Episode I
An Old Hope
Following the destruction of the Death Star, the GALACTIC EMPIRE has
contracted to build a new super weapon, a Super Star Destroyer, while also
secretly building a second Death Star. Construction has fallen behind on
the space cruiser and the lord Darth Vader is racing to complete it so
that the Empire can eradicate the traitorous REBEL ALLIANCE.
In another galaxy, the Federation Starship U.S.S. Enterprise has been
assigned to Driedarrel VI to study the uncharacteristic seismic activity
ripping the planet apart.
Meanwhile, the Rebels search for a new base and settle on the plains land
planet of Valkek which is unknowingly near the site of the Empire's new
secret weapon which threatens the entire galaxy....
Chapter One
Overture
A small squadron of TIE fighters escorted a customized TIE from the
planet's surface below. They pulled into the hangar of the massive white
Star Destroyer orbiting over the small planet Cholk. The hangar bay was
carpeted with the white uniformed stormtroopers and grey clad Imperial
officers standing in a massive crowd, making way for the promenade
accustomed to the dark figure Darth Vader, Dark Lord of the Sith, and the
small entourage of fighter pilots who followed closely behind him. Admiral
Garrison strode forward to meet the approaching lord.
"Lord Vader," he greeted. "Welcome to the Barricade." Vader's
hollow breath was all that he received in return. "We have prepared
chambers for you."
"No need, Admiral Garrison," Vader's deep pounding voice boomed. "I
intend only to be aboard for a brief tenure during my passage to the
construction docks on Tradic. Construction on my flagship Executor seems
to have deteriorated. I have come to deal with the situation and remedy
it. As of now, I am in charge."
"Yes, Lord Vader. We shall be there momentarily." Garrison looked
uncomfortable. "My Lord," he started, uncertain as how to phrase this.
"The hyperdrive on this ship is down, unfortunately. It was damaged in the
asteroid field outside Membose-"
"That does not concern me, Admiral," Vader interrupted. "I wish to
get to Tradic as soon as possible."
"Yes sir," Garrison nearly stammered out. The inflection in his
voice was unmistakably of relief. "We shall be there within the hour."
"Good. And see to it that this ship is repaired properly. I shall
not want a Star Destroyer unfit for battle."
Garrison's smiled vanished. "Ye-yes, my lord." This time he could not
hide the tremor in his voice. He had slimly managed to retain the approval
of Darth Vader. However, as Vader walked on ahead, the admiral could not
help but pity the poor souls in charge of construction of the Executor.
Captain's Log, Stardate: 45532.6
We are en route to the Driedarrel system where there has been some
uncharacteristic seismic activity on Driedarrel VI. On board we have the
Federation's foremost expert on seismology, Dr. Lilian Direidri. As
ordered, we are to deliver Dr. Direidri to the planet and oversee her
tests here on the Enterprise. Commander LaForge and Commander Data shall
aide her in her operations in any way necessary.
Picard sat back in his chair and switched off the log. He sighed
heavily, not escaping Riker's notice. Riker himself was not paying much
mind to the crew, he was regarding the viewscreen with his usual gaze of
wonder at the uncharted regions laying before him, but mostly of a man
bored out of his skull. He often sat like this for hours on end, just
staring out into space, dreaming of the untold wonders. But Riker was not
one to confine himself to just the unexplored areas of space, he was
willing to risk himself for the unknowns of other territories as well.
Ensign Carrington took her position at the Conn station, tapping Ensign
Thomas on the shoulder to inform him that his shift was over. She
obstructed Riker's view of the screen, but he was no longer looking at
that uncharted territory. He smiled as Carrington seated herself and
logged in.
After all, there was not much happening on the bridge. Pulling his
attention away from her for a moment, Riker glanced around at the rest of
the bridge crew and they all seemed to be busily doing nothing-except
Data, of course, who was simultaneously studying the writings of Victor
Hugo, analyzing the Romulan attack structure, helping Dr. Direidri by
formulating some theories and experiments that they could apply when they
arrived at Driedarrel VI, and listening to the complete works of a
twentieth-century composer named John Williams. Troi was nearly nodding
off in the seat to Picard's left, Worf was acting stoic above Riker by
standing rigidly at attention and routinely overlooking the sensors, and
Picard was sighing. It was clearly another one of the many droll days on
the Enterprise bridge. Sighing inwardly himself, Riker turned back to
Ensign Carrington. If he were to be doing nothing, he might as well
imagine he were doing something.
A disturbing beep sounded at the station behind Picard's head.
Both he and Riker turned their attention back but Riker was the one who
spoke. "Report, Lieutenant."
Lt. Worf paused a bit, gathering as much information as he could
before reporting. "Sensors indicate a ship approaching."
"Do you have any identification?" Riker asked.
Again a pause. The Klingon's face was a mesh of repressed rage and
frustrating confusion, but then again, he always looked that way when
regarding visitors, Riker reminded himself. "Negative. Sensors measure it
at 989.21453 meters in length."
"Distance, Mr. Data," Picard said.
"Three point four light years away," he reported. "They are
approaching at a speed of warp 9.98"
"Warp 9.98?" Riker exasperated in disbelief.
"That is correct," Data responded.
"How far are we from Driedarrel?" Picard asked.
"Exactly one hour, twelve minutes, and fifty-four seconds."
"Any identification yet, Mr. Worf?"
Picard's communicator beeped. "Direidri to Picard."
"Not now!" Picard snapped.
"But captain, I have some questions about when we arrive-"
"Doctor, we have sighted an as of now unidentified ship approaching
at an unprecedented speed. I have no time to bother with any matters but
this, so please kindly clear the airwaves."
Worf checked over the console once again and broke into Picard's
conversation. At first Picard appeared relieved to have a break, but when
he heard the newsx
"The ship appears to be cube-shaped," Worf reported. He paused and
looked up, an expression of fear and hatred on his face. "Sir, it's the
Borg."
The crew held their collective breaths. Riker could vicariously
feel the chill running up Picard's spine. Troi regarded the captain with
sympathy, but to his credit Picard did not even flinch. "Captain, I
apologize," Dr. Direidri said softly and broke communication.
Picard faced the screen and calmly, under the concerned scrutiny
of the bridge crew, said, "Mr. Worf, go to yellow alert."
The golden droid waddled up next to the squat R2 unit and somehow managed
a perplexed expression on his fixed metallic face. R2-D2 bleeped something
unintelligible but C-3PO responded nonetheless.
"I don't know where we're going, Artoo," he said. "Master Luke just
told us to get aboard the Millennium Falcon and prepare to leave." Another
bleep from his friend. "No, I do not think it would be a good idea to plug
into the Millennium Falcon's computer to find out where we're headed. You
remember how Captain Solo reacted the last time."
Artoo bleeped a sigh.
"Come on, Artoo, Threepio," came the voice of Luke Skywalker from
behind as he passed the duo and disappeared up the ramp and into the
Falcon. Han Solo, Chewbacca, and Princess Leia followed behind, lost in
conversation.
"You wanna find your own ride there, Your Highness?" Solo mocked.
Leia breathed heavily. "You know I would if it were possible. But
we've abandoned the Yavin base and the other ships are full. The Falcon,
unfortunately, is the only ship free right now."
"We can always leave you here," Solo smiled devilishly. Leia
returned a hurt look. Han spun and disappeared into the ship. "Come on
Chewie, let's blow this place."
Chewie shrugged an apology to the princess and followed Solo. Leia shook
her head. "That manxUgh!" She screamed and charged up the ramp into the
ship.
Artoo and Threepio stood at the foot of the ramp, feeling slightly
rejected because of the way they were totally ignored. Artoo bleeped
inquisitively. "No," Threepio answered, "I don't think they like each
other." The two droids worked their way up the ramp as it closed.
The Falcon's engines fired up and the ship slowly raised from the
platform. Solo navigated the ship towards the bay doors, pulled back on
the throttle, and the ship burst away from the space port. In the cockpit
Solo gazed over the controls as Chewbacca sat at his right and Leia and
Luke filled out the rear seats. "Make yourself comfortable," Solo said.
"It's gonna be a while."
"I'm just glad we're away from Boxxlair," Luke commented.
"Sorry it wasn't to your liking, kid." Solo's tone was mocking.
Luke ignored his comment. Leia comforted him, tossing a grimace in
Solo's direction. "I'm with you Luke, Boxxlair was not my idea of a great
place for Rebels."
"I never said it'd be a great place to stay, just a place to lay
low. I spent quite a few days there in my days as a smuggler." Han kept
his attention on the console as he spoke. "I'll get you to Valkek to
rendezvous with the Alliance, Princess, don't worry. They won't have
started without you."
"I'm not concerned about them starting without me; I'm worried
about making it there alive with you at the helm."
Solo had an injured expression but turned his cheek so that Leia did not
see him. "Just sit back, sweetheart, and I'll show you what I'm capable
of. Chewie, prepare for lightspeed."
Chewie growled.
"You don't have to impress me," Leia protested.
"I'm not trying to impress you," Han defended. "You're just in a
hurry. Everything ready?" he regarded the Wookiee. Chewie growled again,
but there was an uneasiness in his voice that was quite evident to all in
the cockpit. Han ignored it. "All right. Hit it."
Chewie pulled the hyperdrive motivator and the Millennium Falcon shot
off through a stream of stars.
Chapter Two
They, Borg
The bridge of the Star Destroyer Barricade was littered with Imperial
officers decked with trim grey uniforms as they performed the everyday
routine of ship maintenance and operations. The pit, the console
compartments located below the main section of the bridge on either side
of the walkways, was vibrant with activity albeit somewhat uneasy about
the presence of Darth Vader aboard the ship. Vader was reputed to be
ruthless and unforgiving of mistakes, but a great tactical advisor and
pilot. The former being the reason for the uneasiness amongst the crew.
And no one was as uneasy as Admiral Garrison. Being in charge of the
ship, he answered personally to Lord Vader, and should anything go wrong,
Garrison would be held responsible. Thus far the trip had proven
uneventful, but there was no telling how long it would last.
"Sir," one of the crewmen addressed the Admiral. "Message from
Cassax. General Firell wishes to speak with you."
Garrison approached the screen. "General, this is Admiral
Garrison. What can I do for you?"
"I have a message for you, for Lord Vader," his grainy screen image
said.
"What about? Lord Vader is very busy."
"It's about the materials for the Executor. We seem to have lost a
shipment. We believe the Rebels have intercepted a cargo freighter in the
Valkek system."
"Yes, yes, General, do not tell me. I won't be the one to inform
Lord Vader of your failures. I will inform him immediately that you wish
to speak with him."
"But Admiral, it's not my fault. The shipment was lost. The Rebels
intercepted it. There's nothing that I could do about it. Why can't you
just-"
"Because, my dear general, it is not my problem. I am merely
transporting Lord Vader to Tradic to oversee the completion of his
flagship. Any delay will have severe penalties. I do not want any
repercussions upon myself. Good day, General." The screen shut off and
Garrison smiled. "I will inform Lord Vader of the message immediately," he
said to no one in particular. "Carry on." Garrison turned on his heel and
left the bridge, bound for Vader's chambers.
Vader had decided to take a command room, complete with conference
table and display screens for his chambers after turning down normal
quarters. As Garrison approached the door a deep voice sounded from inside
the room. "Come in, Admiral."
Vader's apparent clairvoyance always put Garrison ill at ease,
even more so than the dark lord's mere presence. But Garrison was in
charge and it was his responsibility to report to Vader personally. "Lord
Vader," he said, bowing slightly. "There is a message from the Cassax
station. General Firell wishes to speak with you."
"Very well, put him on screen."
"And Lord Vader, we are approaching Tradic."
"Excellent, Admiral. Forget General Firell. I will deal with him
later. Prepare my fighter. I shall be transporting to the Executor when
we are within range. I wish to speak with Grand Moff Thrush."
Captain's Log, Supplemental.
We have sighted a Borg ship as we approach the Driedarrel system. We are
moving to intercept and have requested assistance from Starfleet Command
as soon as possible. We estimate that we will contact the Borg in 1.2
hours at present speed and course. There appears to be no way to avoid a
confrontation. We have warned Driedarrel VI of the Borg presence and
regret that we shall not make the rendezvous as scheduled.
"Any changes, Mr. Data?" Picard asked after completing his log and
switching off his console. Since they had spotted the Borg, that was all
they had done. Worf had placed them on yellow alert as ordered and the
golden panel pulsated across the walls of the bridge. Picard hated to go
into battle; this was an exploratory vessel with families on board, not a
battleship. However, when it came to the Borg, he knew that a
confrontation was inevitable. He just prayed that it did not get too
bloody.
"No change, Captain," the android answered. The bridge was silent
as the crew prepared to be awaiting their doom. Even Counselor Troi, who
usually kept her concerns about the situation in check, portrayed her own
feelings for once, as opposed to reflecting the crew's attitude.
"Then let us reconvene in the conference lounge and discuss our
options. Bring your imaginations, people. I want any and all ideas." The
senior officers left for the conference lounge as Picard announced the
same message to Doctor Crusher and Commander LaForge, who were not on the
bridge. Finally he stood and stepped into the conference lounge himself,
leaving Ensign Carrington with the bridge.
Lord Vader seemed to peer at Grand Moff Thrush, even through the mask. The
governor shrank back under the Lord's scrutiny. "You will have my ship
operational within the hour," Vader boomed, not asking Thrush's opinion
but commanding that it be so.
Thrush peered through the corner of his eye at the men writhing on
the ground, gasping for breath. They were the labor commissioner and the
chief engineer previously in charge of construction of Darth Vader's
flagship, the Super Star Destroyer Executor, under Thrush's command. It
was enough to convince him to obey.
"Yes, Lord Vader. With extra man-power, I see no reason for any
delay. We will be finished on time. Some of the finishing touches will
take a while, however."
"Fine. I wish to run a test of this ship's capabilities shortly.
Tell Admiral Garrison to repair his hyperdrive at Valkek and then report
to the Death Star. And have four Star Destroyers brought there as well.
They shall best serve the Empire by guarding the station. We will continue
with the test momentarily.
"Due to the incompetence of the engineers, my flagship is
ill-prepared. They have been dealt with. I have spared you to complete
construction immediately. Do not be so careless to disappoint me again,
Moff Thrush. I trust you will be more expedient."
"As you ordered, my lord," Thrush bowed.
Picard took his time before entering the conference lounge, partly for the
crew to prepare ideas of their own as well as for Picard to pull himself
together. He did not envy an encounter with the Borg, considering the
lasting effects of their previous encounter. When he entered the lounge
the senior officers were already seated. He had asked Geordi to invite Lt.
Barclay along for added insight, seeing as Wesley Crusher was no longer on
board. The captain sat down at the head of the table. The tension was
evident to everyone in the room as they all struggled to cope with the
situation. Picard thought the direct approach would be best.
"Suggestions."
Geordi was first to speak, getting the jump start on ideas. "I
could rig up the main deflector dish, boost the power. Wesley and I have
worked on some modifications that we think might help. With Barclay's help
I could get that running in, thirty minutes, under an hour."
"We have already tried that," Riker said.
"Sir, with all due respect," Worf said, "I recommend against using
any strategy that we have employed prior to our last encounter nor any of
Starfleet's tactics, taking into consideration their access to the
captain's knowledge."
Everyone held his or her breath; they had deliberately avoided
mentioning Picard's experience. But it needed to be said. Picard
responded. "Point taken, Lieutenant."
"But Lieutenant, every time we meet them our phasers work, even if
only once before they adapt," Riker pointed out. "I don't see any reason
not to use something that we have already used. However, the main
deflector dish was ineffective."
"Because the Borg knew about it from the captain," Geordi defended.
Picard was silent for a bit before speaking. "All right, Mr. LaForge,
I'd like you and Lieutenant Barclay to set up the main deflector dish." He
turned to the other faces. "Anything else?"
Barclay tried to speak but only a stutter managed out. "Mr. Barclay?"
the captain urged him on.
"I was just, uh, thinking that maybe we could, uh, beam over and bring one
of the Borg back, kind of like we did with you, sir. Then we might be able to
implant some other sort of message."
"Like 'sleep?'" Beverly proposed.
"Yeah, like 'sleep' or 'eat' or whatever."
Picard took a moment to mull the idea over. "That's a risky gamble. I
don't like the idea of sending anyone over to the Borg ship. Nevertheless,
it is still an option. Mr. Data, you and Dr. Crusher set up your lab."
Worf spoke. "We should arm ourselves to the best of our ability and
separate the saucer section," he suggested.
"No," Picard disagreed and shook his head to illustrate. "I do not
want to risk the civilians on board against the Borg once again. Let us
find some other way."
"Is there any place that would be more advantageous for us to
position ourselves for an attack?" Riker asked. "A nebula perhaps."
"No, Commander," Data answered. "The Borg have shown great prowess
in surveillance techniques."
"We cannot attack outright," Picard pointed out. "We must first
attempt to communicate with them."
"But we are at war," the Klingon grumbled.
"There has been no formal declaration of war, Lieutenant," Data
reminded.
Picard crooked his mouth. "Thus lies a problem. And I want a solution.
We only have an hour, people." Data was about to point out that it was
actually 1.043 hours but the captain's expression told him not to. "Then
we're going to have some trouble on our hands. Dismissed."
The officers filed out of the lounge, set off to their appointed tasks.
Riker placed his hand on Picard's shoulder for support before retiring to
the bridge. Troi stopped Picard from following. "Captain, may I have a
word with you?"
Picard turned, a look of dead seriousness about him, covered over by a
droll, tired, jaded appearance. "Counselor, I know what you are going to
say and I appreciate it. But I will be fine. I won't insult you by telling
you that I'm not frightened or apprehensive. I am. You know me better than
that. I am no longer set on the Borg's destruction; I am concerned about
our survival."
Troi knew that Picard was telling the truth-she did not have to be an
empath to know that-she just hoped that it would be enough to keep them
alive.
Chapter Three
Falcon Rising
The Millennium Falcon pulled out of hyperspace in the same system as the
planet Valkek, just as Han Solo promised. "See," he said as the
streamlined stars pulled into single points of light, "I told you I'd get
you here. We'll be on Valkek in a moment and you can be with all your
Rebel friends."
Han looked back at Leia with a crooked smile and was greeted in return
with an astonished wide-eyed look outside the front window. "Look out!"
Leia shouted.
Han swiveled in his seat back to the control console. Chewie growled
uneasily as Solo flitted with the controls. "What?" he asked and looked
out the viewer.
"TIE fighters, coming right towards us!" Luke shouted
unnecessarily.
"Oh dear," Threepio cried. He and Artoo were now in the cockpit as
well.
Han quickly set the Falcon into evasive maneuvers, avoiding the
onslaught of fighters and their blasts by rolling to the left. "Luke, get
back to the gun turrets. You know the drill. You too, Princess. If the
blasters don't work maybe you can kill them with your personality." Leia
gave him a stern look but said nothing. She instead followed Luke out of
the cockpit.
"Is there anything we can do, sir?" Threepio asked Solo, secretly hoping
that there was nothing.
"You can sit there and shut up," Solo snapped.
Threepio was relieved. "Very well," he complied.
Han looked out the screen at the chaotic scene before them. Somehow they
stumbled on an Imperial brigade. No, this was to be the new Rebel base.
The Empire must have found out about it and been waiting for them. Then he
noticed the Imperial Star Destroyer orbiting Valkek which Han had not seen
before. Nor did he notice the entourage of X-wing fighters and the massive
Rebel frigates. No, the Empire was outgunned. All they had was a Star
Destroyer that did not seem to be firing, and the ship's two typical TIE
fighter squadrons. This was not a trap, it was a coincidence.
"Luke, there're X-wings out there. Careful," Han called back.
"I feel them," Luke responded. Laser blasts flew haphazardly as
fighters on both sides erupted into flame. Han managed to avoid the blasts
himself, though a few came close enough to actually nick the ship, as Leia
and Luke picked off the TIE fighters.
Suddenly Chewie growled a warning. "Yes, I see them," Han said,
referring to the approaching group of four TIE fighters. Two maintained
their course while the other two broke off for an attack on the starboard
side of the Falcon. Han got the ship in a corkscrew spin and dived
straight down as the two forces of TIEs met again and followed suit.
Clumped together as they were, the TIEs were easy targets as Luke and Leia
picked off a fighter each. Another one joined the attack from the front.
The Falcon weaved about to avoid the laser blasts but could not shake the
trio.
Chewie growled again. Han flicked his eyes in Chewie's direction,
regarding him skeptically. "I don't know pal, it's kind of risky," he
said, referring to the Wookiee's growl. Chewie returned with a pleading
face and Han gave in. "All right, I'll give it a try." The Wookiee did
his best to smile.
The Falcon did a flamboyant turnabout with an upward spiral to confuse
the TIE pilots. They followed quite well and gained on the Falcon as it
pulled desperately to break free of their pursuit. Not foreseeing
Chewbacca's plan, they all did not have time to pull up as the Falcon
veered sharply to the right and a TIE fighter smashed into the Star
Destroyer. A trio of X-wings paraded by and quickly eliminated the other
two TIEs.
"Thanks, Wedge," Han said over the headset to the X-wing pilot
leading the assault.
"No problem, Captain Solo."
Just then the Star Destroyer, which had thus far remained dormant,
opened fire on a frigate. The barrage was relentless and unexpected. In
seconds the Rebel ship was obliterated.
