutes before primary operations are complete. The Klingons are no longer transmitting anything, global power grid has been destroyed, massive damage caused by core breeches from their matter/antimatter has destroyed several urban centers. Ambient temperature has increased more than 150 degrees in the last 10 minutes. Atmospheric dust and debris are making the air poisonous.”
“If you don’t mind, stick to the status of the operation and spare me the gory details.” Tarsi said curtly. His XO nodded.
The rest of the operation continued apace, the Klingon transports and escape attempts simply ceased as Quo’nos was covered in thick black dust and smoke. He could no longer see the last of the southern hemisphere disappear into the hungry molten mantle of the planet.
It was over.
“Base Delta Zero primary operations are complete. Beginning reconnaissance and launching probe droids to detect success of operations.” His XO reported. Tarsi nodded.
He stared out the view port at the now lifeless world. A black cloud draped across it like a curtain, occasionally the angry red glare of molten rock peaked through the cloud cover. A world that had once provided life to over 7 billion Klingons was now reduced to a smoke choked world of ash and fire. There was no honor in this, no glory. Tarsi was feeling a dark anger gnawing in his heart. He was a warrior and he had come to this galaxy ready to conquer all in the name of the emperor.
Instead, he was laying waste to worlds, and acting as military governor to a world of scientists.
“This is the most horrible thing I have ever seen in my entire life.” A voice spoke for the first time on the bridge since the beginning of the BDZ operation. Tarsi turned his head slightly to gaze on Xon, the Vulcan that had been brought aboard as his liaison with the Vulcan government. He thought it a valuable object lesson to those under Imperial rule to see what they had avoided by surrendering and what they faced should rebellion ever come to their minds.
“This troubles you, Xon?” Tarsi asked coldly.
“It is a waste of material and lives. Logic dictates that it would have been far easier to bomb them into submission than commit genocide.”
Tarsi shook his head.
“When we entered this system, they reduced themselves to crashing their warships against is us in the vain hope that they would harm us in the act of self destruction. They are a warrior people, even at the height of the BDZ operation they did not send a single message pleading for mercy. Do you really think that bombardment would have changed anything?”
Xon did not reply immediately.
“I’ll tell you this one sad but very logical fact, Xon. These Klingons are brave warriors, great fighters and tenacious, and it is these same qualities which have doomed them.
Xon raised an inquisitive eyebrow.
Tarsi glanced back at the shattered world.
“This is merely the beginning. We will not waste time and troops on pacifying a race that will not be pacified. They’re stubborn courage and unyielding resolve has spelled the doom of their people.”
“You would entertain xenocide so casually?” Xon asked stonily.
Tarsi nodded.
“Xenocide, Xon? You have merely seen the beginning of what will happen to those who oppose us.” Tarsi answered.
“They have conquered Earth, shattered the back of the Federation and sent Starfleet into full retreat. Just what in the hell are you waiting for?” Jean Luc Picard thundered.
The rest of the assembled captains turned to look at Durant who was calmly sitting at the head of the conference room table on board his flagship the Bunker Hill. The conference room was enormous, easily housing the hundred or so captains sitting around the table comfortably.
“Calm yourself Captain.” Durant replied coolly.
“No I will not. I have been stolen from my previous life and forced to work amongst this shadow fleet only to see my precious Federation, the Federation that you claim we were built to defend and protect, fall apart to this savage invader.”
“Picard, how exactly do you propose we face off against this threat? A single one of their stardestroyers is rated as a Ragnarok level threat.” One captain at the other end of the table interjected.
“Picard, please sit down. This is not the Federation high council where debate and a sharp tongue will win the day. Passionate speeches will not dissuade me from one undeniable conclusion.”
“And what is that?” Picard asked sharply but slowly sitting back down.
“That we cannot directly oppose the Empire.”
Picard began to open his mouth.
“Yet.”
Picard closed his mouth and instead sat back and regarded the young man with a mixture of suspicion and exasperation. He had watched in horror as Imperial forces leading a vanguard of Romulan ships began a general invasion of the Federation. It quickly became obvious that the main target was Earth. The Empire drove straight to Earth, making it a point of blasting any Federation fleet that opposed them. Their drive had been brutal and swift. None could oppose them and the battle for Earth itself had been a route. Hundreds of starships had been destroyed, thousands of civilian and military personnel trying to escape killed or captured, including the Federation president.