Geordi LaForge looked nervously at the console panel. He never got too
worried when the ship was in danger; he was always too occupied to be
scared. However, he had faced this situation before and did not come up
with an idea then either. And this time they did not have the benefit of
one of the Borg to link up with and program. Perhaps Barclay's idea would
work, but deep down Geordi did not think it would be feasible. Data had
joined the brain trust after he and Dr. Crusher completed setting up the
lab. Currently only two plans were in operation and Geordi seriously
doubted the effectiveness of either.
LaForge had been staring at the console for the better part of an hour
now, but still no luck. Even with the aided minds of Data and Barclay they
came up empty. Geordi just could not think of anything that would be of
help in battle with the Borg.
He glanced at the chronometer on the console. Time was up. "That's it,
boys," he announced. "Time to see the captain."
"But we don't have anything for him, " Barclay said.
"I know, and I have the time it takes the turbolift to get to the
bridge to think of how to tell him."
"We've got to get those frigates out of here!" Han shouted over the
intercom.
"That's easier said than done, Captain Solo," Admiral Nariamo
replied. He was in command of the Rebel exodus and on board the Corellian
Corvette.
"If we don't, they'll be blasted by the Empire and you can say
good-bye to the Rebel Alliance. This is the bulk of us, Admiral, and I'm
sure there're more Star Destroyers coming. One we can handle, but if Vader
gets word of us, he'll have the entire armada here in minutes."
"In that I must agree. But we'll need some time to evacuate."
"I'll give you as much time as you need, as well as some space.
Wedge and I will keep the Star Destroyer occupied, and I might even take a
few fighters down with us."
"Good luck, Captain Solo."
"Good luck to you, too, Admiral Nariamo." The communique cut off
and Han called back to Luke and Leia, "I need the both of you here for a
minute. We've got to figure out what to do."
Picard did not look happy as Geordi told him they were dry of ideas. The
senior officers were once again gathered around the table in the
conference lounge. He was silent for a bit and the crew hung on his
silence. At last he spoke. "Then I suggest we prepare ourselves for
battle. Mr. Worf," he addressed the Klingon, "are the weapons prepared?"
"Yes, sir."
"What about the deflector dish?"
Geordi spoke up. "We've got it hooked up, sir, along with the
modifications Wes and I came up with. I think it might work this time."
"Very good, Mr. LaForge. Is there anything else?" He glanced over
his crew who said nothing, the haunting feeling that it was perhaps the
last time he would do so, and said, "Good luck, everyone. You're
dismissed."
Reluctantly they pulled themselves from their chairs. They were facing
the upcoming situation with as much trepidation as Picard. Then Barclay
spoke up.
"Wait a minute, Captain. I, uh, I've got an idea."
Picard raised his brow questioningly. Barclay continued. "I was thinking
maybe we could recalibrate the shields to whatever part of the ship the
Borg are firing on."
"But they're much faster at recalibrating than we are," Beverly
said.
"Yeah, but not faster than Data," Geordi said, catching on to what
Barclay was saying. "Reg, that's brilliant. We could hook him up directly
to the computer and could use the ship's sensors. He'd react before we'd
even see the phasers."
"Wouldn't that leave the rest of the ship unprotected?" Riker
asked.
"But that wouldn't matter," Barclay answered. "Commander Data could
reconfigure and establish a strong shield at their new target. At least it
will buy us some time."
"Are you sure?"
Geordi shrugged. He had to be honest, he was not totally sure it would
work. It sounded good, but they would need time to set it up. Time,
unfortunately, that they did not have.
Picard thought a moment and shook his head. "I don't like the risk, Mr.
LaForge. The fate of the rest of the ship is too high a price in case it
doesn't work out. We will maintain that as an option, however."
A beep sounded over the communications network. "Captain Picard?" It was
the nervous voice of Dominguez, Worf's replacement at Tactical. "Sir,
we've sighted the Borg."
"Captain Darok, sir," a grey clad figure reported from a pit console.
"Message from the Barricade. They've run across Rebels at Valkek and are
requesting assistance. It appears that their main weapons system was down.
It's repaired now, but they are out-gunned."
Captain Darok looked over the officer's shoulder at the encoded message.
"Rebel scum. Lord Vader must be informed at once. Hail Grand Moff Thrush."
The Imperial officer paged Thrush but he did not respond. The officer at
Thrush's station reported that he was busy overseeing the completion of
the Executor.
Darok thought a moment, then ordered, "Hold before acknowledging the
Barricade. I'll inform Lord Vader personally." He turned and left the
room.
He made his way to Vader's chambers and stood patiently, albeit
nervously, at the door. "Come in, Captain," Vader said without Darok
announcing his presence. "What can I do for you?" Vader swiveled in his
chair to face the captain. Even though he was seated he appeared to tower
over the Imperial officer.
"The Barricade has spotted the Rebels at Valkek."
Vader responded immediately, as though he were expecting the Rebels to
have been at Valkek and Darok to inform him. "Redirect the four Star
Destroyers I ordered to the Death Star to Valkek, Captain," Vader ordered.
"Have Thrush complete this cruiser and prepare it for battle, then have
him report to me immediately. Captain Darok, when construction is
complete, take my ship to the battle at Valkek. We have a new target to
test this ship's capabilities on. I am counting on you, Captain Darok."
The fiery bloodbath played before the crew of the Millennium Falcon and
they were all helpless to intervene. They needed a plan before they could
act, for without one would be suicide.
"Somehow we've got to occupy that Star Destroyer and give the ships
time to escape," Leia said.
"That's easier said than done," Han said, quoting Admiral Nariamo.
"We're all we've got. I can try to charge the Star Destroyer, maybe lure
some more TIE fighters their way, but we're not equipped to take on that
thing."
"At least there's only one," Luke commented, though it was little
consolation.
"There'll be more, kid. The Empire accidentally stumbled upon us,
they weren't expecting us. No doubt they've got reinforcements coming."
"We've got to do something quick," Leia said.
"Wait!" Han stopped them with a raised finger and shook it as he
thought. "I've got an idea."
Chapter Four
Picard's Charge
Riker drummed his fingers. He was not aware of it-it was caused by the
tense nervousness of the situation-but he continued drumming. Picard shot
his a sideways glance, so quick, so subtle, that only Riker noticed it.
Stop that damned drumming, it said. Riker stopped and glared at the screen
again. Pictured was a cubed figure, appearing on the screen the size of a
softball, but in reality it was massive.
Picard gestured to Worf. "Open hailing frequencies."
"Hailing frequencies open, sir."
"I am Captain Jean-Luc Picard of the Federation Starship U.S.S.
Enterprise.."
The image of the Borg ship was replaced by the abysmal chamber of the
interior of the ship. An electronic voice sounded but there was no Borg
pictured. Picard shuttered as a voice said, "Locutus of Borg."
Picard continued. "We come in peace, we mean no harm."
"Peace is irrelevant," the voice boomed.
Picard knew this was a futile gesture but he needed to do it anyway. For
Starfleet, for himself. He had to try and make peace. He motioned for Worf
to cut communications, than asked, "Data, what is their projected course?"
"They are heading towards Qo'noS, the Klingon home world."
Worf paused. Though he was doing nothing but standing at his station, he
paused nonetheless.
"Mr. Worf, re-establish communications with the Borg."
"Aye, sir."
"We cannot allow you to continue on your present course," Picard
told the Borg.
"You are irrelevant."
"That as well may be, but we will try to stop you." So much for
diplomacy , Picard thought.
"Try is irrelevant. You are irrelevant."
"You said that already. If you insist upon firing, I will be forced
to fire upon you."
"Opposition is futile."
"I am Locutus of Borg!" Picard shouted.
"Locutus is irrelevant."
Picard paused. He had not figured on the Borg rejecting him He was a
once a part of their collective. It would be comparable to refusing to
acknowledge an arm. He was sure that this was his ace in the hole and
intimidation was a last refuge. He could only hope. Picard turned around
to face Worf, motioning again to cut communications, and said, "Mr. Worf,
direct phasers onto the ship. If we're lucky they may just retreat. Fire
when ready."
The crew held their collective breath as streams of light fired upon the
cube. They hit with tremendous force but the ship was relatively
undamaged. It was time to see how much of a threat the Borg considered
the Enterprise. The Borg ship fired and the Enterprise rocked from the
impact but remained stable.
"Report, Lieutenant," Picard ordered, not taking his eyes from the
screen.
"Shields still holding at 78 percent. Reports coming in: multiple
injuries, none serious."
"Good. Mr. Carrington," Picard addressed the ensign at the Conn
station, "when they fire again take evasive action to two mark eight
seven."
"Fire again, Mr. Worf, same location. Intensify phasers." Worf
looked confused, but he complied. The Borg had a shield there now and the
phasers had no effect.
"With all due respect, sir," Riker said, "but do you know what
you're doing?"
"I'm playing on what you would call a hunch, Number One." He smiled
crookedly. It was enough to satisfy Riker.
Picard turned back to the screen. "Concentrate beam, Lieutenant." The
phasers pounded hard against the shield and ultimately broke through. An
explosion ripped away sections of the cube. "Fire photon torpedoes!"
Worf did and the ship shuddered but quickly regained its composure.
Picard's plan did not work. "Now, Mr. Carrington!"
retaliation.
"Fire!" Worf let loose an onslaught of torpedoes that struck the
cube. Then they erupted and jarred the Borg. They opened fire on the
Enterprise.
"Damn. We've become too much of a nuisance. Time to swat the fly."
Picard gripped the seat's handles as the Borg's phasers impacted against
the shields. Geordi, at the engineering station behind Worf, was thrown to
the ground, but the Klingon retained his balance.
"Shields at 54 percent. Casualties minimal," Worf reported.
"Let's just keep at enough distance that they don't start slicing
through my damned hull. Mr. Data, bring her about."
"Aye, Captain," the android responded.
"We're going to be cut to ribbons in a minute," Riker said.
The Enterprise rocked violently and this time even Worf lost his
balance. Calmly Data reported, "Hull breech in decks nineteen through
twenty-one. Shields at 12 percent."
Worf, already back at the Tactical station, inputted, "Evacuating and
sealing off the decks. Heavy casualties."
"Damn. Return fire," Picard ordered. His mind was racing. The
Enterprise lashed out at the ship but still the Borg had not broken its
formation. Luckily they were out of warp. Already the Enterprise had
succeeded in slowing down the Borg. If only they could stop them.
"We can't take much more, Captain," Geordi pleaded.
"I am aware of that Mr. LaForge." Picard sat silently for a bit. At
some length he said, "Bring the ship around the planet. With any luck they
will ignore the surface and come after us. We're a fly in the ointment.
Hopefully they think we're enough of a pest to try and swat."
"We're playing chicken with the Borg, sir," Riker prompted.
"Inquiry: 'chicken?'" Data asked.
"Data," Troi interrupted, "never mind." The android shrugged and
looked back at his console.
Picard ordered Ensign Carrington, "Take us to the dark side of the
planet, Ensign."
"That won't stop them from seeing us, sir," Riker pointed out.
"I know, Number One, but that side of Driedarrel VI is where the
seismic activity is centered. That section has been evacuated. There are
less likely to be civilian casualties on the planet's surface. And when
the Borg follow we will be ready for them.
"Meanwhile, I'd like to have a word with Dr. Direidri." Captain
Picard paged her with his communicator, along with a warning to Doctor
Crusher to prepare for more casualties.
"Jean-Luc," Beverly responded. "I don't know how many more I can
treat. Please be careful."
"I will, Doctor."
"I'll be there in a moment," Dr. Direidri intervened.
"Here goes nothing," Riker commented.
Picard turned to him. "I hope not, Number One. I hope it is definitely
something."
And speaking of 'something,' Riker looked back at Ensign
Carrington at the Conn station. He hoped it was not for the last time.
"That's your idea?" Leia exasperated. "Great, just great."
"Look sweetheart," Han said, his anger rising, "it's gonna work.
Just trust me. I went to the Academy if anyone is interested. I know these
moves."
Leia tossed up her arms.
"No, wait," Luke said. "I think Han's idea has promise."
"Really?" Leia questioned. Chewie growled.
"Thanks, kid," Han said.
Threepio interrupted, nearly in hysterics. "But Master Luke, Artoo says
the odds of successfully pulling off a hit-and-fade attack on an Imperial
Star Destroyer with only one man fighters is three million, seven hundred
eighty-six thousand, four hundred and twenty to one!"
Han spun around with his finger firm, ready to attack the droid if he
said anything more. He turned back, holding his unreleased anger. "This is
gonna work," he said softly to himself. Chewie growled again. "It's gonna
work," Han reiterated to the Wookiee. "Luke, keep an eye on that Star
Destroyer while I radio on to Wedge."
"Better use a coded transmission," Leia advised.
"I will. I'll use an old Corellian code. Wedge'll know that." Han
informed Wedge and the other fighters of his plan while Luke kept an eye
on the cruiser. Several TIE fighters were pummeling the frigates but the
X-wing and Y-wing fighters were fighting back. Luke was itching to be in a
fighter himself.
"Master Luke," Threepio interrupted again. "I must advise not to
take this action."
"It's all right," Luke assured. "Han knows what he's doing. He's
good at this."
Solo could hear what Luke was saying behind him and smiled. At least
someone believed in him. He risked a glance at Leia who was starring out
the port with horror. "It's all right, Princess. I'll get you through
this."
He was half expecting a rude rebuttal. Instead Leia just nodded.
"All right," Han announced, "we're gonna do it. Luke, I want you
and Leia back at the cannons. Blast anything that's not ours. I want
Chewie here with me. Shortround," he addressed Artoo, "why don't you plug
into the ship and do any repairs while in battle."
"And what should I do, sir?" Threepio asked.
"I want Goldenrod here to tell me what's going on outside. Keep it
brief; I don't got time to weed through your jabbering. All right, places
everyone. We've only got one shot at this. With any luck, those frigates
will get safely out of here."
"And what about us?" Leia had to ask.
"Well," Han said, turning to the screen with a sigh, "with any
luck, we'll be gone before reinforcements arrive."
Han spoke into the headset. "Wedge, you ready?"
"Red Two, affirmative."
"Gold Three, affirmative."
"Hit it!" Han shouted.
"Sir, the Rebels are breaking formation," the helm officer reported.
"What?" Admiral Garrison exclaimed. He walked over to the screen.
"They were doing a standard Calamari defense until now. What are they
doing? Analyze their attack. I want to know what they're doing." He turned
to the tactical station. "Are the weapons still on line?"
"Yes, sir."
"Good, fire on those fighters when they get in range. And launch
the rest of L fleet. We've got to hold them off until Vader gets here."
Another group of TIE fighters roared out of the hangar into attack
formation.
"To be blunt, Doctor, what causes the seismic activity?" Captain Picard
asked of Dr. Direidri. They were seated in Picard's ready room, Picard at
his desk, the doctor seated opposite.
"Well, that's what we're here to find out, Captain."
Picard took a breath. That was not what he wanted to hear. "No. What I
mean is what do you think causes the tremors?"
"I told you I don't kn-"
"Once again, Doctor, I realize that you do not know exactly why but
I would like you to make your best guess." It was like talking to Data, he
thought.
"Well, from the data I acquired I would guess an influx of energy
from some outside source. Seeing as the activity has only occurred
recently and not in the past, I'd say it was man-made energy output on the
planet or under the surface."
"And what exactly results from these eruptions?" Picard asked.
She was slow to respond. "Well, the earth is overturned in what is
generally termed an earthquake-"
"I know what an earthquake is, Doctor," he said, his voice teeming
with frustration. She could be so infuriating. "Is there anything
abnormal?"
"The gravity of the planet becomes unstable, playing havoc with the
orbit."
"And anything nearby?" Picard ventured.
"Exactly," Dr. Direidri said. "That's what preliminary tests have
shown. I've asked Data to set up some further studies-"
"Yes, Doctor, that is quite enough," Picard interrupted.
"Captain, that is the third time you've cut me off during this
conversatio-"
"Yes, yes. And I apologize. Right now we have some pressing matters
to attend. Perhaps when they are overx"
"We could have a cup of tea?" Dr. Direidri inquired.
"Yes, quite all right. A cup of tea, Dr. Direidri."
"Lilian. You can call me Lilian." She smiled. "And can I call you-"
"Later, yes." Picard did his best to get rid of her without
actually shoving her out the door. He considered calling Worf in to do it
for him when she made it out on her own.
"Good-bye," she smiled flirtatiously.
Picard waved and smiled, always the diplomat. He sighed as the door slid
shut before him. Then it occurred to him: he had just made a date with
her. He banged his head lightly on the door. He was suddenly looking
forward to the Borg.
Chapter Five
Showdown
The Millennium Falcon soared towards the Imperial Star Destroyer Barricade
with Wedge and his squadron of fighters close behind. They were met by TIE
fighters blasting away. Lasers spit out from the Rebels and the Imperial
squadron was swiftly reduced to a handful.
"Gold Leader," Wedge shouted over the intercom, "break formation
and go after those TIEs. We'll cover you."
"Affirmative, Red Two." Three Y-wing fighters broke off and
occupied the TIEs. The four Imperial ships circled the Rebel fighters and
managed to get one of the Y-wings before Gold Leader drove the TIEs off.
As promised the X-wing followed suit, blasting two of the TIEs before Gold
Two took the third.
Han looked out the port window. They were losing some good men but so
far his plan was working. "Here goes nothing," Han muttered as he veered
closer to the Star Destroyer. He was hoping that they did not activate the
tractor beam and his gamble proved to be correct. They were well within
range of the ships beam. "All right Wedge, follow me in tight. We don't
have a margin for error. Target on the power orb in the aft section."
"But Falcon, what about their shields?"
"When Chewie and I lured the TIEs in earlier the ships crashed into
the ship, not its shields. It seems that the ship's a bit battle weary.
This run is gonna tell us for sure. Wish us luck, Wedge," Han finished.
"May the Force be with us," Luke interceded from the gunport
turret, having overheard the conversation.
Han grimaced. He was not too sure of his plan himself, though he
displayed such confidence in it before. Maybe Luke had picked up on his
feeling and that was why he backed him up. Or maybe Luke really believed
in his plan. Even though Han still was not sold on all the Force
nonsense, he welcomed any help.
The Falcon led the pack as they approached the Star Destroyer. They were
too close for the cruiser to use its weapons on them. That was a key point
in Han's plan. As long as they could fend off the fighters, the Star
Destroyer did not pose much of a threat. Han put the ship in a dive as
Luke and Leia pummeled the Barricade's hull with lasers and the fighters
concentrated fire on the power orb. It sustained the damage quite well,
but it proved irrefutably that Han's hunch had been correct: the Star
Destroyer had no shields. They could actually destroy the ship. All they
needed was time.
The second squadron of TIEs erupted from the hangar bay and assaulted
the Rebels. Caught by surprise, several TIE fighters erupted into flame.
"That got their attention." Han muttered.
"We've gotten more than we bargained for, Solo," Wedge reported. "Some of
the other fighters have broken off their attack on the frigates."
"That's exactly what I had planned. Now, let's lose these guys. The
Imperial brass must've realized that we actually pose a threat to their
precious ship."
"Uh, Falcon," Wedge said nervously.
"Sir, Imperial Star Destroyers!" Threepio called with panic.
Han spun to see what he meant. Sure enough, five Star Destroyers were
approaching off the port side of the ship, enclosing the Falcon and the
Rebel fighters.
"Han!" Leia shouted over the intercom. "That Star Destroyer, it's huge."
Again Han looked at what was referred to him. The Star Destroyer that
led the pack was massive, five times the size of the standard star
cruisers the Empire had. "I have a bad feeling about this. Wedge, let's
get out of here! Those frigates have got enough room to leave. We better
follow before we have to greet those uninvited guests."
An amalgam of TIE fighters roared towards the Falcon, picking off the
occasional Rebel fighter, and in return were destroyed.
"Well, what do you propose?" Wedge asked.
"I've got an idea," Han answered. Chewie groaned.
"Not more of your wonderful advice," Leia complained. "We're lucky
you haven't gotten us all killed."
"No Leia, he may be on to something," Luke soothed. "What's your
idea, Han?"
"You're not going to like this," he warned.
"What is it?"
Han paused a moment before answering. "Wedge, you and the Y-wings pull
out of here as fast as you can and catch up with the frigates. We'll
occupy the Star Destroyers."
"And how do you propose to do that?" Leia asked, dreading the
answer.
"We're gonna try the hit-and-fade again." He cringed, expecting a
negative response.
He was right. "But sir!" Threepio shouted. "The odds of successfully
operating a solo hit-and fade attack on six Imperial Star Destroyers is
five million-"
"Shut up, Goldenrod. Solo is my last name."
"Han, I don't like it," Luke responded.
"Neither do I," Leia said.
"It sounds risky, Falcon," Wedge offered.
"Well, we're doing it. Just get out of here, Red Two. I'll handle
the Star Destroyers."
Picard gazed absently at the dark side of the planet Driedarrel VI. There
were no new developments. Eventually he turned to Data and asked, "Mr.
Data, have you recalibrated the ventral phaser array to the frequency Dr.
Direidri gave you?"
"Yes, Captain."
Picard circled around the bridge past the engineering terminal to the
diagnostic screens at the rear of the bridge. On one of the screens was
pictured the geographic schematics of the planet. He pointed to a mountain
range. "According to reports, that is where most of the seismic activity
is centralized. Data, give us a wide orbit over that point. And Mr. Worf,
lock on ventral phaser array on that point as well."
Worf and Data did as ordered before Worf separately addressed the
captain. "Sir?"
Picard turned. "Yes, Lieutenant."
It took a moment for Worf to answer, as if it were something that had
weighed heavily on his mind. "Request permission to alert the Klingon's of
the Borg presence and their proposed course."
Picard looked his lieutenant up and down. Finally he nodded. "Make it
so."
The X-wing and Y-wing fighters broke formation and shot forward toward the
rapidly closing escape route that the Rebel frigates had poured through.
The five newcomer Star Destroyers, including the massive Super Star
Destroyer, were constricting a tight circle around the trapped Falcon. TIE
fighters followed closely.
"Red Two, I've got two on my tail!" a cry came over the intercom.
Wedge recognized the voice as Collins, Gold Seven.
"I'll swing around, Gold Seven," Red Four responded.
"Careful," Wedge warned. "Those fighters are closing in."
"I know, Red Two."
The X-wing pulled out and circled back so that he was behind Gold Seven's
pursuers. He blasted one but the other squirmed away.
"Got one," Red Four called. "The other broke off."
"He's still on my tail," Gold Seven called. "I can't shake him."
"I've got him in my sights," Red Four said, then fired. The TIE
fighter erupted in flames. "I got him!" he exclaimed.
Collins breathed out. "Thanks, Red Four," he said, relieved.
"No problem." Suddenly laser fire blasted at his rear engine. "I've
been hit!" he shouted, his exclamation changed quickly from exhilaration
to terror. "I need some help."
"I'm coming," Gold Seven responded. He circled his Y-wing around.
The fire spread towards the fighter's cabin. "It's too late, I'm-" Red
Four's X-wing exploded.
Laser fire lashed out viciously and the offending TIE blasted apart.
Gold Seven swung around through the debris of the fighter he just blasted.
"We've lost Jenkins," Collins reported somberly.
Wedge winced. It was harder to take death when they were reported by
name. Somehow when they were reported by number designation Wedge could
file their deaths away until he returned to base and then could mourn for
his friends. Jenkins was his friend, and he could feel emotion welling up
inside him. But he could not think about that at the moment. He had to get
out of there. With Red Leader killed in the initial attack, he was in
charge. He would be damned if he lost the entire squadron. He lashed out
against the approaching TIE fighters.
The lasers punched out of the Millennium Falcon's cannons and lashed out
against the Star Destroyer Barricade. The ship sustained heavy damage, but
still there was no pronounceable effect. "Didn't we just leave this
party?" Solo commented.
They were followed by three TIE fighters that circled haphazardly
behind. The Falcon spun and dived straight down. Two TIEs followed but
the third was blasted by Leia seated at the ventral quadlasers.
"Good shot, sweetheart," Han called back.
Leia took the compliment in stride, continuing her attack on the
Imperial oppressors. "I just hope you're right about this," she said.
"So do I," Han muttered to himself.
Chewie overheard and growled.
Han looked at him. "It'll work, I'm just kidding. It'll work."
The Falcon came up on the ventral side of the Star Destroyer, taking out
the remaining two fighters before trying for another run.
"Han, circle up and flash the bridge," Luke called out.
"Any particular reason, kid?"
"Just wait. And do it," he added.
Obediently Han complied. He circled the ship around to the front of the
star cruiser and veered closer. Luke let loose fire on the bridge and even
in the flash he could see Imperial officers diving to the ground to avoid
the laser fire. It was just the distraction they needed. Luke could feel
the frustration and anger on the part of the Imperials which would cause
them to make errors. All the Rebels needed was for the X-wings and Y-wings
to escape before the other Star Destroyers got within range to blast the
Falcon to bits.
"It's up to you, Han," Luke called.
The Barricade started to move. It swiveled around to face the Millennium
Falcon and force nits flight out enough to blast it. While the Barricade
was rotating to find the Millennium Falcon, the Star Destroyer lashed out
against the retreating Rebel fighters and several of them erupted.
"Luke, what did we just do?" Han asked.
Luke's response was stammered. "I-I'm not sure."
"We may have brought the entire fleet down on us," Leia put in.
"When those fighters escape, we're all that's left."
"Well hold on, Princess," Han said. "We're not through yet."
He pulled the ship around to the side of the Barricade and the Falcon
fired on the power orb on the Star Destroyer. This time it ruptured. The
Falcon passed by overhead as the orb exploded. The Barricade's power
supply was gone. They were utterly defenseless.
"Let's blow this thing and go home," Han said and circled around to
the bridge.
Chapter Six
Exeunt
The cube-shaped Borg ship peered around the edge of the planet, like the sun
rising. There was a tension on the Enterprise bridge that could be cut
through a man's soul like a knife. In their own ways, the crew members
prepared for battle and however it might turn out.
"Mr. Worf, fire dorsal phaser array on the incoming Borg ship," Picard
ordered.
"Aye, sir." Crimson beams lashed out and struck the enemy ship but there was
not any noticeable damage. That was fine, however; damage was not what Picard
intended. It was merely a distraction.
Picard waited patiently. The Borg fired back and the Enterprise rocked with
the impact.
"Shields at 42 percent," Worf reported.
"Mr. Data, are the Borg in position?"
"Negative, sir. Eight point four seconds."
The Borg fired again. "Shields at 31 percent, Captain," came the report.
They waited. Not until the Borg were in position.
Phasers struck the Enterprise shields once again. A report came in from
Geordi in Engineering. "Captain, the shields can't take much more of this. We
better get out of here if we want to live."
"Just a second, Mr. LaForge," Picard replied. In fact, that was all they
had: a second.
"The Borg are in position, Captain," Data reported.
"Worf, fire ventral phaser array!"
Another crimson beam shot out but, instead of at the Borg ship, this beam
was aimed at the planet's surface. The phaser disrupted the delicate
stability of the planet and huge seismic eruptions thrust formations of earth
up, lava flows poured over the land, and it all wrecked havoc with the
planet's gravity field.
Which was exactly what Picard wanted.
The Borg ship shot backward, Driedarrel VI's distorted gravity field yanking
the Borg into a different orbit. Picard knew the Borg would counteract but
the few seconds it would take them to do so was exactly what the Enterprise
needed. Data had compensated for the gravitational shift and retained the
current distance from the planet. For now.
"We made it!" Wedge shouted as the Rebel fighters burst through the fiery
remains of what was a moment ago an Imperial TIE fighter. Their huge group
was reduced slightly and the those that remained had burned out engines and
laser burns blistering their ships. But they were alive and they had escaped.
"Not all of us," Collins reminded.
Wedge's heart sank. Yes, they had lost a lot of good men. He peered back at
the fire-fight they left behind. Han Solo was a great pilot. Princess Leia
was vital to the success of the Rebel Alliance. And Luke Skywalker was a good
friend and the Old Republic's only hope of regaining power.
"Let's hope we don't lose anymore, Gold Seven."
"Yeehah!" Han shouted as he charged the bridge of the Barricade. This time he
was not merely flashing by them; he was in a full-blown suicide attack.
Lasers lashed out at the bridge while TIE fighters tried to destroy the
Falcon. The ship shook with the laser impacts but there was nothing Han could
do about it. He spun the Falcon to the left, avoiding more lasers. Leia's
cannon blasted a fighter and two more followed behind. Han accelerated the
freighter with several TIE fighters in tow.
"This Star Destroyer's useless but those others are converging fast," Luke
said.
"Yeah, I know, kid," Han retorted. "If you've got any ideas, don't keep them
to yourself."
The Millennium Falcon flew too close to one of the other Star Destroyers and
lasers flashed across the Falcon's nose. "Aaigh!" Threepio shouted and tried
to cover his eye ports.
There was beeping from the rear of the ship. Threepio responded without
bothering to translate. "Artoo, they don't care that a temporal space rift
has appeared just outside of the Imperial entrapment. We're about to be
blasted out of the stars! Try and be useful, you rusting bucket of loose
wires!"
Artoo whistled a sigh.
"Han!" Leia shouted. "There, past the lame Star Destroyer!"
"I see it," Han responded.
"It's a way out. When they veered to attack they opened up their circle."
"Just one more pass and we're out of here." Han directed the Millennium
Falcon straight toward the Barricade. TIE fighters followed closely behind.
"Chewie, we've got to lose them," Han said.
The Wookiee spun the ship in a barrel roll and dived straight down. One of
the TIEs managed to follow the maneuver. The Falcon dipped back around and
fired its cannons directly upward, through the remaining TIE fighters who did
not manage through the difficult flight pattern. The TIEs' own lasers blasted
each other and Luke and Leia quickly finished off the others.
"Nice going, Chewie," Han said.
"Wonderful, Chewbacca!" Threepio exclaimed, no longer covering his eyes.
"Wonderful!"
"Let's get out of here!" Han shouted as they veered around and passed by the
wounded Star Destroyer. "Punch it, Chewie!" The Millennium Falcon blasted off
at lightspeed and away from the battle.
"Mr. Worf, concentrate full phaser array on a specific point of the Borg
ship," Picard ordered. "Fire!" Phasers lashed out in a concentrated spot.
"Now fire photon torpedoes, same spot!" Crimson starlets lashed out and
struck the Borg. Small explosions ripped away sections of the Borg ship. The
Borg tried to rebuild the sections but the phasers did not let up.
"Data, fire anti-matter spread, vary degrees. Worf, continue firing." Picard
was determined and ruthless. His fists were clenched and Riker had rarely
seen his captain so worked up about anything before.
The Borg were sustaining massive damage, but had regained their position,
having compensated for the gravitational shift, and were repairing the damage
to their ship at a progressive rate.
Picard gazed out the viewscreen. The Borg lashed back out and the ship
rocked. "Shields at 15 percent, Captain!" Worf reported.
It was time. "Mr. Carrington," Picard barked. "Activate the Picard
Maneuver!"
Riker nearly gasped. Deanna did. They all knew the famed Picard maneuver, it
was taught in the academy and was required reading. It was just that no one
had ever thought of using it against the Borg.
Obeying the order, Ensign Carrington operated the Picard Maneuver. The
Enterprise drove in at maximum warp towards the Borg ship and stopped just
short of collision. From a visual standpoint it appeared that the Enterprise
was at two points at once. It was unlikely that the Borg would be fooled by
the visual paradox, but Picard was banking on them not being able to react in
time. "Fire main deflector dish!" he shouted. "Fire everything we've got!"
A huge azure beam shot out of the main deflector dish, slicing through the
Borg ship. Data and Worf continued the phaser, photon torpedo, and
anti-matter onslaught. The Borg were caught off-guard. Huge sections of the
ship erupted in flame. Since all the shots were centralized the weapons broke
through the tough Borg ship and blasted back out the back. The Enterprise
sliced completely through the Borg ship.
Riker gasped.
"Full reverse, Mr. Carrington!" Picard shouted.
"Sir," Data reported. "Sensors indicate some sort of temporal rift outside
the aft of the ship."
"What was that, Mr. Data?" Riker asked.
It was too late. They had passed through the rift and Driedarrel VI, as well
as the Borg ship, disappeared.
Chapter Seven
Entr'Acte
Admiral Garrison gazed out the forward view port as the Millennium Falcon
sped away. His heart sank. The entire Rebel Alliance was in his grasp and he
let them slip through his fingers. Granted his ship was not capable of nearly
any defense or offense, but it would look poorly on him nonetheless. And what
would the Emperor say? Garrison would be fortunate to survive with his life,
much less his command.
"Admiral Garrison," the communications officer reported. "Transmission from
Lord Vader. He wants to talk with you immediately."
Garrison turned, his face pale white. "I'll take it in my quarters."
"Lord Vader insists you take it here, sir."
He's determined to make this unbearable, Garrison thought. It would be
difficult to maintain his composure before the other officers, but no matter
what happened, he had to keep his dignity. He was an Imperial officer. "Very
well," he said, trying to muster up as much power behind his failing voice as
possible. "Put him on screen."
A hazy image of the dark lord Darth Vader appeared on the screen. "Lord
Vader," Garrison greeted.
"Admiral Garrison," Vader responded. Silence followed that was nearly
unbearable to Garrison. Only the harsh, hollow breathing of Vader echoing
through the room could be heard. Everyone behind the admiral was stiff and
unyielding. Garrison was alone in this.
"The Millennium Falcon has escaped, my lord," the admiral reported.
"As I see. " There was more silence and breathing. Vader seemed to be
peering through Garrison's soul. Finally Vader spoke again. "Prepare to have
the Barricade towed. I shall maneuver the Executor around and activate the
tractor beam. You have failed me for the last time, Admiral."
Sweat dripped down Garrison's forehead. "Yes, my lord," he stammered.
"It will not happen again."
That was it? Garrison thought. He's letting me go? No, it cannot be that
simple.
"And when that is completed," Vader added, "which I trust will go without
any problems, I want you to report to me on the Executor."
"Yes, my lord." Garrison tapped his heels and bowed as the image of Darth
Vader disappeared. Slowly the tenseness on the bridge dissolved. The
tenseness in Garrison's stomach, however, did not.
"Full stop," Picard ordered.
The Enterprise sat motionless, its running lights flashing around the
outside of the hull. There were several battle-torn sections of the ship
blackened by phaser fire. Considering all that the ship had just been
through, they were in remarkable shape. No one survived a Borg attack with as
little damage as they sustained.
It was a mixed blessing, however, because everything around them had
disappeared. At least from their view. However, Picard quickly realized that
they were the ones who had disappeared. "Mr. Data, do you know where we are?"
Data checked his Ops console. He shook his head. "Negative, Captain. I am
afraid that none of these stars are on our charts. As near as I can figure we
are in unexplored space."
Unexplored! That meant great possibilities, new races, new frontiers. This
was a grand opportunity, but Picard could not revel in the idea long.
"All right, first order of business. Mr. Worf, what are the damages?"
Worf reported from the Tactical console. "Shields at twelve percent. Phasers
at 56 percent power. Casualties rate at twenty, five dead, sir."
Picard rubbed his eyes with his hand and rested it on his bridge. Twenty
people injured, five dead. Actually the situation was not as bad as he had
expected. He tapped his communicator. "Mr. LaForge, when can I expect the
shields and phaser banks to be back to optimum levels."
"I wouldn't expect that until we get back to a starbase to fit repairs, but
I can see what I can do," the engineer replied.
"I need more than that if we're going to face the Borg again, Mr. LaForge."
"Captain, I need time. I'm not some kind of miracle worker you know. I'd say
about thirty hours of work to get shields back to seventy percent."
"Make it so. Picard out."
"Do we know how we got here?" Riker asked Picard.
"I don't. Data?"
"Sensors indicate that we passed through a temporal space rift."
"There is such a thing?" Riker asked.
"According to what the sensors tell us. That is the best estimate it can do.
With studies I can give you more information."
"All right Data, do that," Picard said. "But do we know if we can get out of
here? Is the hole still open?"
"Already the rift is closing past the specifications of the Enterprise,
Captain. We cannot pass through now, and I do not know if we can open the
temporal space rift again."
Picard looked disheveled and flustered. He turned to Riker and said in
desperation, "Where are we, Number One?"
"Captain," Data interrupted, "sensors are picking up six large ships in the
distance."
"On screen." The alien stars on the viewer disappeared to be replaced by
small images of six white wedge-shaped shaped cruisers forming somewhat of a
circle. "Do you have any identification?"
After a moment Data responded, "Negative. And Captain," Data added, "there
appears to be a seventh ship."
"Well, you can relax now, Princess," Han called back. Luke and Leia were
making their way back to the cockpit. Outside the window light streaked past
and Solo was leaned back in his chair.
"I must admit, Han, you pulled us through," Leia said.
"What? You didn't think I could do it?" he said, melodramatically portraying
his pain at the blow to his ego.
Chewie growled what was clearly a negative.
"Hey!" Han retorted. "None of that."
"You did good, Han," Leia said.
"Now all we have to do is circle around and find the Alliance," Luke added.
"Yeah, we will, kid," Han replied. "But not till we're a safe distance from
the Empire. They can still track us, but I doubt they will. They're more
interested in the rest of the Alliance. It's possible that they think that
was an attack on our part, but I'm sure they realize that we were caught by
surprise as well. They'll realize that even we wouldn't be desperate enough
to bring our entire fleet against one ship."
Outside, the starlines suddenly began dissipating and a red light flashed on
Solo's console.
"What's that flashing?" Luke asked.
Han had a dreaded loom on his face. "We're coming out of hyperdrive. The
navicomputer's detected something out here."
The streamlines ceased and the Falcon was thrust back into normal space.
There before them was the discolored space and a huge misshapen hole that
quickly closed up before their eyes. But it was the massive ship before them
that caught they eye. It was oddly shaped for a cruiser; it had a huge saucer
in front, a neck tapered down the back with a bulbous base and what appeared
to be twin engines. And it was directly in the Millennium Falcon's path.
"Look out!" Leia cried.
On the viewscreen where a small circular ship had just appeared out of warp,
that same ship veered straight upward, narrowly missing the Enterprise's
shields.
"What the hell is that?" Picard asked.
"Unknown, Captain," Data admitted.
"Now we've got UFOs flying around here."
"UFOs, sir?" Data inquired.
"Unidentified Flying Object, Mr. Data."
"Ah," he said. He turned back to his console. "It appears they have their
shields up."
"Really?" Picard said with interest. "How many are in there?"
"Sensors indicate four life forms," Data answered.
Without taking his attention from the viewscreen, Picard said to the Klingon
at Tactical, "Mr. Worf, see if you can hail them."
"What is that?" Luke asked in exclamation.
"I don't know, Han admitted. It was luck that Chewbacca had reacted so
swiftly or they would have smashed into the ship's shields.
"Do you think it's one of the Empire's new weapons?" Leia asked nervously.
They all looked in awe at the odd ship before them.
"I don't know," Solo responded. "I've seen a lot of the Empire's toys and
this things looks different than their usual style. It's not some much
fearful as it isx" he searched for the word, "alien."
"Luke, do you sense anything?" Leia asked.
Luke was concentrating, his eyes closed, letting the Force flow through him,
just like Obi-Wan had taught him. But he was not very skilled in the ways of
the Force. Once again, for at least the hundredth time since Ben died, he
wished he were here. "I sensexthousands of minds."
"On a ship that size, I don't doubt it," Han said.
"Can you read if they're human?" Leia asked.
"Well, of a sort." Luke shook his head, free from his Force-enduced trance.
"I can't really tell."
There was a beep from Artoo who was now in the cockpit as well. "What
temporal space rift?" Threepio asked. "How would you know that was where the
ship came from?" Artoo bleeped. "The ship told you so? What nonsense."
"Wait, Threepio!" Luke stopped him. "What ship? What ship did Artoo get the
information from?"
"Artoo says that the Millennium Falcon's central computer told him that
there was a temporal space rift outside the battle area."
"That must have been that discolored rip we spotted when we dropped out of
hyperspace," Han said.
Artoo bleeped again. "I told you so? I told you so? What is that supposed to
mean, you rusted garbage tin with delusions of grandeur." Threepio awkwardly
whacked Artoo-Detoo and Artoo's head spun around.
"What do you propose we do?" Han asked. "Leia, you're the diplomat; what
would you do?"
"Maybe we should try to talk with them," she answered.
"Hailing frequencies open, sir," Worf reported at Picard's request. The
Klingon was always apprehensive about meeting other races, surely for the
peril it placed the Enterprise and her crew in. But this time he was
especially agitated. He did not like running from a fight, and it seemed to
him that was exactly what they did.
"Unidentified vessel, this is Captain Jean-Luc Picard of the Federation
Starship U.S.S. Enterprise NCC-1701. On behalf of the United Federation of
Planets, I wish you good will. We come in peace." Picard waited for a reply
and took a stance in front of the screen expecting the image of the small
ship's captain. After a moment no image had appeared. "Mr. Worf, what's
wrong?"
Worf looked up from his station. "They are responding on audio only, sir."
"Perhaps their ship is damaged," Riker offered an explanation.
"Perhaps, Number One," Picard agreed. He announced to the alien ship once
again, "This is Captain Jean-Luc Picard of the-"
His greeting was cut short. "Hello, Captain," came the grainy reply.
Picard shifted and sat down, pulling on his tunic as he did so. "To whom am
I speaking?"
"This is Captain Han Solo and this is my ship, the Millennium Falcon. Just
what do you think you're doing here, Captain?"
Picard was clearly taken aback by Solo's brazen attitude. "Well, Captain
Solo, it appears we've come through some sort of a rift."
"Yes, we know. Our droid picked that up a while ago."
"And you are our welcoming committee," Picard said.
"Better us than the Empire," Han retorted.
"The Empire?" Picard questioned. Worf's attention perked up.
"Those ships a ways behind us," Solo answered.
"The six cruisers we spotted on our sensors," Data explained unnecessarily.
Picard turned to Worf and motioned to cut communications, then looked to
Deanna. "Counselor, what do you sense from them?"
It took a moment before Troi responded. "Sir, at first I felt fear and
hostility, then general acceptance. Still, they seem a bit weary of our
presence."
"Understandable."
"And there's something else, something I can't quite put my finger on."