It was a dark time for the Federation and this shadow fleet that Durant was so damned proud of had done nothing after their daring raid on the Romulan homeworlds. They retreated back to their secret base and watched as the Empire ran rampant through the quadrant. The Klingons were facing near certain extinction, thanks in most part to Durant’s tactic of using captured ships as a decoy to lay blame on the feet of other powers.
Picard felt impotent and guilty at the same time. He had not felt clean since Baku and this seemed to be another trial he had to face, a term in some twisted purgatory and he did not know if he would ever climb out of this place.
“What is the current political situation?” Durant asked one of his aides. The aide stood up and a holographic representation of Federation space flashed up on the screen.
“Unfortunately, the fall of Earth has triggered a near panic among Federation member worlds, particularly the new ones, there is a stampede to declare themselves neutral in the conflict, a handful of worlds have even gone so far as to offer their worlds to the Empire in exchange for protection.”
“I assume we have marked those worlds for later reference.” Durant interjected icily.
“Of course sir. Special operatives have already been dispatched with orders to destabilize those worlds as much as possible.”
“Wait a moment. Why are you marking those worlds?” Picard asked suspiciously.
Durant looked down the long table at Picard. He had admired this man when in the academy but it was difficult not to want to shake some sense into him. Those high Federation ideals he was clinging to were obviously not going to get them out of this situation. He fervently hoped that Picard would eventually come to his senses. Many of the command ranks were questioning his worth at the moment. Some had even slyly suggested that perhaps he should meet some form of “accident”. Durant had vehemently opposed such actions and forcefully reminded them of their own adjustment to this new life and way of thinking. Picard was the paragon of Federation thought and philosophy so of course his adjustment period would be more difficult.
Durant did not want to admit even to himself that he viewed Picard as a hero. Even now, he admired him for standing against them and their collective decisions.
That did not mean that he was not annoyed at Picard.
“Those worlds are traitors to the Federation, Picard. Would you deny that?” Durant asked pointedly.
“They are reacting from terror, Durant. Can’t you see that? Some of those worlds have only joined six months ago, in the wake of the Dominion war’s end. They joined for peace and stability, I should know, I brokered many of those treaties during the Dominion War.” Picard replied.
“I can see that they are unwilling to make stand when one is called for, I can see that they have betrayed the Federation in both action and deed and as such they have been marked for these actions to be dealt with by us at a later date.”
“You can’t possibly mean to make military strikes against them.” Picard breathed.
“Picard, they themselves have declared that they are on the side of darkness. They want to be Imperial worlds, well, they’ll be treated like Imperial worlds. They are now valid targets for attack.”
“You would rather attack former member worlds of the Federation that are acting out of a sense of self preservation than the true threat? That Imperial fleet is the cause of this chaos. We need to be focusing on destroying them, not bombing some world that had no choice but to join or face their own last stand.” Picard exclaimed.
“Picard, you really are a frustrating man!” Durant snapped in a rare loss of control.
“I am making my own stand, Durant. This fleet is needed now more than ever and we sit here in conferences debating when we should be out attacking.”
“Picard, a wise commander looks for weakness before striking. The reason why Starfleet had its ass handed to them in the Battle for Earth is because they did not know their enemy. But I am not going to make the same mistake. Believe me, when the time comes we will strike, but until then, we will bide our time. Or would you prefer we be destroyed in some futile gesture of defiance?” Durant replied hotly.
Picard stared at the young man, feeling the heat rising on his face. Durant was right on some level. Picard wanted to act out of an urge to strike back and avenge the losses he had seen so far. But that would not win them any victories. The sad fact was that they were woefully outmatched and Durant was painfully correct. They had to wait for a moment of weakness.
He sat back in frustration.
“Which brings me to the next point. Picard, I have a mission for you.”
Picard glanced up slowly.
Durant smiled.
“You’re going to love this, it plays right to your strengths.”