"Are they friendly?" Riker asked.
"More importantly, are they sincere?" Picard asked as well.
Troi nodded. "I would say so."
That was reason enough for Picard. He motioned to Worf to open channels once
again. "Captain Solo, it seems that you have seen some action. You are
invited on board while my engineering crew sees what they can do with
repairing your ship."
There was a pause on the other end, perhaps he was discussing the matter
with his crew. After some length, Solo said, "All right Captain, we'll come
aboard."
"Excellent. I'm afraid our shuttle bays will not hold a ship of your size so
we'll have to pull you in with our tractor beam and just beam you aboard."
"Beam?" Solo said nervously.
Picard smiled. "It will be fine, Captain Solo. Just sit tight. You mentioned
a droid, as in an android?"
"That's right, Captain," Solo responded.
"How many are there in your party, then?"
"Six. Oh, and Captain, I'd recommend getting away from here for a while. The
Empire is bound to detect you and I'm not so sure that'd be a good idea."
"Fine. Then I'll see you in Transporter Room Four." Communication was cut
off. Picard tapped his communicator. "Bridge to Chief O'Brien, get a lock on
the six crew members of the Falcon once we've got it in our tractor beam."
"Aye, Captain," O'Brien replied.
"Sir, if I may," Riker interceded, "why exactly are we beaming them aboard?"
"While we try to find a way home we may need to stay here for a while. It is
best to get acquainted with the natives, so to speak."
"I think that is an excellent idea, Captain," Troi mentioned.
"And I must admit, Number One, this Empire has got me intrigued."
"Me as well," Worf put in from above them.
"Mr. Worf," Picard ordered, "activate tractor beam."
Worf tapped on the console. "Activated, sir."
"Good. Mr. Carrington, warp factor two."
"Destination, sir?" she asked.
"At your discretion, Mr. Carrington."
"Aye, sir."
"Let's get down to the transporter room, Number One," Picard said, turning
to Riker. "Mr. Worf, I want security present as well, just in case, and
Counselor Troi and Data, if you will." He turned back to Ensign Carrington at
the Conn station. "Engage."
A large ripple in space contorted and tore violently apart. The space was
violet, a lavender hue overtaking the wrinkle in the time-space continuum.
Emerging from this ripple was a large cube. Slowly pulling through as if
through a veil, the full structure pulled through, and just as quickly as the
space anomaly appeared, it shrunk to nothing once again, leaving the cubed
ship alone.
Chapter Eight
Entering the Game
General Firell was nervous. He sat in his office staring outside the window
at the troops performing a field exercise. He swallowed a mouthful of
Narcadian brandy and poured another glassful from the bottle.
They had lost the shipment of parts and supplies needed to complete the
construction of Lord Vader's flagship, the Super Star Destroyer Executor. He
had tried to inform Vader of the problems hours ago but he didn't respond.
And the hours since have been hell for Firell.
He wasn't used to this type of situation. Firell was a general, confident in
his control of ground troops, not supply transfer. He was not a goods and
labor distributor, dammit, but he had been placed in charge of this operation
and it had gone sour. And he would be the one to pay the price, even though
he didn't do anything.
Cassax was a military installation where Firell trained soldiers for battle
when he was not leading one. He had been ill lately, and because of his many
triumphs against the Rebellion, the Emperor decided to only take him out
until he recuperated. He was promised a command in another week, And until
then he was to continue training stormtroopers. The Empire was gearing up for
a retaliation he was anxious for it, but in the meantime was stuck on Cassax.
And doing what? Supervising construction materials.
It really was not his fault. He was supposed to receive the materials from
Commander Leaks in a transport ship. They were coming to Cassax only because
it is a drop-of point on the way to Tradic where the Executor awaited
construction. But Leaks never arrived. All attempts at reaching him via
communication have failed. Firell sent ships out to find traces of Leaks'
transport, but he didn't know what else to do. He was a general, not a
captain in the Imperial navy.
But from what he knew of Vader, the Dark Lord would blame him for the
blunder, even for so little a reason that there is no one else around to
blame. But that hardly seemed fair. After all, it wasn't his fault Leaks got
ambushed by the Rebels. It wasn't his fault that Vader's flagship wouldn't
have hyperdrive. It wasn't his fault for anything. but he was the one who
would be blamed.
Firell took another drink.
And the ground shook. Firell glanced at his glass, impressed with the strong
effect of the alcohol, when an Imperial officer barged in.
"General Firell."
"Don't you knock?' Firell reprimanded. "Don't you show respect for your
commanding officer?" His voice rose as he rose from his chair in defiance. He
had to admit that he might have been a little drunk.
"But sir, we're being attacked," the officer reported.
Firell shook away the glaze in his eyes and his mind snapped to attention.
"What?" His voice was still a little groggy. "Who would be stupid enough to
attack an Imperial training installation? Get the men ready. We'll give those
bastards something to think about."
The officer didn't move. Firell noticed his insubordination and glared at
him. But it wasn't that the officer was being insubordinate, it was that he
was quivering where he stood. fear was shaking in his eyes.
"What is it?" Firell asked.
"Sirx" the officer said and took a breath, "xlook."
"Hmm?" Firell followed his officer's gaze out his front window. What he saw
he was not even the slightest prepared for. A massive cube a third the size
of the planet hovered over the base. The cube must be a ship or shield,
Firell decided. It blocked out the sun and blanketed the camp as the sky. The
encampment would have been pitch black but with the fires it was as bright as
day. He could see his men, some in stormtrooper garb, others in civilian
clothes, some in between. Officers and enlisted men alike were battling their
way about the camp, firing blasters at unseen assailants. There was death and
destruction rampant throughout the camp. Then Firell noticed something
curious. The buildings and earth were moving. The living quarters and mess
hall were being lifted into the air. Dozens of men fell to their deaths out
of the buildings into fires and onto the unforgiving earth. He was a military
genius, but he didn't know what to do. He had one of the largest concentrated
armies in the Empire, but he didn't know how to respond. He didn't know they
were coming. Hell, he didn't even know who they were. All he could do was sit
and stare as his life, his career, his men, were decimated right before his
very eyes. He loosened his grip on his glass and it sailed to the ground. The
glass erupted upon impact, and the Narcadian brandy splashed all over the
tremulous ground.
"So what do we do?" Luke asked. The Millennium Falcon had just been caught in
their host's tractor beam and the two ships had taken off.
"We sit back and relax, I guess," Han surmised and leaned back comfortably
in his chair. He gazed out the window at the streams of stars. His brow
creased.
"Chewie, how fast are we going?"
The Wookiee checked his instrument panel. His reply was full of surprise.
"How fast?" Solo asked again, not quite believing the Wookiee. Chewie
growled the same response.
"Oh boy."
"What is is, Han?" Leia asked.
"How fast are we going?" Luke added.
"According to the instruments we're going ten times faster than it should be
possible for us to go."
Luke inhaled sharply. "And how are they doing that?"
"My guess is those huge engines in the rear," Han answered. "By the size of
them I'd guess that this is just cruising speed for them."
A voice on the communications channel interrupted the conversation.
"Enterprise to Millennium Falcon."
"Solo, here," Han responded.
"This is Chief O'Brien. I've locked onto your signal and I'm going to beam
you aboard. If you could, please stand together in a clump."
"Fine, Chief. Solo out." Han turned to his friends. "Princess, if I've just
gotten us into a sticky situation, I'm counting on you to pull us out."
"Don't I always?" she retorted.
"I was thinking you could use your diplomacy skills. But the way you're
acting, perhaps some good old-fashioned Wookiee charm 'll convince them to
see things our way."
Chewie roared something, a nervousness evident in his voice. Han tried to
comfort him. "Come on, I'm sure it's nothing. Beaming probably means that
they'll just send out a welcoming shuttle or something. Relax, will you."
He turned around to Luke. "But just in case, be prepared for anything." Luke
tightened his grip on his lightsaber and Han felt to make sure his blaster
was still at his side.
They all got out of their seats and clustered in the rear of the Falcon's
cockpit. Then the six Rebels fazed out in a glimmering curtain and slowly
dissipated. The air was filled with a loud howl from Chewbacca as they were
beamed to the Enterprise.
Counselor Troi followed Picard, Riker, and Data into Transporter Room Four.
Lieutenant Worf and his security personnel were already stationed around the
room, though Worf had left the bridge after Troi and the others. Deanna
constantly marveled at Worf's capabilities, and this was no exception.
As they stepped in the room, Chief O'Brien reported to the Captain, "Just
beaming them over now, sir."
"Excellent, Chief."
Six columns of shimmering lights appeared on the transporter platform and
slowly shaped out to the images of six individuals. Even before they had
completely materialized there was a definite wail sounding from the guests.
Finally they materialized to true form and stood before the Enterprise
officers.
The guests all looked around the room, uncertain about their hosts'
intentions and unused to the alien interior and decor. The tall man in front
was handsome and dressed in a white shirt and navy-colored jacket, a holster
with some sort of weapon strapped to his leg. He was looking around
suspiciously. Troi sensed a nervousness about him. He was clearly on edge and
was searching for any signs of hostility on the part of the Enterprise.
Worf spotted the weapon and stepped in front of Picard. "Sir, I must ask you
for your weapon."
The handsome man looked surprised. He took a look around and realized that
even had he put up a fight about it, the six security guards he spotted in
the back of the room with weapons across their chests told him that there was
no way he and his friends would have gotten away. And he was sure there were
more such personnel outside. Han slowly reached for his blaster and lamely
pulled it from his holster. "Is this how you treat all your guests, Captain?"
Han asked, eyeing the crowd to spot the captain.
"When they bring weapons aboard my ship, yes I do," Picard answered.
"Well, you never can be too careful," Han added. He handed the blaster
handle-first to Worf. Chewie made a slight growl.
"I'm Captain Han Solo," he greeted, stepping off the platform.
That was Captain Solo, Troi noted. He was not much older than Riker and
already he was a captain. She wondered what kind of competition and struggle
Solo had to endure to achieve his status. Troi was amazed. And he was so
handsome.
Worf hesitated and stepped aside to allow Solo through. For the first time
Troi was able to see the rest of the group. They were a real ragtag group.
Not unlike the Enterprise crew, she noted. There was one female, a rather
large hairy creature, two metallic beings-one humanoid in shape and the other
appearing like a refuse depository-which she presumed were the droids Captain
Solo had mentioned, and there was one other man, younger than Solo, and
good-looking in his own right. But there was something uneven about him. Then
Troi realized that it was the disturbance that she could not identify earlier
on the bridge. It was coming from the young man from the Millennium Falcon.
She realized that she should alert the captain, but it would have to wait
until introductions were made and the visitors were in their quarters.
Captain Picard had on his best diplomatic face. Looking at him no one could
tell that he had just been through a violent battle and was suddenly thrust
into unfamiliar territory. He looked a gentleman and a scholar, but then
again, Picard actually was all that.
"Welcome to the Enterprise, Captain Solo," Picard said, and ventured to
shake hands with the visitor. He was hoping that it was a custom with which
they were familiar.
Solo took his grip and shook. "Thank you, Captain Picard."
"Let me introduce you to my crew," Picard said, stepping back to highlight
each member.
"This is my first officer, Commander William T. Riker." The bearded man
nodded his head. "My second officer Lieutenant Commander Data." The pale
faced android did likewise, mimicking Riker's gesture. "My Security Chief,
Lieutenant Worf." The burly Klingon handling Solo's blaster nodded, keeping a
surreptitious eye on Solo the entire time. "Ship's counselor, Deanna Troi."
Troi smiled. Han bowed slightly to her. She gave a nervous glance in Riker's
position, but he was staring off at the woman. Imzadi, she called mentally.
Riker stirred suddenly and looked in Troi's direction. Only she was no longer
paying attention. If Riker were going to be lost in the woman's eyes, Troi
would certainly not deter the advances of the dashing Han Solo.
Picard finished the introductions of his staff. "And this is Transporter
Chief, Miles O'Brien." O'Brien nodded his head to Solo curtly.
Han stood upright. "This is my co-pilot Chewbacca," he said and the large
hairy creature roared a salutation. "And this," Solo said, stepping aside to
let the woman down, "is Princess Leia Organa." She was beautiful and meek,
no, her thoughts were of a determined nature; she just appeared to be weak.
Troi looked her over; she was barely twenty and so sure of herself. Riker
took Solo's example and bowed slightly before Princess Leia, but he took it a
step further and embraced her hand. Troi felt herself become uneasy. She had
been pursued inadvertently, but Riker was blatantly flirting with the
Princess. Troi tried to block it from her thoughts.
"This is Commander Luke Skywalker," Han announced. The young man nodded. He
was around twenty himself, but his eyes held a jaded expression, one of age
holding great wisdom yet inexperience. He had a boyish charm because he was
still nearly a boy himself.
Worf stepped closer again. "Sir," he addressed Skywalker, "I'm afraid I must
take your weapon."
Luke looked down at the lightsaber in his hand then eyed Picard as he handed
the weapon to Worf. "Captain, I must ask that in the event of trouble with
the Empire, that I be allowed to have my weapon back. It's a family heirloom,
of a sort."
Picard nodded. "Make it so," he told Worf. The Klingon backed away.
Feeling neglected for not having been introduced, the human-looking android
stepped down from the transporter pad and approached Picard. "Hello, sir. I
am C-3PO, human-cyborg relations. I am fluent in over six million forms of
communications and-"
Han's voice over-powered the protocol droid's ramblings. "And I'm afraid
Goldenrod's never learned the words 'shut up.'"
Threepio continued, despite the verbal assault, and introduced the squat
droid to his side, "And this is my counterpart, R2-D2, an astromech droid."
Troi did not have to be an empath to read what Picard was thinking. Oh God,
not another one. "See-Threepio, is it?" Picard asked, raising his eyebrows.
"Yes, sir."
"I'd like to introduce you to Commander Data." He smiled diplomatically and
gestured to Data at his left. Threepio immediately maneuvered over to the
pale-faced android and began rattling off. The gold droid's prissy voice was
boisterous but attention to him was drowned out by an electronic sigh from
the Artoo droid.
"Come, we'll show you to your quarters," Picard said, directing the troupe
towards the door. "Captain Solo, Princess Leia, I shall be requesting you
shortly to discuss where exactly we are and what the situation is."
"What about the Falcon?" Han asked.
"I'll have Engineering fix that up."
"I'd prefer if Chewie helped with the repairs, Captain."
"Chewie?" Picard inquired.
"Chewbacca." Han indicated the hairy behemoth with a tilt of his head. "We
just need to augment the shields and repair a few laser burns. It should be
no trouble."
"Very well."
The troupe of Enterprise personnel and Millennium Falcon crew left the
transporter room, Picard, Riker, Solo, and Organa taking the lead. Troi
followed behind the caravan and could not help but smile at the exchange
between the droids walking directly in front of her.
Threepio was babbling to Data with no end to his rantings in sight. "I speak
Bocce, Baq'tai, Bandot, cal'Quo tox"
Nevertheless, Data's eyes brightened. "Intriguing."
The eight-inch holographic image of Captain Norsmo from the Tempest was set
before Darth Vader as the Dark Lord relayed his orders. "Report back to the
Death Star immediately. The Rebels are of no concern now. The Emperor thinks
that the new Death Star shall see the end of the Alliance. That is his
decision, not my own. Nonetheless, we shall carry out his wishes. Go,
Captain, and relay the orders to the other captains as well. The Executor
will remain behind to tow the damaged Star Destroyer Barricade."
"Yes, my lord," the image of Norsmo said and the image dissipated.
Vader activated the image of Admiral Garrison. "Admiral, I asked that you
report to me."
"Yes, sir. I was just on my way," came Garrison's nervous reply.
"Make sure that you are. Commander Jol will be reporting to the Barricade to
take your place." Vader swiftly cut off the transmission as Garrison formed a
grimace.
Before he had time to notify Commander Jol of his temporary promotion, Vader
sensed a young Imperial officer approaching. A moment later he stepped into
the doorway of Vader's chambers. "Lord Vader," he said.
"What is it, Lieutenant?"
"My Lord, we have lost contact with General Firell at Cassax."
"Find reports from someone else on Cassax, Lieutenant," Vader said.
"I'm afraid we can't, sir, we've lost contact with all of Cassax. Last
report was fifteen minutes ago from a freighter requesting clearance from the
Imperial grounds control. When it received no response it left. There has
been no contact since."
"Deploy a Victory Star Destroyer to Cassax and find out what is going on.
Cassax is distributing materials needed to complete this ship."
The lieutenant waited to be dismissed, but Vader sensed there was something
else to be said. "And the other thing, Lieutenant."
"Sir, a ship has just been spotted approaching."
"Do you have identification?"
"Negative, sir. It's nothing we've ever seen before. We checked the Imperial
records and can't find anything like it. Not even the Rebels have anything
like this."
Vader was silent, thinking. Only his heavy breathing filled the room. "What
does this ship look like?"
"I-it's about the half the length of the Barricade but its cube-shaped. It's
huge," the lieutenant reported.
"Cube-shaped," Vader repeated thoughtfully. "That is all, Lieutenant."
The young man left Darth Vader's chambers as the Dark Lord swiveled his
chair around and activated the holo-screen. A holo of the unidentified ship
was displayed. Vader relaxed and reached out with the Force, attempting to
read the thoughts of the men on board the approaching ship to find out who
they were. It was unlikely that it was a Rebel ship-the lieutenant was
correct about that; Vader knew the extent of the Alliance's resources and
they could not construct such a ship. Someone else was entering the game.
Vader tried to channel his vision through the eyes of the unidentified ship's
crew but he could not lock on to any single mind. He had trouble locking on
to anything. Vader grabbed hold of a thought and manipulated it as best he
could to read as much of the mind as possible. However, there was just a
faint sign of consciousness, almost a residual effect, nothing more. It was
as if there were no minds on board the ship.
Vader decided he would view the ship from the Executor's bridge. He stood
up, closed the shell throne where he was sitting, and left for the bridge.
Chapter Nine
The Deal
"Lord Vader," Commander Jol greeted as the Dark Jedi emerged on the bridge.
"I'm afraid we still have no identification on the ship, my lord."
"Where is Captain Darok?"
"Here, my lord," Darok said, stepping away from a console. "The unidentified
ship came from nowhere. They have made no effort at communication. I believe
it's a Rebel ship, some sort of secret weapon."
"No, Captain, it is not a Rebel ship."
"I beg my lord's pardon, but I think that it is a distinct possibility,"
Darok said.
"No, Captain," Vader repeated sternly, accenting his attitude with his
threatening finger. "There are no Rebels on that ship. Whatever it is, it is
something or someone we've never encountered before."
Vader turned to the commander at his left. "Commander Jol, take a shuttle
over to the Barricade and take command. I will need you there in the event
that a battle ensues."
Jol nodded. "Yes, Lord Vader." He walked off the bridge to the hangar bay.
Vader nodded and strode down the walkway between the two control pits. He
gazed out the port at the cube ship as it appeared ever closer.
"Captain," the communications officer called.
Darok stepped over to the station and peered over the officer's shoulder at
the monitor. "What is it?"
"We've received a transmission from the vessel."
Vader seemed to just appear behind Darok. The captain jumped slightly when
he noticed Vader standing over him.
"What did it say?" Darok prompted, trying his best to ignore Vader.
"'Resistance is futile. You will be assimilated.'"
When Han Solo and Chewbacca stepped into the Engineering section, Geordi
LaForge was looking at instrument panels and adjusting the shield generators.
"See if that works now," he ordered to one of his technicians. There was a
whine as the generators strained but nothing else happened. Geordi tapped his
fist on the console. "Well, try it again."
"Are you the engineer?" Han asked from behind LaForge. Geordi spun around.
"Yeah, Commander Geordi LaForge. What can I do for you?" He seemed
preoccupied but Han could not really blame him. After all, with a ship the
size of the Enterprise there were no doubt a lot of engineering problems, and
things did not seem to be going too well for him at the moment.
"The captain said that you'd help fix the Falcon," Solo said.
"Oh," it dawned on Geordi, "you're Captain Solo." He acknowledged Chewbacca
with a slight nod. "Let's have a look at your ship." He maneuvered over to a
console and brought up the ship's specs. Geordi looked oddly at the screen.
"That's, uh, an interesting freighter you've got there," he said, trying to
hold the discolor from his voice.
"It may not look like much," Han affirmed, "but it's a lot faster than you
think." Geordi did not seem impressed so Han added the familiar rhetoric. "It
can outrun Imperial star cruisers. This is the ship that made the Kessel run
in less than twelve parsecs."
"I'm sure it can," Geordi said without enthusiasm. "Look, there seems to be
a lot of damage-"
"No, that's the way she looks," Han interrupted.
"-and I'm afraid I can't spare my time right now. I've got to get the
shields back up, the warp engines back on line, and the phaser banks
reloaded. And so far, nothing seems to be working and we don't even know
where we are."
"That's fine, Chewie and I can repair her. Just beam us aboard-"
"No, wait a minute." Geordi paused a moment, thinking. He tapped his
communicator. "LaForge to O'Brien."
After a moment there came a reply. "O'Brien here, Commander."
"Chief, could you spare some time? Our visitors need some ship repairs."
O'Brien knew better than to complain to a superior officer but he almost did
anyway. At length he said, "All right Commander, I'll beam on over."
Han silently pointed to Chewbacca. Geordi nodded in understanding. "Chief,
one of them wants to help with repairs. Considering you really don't know
what the ship is like, I think it's a good idea. I'll send him to Transporter
Room Four."
"Understood, Commander." The communication cut off.
Han turned to Geordi. "Thanks, Commander. And good luck with your ship."
"You too, Captain," Geordi said and watched the odd visitors leave
Engineering.
A Lambda-class Imperial shuttle broke from the Executor's hangar bay and
soared over to the Star Destroyer Barricade. Its single passenger, excluding
the pilot, was Commander Jol on his way to take command of the lame vessel.
Jol looked through the window at the damaged ship he was to command. It was
in terrible shape and would be of no use in battle, but he considered the
opportunity an advancement. The fact that Darth Vader had thought highly
enough of him to assign him the job meant to Jol that he would do his best to
make the Barricade leave its mark.
The ship slipped into the hangar of the other Star Destroyer and moments
later Jol was on the bridge.
"Commander Jol," Lieutenant Shile said, as the commander approached. "Lord
Vader told us to expect you. The Barricade is yours." He stepped aside,
relinquishing command to Jol.
"Thank you, Lieutenant," he said and stepped to the head of the bridge.
"What's the situation?"
"The same as where you were. An unidentified ship has appeared on
starboard."
"Have they attempted to communicate?"
"Yes, sir. They left a message: 'Resistance is futile. You will be
assimilated.'"
"Has there been any action taken on their part?"
"No, sir."
"Good," Jol said. "Let's sit back and see how they handle the Executor.
We're dead in the water as is; we'll wait and see if we can do anything after
everyone has played their cards."
Admiral Garrison stepped onto the bridge of the Executor. He stopped shy of
the instrumentation to his left and stared out the window. His mind became
lost in the stars and the large cube ship off starboard. He had to shake his
attention away from outside. "Lord Vader, you summoned me," he said at
length.
Vader glanced over his shoulder at Garrison. "Sit back, Admiral, and watch."
The Dark Lord faced forward again.
There was tension on the bridge. Everyone was at his station and preparing
for a confrontation. Each one had complete confidence in the Empire's ability
to lambaste any enemy, but still there was uneasiness among the crew.
Captain Darok was reading one of the specs that the crew had read on the
approaching ship. "They have no shields," he muttered to himself. "What could
they possibly hope to accomplish without shields? This shouldn't take long."
One of the screens lit up and Darok turned at the technician's prodding.
"Sir, they're firing on us."
A huge beam lashed out against the Executor but stopped short on the ship's
shields. There was no damage.
"Return fire," Darok ordered. "We'll teach them to mess with the Empire."
The Super Star Destroyer lashed out at the cube with a wide pummeling of
laser fire. The blasts ripped apart the face of the cube; fire erupted from
the structure and the ship stopped dead.
Vader's breathing became uneven. The bridge was silent a moment-not even the
Dark Lord's breathing sounded. He was feeling for minds on the ship once
again. He was quite positive that there were no sentient minds, just faint
traces of distant thoughts.
"Captain, the ship is repairing itself," a young officer reported.
"What?" Darok asked. He peered out the window and sure enough, the cube was
quickly reshaping, rebuilding the damaged sections in mere seconds. They
could not have done repairs so quickly. He looked in astonishment at the
cube-shaped ship before them, completely in tact. It took the Empire a week
to repair the type of damage that ship had attained, and that was with a
thousand repair workers working double shifts. No one could repair a ship in
seconds. It was impossible.
"Prepare to fire again," he ordered.
Vader could feel something different about the cube now. Something was at
work there, he could feel it. He stretched out with the Forcexand discovered
a collective mind. Finally he could read what they were feeling, what they
were thinking. They were the Borg.
He spun around. "Captain Darok, I want you to prepare my ship. Admiral," he
said, turning to Garrison, "come with me."
O'Brien strolled into Transporter Room Four with his hands laden with repair
tools. He really was not sure what he might need so he brought everything. As
much as he had wanted to tell LaForge that he did not want to fix the guests'
ship, he could not help feeling that it was the opportunity he had been
looking for, an opportunity to discover an entire new engineering structure,
new principles, and maybe even new properties of physics.
His hopes dashed when he spotted Chewbacca already on the transporter pad.
Of all the visitors, why did they have to send me the walking carpet? he
thought. This was going to be like having Worf tend a garden-a disaster.
O'Brien sighed. "Ensign, two to beam to the Millennium Falcon," he said as
he stepped on the pad himself. "Energize."
The pair disappeared in a shimmer and Chewbacca wailed ever slightly while
transporting. It was his second trip and he was not as apprehensive about
traveling via transporter. If only he knew that his atoms were being thrust
apart, O'Brien thought with a grin.
They reappeared on the bridge of the Falcon and O'Brien's frown deepened
more. He gazed around at the instrument panels and the haphazard wiring of
the ship's systems. "What a piece of junk," he remarked to himself. "No
wonder the commander didn't want to repair this himself. He may be blind, but
even he knows garbage when he sees it."
Then O'Brien became painfully aware of Chewbacca's presence. Chewie growled
softly, perhaps inquisitively. O'Brien shrugged. How would this hairy oaf
know what he was saying? It looked to him that he was on his own. Chewbacca
would be of little help.
Chapter Ten
Cards on the Table
"Fire!" Captain Darok shouted. The Super Star Destroyer Executor, still on
its maiden voyage, lashed out against the attacking cube-shaped ship. Even
though the Executor had never been tested before, he was fully aware of its
capabilities, and he was going to display its power to their unidentified
attackers.
The lasers lashed out and struck a shield surrounding the cube, harmlessly
bouncing away.
"Sir, the lasers had no effect," a crewman reported.
"I am aware of that. What happened?" Darok demanded.
"It seems they've built shields to retain our fire."
"Then why didn't they have them before?" Darok was more than irritated by
the cube. Its crew was determined to 'assimilate' him and his men. He was
angry. "Fire again. Spread the lasers to various parts of the ship. Let's see
how wide and how strong their shields are." He added as an afterthought, "And
send A-Squadron out. That'll keep them busy while we figure out their
weakness."
Darok watched through the forward viewport as lasers lashed out against the
ship's shields. Every shot was deflected. He frowned. In the corner of the
viewport the squadron of TIE fighters soared towards the advancing cube as
laser fire riddled the cube's shields.
The TIEs reared up for an attack as streams of light burst from the cube and
lashed each of the fighters into a small cloud of flame. The space was serene
as the Executor ceased firing for a moment, and the debris from the destroyed
A-Squadron floated away silently.
Captain Darok was in awe. He had never seen such accuracy in firing. The
best Imperial fighter pilots could not target moving objects with such skill,
even with targeting computers. "Who are they?" Darok asked himself.
The cube fired a concentrated beam at the Executor. Darok did not even
flinch. He knew that the ship's shields would withstand the laser. The
Barricade, on the other hand, would not. But so far, the cube had paid no
mind to the lame craft that the Executor was towing. With any luck, it would
remain that way.
"Target on the source of that beam," Darok commanded. "Let's see if we can
break through those shields and cut off their weapons supply.
Then the ship shook. Captain Darok struggled to retain his balance. He
looked around the bridge at the startled faces of his crew. "What happened?"
he asked, trying to keep the fear in his voice undetectable.
One of the technicians at a console displaying the ship's systems answered.
"We've been hit, sir." The intonation of his voice revealed wonder. "They've
penetrated our shields."
"In only two shots?" Darok asked in disbelief.
"Sir, shields failing," another crewman reported.
The cube was almost upon them. It was gigantic, a massive form, nearly the
same size as the Super Star Destroyer.
"Release B-Squadron," Darok ordered. "We'll provide cover. I want them to
see if they can break through a spot where we've already shot. Have them
follow the course of our fire. Keep communication open with them."
The crewmen prepared Captain Darok's plan as ordered but it did not go
through. Before it could be initiated, the cube ship was right up next to the
Executor and another beam lashed out, this time slicing through the Imperial
cruiser.
"That beam's cutting through our hull!" came a shout from the crew pit.
Darok could not identify who it was.
The captain looked outside the viewport as the beam pulled back a small
cube-shaped section of the ship, his ship. Grey uniformed officers and
stormtroopers were pushed out into space, perishing instantly. The section of
the ship slowly retreated and joined the massive cube ship in front of the
Executor.
'Assimilated.' The word ran through Captain Darok's mind. His face became
deathly white. "My God. Full retreat. They're ripping us apart!"
Panic and pandemonium spread through the passageways of the Super Star
Destroyer as dozens of Imperial soldiers and officers scurried for cover. The
east wall erupted in sparks and sections of the wall blasted out, killing
dozens of crewmen. Darth Vader was rushing to his TIE fighter with Admiral
Garrison in tow. Vader did not even flinch at the explosion though the
admiral inadvertently jumped.
"What's going on?" Garrison asked.
"It appears that Captain Darok is insufficiently dealing with the Borg,"
Vader responded, stepping casually over the bodies of the dead Imperial
stormtroopers.
"The Borg? You mean the cube ship?" Garrison inquired.
"Yes. I felt their presence."
"And what are we doing?"
"I am going over to the ship."
"Out there? Lord Vader, with all due respect, you cannot possibly think that
you can make it to the ship alone. Let Darok handle them."
"It will not be a problem, Admiral. The Force shall guide me safely."
"The Force? But my lord, you do not know what they are capable of. At least
send an escort."
"No, Admiral, I will go alone. I can disguise my approach from the Borg
collective."
Garrison shrugged. "Then what am I here for?"
"You shall cover my departure by disposing of the waste material from the
ship. The Borg will be distracted by the garbage."
"Understood." Garrison was silent as he followed Darth Vader. He felt a
vibration beneath his feet and looked quizzically at the floor. "The floor,"
he commented.
"What?" Vader exclaimed when he felt the ship pull in a retreat. "We cannot
retreat now. Garrison, tell Captain Darok to stay where he is."
Garrison turned to go back to the bridge and ran right into the arms of a
tall pale figure implemented with black hoses, face plates, and a metallic
right arm with a nozzle tapered at the end. Garrison tried to shout to Vader
but the tall figure aimed its stubbed appendage at the admiral and Garrison
was struck dead by a blue beam.
Lord Vader was suddenly surrounded by the glittering figures of six Borg
soldiers. A group of stormtroopers peered out from around the corner to
protect their lord without the Dark Jedi even having to summon them. "Halt,"
the lead scout shouted.
One of the Borg turned and fired a beam from its stub. The stormtrooper fell
and the air was immediately filled with the shriek of laser fire. A fire
fight ensued, the stormtroopers sought cover as the Borg blatantly stood
their ground, firing back with deadly accuracy.
Darth Vader thrust one of the Borg soldiers against the wall while the pale
creature struggled to direct its arm appendage at the Dark Lord. "Where do
you come from?" Vader demanded. He was not trying to be inquisitive but was
trying to pique the soldier's mind. All he could connect with was the
collective. He tossed the soldier to the ground, conceding that he needed to
get in touch with the actual collective.
The Borg sat up on its arm and fired its blaster at Vader. The Dark Lord
sensed the shot and spun around, deflecting the laser blast with the Force.
Undaunted, the Borg fired again, but the blast ricocheted and struck the
wall in a shower of sparks. Laser fire flashed all around him and Vader could
hear the death cries of the Imperial troopers. One of the Borg had fallen but
the rest had quickly adapted to the Imperial lasers and the blasts struck
harmlessly off their personal force fields.
Vader thumbed the stud on the handle in his palm and there was a sharp snap
followed by a terrible hiss as the corridor lit up with the red glow of Darth
Vader's lightsaber. Swiftly he swung the blade around and sliced through two
more Borg soldiers in a single swipe. With the Force he managed to deflect
his own soldier's misguided laser fire.
A Borg stepped from behind Vader and struck the black figure with its
appendage. Vader staggered forward but regained his balance. The Borg came
for another attack but was met by Vader's tight grasp. He gripped the
soldier's arm appendage and brought his saber down slicing the arm off at the
shoulder. The Borg did not scream out, but the antenna on his head twisted
about feverishly. It was receiving a signal from the collective.
Vader tried to tap into the communique but failed. He needed to contact the
collective. Either he had to get over there or he had to bring them here.
With two other Borg remaining, Vader figured he could take one without
damaging it. He resolved to rid himself of the bothersome creature before him
and swiped his lightsaber across the Borg's midsection. Unfortunately the
blade stopped short and collapsed back into its casing.
Vader looked down at the handle in his palm as the Borg converged. The
invaders had adapted their shields to the lightsaber; it was no longer an
effective weapon.
The Borg approached. The stormtroopers riddled the air with fire but the
other two were carefully picking the Imperial soldiers off one by one.
Suddenly the Borg flew against the wall without anything touching it. The
other Borg turned and Vader forced one's appendage to aim at the other Borg
and fire. The soldier collapsed to the ground as Vader attempted to strangle
the remaining Borg with the Force. He turned to the other Borg on the floor
with only one arm and ripped apart the Borg piece by piece, as the Borg were
doing to his ship.
As the last Borg invader collapsed to the ground the fire fight ceased. The
stormtroopers peered out and approached the Dark Lord with care. Vader was
sharp with his command, he had neither time nor desire to be subtle. "Tell
Captain Darok to cancel the retreat. I shall go to my ship as planned."
At Vader's feet, the dark lord did not notice the six Borg soldiers
disappearing in a grey shimmer.
Chapter Eleven
Game, Set, and Match
"Sir," an officer from the pit addressed, peering up from his console. "The
intruder has penetrated the Executor's shields."
Commander Jol stood there, as helpless as could be. He was placed in command
of the lame vessel Barricade in the midst of a battle. They had no shields,
no armament, no TIE fighters, and no hyperdrive or propulsion engines. They
were sitting helplessly in space as the Super Star Destroyer Executor, the
greatest weapon besides the Death Star that the galaxy had ever known, was
ravaged by invaders. The cube was massive, slightly longer than the Barricade
in size. The Victory-class Star Destroyer paled in comparison to the Borg
ship.
Jol watched as sections of the Executor were sliced up and brought back to
the other ship. Everything fell into place. They were tearing the ship apart,
bit by bit, assimilating the Empire. Jol's temper rose. He could not sit back
quietly.
"We're going to get those scum out of here," he said angrily.
"But sir, we have nothing to fight with," Lieutenant Shile protested. "And
look what they're doing to the Executor."
Jol frowned. "Yes, I know. But we must stop them, in the name of the
Galactic Empire."
Shile was nervous and made no point in disguising that fact. "What do you
propose to do? We have no armament or propulsion."
"Regulate what power we have to deflecting the tractor beam from the
Executor. We can push off and head for the cube, allowing the capitol cruiser
to escape."
"But sir," Shile complained, "what good will that do?"
"It will buy the Executor some time," Jol responded, "and the Barricade some
glory."
"Come," Picard said, answering the chime at the door of his ready room.
Commander William Riker stepped through the door. Picard was not surprised to
see Riker, in fact, he was expecting him.
"What can I do for you, Number One?"
"Sir, all the guests have been shown to their quarters," Riker reported.
"Good. There were no problems, I hope."
"No sir, it's just that-" Riker broke off, trying to find a way to say what
he wanted without insulting anyone. "I'm not sure how much we should really
trust them, Captain."
"Hmm," Picard nodded, "I see. Well, I quite agree. We are in new territory
and it is our job to find out all we can about them to get home. However,
that does not entail them knowing all about us. What do you propose?"
"I don't think we should let them out of our sights. Have one of the senior
officers with each of them at all times."
"That may be quite difficult to maintain in case of an emergency," Picard
noted.
"True. We could have security and some of the other officers cover them in
such an instance."
"But I do not want them to feel like prisoners here, Number One. Make them
welcome, but do not commit ourselves to helping them too much. This Empire
they spoke of, I believe it is the authority here. If these people are
criminals we shall have no dealings with them other than the common
hospitality of repairing their ship."
"And if they aren't criminals?" Riker asked.
"The same." Picard looked thoughtful. "But our main priority is getting the
ship repaired and getting us back home. These guests of ours may shine some
insight into how to return home."
"Aye, sir. Data is attempting that now. And the one called Chewbacca is
helping Chief O'Brien repair their ship."
"Very well. And remember Will, they are our guests," Picard reminded.
Riker smiled. "I know just the place to keep tabs on them."
"Cancel the retreat?" Captain Darok repeated in disbelief. "But we're being
slaughtered. If Lord Vader were here he'd know I was right." He looked at his
crew. He knew there was nothing he could do but follow orders, but he was
going to let the crew know that it was not him who was sending them to their
deaths, it was Darth Vader.
"All right, return to position. Maintain firing." He sighed. "Let's see if
we can find a weakness."
"Sir," a crewman reported. "The Barricade is breaking off the tractor beam."
"What are they doing?" Captain Darok commanded. "Bring Jol on line."
A grainy computer image of Commander Jol appeared on the monitor. "What are
you doing, Commander?" Darok demanded.
"Buying you some time," Jol answered swiftly.
"But the ship has been ignoring you so far. Don't risk yourself."
"I must," Jol responded. "Lord Vader entrusted me with this ship. I was
given command of a lame ship, with a skeleton crew and none of the major
systems on line. We're going to go out defending the Empire." The
transmission was abruptly cut short.
"Damn fool, he's going to get himself killed," Darok remarked to himself.
Really it was none of his business. It did not matter to him if Commander Jol
got himself killed-it was one less officer aspiring for his position-but
Captain Darok regretted the loss of hundreds of good Imperial soldiers. "All
the time in the world is not going to give us a damn bit of good unless Lord
Vader decides we can retreat."
Chapter Twelve
The Last Stand
The Dark Lord of the Sith entered the hangar bay. It was deserted as there
were strict orders not to leave the ship. The Borg had proven to be a worthy
adversary, and TIE fighters were completely ineffective against them. In the
rear of the hangar was Lord Vader's inverted TIE with its solar panels curved
slightly.
He approached his personal fighter and prepared to board it when he heard
the familiar chiming of the Borg's transporter beam behind him. He turned to
find eight Borg officers with their metallic appendages all aimed at him,
circling around him. He did not have time to fight as the Borg disappeared
again, this time with Darth Vader.
"What exactly is the Barricade doing?" Captain Darok asked. The Star
Destroyer had used the tractor beam connecting it to the Executor as a
slingshot and burst directly towards the cube ship.
"Maintain your fire, but don't hit our ship. They'll need all the help they
can get. Take evasive action if that cube starts another one of those slicing
beams. I'm tired of my ship being shredded."
Darok paced the bridge, which was aptly named for on either side of the room
was a large pit where the majority of the ship's activities took place. The
command officers walked the thin bridge between the twin pits so as to get a
better view of the battle and so as not to have to socialize with the
underling Imperial officers unless necessary.
The cube was concentrating its fire on the Barricade, drawing some of its
power away from its onslaught of the Super Star Destroyer. For that, Darok
was grateful. The beams let up as the defenseless Barricade was pummeled. The
ship moved into a position in front of the Executor, eclipsing the cube.
Captain Darok watched as the huge Star Destroyer merged into the cube and
burst into a huge cloud of flame. The Barricade charged through the cubed
ship's shields and penetrated the actual ship, perishing at that moment in
marvelous Imperial glory.
"Fire on their point of entry!" Captain Darok shouted. "Fire everything
we've got! Then let's get the hell out of here! I don't care what Lord Vader
thinks, the Barricade just gave us our ticket out of here!"
As the Super Star Destroyer pulled away through hyperspace, the Borg would
have normally followed. It was not much effort, and they could easily match
the huge ship for speed. But they were content to stay where they were. After
all, they had gotten what they wanted. They had several new creatures to
assimilate, new technology to add to their own, and a special gift. Parading
down the catwalks between the millions of storage units housed by 'sleeping'
Borg were eight soldiers escorting the towering black figure Darth Vader.
Chapter Thirteen
Difficult Lessons
"Commander!" Troi shouted after the young man.
Luke Skywalker turned at the mention of his name. "Yes, Counselor?" They
were in the main corridor on the guest level of the Enterprise. Troi ran up
to meet him.
"Commander, I was just wondering if I could have a word with you." She
smiled. "If you're not too busy," she added.
"No, not at all. Shall we talk here?"
"Actually," Troi said, for some reason having trouble saying it, "I'd prefer
that we were in my quarters. Unless you object."
Luke smiled. "No, that's quite all right."
"Fine, Commander. This way." Troi turned to go to her quarters on another
deck but Luke stopped her.
"Counselor, if you don't mind I prefer Luke to Commander. Only the Generals
call me that. And Threepio calls me Master, but that's something different."
"Master, eh?" Troi said, raising an eyebrow. "And where did you get a title
like that so young?"
"Well, he's a droid. My Uncle Owen bought him from some Jawas back home, and
he and Artoo were a big part of why I joined the Rebellion," Luke explained.
"Luke, you can call me Deanna."
"Fine, Deanna. So where do we go?"
"Follow me."
They made it to Troi's quarters and she offered Luke a seat. He did his best
to make himself comfortable.
"What did you want to speak to me about?" Luke inquired.
Troi sat beside him, an awkward silence in the air. "Luke, I'm the ship's
counselor. When the crew have problems, they come to me. Similarly when we
encounter new races, I try to establish a peaceful rapport. I come from a
planet called Betazed."