“This I have to hear.” Picard replied cautiously.
The Federation fleet had come out of warp on the far side of the Arcadia system. Hundreds of light years from Earth. It was a testament to Starfleet’s caution that they had waited until now to finally drop out of warp where they were relatively safe and enter normal space. They were not taking any chances with the Empire’s obvious FTL advantage. It was a further sign of their caution that they had waited this long because so many of the fleet’s ships were so badly damaged, their warp cores in serious danger of breaching. It was a difficult fact that two starships had indeed been lost in out of control warp core breaches while in transit and a half dozen others had fallen behind as their warp drives simply failed to keep up with the rest of the fleet.
Hundreds of starships slowed as they slipped in the shadow of the largest gas giant of the system. Repair crews were moving throughout the ships in a flurry of activity. Shuttle craft, runabouts and a handful of Delta Flyers quickly moved in to dock with mother ships, many of the smaller ships had nearly burned out their warp drives to keep up with the fleet, functioning far beyond their designed standard endurance range. The exodus of starships had finally paused long enough to take a breath and rest.
Admiral Ross watched this sight unfurling on his screen and he shook his head slowly.
“Any sign of Imperial pursuit?”
“None sir, looks like we lost them.”
“More likely they simply lost interest in pursuit. They have what they wanted.” Ross muttered.
“Sir, the transports are signaling, the Federation High Council members as well as ambassadors are demanding the use of our facilities for an emergency meeting of the Federation High Council.” His communications officer reported.
Ross nodded.
“I suppose it is only proper. We have to continue the functioning of the government in order to let Federation citizens know that the Federation has not been destroyed. We’re wounded but not out.” He sighed. “Prepare to receive the High Council members and representatives.”
“Sir, Captain Kirk also wanted me to remind you that he wanted to address the fleet captains as soon as we were secure.” His Xo whispered to him beside his command chair. Ross frowned.
“Kirk.” He muttered. He rubbed his chin slowly and stared at the fleet on his view screen. “What the hell are we going to do about Kirk?”
Leia sat up suddenly. She caught her breath The terror and pain were still strong in her heart and she glanced around quickly, aware that she was not in familiar surroundings. She was sitting up in the middle of a cargo bay. Hundreds of people were lying around, most sleeping, some were being tended to by doctors and nurses and some were simply sitting up or leaning against crates reading or staring off into the distance. The lights in the cargo bay were dimmed and she could only clearly make out those that were closest to her.
She slipped back the standard survival blanket she was given and rubbed her legs as she examined her surroundings. Chewbacca was sitting back against a crate, watching her intently, bow caster draped across his massive legs. He grunted something quizzically.
“No, it’s Okay, Chewie, just a bad dream.”
Chewbacca nodded slowly. He could guess what it was that she had dreamt of, he had the same dreams from time to time.
“Take care of the princess.” the voice asked him intently.
Chewbacca shook off the memory.
Leia turned her head slightly and noted Artoo sitting right beside her, his small squat body was dark, save for a single red light on in his main optical port. He turned his domed head to regard her and he beeped something.
“Yes, Artoo, I’m fine it was just a dream.” she replied with a small yawn.
She could still here the heavy mechanical breathing in the background. The cold clutches of the Imperial troops as they roughly pulled him away.
She heard something to her left and she glanced down. Someone was wrapped in his own survival blanket and was slowly tossing and turning, a small moan escaping their lips. She peered down and simultaneously remembered what had happened to bring her here. In the confusion of the escape, the Reckless Hope had already jumped into hyperspace to escape the Imperial fleet, they would reach the rendezvous point in a matter of hours, it would take the Federation fleet days to get there.
Kirk had her beamed over to the Enterprise, not his Enterprise but another one, one that was obviously more advanced. She was still a little confused as to the state of Kirk and his ship. He was a man out of time, the thought still fascinated her. Such things were an impossibility back home, but these people had obviously found a way to tamper with the very fabric of space time.
During the escape the fleet had picked up many refugees from the shattered remnants of the fleet defending Earth. Escaping starships would try to beam as many survivors from dying starships as possible. It was only after they were underway that the fleet realized they were facing a crisis of space. Each starship had beamed over hundreds of survivors, well over the usual limit of passengers and crew. Some starships had over five times the number of people they could comfortably hold.