"I'm afraid I've never heard of it," Luke apologized.
"That's all right. I think it's too far away for you to notice. Anyway, on
Betazed, the people have the ability to read others' minds."
Luke squirmed a bit in his chair.
Troi was quick to comfort him. "But, you see, I am only half Betazoid; my
father was human. I can't read thoughts, I can only read emotions."
Luke seemed to relax slightly. "And you think I have a problem, because you
can sense it?" he hazarded a guess.
"On the contrary, I think I may have a problem, because I cannot sense you.
The rest of your companions are no effort; I can read their feelings fine.
When you all came aboard I sensed confusion and apprehension, almost
trepidation. Captain Solo and Princess Leia were no problem. You, on the
other hand-I got no reading from you. Now, without prying too much into your
personal life, I'd like to ask you why? Are you an android like Data?"
"Data's a droid?" Luke asked with surprise.
"Yes, but don't get off the subject. Are you?"
Luke looked down at his feet, as if wondering what they were doing down on
the ground. "No, I'm a person." He had trouble speaking as well.
"It's okay Luke, you can tell me anything. And I won't tell anyone, even
Captain Picard, if you don't want me to."
Luke closed his eyes a moment, almost as if he were meditating. He opened
them and said, "No, that's okay, I trust you. The reason you can't read me is
that I have not chosen to allow you to. I could if I wanted, but I don't.
It's nothing personal, it's just a preference. You see, I'm in a sort of
training."
"Training? What kind? Military training?" Troi was trying to understand.
"No, to be a Jedi."
Troi's brow creased. "A Jedi? What's that?"
"A Jedi is a warrior, someone who defends justice in the galaxy. The Jedi
Knights policed the galaxy for a thousand years. They have the ability to
manipulate the Force, the power that binds us all, holds us together,
surrounds our very being."
"The Over-Soul," Troi muttered to herself.
"Excuse me?" Luke asked.
"Oh, sorry," she said, understanding his confusion. "It's an idea by an old
Earth writer?"
"Earth?" Luke asked.
"We'll get to that in a moment. But what about this Force thing?"
"Here, I'll show you." He stood up. "Do you have a blindfold, or something
to cover my eyes with?"
"Sure, just a moment." Troi left to the other room and returned with a
decorated silk cloth. "Here."
"All right, I'm going to tie this over my eyes." He did so and said, "Now I
want you to throw things at me, preferably something that will hurt a bit if
it were to hit me. But not breakable."
"What are you going to do?" she asked, concern evident in her voice.
"Watch. Now, try to trick me. If I expect where you're going to throw, it
will spoil the demonstration. Okay, I'm ready."
Deanna Troi looked at the handsome young man before him speaking of a
mystical Force that supposedly he could control. She grabbed a handful of
objects from around the room. She was not sure about this, but he seemed to
know what he was doing.
She threw the first object at him. It had a sharp end but was unbreakable,
just as he asked. The projectile flew towards him and Luke's reaction was
swift as he dodged it. "Throw more, all at once!" he commanded.
Troi obliged. She threw a bundle of objects at him from various angles. With
lightning reflexes Luke managed to dodge them all. He ducked, twisted to the
side, and did every body contortion imaginable. It was an amazing sight. She
continued to throw more objects, being clever throwing them in an uneven
pattern and aiming at his chest where it was difficult to maneuver away. Luke
dodged every one.
Troi thrust the last object at him, tricking him by tossing it to the side
and straight to the ground. To her surprise Luke's hand shot out and caught
the object, just a hair's width from the ground.
Luke stood upright and took off the blindfold. He looked at the object in
his palm. It was an antique glass vase, not in any danger of hitting him, and
very much breakable.
"I'm impressed," Troi remarked.
Luke carefully handed her the vase. "Don't be. I don't do it to impress
people. In fact, because of my ability I am wanted very much by both the
Empire and the Rebellion. You see, the Jedi use the force to maintain peace.
They are able to do many great things. but, there is also a dark side to the
power. If I were to give into hate or greed, for instance, I would be
immersed into the dark side of the Force, forever lost."
"I think I understand. So, how does this Force work? Can anybody do it?"
Luke frowned. "I'm not really sure about either question. For the latter,
the Force runs strong in my family. My father was a great Jedi Knight but was
betrayed and murdered when the Emperor decided to kill all of the Jedi. Ben
taught me the ways of the Force."
"Then Ben was not a Jedi?" Troi asked.
"No, Ben was a Jedi. Somehow the Emperor and Vader missed Ben, and he
survived the genocide. He went by General Obi-Wan Kenobi back in the days of
the Clone Wars, and was one of the greatest of the Jedi."
"Woah, wait a minute," Troi stopped him. "I'm getting confused. Let's just
stick to this Force thing. How does it work?"
Luke again struggled for words. "Well, as I said, Ben taught me a little
about the ways of the Force, but I haven't received any formal training. As
near as I know, Darth Vader, the Emperor, and I are the only Jedi left, the
other two being Dark Jedi. Anyway, you want to know how it works. Since I had
the Force running through me to begin with, I surmise it is a bit inherited,
though it may be like talent and you could learn a few tricks. You let all
your feelings go, fall into an almost trance-like state, and relax. I feel my
sense become more keenly aware and I can do things I never thought possible.
I haven't gotten very good at levitation yet, but I'm working on it."
"Levitation?"
"Yeah. I didn't want to show you because I'm not very good at it and I was
afraid you wouldn't believe me."
"Why wouldn't I believe you. I've seen many strange things on our trek
through space," Troi said.
"Well, Han hasn't completely bought into the idea yet."
"I see. So basically you let go of all provincial sense and feelings, and an
almost instinct takes over. You then manipulate this life-force that is
within us all, binding us together."
"Yes, but telekinesis is much easier to manipulate unmoving objects. Though
I can manipulate minds. Supposedly, anyway."
Troi frowned. "Now that does bother me. Why would you want to manipulate
minds? You are supposed to be good."
Luke nodded in understanding. "It's not morally correct for a Jedi to misuse
his power because he constantly walks a thin line of temptation with the dark
side. But there are times when such things are necessary. Is it right to read
people's minds, or even emotions when they do not want you to? You don't
think about it, do you? But sometimes it's necessary. You are only trying to
help, or just survive. That's what we do. But Jedi are capable of many
things: prognostication, mind control, voice manipulation, and healing."
"Healing?" Troi interrupted.
Luke looked away. "Yeah, well, I'm not that good at any of this. I've only
recently been working on all this."
"What about Ben?" Troi asked.
This time Luke pulled away completely, their delicate contact disrupted. In
a soft voice he answered, "Ben's dead. He was killed by Darth Vader."
Troi realized immediately why he pulled away, and for a brief second caught
a glimpse of Luke Skywalker's emotions. They were not of rage, as she would
have expected from someone whose friend was slain, but were feelings of
remorse. Luke was really not angry at this Darth Vader. Maybe there was
something to this Force that he was talking about.
"I'm sorry, Luke," Deanna said, putting an arm around his shoulder.
He straightened up. "No, it's okay. But I've been trying to train myself,
without much luck I'm afraid. For instance, when you guys showed up, I tried
to read your thoughts, but Ben and I never got that far in the training. In
fact, we only had a short time together."
"What was wrong with the mind reading?" Troi asked, trying to pull the
conversation away from the painful subject of Ben Kenobi.
"Well, I couldn't get a lock on any thoughts. There were thousands of minds
on board and I couldn't differentiate any thoughts."
Troi nodded. "Here," she said, edging closer to him. "I'll tell you a
secret. My empathic abilities are very limited; as I said, I can only read
emotions. But I've had a lifetime to hone this ability. What I do is try to
center in on one thought. Find something unique about one's mind, his
personality. Use that to identify him from others. With a little work you can
figure out how many people are on the ship."
"I'll try that," Luke smiled. He closed his eyes and stretched out with the
Force. Troi could not tell what exactly he was doing, but she heard him
mutter the word 'Leia' before his head collapsed against his chest. He looked
up and there was a broad grin across his face. "It worked. Thank you,
Deanna."
Troi joined the festive spirit. "I'm glad I could help, Luke."
Luke looked into her eyes. "Now, is that what you wanted to know?" Troi
nodded. "Well, now that that's out of the way, can I ask you something?"
"Sure."
"Tell me about Earth."
Princess Leia Organa shuddered slightly at the entrance to Captain Picard's
ready room. She had felt a cold chill run up her spine a moment ago and could
have sworn she heard someone call her name. She looked around the bridge
behind her, but there was no one there whom she recognized. It must have been
her imagination, she realized and shrugged it off. Instead, she stepped
closer to Picard's door. A chime sounded and a voice responded from the other
side. "Come."
Leia stepped inside. "Hello, Captain," she greeted.
Picard stood and offered his hand to shake Leia's. "Welcome, Princess.
Please, sit down. What can I do for you?"
"I came here asking for your aide. I've glanced slightly around the ship and
recognize that you have many abilities far more advanced than we have."
Picard squirmed in his seat. "I'd like to help you, Princess Organa, but I'm
afraid my hands are tied. You see, we have a Prime Directive which we must
strictly follow. It stipulates that we cannot interfere in any culture, no
matter what."
"Then why did you help us with our ship?"
"Because you asked us to," Picard answered promptly. "We respond with
hospitality to anyone who asks."
"But surely, Captain, if we ask for aide in our war then you must help."
"I'm afraid not, Princess. Our primary concern here is to repair our ship
and go home. We extended out hospitality to you and your friends for two
reasons: you looked like you needed help, and ship repair and shelter are
things we would offer to anyone. Entering into a galactic war, on the other
hand, is not. The other reason is we were hoping you could offer us some
insight into how we can return home."
"But Captain, can't you see that that is all we're trying to as well. Let me
tell you a story." Leia leaned back into the couch's cushions. "For a
thousand years the galaxy was ruled by the Old Republic. The guardians of the
Old Republic were great warriors known as Jedi Knights and we were governed
by elected senators. Everything was peaceful for nearly a thousand
generations until power-hungry people created a world of violence, injustice,
and general chaos. A young senator named Palpatine was elected into the
presidency with promises of returning order to the Old Republic. Instead,
once he gained power, Palpatine declared himself Emperor, created a
tyrannical galaxy, and eventually built the New Order.
"Now Captain, let me tell you about this New Order. The Emperor decided that
them Knights posed too great a threat and so had all the Jedi killed. They
are nearly extinct now, with only a few individuals around, including the
Emperor himself. Since then he has built up the Galactic Empire, the ruling
force in the galaxy, which terrorizes whole planets into submission. Those
ships we left behind were Imperial Star Destroyers. They are nearly three
times the size of your vessel and are great killing machines used for
planetary invasions. A handful of worlds decided to break away from the
Empire and formed the Rebel Alliance. My father was one of the founding
members. We have banded together to oppose the tyranny of the Emperor.
Because of our threat, the Emperor recently abolished the Imperial Senate
completely, of which I was a part for a time, and will not allow anyone to do
what he accomplished in the past. You see, Captain, we are just trying to
return home ourselves. We want the Old Republic back and the Empire
abolished."
Picard was silent. At length he spoke, a somber tone in his voice. "It is
not within my power to-"
Leia interrupted. "Captain, you don't understand." Leia's voice was a
mixture of anger and desperation. She was determined to get Picard's help. "A
while ago the Empire built a secret weapon called the Death Star. We received
the plans to the weapon and wanted to destroy it but my escort ship was
intercepted. I sent the plans in Artoo but I was caught by Lord Vader. The
Empire tortured me to tell them what I did with the plans, but I wouldn't
talk. Finally they threatened my family. And just to spite me, they destroyed
my home world of Alderaan, blew it completely out of the sky right before my
eyes. Now Captain, I don't know if you've got the capabilities to do that,
but at any rate, it tells you that the Empire is immensely powerful. They can
destroy an entire planet with a single shot. Now I implore you, Captain, aide
us in our struggle. We destroyed the Death Star, but Intelligence reports
that the Empire is building up for a massive retaliation. The Empire is
striking back, Captain Picard, and without your help, the Rebel Alliance may
perish and all will be lost."
Silence followed. Picard seemed to be searching within himself. Leia knew
that positions of authority required that one be a diplomat and that Captain
Picard's years of service had molded him into a very good diplomat. But Leia
was born into that thread. She did not study diplomacy, it was a way of life
for her while growing up, to the point where she was an Imperial senator at
the young age of eighteen. She became a diplomat by her lifestyle, by
position, and most importantly, by necessity, making her unprecedented in the
art of diplomacy. She appealed to Picard's personal feelings of power crazed
maniacs and the suffering of the innocents. It was a tough tactic, but Leia
knew that the Rebellion needed the aide. She was sure that this would bring
Captain Picard and the Enterprise crew to their aide.
Before Picard could respond his communicator beeped and Data's voice broke
over the channel addressing the captain. He tapped his insignia. "Picard
here."
"Captain, I have the information you requested on our whereabouts."
"Very well, Commander. We shall have a meeting of the senior officers in the
conference lounge in ten minutes. Make the arrangements, Mr. Data. Picard
out." The captain turned to the sincere face of Princess Leia. She had heard
the message and had wondered exactly how what the captain found out at the
meeting would effect his decision. "Princess Organa, I must make my leave.
About your request, I shall take it under consideration. Meanwhile, we shall
complete the repairs on your ship and at the very least see you to safety."
"Damn!" O'Brien shouted. This damn ship is just too confusing. All the wires
have been cross-routed to who-knows-what, and you've got gadgets and gizmos
galore that don't mean squat to me. I don't know how you stay airborne."
Chewbacca tilted his head quizzically to the side, trying to figure out
exactly what O'Brien was complaining about.
The chief looked up at Chewie. "Ahh, you don't know what I'm talking about."
He huddled back down into the pit to continue with the repairs. His legs were
tangled in a mess of wires and he was not making hide nor hair of the
situation.
He held what appeared to be a conductor box in his hands and twisted it
around. "Now I think this is what I need, but I'm not too sure how it works.
Hand me that thing," he asked of Chewie, pointing to the instrument laying in
the deck. It was a glowing prod and Chewie fumbled with it in his hand a
moment before giving it to O'Brien. "Careful with that," he cautioned. "It
could singe that fur of yours. Nowx" His voice trailed off as he traced the
box with the device. "Well, so much for that," O'Brien conceded after it had
no effect.
Chewie growled and startled O'Brien. "What is it?" Chewbacca made a grab for
the device and the box but the chief struggled to pull it away. "Oh, no you
don't. These are sensitive devices. Your paws are staying out of this."
The Wookiee tossed his head back and wailed, the worst complaining that
O'Brien had ever heard. "Come on, you're not going to do any good," he tried
to reason with Chewbacca, but Chewie did not listen and yanked the objects
out of O'Brien's hands. "Fine. Have it your way. If you get stuck out here
without any shields and come into an asteroid field, that's no skin off my
nose."
Chewie worked the objects around in his hands. Like O'Brien, he ran the prod
around the box, and again nothing happened. He looked at the handheld device,
then adjusted the frequency by twisting the nob at the end of the handle and
traced it around the conductor box. This time the box breathed to life and
lights flashed on. Chewie roared triumphantly.
O'Brien looked at him. "All right, I see you know what you're doing," he
conceded. Chewbacca carefully inputted the conductor box where there was a
gap in the electronics, and quickly, skillfully, wired it back up to the
ship's shield generators. O'Brien was impressed.
"Well, if I'm reading this right," O'Brien said, glancing at the output
screen, "the shields are back on line." Chewbacca looked at him and O'Brien
felt drawn to look back at him. The behemoth before him had just shown great
engineering skill, much more than he would have guessed possible. At first
glance, even at tenth glance, Chewbacca looked like a hairy brute, incapable
of harboring a delicate touch. But getting to know him as O'Brien did,
working with him, he began to realize that there was more to this creature:
he could be both gentle and fierce. To be fair, O'Brien did not have much
faith in Chewbacca's abilities, up until a moment ago, but all that had
changed. He stared into Chewie's deep blue eyes and realized that the brute
had a heart and that underneath he was as gentle as a lamb.
Chapter Fourteen
Four-Point-Five Trillion Light-Years From Home
Once again the atmosphere in the conference lounge was one of tension. The
crew knew that they were far from home and that they had six very unusual
guests on board. But most of all the knew that if they found a way to return
home, there was a major possibility that they would land back right smack
into the Borg. Picard sat down at the head of the table. All the senior
officers were there; Dr. Crusher had left sickbay in Dr. Selar's capable
hands and Geordi LaForge had Lieutenant Barclay finishing up what repairs
they could do without the benefit of a starbase's facilities.
"We all know why we're here," Picard began, "so let's dispense with the
formalities. Mr. Data, where exactly are we?"
Data turned toward the captain. "The information that I have gathered
through my investigations and through my discussions with See-Threepio and
Artoo-Detoo, I have pieced together a probable scenario. The sensors showed
that we past through was a new type of temporal space rift. That is what
Artoo-Detoo called it. For lack of a better name, I shall refer to it as
that. It seems to be a unique phenomenon, at least in our encounters. Similar
to a wormhole, this anomaly has the ability to displace matter through the
dimensions of both time and space."
"Do we know what caused this rift, Data?" Picard asked. "How do we get back
home?"
"In response to your former inquiry, Captain, it appears that the temporal
space rift is a result and/or a cause of the tremors on Driedarrel VI. When
you asked for me to activate the seismic disturbance, we inadvertently opened
up the temporal space rift."
"And we were sucked right in," Riker noted.
"Correction," Data said. "That was 'pushed right in.'
"But how do we activate it again?" Picard asked.
"Can we just fire the same frequency phasers into empty space and open it up
for us?" Geordi joined in.
"I am afraid that that is not an option, Geordi. The seismic disturbance was
the cause of the temporal space rift, not the phasers. It would be a futile
effort."
"Can we duplicate the disturbance?" Dr. Crusher asked.
"That is a possibility, Doctor," Data answered.
"Then I can get some calculations from Dr. Direidri," Beverly offered.
"Make it so," Picard commanded. "Give them to Data. Commander," he turned to
Data, "would that be enough?"
"A geographical location with a similar seismic situation would be necessary
for a productive effect."
"Are you saying," Riker asked, "that only by causing an earthquake similar
to the one that opened it up before would allow the rift to be opened again?"
"Or a similar disturbance of near or equal magnitude within an atmosphere
similar to that of Driedarrel VI," Data answered.
"Well, how are we going to do that?" Geordi asked in exasperation.
"That seems to be the question," Picard commented. "But, nevertheless, not
the only question. I asked earlier, Data, where we were. Do you have an
answer?"
Data seemed to frown, a human facial quirk he picked up from Geordi or one
of the other crew members. "I believe so, Captain. From the legends and
stories that See-Threepio relayed to me, I have pieced together a brief
summary of the galaxy as they know it. Millions of years ago there was a 'big
bang,' similar to the current belief by Starfleet scientists, that created
the universe."
"Yes, yes, Data," Picard interrupted. "I've filled the crew in on their
history. But where exactly are we?"
"When we passed through the temporal space rift we traveled through both
time and space dimensions. It is impossible to determine exactly where we are
but I hazarded a guess. We are approximately 4.5 trillion light-years away
from our Milky Way galaxy and 3 billion years before our present time
period."
"What exactly are you saying, Data?" Geordi asked.
"In a nutshell, as Commander Riker would say, we passed through the temporal
space rift and are now a long time ago in a galaxy far, far away."
There was silence in the conference lounge. Commander Riker spoke up. "I
think we should make the best of our situation. We are stuck here until Data
and Dr. Direidri discover a way to duplicate the conditions that brought us
here. Until then I suggest we do what we came here for, 'to explore strange
new worlds, to seek out new lives and new civilizationsx'"
"'xto boldly go where no one has gone before,'" Geordi finished. "Yeah,
that's a good idea."
"All right, now that that is settled," Picard announced, "Geordi, how are
the repairs coming?"
LaForge turned to face the captain exclusively. "Everything's going all
right. We've got the engines back on line but I wouldn't press more than warp
six. The shields are back to 80 percent and I've got technicians reloading
the phaser and photon torpedo banks."
"Everything seems in order," Picard remarked. "Doctor?"
Beverly Crusher replied, "We've had numerous casualties, and now the number
is seven dead. As long as we avoid any more Borg entanglements, everything
should be fine on this end."
"Mr. Worf, security status?"
Though Worf was already upright in his seat, he sat even straighter in his
chair, feeling the necessity to better his appearance before a commanding
officer. "As ordered, the six guests have been constantly monitored and none
show signs of any trouble. They are as they appear."
"Captain?" Troi's elegant voice said from his left. "There is something I'd
like to report. The young commander, Luke-I had trouble reading him earlier.
When I remarked on the bridge earlier that something was odd, it was him?"
"What is it, Deanna?" Riker asked, the concern evident in his voice.
"Well, according to Luke he has the ability to manipulate a power in the
universe known as the Force. He describes it as a type of Over-Soul."
"What is an Over-Soul?" Data inquired.
"It's an idea brought about by Emerson," Picard answered.
Data rolled his yellow eyes back and accessed his files. "Ah," he said,
"Ralph Waldo Emerson, 19th Century Earth essayist, poet, and thinker, born
1803, died 1882. In an essay entitled 'The Over-soul' he described: 'xthat
Unity, that Over-soul, within which every man's particular being is contained
and made one with all other; that common thread-'"
Picard interrupted. "That's quite enough, Data." At least he doesn't have
that prissy voice of the golden droid from the Falcon, Picard thought. He
turned to Troi. "I am impressed with your literacy, Counselor," he
complimented.
"Thank you, sir," she responded. "Anyway, he seems to be in some sort of
training to be a Jedi Knight."
"Those were the guardians that Princess Organa spoke of," Picard commented.
"What is a Jedi Knight?" Worf inquired.
Troi answered him. "It was one of the guardians, one of the protectors of
the galaxy for over a thousand generations. They use this Force to protect by
telekinesis, prophecy, great strength and agility, and healing."
"Healing?" Dr. Crusher's curiosity was piqued.
"Yes, Doctor. However, Luke says that he has just begun training and is very
inexperienced."
"According to Princess Leia Organa, the Jedi Knights were all killed,"
Picard put in.
"There are supposedly only a handful left," Data added as well, "according
to See-Threepio and Artoo-Detoo."
"What does this have to do with us, Counselor?" Picard asked.
"Well, I had trouble reading Luke because of his ability. His mind was
blocked." Picard's brow creased.
"What about this excessive strength and agility?" Worf asked.
"Well, he demonstrated his agility by dodging objects I threw at him at
random, and he was blindfolded. Supposedly the Force warns him of danger and
he can instinctively react, by either intercepting the object, or avoiding
it."
"I think the question is, Counselor, is Commander Skywalker dangerous?"
Troi paused a moment to consider. When she answered, she spoke with as much
conviction as she could considering she was relying completely on her
abilities as a counselor and not as a half-Betazoid. "No, Captain, I don't
think he's dangerous to us. But I do think he is, or can be, dangerous to his
enemies, and quite possibly himself."
"Then I suggest we keep an especially careful eye on him," Riker supplied.
"Agreed," Picard nodded. "Is there anything else?"
A communication interrupted. "Bridge to Captain Picard."
Picard answered. "Picard here."
"Sir, I think we've just spotted the Borg."
Picard frowned and felt the overwhelming sensation of deja vu.
"Executor to Station Two," the comm officer called.
An image appeared on the screen of the station's comm officer. The screen
had a lot of static so it was difficult to make out the actual identity of
the officer. "Station Two. We read you Executor. What is your position?"
"We are are coming up on you now."
The comm officer from Station Two leaned over and verified with a visual.
"Affirmative. We've got you on sensors." He breathed in sharply. "You are the
Super Star Destroyer Executor, are you not?" he asked skeptically.
"Yes, Station Two. The Super Star Destroyer," the Executor officer
confirmed.
"What happened to you?" the officer asked with his eyes wide.
"We ran into some trouble." The answer was nonchalant and quite
matter-of-factly, but it was traced with a large amount of resentment.
"I see. Uh," he paused and listened to one of the officers just off screen.
"Grand Moff Thrush wishes to speak to Lord Vader," he reported.
The Executor crewman was the one to look uncomfortable this time.
"Is there a problem?"
Trying to find a delicate way of putting it, and finding none, the comm
officer found that the direct approach was less hazardous. "We have lost
contact with Lord Vader."
The station's officer tried to hide it, but he fell back in his chair,
dumbfounded. "What happened?"
"During the fight we lost the Barricade, several fighters, and many men
including Lord Vader, Admiral Garrison, and Commander Jol." The report was
given with some pain, but it was not an official report so he neglected to
mention that Vader had reprimanded Garrison and that when he died he was on
the verge of being either stripped of command or executed.
There was silence on the station's end of the line for a bit. Finally the
comm officer said, "Moff Thrush says to pull into orbit around the station.
We'll see about repairing the ship. Who is in charge now?"
"Captain Darok."
"Fine. Moff Thrush requests that he make a formal report of the incident
before overseeing repairs."
"Affirmative, Station Two."
"Stand by for transport of crew and materials. We are ready now to initiate
the test of the station."
"We're standing by, Station Two," the Executor responded. "Executor out."
"It's gone, sir," the young ensign reported to Captain Picard. He was
standing nervously at Tactical and Worf quickly relieved him. "The sensors
picked up the Borg a minute ago and then it vanished."
"Thank you, Ensign. That will be all," Picard dismissed him. The young man
left the bridge.
Riker turned to the captain. "So they came through the rift," he said. "Do
you think that they just went back through it?"
"That would be wonderful, Number one, but we cannot assume it is so." Picard
sighed. "Lieutenant Worf, where do the sensors say the Borg appeared?"
Looking over the Tactical displays, Worf responded, "Thirty-four mark
eighteen."
"That's the limit of our sensor range," Riker stated. "Maybe they were
passing by and didn't notice us."
Picard shook his head. "No, if we spotted them, Number One, they spotted us.
Any sign of them, Mr. Worf?"
"Negative, Captain."
"All right. Ensign Carrington, let's pull back a bit, give us some more
distance between us and the Borg," Picard ordered.
"Should we go to yellow alert?" Riker asked.
Picard thought about it a moment. At length he said, "No, I don't think
there's cause for alarm just yet. I've got to figure something out so we will
remain unalarmed for the time being. Number One, I want you to keep an eye on
our visitors. I still think they hold the key to our returning home."
"Anything particular I should be looking for?" Riker inquired.
"Find out more about Princess Organa's Rebellion and this Empire. We should
figure out who all we should warn about the Borg."
"Is that all, sir?"
"And see what you think about her story."
"Aye, sir," Riker nodded.
Chapter Fifteen
Out of the Dark
The young captain elicited a lot of stares from curious crewmen as Han Solo
juggled four drinks over to the table where his friends were seated. He
smiled crookedly as he caught the eye of one of the lieutenants dressed in
gold, one of LaForge's engineering cronies-Han had learned to identify the
ship's personnel by the color of their uniforms and the number and style of
pips of their right collar. Solo sat down. "Great group of people they've got
here. I hate the way they stare at us."
"Now Han," Leia reprimanded, "they're just curious about us. And since we're
guests on their ship, would you please extend some courtesy to our hosts."
"All right," Han agreed. "But they still give me the creeps." He gazed
quickly around the room. "This place's got nice atmosphere, though."
"Better then the last cantina we were in," Luke remarked. Chewie laughed
heartily.
Han seemed hurt by the insult. "Yeah, well, they don't have as good of
music." He dispensed the drinks, one to each of them at the table. "The
bartender says this stuff is called synthenol. I don't know what it's like,
but bottoms up." Han took a swig and nearly spat it back out. After forcibly
swallowing, he gasped. "That's terrible," he spat.
"You didn't like it?" someone said from behind. The quartet turned to see
who had spoken. "Hi, my name is Guinan. I'm the hostess of Ten-Forward."
"Hi, I'm Leia," the princess greeted, offering her hand to Guinan. "That's
Chewbacca, this is Luke, and the gaging dinko over there is Han."
"Yes, we've met. Pleased to meet you all." Guinan smiled. "Perhaps I can get
you something else. A Symmerian sunset, maybe."
"No, this is quite all right," Leia said. "This is fine."
Guinan stepped closer to the table. "You're not from around here, are you?"
she asked.
"Well, no," Leia laughed. "What was your first clue?"
Again the hostess smiled. "Well, you're always welcome here. Even the
dinko."
Han frowned. "We're the ones from the Millennium Falcon."
"Oh yes, I heard something about that. It's hard to differentiate between
the rumors and the truth so I never assume anything."
"You know what they say about assumex" Han said, but he purposely allowed
his voice to trail off. Chewbacca looked at him curiously. "Forget it. It
probably loses something in the translation," Han told Chewie.
"So this is your galaxy," Guinan said with the voice of someone who was
neither impressed or repulsed.
"That remains to be seen," Luke said.
"Excuse me?"
Leia answered instead. "We are in a bit of a war at the moment."
"And we're the underdogs," Han remarked.
"We've been trying to convince Captain Picard to help us out," Leia told
Guinan.
"I see. Well, if there is anything I can do to help, all you have to do is
ask."
"You can call me Han and not dinko," Han ventured.
"I'll see what I can do." Guinan's eyes drifted and she stared off in the
distance for a moment. When she turned back she said, "I'm sorry. I've just
spotted another customer. If you will excuse mex"
"That's no problem."
"Feel free to call me if you need me."
"We will," Leia said as Guinan left to return to the counter.
Jean-Luc Picard leaned against the counter in the Ten-Forward Lounge staring
thoughtfully at the blank wall on the other side.
"You know, it's not polite to stare," Guinan said, standing next to Picard.
"Oh, Guinan," he said, realizing who she was. "What do you mean?"
"The wall. It's not polite to stare. They might have feelings too."
Picard smiled at the notion of the wall having feelings. But stranger things
had happened. His smile faded. "Guinan, what do you know about our guests?"
"I know that Luke Skywalker has the ability to use a mystical power known as
the Force, Captain Solo and Princess Leia are madly in love, and Han hates
synthenol."
Picard was taken aback. He stared at Guinan wide-eyed and straightened his
tunic. "How do you know all that?"
"I keep my eyes and ears open," Guinan replied. "You'd be surprised what I
learn down here."
"I imagine I would," Picard smirked. "But what about this Empire? They asked
me for help but I told Princess Organa that my hands are tied. The Prime
Directive prohibits us from interfering."
"And what if you have already interfered?" Guinan asked.
"What do you mean?" Picard asked again.
"Oh, unintentionally, of course. But what if you had already interfered in
their development? Could you interfere more?"
Picard shook his head.
"Hypothetically speaking," Guinan added.
Picard looked back at her. Even though he had known her for years, he still
did not know how to read what she was thinking, her expression was still a
blank slate before him. "Hypothetically speaking," he started, "we could not
cause any more intentional interference."
"Not even to right something that you caused to happen wrong?" Guinan
inquired.
"Guinan, are you getting at something?" Picard asked. She shrugged. "Very
well. We could try to correct what had happened with as little interference
as possible."
"Let's just say," the hostess began, "that a ship passed through a rift of
some sort and disrupted an area that it had no place being in, just by its
presence. Should they just pass through the rift again, leaving behind a
fractured existence? Or should they do everything that can to protect the
existence of both places?"
"They should do their best to fulfill the needs of both places," Picard
answered.
"No matter how difficult or dangerous that would be?" Guinan prodded.
Picard nodded. "I think I see what you're getting at. We passed through the
temporal space rift and you feel that we've disrupted this galaxy and should
fix anything we've disturbed." Guinan remained silent. "But Guinan, you've
got to understand that we have had minimal contact. Other than repairs to the
Millennium Falcon we have not done anything to disturb their lives."
"From what I hear, it gets a bit more complicated than that."
"What? Do you mean the Borg?"
Guinan nodded.
"If the Borg really are here, then we should stop them from disturbing this
galaxy. It is our responsibility. Is that it?" Picard shook his head in
disbelief. "The seismic disturbance on Driedarrel VI is what opened the
temporal space rift which the Borg passed through. I see what you mean. So we
try and protect this galaxy against the Borg. Commander Riker is figuring out
who to contact about the Borg threat and he will do so shortly."
"Captain, I don't mean to disturb you further, but word through the
grapevine says that this rift displaced us in time as well." Guinan's face
was solemn.
Picard frowned and hesitated before responding. "You have been keeping your
ears open."
"It's my job," she shrugged.
"Yes, according to Data we are three billion years before our present time."
"Well, it seems to me, that whatever happens here has an adverse effect on
what happens in our own time, regardless of the fact that we are light years
away."
"Then if the Borg were to assimilate this galaxy, it is quite possible that
we could drastically effect if not destroy our own galaxy," Picard reasoned.
He was starting to see the big picture that Guinan had already seen.
"Or it is also quite possible that we were meant to come back here and if we
interfere further we could be damning ourselves," she said. "It's a tough
choice."
"No," Picard disagreed, "I think we should put right what we wronged. We've
got to put a stop to the Borg threat to our existence." Picard's mind was
made up. They were going after the Borg, and if that meant helping Princess
Organa and her Rebel Alliance, then so be it."
He turned to face Guinan who was grinning broadly. "How did you figure all
this out?"
She gazed around the room to make sure that no one else was listening, then
whispered, "Well, I didn't even know about the Borg until you just mentioned
it. Some of this I pieced together, some I just know."
"But how did you come up with the idea that we had to help the princess so
quickly if you didn't know about the Borg until just now? You can't possibly
know the whole story about the Clone Wars and the Emperor."
Guinan stood up straight. "You're right, I don't know. But let me tell you a
story. Once upon a time a ship passed through a wormhole, through time.
Because it disappeared, that ship was not instrumental in bringing about
peace to the galaxy and it entered into a galaxy at war. Granted, they were
alive, but they were not supposed to be. The decision had to be made to let
the ship remain, let her crew live, and lose the war, or send them back to
their deaths to prevent the war from ever happening because that was how it
was supposed to happen. That was not an easy decision, but it was made. The
ship went back and the time line returned to normal, with limited damage."
Picard shook his head. "You never cease to amaze me, Guinan. How in the
world did you make up a story so abstract and relate it to this situation?"
Guinan smiled. "It's my job."
Behind the twosome, Will Riker entered Ten-Forward, passed by them, and
headed straight for the guests' table.
"What's Will doing here?" Picard asked, spinning his head around and
following his first officer with his eyes. "He's supposed to be monitoring
the guests and informing all parties of the Borg."
"It seems to me that he's doing his job."
Han Solo frowned. He had spotted Commander Riker when he first waltzed into
Ten-Forward and was sure right away that he was headed for them. He was
proved right as Riker stepped up to the table, standing just the right of
where Guinan had been moments ago. Han was wrong about one thing though,
Riker was not heading for them, he was heading for Leia.
"Princess Organa," Riker greeted, bowing before her once again. Han glared
as the two exchanged glances. He noticed that Luke was grinning idiotically.
That damn kid was enjoying watching him suffer.
"Is there something I can do for you, Commander?" Han interrupted.
Riker looked over at Solo. "Well, actually, I'm here to speak to the
princess."
"You can tell me just as well. I do have ears you know, and I ain't that
dumb."
"Forgive me," Riker said, putting his hands up defensively and backing away.
"I did not mean to offend you. I was merely telling Princess Organa that-"
"Leia," the princess interrupted.
"I was merely telling Leia," he corrected, "that there has been an enemy
ship sighted. I was going to warn her."
"The Empire?" Luke asked quickly. A little too quickly perhaps. He showed
too much concern and fear in his voice. His expression told that he was aware
of his mistake and reprimanding himself for it.
"No, it's one of ours. A group called the Borg. They're quite vicious. I'm
just warning you."
"Thanks for the warning," Han interrupted again.
"Any word on whether Captain Picard has agreed to help us?" Leia inquired.
Riker shook his head. "I haven't received word yet."
"What about this Borg?" Luke asked. "Are we in any danger?"
"Not yet," Riker answered. "We lost track of them. When we find them on the
sensors, then we can start to panic. Geordi's rigging up some new weapons."
"We'd be willing to offer aide to your fight," Leia piped in, putting on her
best diplomatic smile. "Even if you decide not to help us."
"We would be most grateful." Riker smiled.
"So what do we do until then?" Han asked. "Just sit tight?"
A devilish grin suddenly grew on Commander Riker's face. "Captain Solo, have
you ever played poker?"
Han grimaced. "Can't say that I have. What is it, a card game?"
"Yes, as a matter of fact. We usually have a game every few nights. How
would you like to join us?"
Chewbacca growled. Han declined his head back, indicating the Wookiee. "If
Chewie can come along."
"That's no problem. It'll be me, Chief O'Brien, Lieutenant Worf, and the two
of you. I'm afraid most of the regulars are busy preparing the ship."
"What about you? Don't you need to be on call?"
"Everything will be all right," Riker answered. "As I said, until we spot
the Borg-or the Empire-we are relatively safe."
"Chewie, is the Falcon all fixed up?" Solo asked. Chewie growled an
affirmative. "All right, we have no obligations. Hey kid," Han addressed
Luke, "you wanna play?"
Luke looked up at him. "No, that's okay. Maybe later."
"No problem. Should we follow you?"
"Sure." Riker turned back to the princess, cupped her hand in his palm and
kissed her gently on the back of the hand, bowing as he did so. "Leia," he
said. She blushed.
Han rolled his eyes. "Chewie, give me a drink." The Wookiee complied, and
handed him a glass. Solo tossed down the drink in one huge gulp.
It was synthenol.
Solo nearly choked. He spit up what was left in his mouth once he realized
what it was. He turned to Chewie, his temper flaring. Both Luke and the
Wookiee were sitting there, grinning as broad as the stars. Leia and Riker
were trying to suppress their amusement-Leia was quite unsuccessful and Riker
was equally so, but his beard hid his wide grin.
"Let's go," Han said, and he and Chewie followed Commander Riker out of
Ten-Forward.
Chapter Sixteen
Poker Face
The tattered structure of the Super Star Destroyer Executor pulled into orbit
of the battle station dubbed Death Star by both its creators and enemies. The
Empire was quite proud of its accomplishment, a mobile station with the
capability of destroying a planet with a single shot. It was a breakthrough
in warfare and imperialism, and other than the fact that the first such
station was destroyed by a Rebel brigade of snub fighters killing hundreds of
prominent Imperial executives including the renowned Grand Moff Tarkin, the
Empire reveled in its new-found abilities. The current station was just
finished with its construction and was preparing for its initial test of the
station's capabilities. Despite the small setback caused by the destruction
of the first Death Star, the Empire was rearing up for a massive retaliation
designed to stop any resistance to their galactic control. The Empire was
striking back.
Moff Thrush stood on the promenade gazing over the small moon before them.
He did not really care what the moon was called-he scarcely acknowledged that
the orb had a specific designation-so he did not even feel pity towards the
unique flying bat-like creatures indigenous to the moon. The moon was a
conquest-a small one surely, only set up to test the Death Star's armament
capabilities-but a conquest, nonetheless.
"Sir, the station is in position," came the report. Thrush smiled.
Everything was going well: the station was operational, the Empire was on the
verge of complete and utter victory, and Thrush was finally rid of the
over-bearing Darth Vader.
"Very good," Thrush replied. "Fire at will."
The weapons officer had the moon targeted and activated the first sequence
of the firing. The lever pulled back with a droning whine as though the power
were suddenly dropping. He tapped the code through in his console and the
instructions were relayed to the crewmen in the main power battery.
The many lights from the various panels surrounding the power technician
reflected on his domed helmet. When he activated the second stage in the
process of firing, his helmet suddenly glowed emerald green as the passageway
behind him lit up with the huge beam of energy targeted on the close moon.
Thrush looked out at the moon for one quick glance before it was obliterated
to become a mess of asteroids and space debris. He waited impatiently for the
explosion.
The energy beam lashed out from the Death Star and dissipated before it
reached anywhere near the moon.
The moon was still there.
Moff Thrush turned to the crewmen around him. "What happened?"
"I don't know, sir," one crewman reported.
"Energy levels have dropped, sir," said another. "We don't have enough to
fire."
"Why not?" Thrush demanded. "This station was supposed to be fully
operational. What the hell happened?"
The crewmen looked blankly at each other. They had no explanation for what
had happened. "Must be a design flaw," someone offered.
Thrush's gaze was ice-cold. "A design flaw," he repeated, his teeth clenched
and his temper seething. "We have a massive attack planned against the
Rebellion plus a new threat coming up on us that nearly destroyed our Super
Star Destroyer and now the Empire's most powerful weapon does not work. The
Emperor will not be pleased."
He closed his eyes, trying to settle his nerves. When he opened them again
he said, "I will report this to the Emperor while the lot of you find out
what's wrong with the station and fix it." He gazed out the window and, in a
furious voice, said, "And when you get this station back on line, blast that
damn moon out of the sky."
"I hope you don't mind," Riker apologized, "but I invited some of our guests
to the table this time, seeing as the others are preoccupied at the moment."
Han Solo and Chewbacca entered the small room and appeared a little nervous.
They were clearly uncomfortable fraternizing with these strangers. Worf was
eyeing Chewbacca peculiarly, seeming to stare the Wookiee down. For an
awkward moment, the two behemoths seemed to be lost in a world all their own
and both refused to back down.
"Eh, it's no problem," O'Brien said, easing the tension slightly. "Chewie's
all right with me. And if Solo's his pal, then he's a friend of mine."
Riker smiled as the tension dropped and Worf looked away from Chewbacca.
"All right, let's get this started. O'Brien, you're turn to be dealer, isn't
it?"
"Yeah, it is." The chief sat at the head of the table. "The game is five
card draw."
"I'm afraid we haven't got much in the way of money," Han regretted.
"I'll spot the two of you some chips." Riker offered then each a small pile
of colored chips. "The game goes like this: we each get five cards and bet,
you can exchange as many as you want when it's your turn, fold when you don't
have anything, or see the bet and add. Two pairs beat one, three-of-a-kind
beats that, a straight is a string of cards in any suit, full house is
two-of-a-kind plus three-of-a-kind, then there's four-of-a-kind, a straight
flush is a string in one suit, and a royal flush has the face cards in one
suit topping with the ace. Spades are high. You got it?"
Han nodded. "Yeah. It's not much different than sabacc, with the betting
anyway. The rest, well, Chewie and I will stumble along. I hope the chief
didn't stack the deck."
"I assure you, Captain Solo," O'Brien looked insulted, "the card's are
sufficiently randomized."