Cargo bays, empty storage lockers, anything that could cram a few people in was opened to the newcomers. There was also the inevitable medical issue. Every sickbay was filled to overflowing, with many more patients stacked out in the hallways leading to sickbay. The sea of humanity that was flooding the ships was a testament to the losses suffered in what many were calling the Battle for Sector 001.
Kirk was offered a quarters of his own by Captain Riker but Kirk adamantly refused and instead decided to bunk out in the Enterprise’s cavernous cargo bay with the rest of his crew. Leia quickly followed suit, she would not be able to get to her own ship for the next few days while they were in transit.
During that time, Kirk and Spock had been huddling together planning some sort of counter attack. It was obvious from watching the pair that they were accustomed with working with each other. Leis detected true camaraderie and even friendship between the two men, well one was a Vulcan. McCoy had disappeared at the start of the flight, spending all his time in sickbay tending to the wounded.
These were remarkable men, it was a sad fate to think that they were facing nearly certain defeat at the hands of the Empire…and Luke. She had seen his face, anger and hatred were etched across his features like acid. He desperately needed to escape from the shadows that were so obviously consuming him.
Kirk moaned again. This time it was a name.
“Edith.” His face twisted into a strange combination of pain and determination and suddenly his eyes snapped open.
“Edith!”
Leia quickly placed a cool hand on his forehead and gripped his shoulder.
“It’s alright, Jim. Calm down, you’re among friends.” she whispered, not wanting to disturb the others. There were many shell-shocked people in this bay and most had not slept in days. Those that were finally sleeping needed it desperately.
Kirk looked around for a moment, eyes wide with shock and pain. He slowly shook it off and slid into a sitting up position.
“Where are we?”
“We have just reached the rendezvous point. They’ll probably start getting people reassigned to ships with more space. I’m sure the Reckless Hope will be taking on some of your more seriously wounded, we can use some of our medical technology to help you.”
Kirk took a deep breath,
“I haven’t had that dream in months.” he muttered.
“Was Edith…your wife?” she asked hesitantly, not wanting to hurt him anymore than the dream had obviously done.
“No.” he answered slowly. “No, she was a woman I loved…and lost.” he answered.
“I’m sorry, Jim. I guess that gives us something in common.”
“Oh?”
“I’ve lost someone I loved too. I don’t know if I’ll ever get him back.” she replied surprised at her sudden honesty.
Kirk stared into her eyes for a long moment and she returned the gaze steadily.
“Captain.” Spock appeared by Kirk’s side.
“Mr. Spock.” Kirk replied, not taking his eyes off Leia.
“Admiral Ross has informed Captain Riker that permission for us to address the fleet captains has been denied.”
Kirk frowned bitterly.
“He also requests our presence at a meeting of the Federation High Council commencing on his ship in 2 hours.”
“What in the hell can they possibly discuss?! We need action now! Unless command is blind morale is pretty much at rock bottom, we need a victory if we are to keep on fighting!” Kirk snapped angrily.
Leia slipped a hand on his shoulder.
“Calm down, Jim. We’ll get through this. Perhaps if we put some pressure on your government we can get some results.” she added helpfully.
Artoo trundled over to Kirk and beeped a few encouraging tones. Kirk smiled absently and patted the droid on his domed head.
“Thanks, little buddy, I could use some encouraging right now because I’m starting to have a sinking feeling as to why the Federation High Council is having a meeting.” Kirk replied darkly.
Spock arched an eyebrow but Leia peered closely into Kirk’s eyes and she could tell precisely what he was thinking. If that was true, the war was over before it had begun, and she was stuck in a galaxy with no hope for return.
Kirk suddenly stood up as if he had been stung.
“I’ll be damned if I’m going to let that happen, I want an emergency meeting with my command staff right now.” Kirk ordered.
Spock nodded and began weaving his way through the crowded hangar deck, gently tapping the shoulders of Kirk’s command staff.
He glanced over at Leia.
“This is not over, not by a long shot.” he vowed.
Somehow, she knew he was right. He would see things through. The question that hung over her heart was whether it would make any difference.
“Check the list again.” Tom Paris urged.
The crewman nodded slowly and glanced back down at his datapad.
“I’m sure everything is alright.” Wes Janson assured his new friend. They had flown in the cramped quarters of the Delta Flyer all the way from Earth. Four days of constant warp travel with no breaks. The rations had barely lasted as long, and Wes slept well enough, he was used to less than ideal conditions as a rebel fighter, but Tom had suffered gravely, mostly because he was worried about his wife.
“Everything better be alright. I told her to get on those transports. I don’t want to think that maybe she decided to remain behind with my son. It would be horrible to think of her behind enemy lines, especially when it looks like we’re not going to heading back to Earth anytime soon.” Tom replied darkly.
“Which reminds me, “ Wes began. “We have a lot of weird names for worlds back home, but this is your homeworld and you call it dirt?” Wes asked curiously.
“Earth.” Tom replied stressing the word.
“Yeah, I know, but doesn’t that essentially mean dirt?” Wes asked.
Tom rolled his eyes.
“The official name is Terra.”
Wes paused for a moment.
“Oh, OK.”
“Actually, Terra is a Latin word meaning Earth.” a Vulcan standing behind them in line interjected.
“Do you mind? We were having a private conversation, I didn’t realize that butting in was a logical thing to do.” Tom replied hastily.
Wes smiled.
“So you know that it means dirt, why?”
“Can we discuss this another time.” Tom replied in exasperation.
He turned to hurry the crewman up but froze as he caught the look in the young man’s eyes. He was holding a different datapad than before.
“Sir, I checked the crew manifests for the transports that came with us and she does not appear sir, but to be thorough I had the computer check all the transport manifests…”
Tom felt his blood turn to ice and his heart stop.
“Sir, I’m sorry, she was on the presidential transport when it went down. I’m afraid she is dead.”
Tom did not remember fainting or Wes catching him before he hit the deck.
Captain Ochoa did not stir from his place in the corner of his cell. He rarely slept on the metallic slab provided for him as a bed. He felt far more comfortable on the cold metallic floor, feeling the draft of the environmental systems slowly circulating air through the detention block. The alarms that he heard earlier had finally stopped and the rush of people through the halls had dwindled to nothing.
That had been hours ago.
Now he sat in the corner, legs drawn up to his chin, he stared at the door, or at least where he thought the door was and contemplated the darkness around him.
He heard someone approach the door, and his ears perked up as some words were exchanged and the door slowly slid open. Someone entered the cell. They were quiet for a moment, just the sound of breathing.
“Han?” Ochoa asked reluctantly.
“It’s me.” the young voice replied slowly.
Ochoa remained silent for a moment.
“I guess you kept your head down.” he added.
Han slowly moved to Ochoa’s left, where he knew the slab of a bed was opened out of the wall. He heard Han slowly take a seat on the edge of the slab. He heard the soft rustle of clothes and thought it sounded as if he were searching for something in his jacket or shirt.
“I did. The battle was short but intense, your people accounted well for themselves, particularly those defending Starfleet command.”
Ochoa waited impatiently. He had been on edge since the battle began.
“I managed to get a message to your wife.” Ochoa sighed softly. “She was no where near any of the drop zones so as far as she was concerned, an invasion was not underway.” he paused. “She also sent a reply message.”
Ochoa paused.
“A reply?” he asked incredulously.
“Yes. She responded quickly, as if she were expecting to hear from you. A remarkable woman, and your daughter as well. She knew full well that she was communicating with a soldier of the empire, but she did not care. She merely wanted to know about you.”
Ochoa slowly looked up in the general direction of his friend.
“Will you please read it to me?” he asked.
“No.”
Ochoa froze, mouth open in astonishment.
“No?” he whispered feeling a sharp pang of betrayal.
“Not until you tell me something.” Han asked hesitantly.
“What?” Ochoa asked suspiciously.
“Why do you still believe?”
“What?”
“You’re sitting in a holding cell, no chance of rescue, you will most likely die hear, you will never see your family again, you most likely will never SEE again, and your government has been exposed as a liar and a fraud. You have fought and suffered for a government that has lied to you and betrayed your citizens and members of your own family.” Han pressed.
“You sound awfully desperate.” Ochoa answered after a moment of silence that almost hummed in the small cell.
“Answer the question or I’ll erase this message.” Han replied bitterly.
Ochoa held up a warding hand.
“Fine, fine. You want to know why I sit here and still believe?”
“Yes.”
“Because there is nothing better out there. Because if I do not believe in the Federation then what do I have to believe in? I believe in the ideals we stand for, because I believe that men and all sentient beings have a right to freedom, equality and justice. I believe that we were born free and no government, entity or person has a right to strip that freedom from us, because I believe that our thoughts and beliefs should not be controlled by outside forces. Freedom, Han, is the right to believe what you want to believe and not be punished for it. To quote an old Earth text, it is the right to say 2+2=4. Were I to abandon those beliefs then I would have to embrace the way of the warrior, like the Klingons who believe that honor and death should be what controls life. Or I would have to embrace the idea of governmental control of all thoughts and actions as the Cardasians and Romulans believe. I would have to look to profit and greed to be my guides if the Ferengi are to be believed. Or I can look to the Dominion and see that I am nothing more than a child that needs to be guided by mysterious gods that know what to do with us, that will guide us from crib to grave because we don’t know any better.” He paused. “Or I can look to an autocratic government that flings young men and women into battle to conquer worlds that have no need or use for them all for the greater glory of an emperor who views his subjects as tools and means to an ends.”
Stony silence from the other end of the cell.
“Because, Han, no one is perfect. You are not the perfect soldier of the empire, for you question your own mandates and rules and you fraternize with the enemy.” There was an uncomfortable shift of weight on the metallic slab opposite him.
“I am not perfect because in my eagerness I attacked a foe that I thought I could defeat, and in my arrogance I allowed them to strip me of my beliefs and reduce me to a shadow of my formal self, but here in the darkness, alone with nothing but my thoughts I have found myself again and I found that because I am not perfect and no one else is, how can I expect my government to be perfect? The Federation is an ideal. It fails many times to live up to that ideal but the struggle, Han, is not in achieving that ideal, but in learning from the mistakes in getting there. How can I blame them for failing, Han.” Ochoa reached out and touched Han’s knee, squeezing it gently as his voice dropped. “Han, at least the Federation TRIES. Freedom is not an easy thing to live with or defend, it is an awful mistress that taunts and challenges us, but at least we try to reach those lofty heights. We have not taken the easy way out, we have not embraced our darker natures, we embrace the light we hold ourselves up to an ideal that we can never achieve PRECISELY because by trying to achieve it we better ourselves. In other words, my friend, even in failing we achieve some greatness in ourselves.”
Ochoa stopped and sat back, waiting for what response he would get, have expecting to hear the holotape erasing at the flick of a switch.
He heard nothing but their breathing for a long time, he could not measure the passage of time but the tension was palpable.
“I use to believe, Ochoa. But they lied to me.” he heard the whispered answer.
“Who lied to you?” Ochoa asked.
Han cleared his throat.
“You’ve been an honorable man, Ochoa. you said what you really felt instead of saying what you thought you wanted me to hear…for that, I will read you the message.”
Ochoa smiled softly.
“I do believe that I am threatening the King.” he announced to no one in particular, but his silver eyes flashed dangerously as he finished placing the piece in the center of the board.
Q smirked as he looked out over the board.
“As long as we have this piece, I don’t think your threats carry much weight.” Q replied wanly as he placed the Constitution class piece in a defensive position away from the piece represented by the Emperor’s Will.
“He is becoming irrelevant.”
“Really?!”
The silver eyed player stared at Q for a long moment. Q returned the gaze with a smile.
“He’s supposed to be dead!” he snarled slamming his fist on the board. It cracked at the impact sending some pieces flying and the stone stand on which the board was laid out shattered down the center.
“Many have claimed such before.”
“He should have died when he first met the Imperial forces, at the very least it should be him in the holding cell, blind and faith shattered, not some fool captain no one has ever heard of!” he boomed. “He should have died when he went into the wormhole searching for help but instead he escapes and brings an outside player into the mix.” he hissed as Q fingered a piece represented by a princess, resplendent in white gown. “He should have died in the Battle for Earth, but he escapes, in the face of Nemesis himself!!” he roared and the jet black sky above them cracked as lightning exploded overhead.
“Point in fact, my recently omnipotent friend, he should have died on Dimorus.” Q casually stated, not looking at him as he twirled another piece on his finger tip.
The silver eyed player paused in his tirade, mouth slightly open. Q noted with a measure of disdain that despite protestations of godhood, the silver eyed one’s chest still heaved from exertion and emotion, obviously a reflex action from his lowly origins.
“Dimorus?” he repeated the name with some trepidation. Slowly, realization dawned on his silver eyes.
“Dimorus.” he hissed the name as if he were trying to spit something venomous out of his mouth. His hand absently went to his back and a shadow of phantom pain flashed across his face.
“You know those rodent things on Dimorus, those spears they threw, I took one meant for you.” the silver eyed player whispered, as if he were speaking to someone else.
“Powerful venom in those spears…you were extremely lucky to have survived my remarkable friend.” Q stated wanly.
The silver eyed player stared as if he were looking somewhere far off.
“Weeks in a regen tank, days of constant toxic flushing of my blood…I didn’t care…he was safe.”
“He was your friend.” Q pressed softly.
The silver eyed player glanced down at the Constitution cruiser playing piece.
“Jim.” he whispered.
Q remained silent.
Suddenly the silver eyed player’s face flushed in anger and he picked up the piece and crushed it, tendrils of electricity running down his arms. He whirled on Q.
“Dimorus.” he said it like a death sentence.
Q felt the surge of raw power and it lanced by him like a hammer.
“What did you do?!” Q exclaimed without thinking. He simply followed the power strike to its final conclusion with a second’s thought.
“Dimorus’ presence will no longer offend me.” he stated icily and suddenly the board was back in place, the stone stand repaired and the sky was as dark as before.
Q felt it. The death of a planet. The rodent things as he called them, the Xalev as they called themselves died in an apocalyptic flash of energy. He shook his head.
“Have you no sense of decency? You slaughtered the inhabitants of a world that did you no wrong, that could never harm you. The poison you experienced would later be used by your scientists to cure Bergman’s Plague, but it was native to that world so millions will suffer needlessly. They sang songs as their primary way of language, one of those songs would later inspire a generation to look to the stars and join the brotherhood of space farers, no longer. Many years from now, one of them would go on to be the greatest artist this galaxy has seen in millennia, no longer so.” Q said evenly, a dangerous edge in his voice.
The silver eyed player stared at him and a slow smile crept across his face.
“Compassion and godhood are a fool’s mixture, Q. Morality is for humans, not gods.” he boomed.
“What you could never know is that as gods we walk a very fine line, morality is a pale attempt BY humanity to be as gods.”
The silver eyed player slowly looked down at the board.
“I think it will be check and mate in four more moves.” he declared.
Wherever you go, there you are.
Ripped Shirt Monkey - BOTMWriter's Guild Cybertron's Finest Justice League
This updated sig brought to you by JME2
Ripped Shirt Monkey - BOTMWriter's Guild Cybertron's Finest Justice League
This updated sig brought to you by JME2
-
Darth Eris
- Youngling
- Posts: 55
- Joined: 2002-09-11 03:13pm
- Location: Sea of Chaos
A few grammar problems, but otherwise great! Keep it up!
Reality. The final frontier.
"The ability to speak does not make one intelligent." - Qui-gon Jinn
Pay homage unto the great Caffeine-kami, for her blessings are plenty and necessary to all college students.
Build a man a fire, and he'll be warm for a day. Set a man on fire and he'll be warm for the rest of his life.
"The ability to speak does not make one intelligent." - Qui-gon Jinn
Pay homage unto the great Caffeine-kami, for her blessings are plenty and necessary to all college students.
Build a man a fire, and he'll be warm for a day. Set a man on fire and he'll be warm for the rest of his life.