"Just deal, Miles," Riker said.
O'Brien dealt the cards to the small group seated around the table. "All
right," he said, "ante up."
They all tossed in a single white chip and Han and Chewie followed. Han took
a look at his hand but made no reaction. He spied that the others were
experienced poker players and refused to betray their hands with their
expressions. Except for Lieutenant Worf. If Han were reading him correctly he
was almost smiling. Inwardly, Han sighed.
"It's your bid, Captain Solo," O'Brien informed him.
Han tossed in his bid. Chewie exchanged two cards and saw the bet, adding
another chip.
"So what exactly do you do, Captain Solo?" Riker inquired.
Han was not expecting small talk, and recognized it as someone stalling for
time to think. These people were experienced with poker, but were not
experienced gamblers. Han had been gambling all his life, and not just with
games. "Currently I'm between jobs. At the moment I'm helping out Leia and
the Alliance."
"Then it's not permanent?"
"Well, for the time being it is. I've got a price on my head bigger than
this ship. One of these days I'm gonna have to do something about it. For
now, I'm content with aiding them any way I can. Are you gonna bid, or fold?"
Riker looked down at his hand. "I'll see Chewbacca's twenty and raise you
ten."
Worf saw the bet but O'Brien quickly folded. "I ain't got anything," he
said, laying his cards facedown.
Han stared into the eyes of the other players. He slowly fingered his chips
as he spoke. "What's this Starfleet that you're a part of? Some sort of
military?"
Riker answered. "It's an exploratory organization commissioned to send
people out into space to seek out new life forms and make contact."
"Seems to me like you've done just that," Han said. "A bit overachieving,
isn't it? Are you supposed to boldly go out and invite them to a game of
poker?"
A smile pursed on Riker's lips. "I see that you really 'ain't that dumb.' I
just thought I might be able to get a bit of information from you. Captain
Picard is still considering whether to help you out or not. We've heard what
Leia has to say, I want to know what you think."
"Well, I'll see you're bet and raise you twenty," Han said. "And I'll tell
you what you want to know."
"What's this Empire, exactly?" Riker asked as Chewie made his bet.
"I'm sure Leia's given you all the historical facts," Han answered. "I'm
sure I can verify them, but I won't waste your time. You want to know exactly
how bad these guys are." Riker nodded and added his bid. "The Empire has
nearly total control of our galaxy. No one wants to mess with them, the
underworlds stay out of their way and the unobtrusive worlds pray every night
that the Empire doesn't show some interest in them and get obliterated in the
middle of the night. The Alliance consists of the handful of worlds and
hundreds of lone people who are against the Empire's tyranny and have banded
together. We haven't done enough yet. In fact, we've only managed to have a
recent effect on the Empire when we destroyed the Death Star."
Worf bid and asked, "What is the Death Star?"
"It's an armored space station with the power to destroy an entire planet."
Worf refused to show his astonishment as it was unKlingon-like; nonetheless
he was astonished.
"These people are terrible, Commander," Han concluded. "This ship would help
us greatly in our fight against them, but even it could not stand up to the
Empire for long. When whole worlds are ravaged by a handful of ships,
everyone is deathly afraid to stand up against the Empire. It seems to me
that they may very well be invincible."
There was a brief silence at the table before Worf broke it. "Are you going
to bet?" he asked.
"Yeah," Han conceded. He eyed his chips. "Commander," he said, not taking
his eyes from his dwindling stack. "What is your interest in Princess Leia?"
With that last word he looked up directly into Riker's eyes. Riker did not
even flinch.
Han noticed movement in the corner of his eye as Worf squirmed in his chair,
ready to act if there were trouble. "It's all right, Lieutenant," Riker
reassured Worf. Everyone could sense the tension between Riker and Solo and
dared not move for fear that something would erupt. "To answer you're
question, Captain, I am just interested in obtaining information from her.
The rest is common hospitality."
"I don't see Captain Picard bowing before her," Han retorted.
"That," Riker said, a tad uncomfortably, "is just my way of saying hello."
"Well, just don't get any wrong impressions," Han warned. "Leia doesn't like
guys like you."
"And what kind is that?"
"A scoundrel."
"It seems to me that a scoundrel is just her type," Riker said.
Han frowned. He saw the bet and grabbed the remainder of his chips.
Worf nearly swallowed his own tongue. "I fold," he said in a brusque voice.
Han stared directly into Riker's eyes. Chewie saw the bet. "Well,
Commander," Han said in a daring voice. The game had suddenly put on new
dimensions. It was no longer a friendly game, it was a rivalry. At least by
looking at the two men staring each other down, that is what it looked like.
The bet was huge-all the money they had left-and they were each bargaining
that the other would back down.
Riker's poker face was second to known. He sat back in his chair and spoke
evenly as he glided his hands over to his chips. "I'll see you're bet,
Captain." He tossed his chips into the pot. "And let's see your hand."
"After you," Han said.
"All right," Riker conceded. "Just this once." He set his cards down.
9-10-J-Q-K of hearts.
Han set his cards down with a wry smile on his face. He had absolutely
nothing.
The room was filled with laughter from O'Brien and Riker, but Worf was
looking irritated. "He had nothing but he bet it all," he said irritably, in
disbelief. "Not even Data would have been that stupid."
Riker smirked and reached for the pot. He was stopped by a soft grunt.
Everyone turned to the Wookiee seated between Han and Riker.
"Eh, Chewie's still in the game," Han said. "What'ave you got?"
Chewbacca slapped his cards down on the table. 10-J-Q-K-A of spades.
Han fell back in his seat laughing. Riker was looking at the cards,
dumbfounded. "Well, Commander, it seems we both lost," Han said.
Riker could not help but join the laughter.
"You know, that's what I call luck," Han said. "Chewie's not really much of
a gambler. Artoo's even outwitted him at the holomonster gameboard."
Chewie growled at the mention of his losing. "It's all right," Han said and
patted him on the head.
"Another game?" O'Brien asked.
"I'm afraid Chewie and me have got to get back to Luke and Leia. Can't leave
the kid all alone. And I want to see how you two did on the repairs on the
Falcon." Han slid a small pile of Chewie's winnings over to Riker. "Here's
the money you lent us. We'll keep the rest."
The air was suddenly alive with the voice of Captain Picard. "Commander
Riker, Lieutenant Worf, please report to the bridge."
"We're on our way, sir," Riker responded. He turned to Han and Chewie.
"Sorry that we've got to run. Thanks for the game."
"No, thank you," Han said and smiled.
End of Episode Two
Chapter Seventeen
Revelations
"What are their coordinates, Data?" Picard asked as Riker, Worf, and LaForge
stepped from the turbolift to the bridge.
"The Borg are at 113 mark 8," Data replied.
"We've sighted them?" Riker asked unnecessarily.
"Yes, Number One. Data just picked them up on sensors. Mr. Worf, do we have
visual?"
Worf was now at the Tactical station. "Affirmative, Captain."
"On screen." The image of stars on the viewer was replaced by the familiar
image of the cube-shaped Borg ship in the distance.
"Then they're still here," Geordi remarked from the Engineering station at
the rear of the bridge. "So much for blind luck."
Commander Riker acknowledged Geordi's ironic statement with a dry smile, but
the situation they were in was harrowing and Riker was tense. He knew that
they were unprepared for another conflict with the Borg. They had used up all
their ideas and had barely escaped with their lives. He had told Captain Solo
that Geordi was working on some new defense plans, but in reality they had
absolutely no idea what to do. He could only hope that Captain Picard agreed
to help the Rebels and take them up on their offer to aide them. According to
what Solo had said, the Empire was a force not to be reckoned with, but the
Rebels were holding their own against them. They could be a great asset
against the Borg.
"Yellow alert," Picard ordered. The gold bars on the bridge wall panels lit
up.
"Shouldn't we go to red alert, Captain?" Riker asked.
"I'm not ready for a battle yet, Number One. But have weapons on line, Mr.
Worf."
The captain gazed at the screen and the Borg ship. Riker could sense his
discomfort. The last battle with them happened quickly and they had little
time to think. When given time to think, Picard began reliving the nightmare
of his time as Locutus. Since the Borg did not appear to be attacking, it
seemed as though he were going to have a lot of time to think.
"What's our situation, Mr. LaForge?" Picard asked.
"We have shields at 92 percent and phasers powered to maximum," Geordi
responded. "That's the best I can do. Unfortunately, I can't get the main
deflector dish trick to work again."
"That's all right," Riker soothed. "We've used it on this ship once before;
they'll have a counter for it."
The bridge was silent as they awaited Picard's orders. They knew that if
they engaged the Borg as they were, there was only a slim chance of survival.
They had used up all their tricks. Their only chance was to get help. Captain
Picard had still not made public his decision whether or not to aide the
Rebellion and Riker was afraid to bring the subject up. Besides, the
Enterprise had no way of contacting the Rebels without drawing the Borg to a
whole new cove of races to assimilate. It was looking as though a
confrontation was inevitable.
"Mr. Carrington," Picard addressed, "maintain speed to keep the Borg ship in
visual range."
"Aye, sir," she replied.
"What are we going to do, Captain?" Riker asked.
"We need to sneak past the Borg and try to find Princess Organa's
Rebellion."
"The Borg don't seem to see us. Are they just ignoring us?"
"Perhaps they have bigger fish to fry," Picard shrugged.
"Then where are they going?"
"That's a good question, Number One."
On the viewscreen the Borg ship pulled steadily away but essentially
remained in the same spot, for the navigator was compensating and keeping up
with the Borg.
"What's our current speed, Ensign?" Picard inquired.
"Warp four point six, sir."
"They're in no hurry," Worf added.
A small spherical object in the distance loomed closer on the screen.
"They're heading for that small moon," Riker said.
"That is no moon, Commander," Data said, turning around in his chair to face
Riker. "That is a space station."
"But it's too big to be a space station," Geordi said from the Engineering
post.
The bridge crew stared at the screen in amazement. Before them, looming ever
closer, was a metal sphere larger than any ship or station they had ever
encountered. It was literally the size of a planetary body. That was when
they noticed the seven or so white wedge-shaped ships orbiting the battle
station.
"I have a bad feeling about this," Geordi said.
"Ensign, full stop," Picard barked. "Go to red alert." The gold panels were
replaced by a crimson glow and the alert klaxon sounded throughout the ship.
"Mr. Worf, have Security bring our guests up to the bridge. I have something
to discuss with them."
Grand Moff Thrush was staring at the holoviewer before him but he really did
not see what was out there. His mind was elsewhere, on the condition of the
station, on what the Emperor would do if the ultimate weapon in the galaxy
turned out to be ineffective, what the Executor and Barricade could have
possibly run into that Darth Vader was killed. All these things occupied this
thoughts so he did not notice the activity on the viewer. Granted it was
quite small on the screen, but if he had been looking, he would have noticed.
"Moff Thrush," Captain Darok's voice addressed. The Executor captain was
standing directly behind Thrush.
"Yes, Captain."
"On the screen, sir," Darok indicated the holoviewer. "It's the ship that
attacked us. One of the crewmen spotted it a moment ago."
"What?" Thrush was suddenly awake as he realized what Darok had said. "Can
we get a better view?"
A moment later the holoviewer image was replaced by a close-up picture of a
massive cube. "That is what attacked you and destroyed the Barricade?" Thrush
asked.
"Yes, sir."
"But there's no damage to the ship." He turned to face Darok. "You mean to
tell me that an Imperial Super Star Destroyer cannot even damage an enemy
vessel?"
"No, sir. The ship repaired itself in a matter of seconds."
Thrush looked at Captain Darok skeptically. "That huge cube repaired itself
during a battle in mere seconds?"
"Yes, sir."
The grand moff looked at the ship on the viewer. "What kind of crew do they
have?"
"I don't know, sir. They declined to contact us except for a brief message."
"Which was?"
Darok strained to remember the exact message. "Something like, 'Resistance
is futile, you will be assimilated.'"
"Assimilated, huh?" Thrush frowned. "Well, they're coming up on us and we
still don't have the station back on line. I want you to get back to your
ship and have the other Star Destroyers channel in to me. I shall direct the
battle from here."
"Yes, sir," Darok said.
"We'll try to hold them off until we get the Death Star operational. In the
mean time, let's see how tough these people really are."
"Grand Moff Thrush," an officer said as he stepped behind Captain Darok.
"What is it?" Thrush asked.
"The Borg have sent us a message."
"Who are the Borg?"
"They are, sir," the officer said, indicating the cube on the holoviewer.
"They identified themselves in the message."
"What else does is say?" Thrush asked.
"I didn't read the rest, sir. It's addressed specifically to you."
"To me?"
"Yes, sir. To Grand Moff Thrush."
The ride in the turbolift was quite calm-the car did not noticeably move-but
the tension inside the lift was almost unbearable. "What do you suppose they
want?" Luke asked. The Security personnel on either side of them remained
silent other than to say that Captain Picard requested their presence on the
bridge.
"Maybe he's finally agreed to help us," Leia said optimistically.
"I don't know," Han said. "The impression I got from Commander Riker is that
they don't like the idea of helping out the people who are not in charge.
They get in trouble with the other governments, not the rebellions."
"I learned from Lieutenant Commander Data that in Earth's history there were
several rebellions against oppressive parties that are looked highly upon,"
Threepio added.
"Where's Earth?"Han asked.
"It's the planet that most of these people come from, including Captain
Picard and Commander Riker," Luke answered.
"So maybe they'll be reminded of their own history and act in our favor,"
Leia said.
There was a series of beeps from Artoo. Threepio translated. "Artoo suggests
that since Captain Picard's ancestry is from the section of Earth known as
France, and that the revolution staged in that country had an adverse effect
on the development and history of the entire planet, that the captain might
decline to offer aide for fear of interfering too much in our own development
and violating their Prime Directive."
"Thanks a lot, Goldenrod," Han snapped. "Let's not ask the professor next
time."
"But it was Artoo that-" Threepio tried to defend himself.
"Threepio," Luke said. "It's okay." The tone and manner of his voice told
Threepio to just forget what Han said and to drop the whole subject.
"As you wish, Master Luke."
The turbolift doors opened up and the six guests of the Enterprise, along
with their two Security escorts, exited the lift car and stepped onto the
bridge.
"What can we do for you, Captain?" Han asked. He and his friends stayed at
the rear of the bridge.
"You can start," Picard said, turning to face them, "by telling me what the
hell that is."
Everyone turned to face the viewscreen. Leia shuddered and pulled away. "Oh
no. It's a Death Star."
"A Death Star?" Riker exclaimed. "You mean the weapon that can destroy an
entire planet in one shot?"
"In one shot?" Geordi asked, his voice raising in excitement as well. "But
that would take a thousand ships with more fire power than I've ever-"
Geordi's voice trailed off and he stared at the screen. "Captain, the Borg
are stopping."
"Affirmative, Captain," Data replied. "The Borg have stopped."
"Full stop," Picard ordered. Ensign Carrington complied. Picard turned to
face his guests once again. "I would like to know everything about this Death
Star."
Han was about to say something, a wry smile on his face. "And before you say
anything," Picard butted in, "I have agreed to help you." Han closed his
mouth. "Now, please enlighten me."
"I'm sure this one is different from the last," Leia said. "The first one we
managed to steal the plans to it and analyzed it for a weakness. I don't know
what to do about this one."
"What about the station itself?" Riker asked. "What are it's capabilities?"
"You're right, it can destroy a planet with one shot. I have personally seen
it happen." Leia paused for a moment as the memories of her home planet
Alderaan being destroyed before her eyes. She swallowed her tears and
continued. "It is a mobile space station with shields and its own supply of
troops and ships."
"And those others?" Picard asked, referring to the wedged ships orbiting the
Death Star.
"Those are Imperial Star Destroyers," Han piped in. "They have deadly
capabilities, two squadrons of fighters, and an invasion force of scout
walkers. But that's only for planetside."
"You seem to know a lot about these ships," Riker said carefully.
"I was an Imperial officer for a while," Han answered.
"What about that big one?" Geordi asked.
"That's new," Leia answered. "We didn't see one until the battle yesterday
where you picked us up."
"What's that other ship, that cube?" Luke asked.
"That's the Borg," Picard answered, "a cybernetic race set on assimilating
all 'inferior' races. They are from our galaxy and our time. I have agreed to
help you because it you must be protected from the Borg's interference."
"What are you planning on doing?" Han asked.
"I'll be straight with you," Picard said, turning to face his guests. "The
Borg are very dangerous. We don't have sufficient armament to fend them off,
but we can try. I owe you all that much. This will be difficult and we may
not survive. You can return to your ship and depart, warn your Rebel Alliance
of the Borg threat, but I can't promise anything. If you leave I can try to
cover you while you escape, but I don't know if even your Alliance will be
able to stop the Borg."
Leia thought for a moment. She stared at the viewscreen and the Borg ship
approaching the Death Star. "We'll stick it out," she said at length.
"Very well," Picard said, and sat down. Behind him Han Solo looked nervous.
"Ensign Carrington, full impulse power, intercept course with the Borg."
"We're going in, sir?" Riker asked.
"I see no sense in delaying, Number One. We still may have time to convince
the Empire to aide us against the Borg."
"Course laid in, sir," Carrington reported.
"Engage."
The Enterprise pulled forward at a slow rate. The Borg ship remained
stationary, sitting peacefully in front of the Death Star.
"The Star Destroyers are moving into attack formation," Han said, noticing
the ships moving out of orbit of the station.
"They are facing us, Captain, not the Borg," Data added.
"What?" Picard said. His brow creased.
"Captain," Worf said, his voice brusque. "The Borg are hailing us."
Picard frowned. "On screen." The Death Star and the Borg ship pictured on
the screen were replaced once again by the image of the hollow halls inside
the Borg. Still that image bothered Picard as the painful memories flooded
in. The captain could feel Troi's eyes on his and suddenly his anxiety
ceased. That had never happened before. Troi's mere concern was not enough to
quiet his fears. In the corner of his eye he noticed the boy, Luke Skywalker,
with his eyes clenched in concentration. He was using the Force to quiet
Picard's concerns. That was what had happened. Troi had been right about
Skywalker, he noted. He was powerful.
Picard's attention returned to the screen. A figure stepped into view and
Picard's bionic heart froze. Leia gasped.
It was not a Borg on the screen but a tall dark figure with a menacing black
helmet and flowing robes. There was the sound of hollow breathing resounding
throughout the Borg ship.
"Darth Vader," Leia whispered in shock.
"Resistance is futile," Vader's voice boomed. "You will be destroyed."
Episode III
The Best of Both Galaxies
Visitors have arrived from another time and another place to make a
drastic change in the galaxy. With the arrival of the Borg, the Rebel
Alliance has to contend with the worst the other galaxy has to offer
because of an alliance between the Borg and Darth Vader.
Unsure of this alliance, the Galactic Empire has as much reason to fear
Darth Vader as the Rebels, and enter into a battle where no one is exactly
sure of who the players are or what side they are on.
Now Captain Picard must decide if he will help the Rebels in their
struggle, or leave them to stand their chances alone against the Empire
and the dreaded Borg to decide the fate of the galaxy....
Chapter Eighteen
Alliances
There was absolute silence on the bridge of the Enterprise for a few brief
seconds that seemed to stretch on for hours as the bridge crew and the
ship's guests stared wide-eyed at the tall dark figure on the screen. It
was Darth Vader, Dark Lord of the Sith, Dark Jedi, and emissary to the
Emperor. He was standing on board the Borg ship, reminiscent the haunting
image of Jean-Luc Picard as Locutus, a spokesperson for the Borg, a mere
year and a half ago. Picard shuddered, noting that Skywalker's mental
support was no longer with him. It was quite understandable under the
circumstances.
Picard addressed Vader. "I am Captain Jean-Luc Picard of the
Federation Starship Enterprise. I must warn you that a threat on your
part, as well as cooperation with a known enemy to the Federation, namely
the Borg, with whom you appear to be currently affiliated, will be seen as
an act aggression and will result in a retaliatory defense."
"You know, this means war," Han put in with contempt in his voice.
Vader did not to react. "Your threats do not frighten me,
Captain."
Picard made a mental note that Vader did not seem to be
controlled by the Borg, he was much too free-spoken, not mechanical like
the Borg, or Locutus--
"It seems there is some sort of misunderstanding," Picard said.
"We are not with any Alliance. You addressed us. We have no qualms with
you, only with the Borg who have pursued us and threatened to annihilate
us before. As you can see," Picard gestured to the crew with his hands,
"we are all still here."
"There is no misunderstanding, Captain," Vader was quick to
respond. "You will be destroyed." The communique was suddenly cut off.
"Captain, the Borg ship is powering its weapons," Worf barked his
report.
"All hands, battlestations!" Picard shouted. "Let's not give them
time to fire!"
The Enterprise lashed out with an antimatter spread but the Borg
ship did not retreat. It ignored the annoying fire and blasted the
Enterprise with a massive crimson beam. The ship shook and Threepio
stumbled, collapsing to the ground.
"Sir, we're not ready to face the Borg and the Empire, especially
not with that Death Star!" Riker pleaded.
Picard was quiet a moment. "Yes, you're right. Mr. Carrington,
full reverse. Let's get the hell out of here!"
The Enterprise turned around as the Borg ship and a few of the
Star Destroyers fired on her. With the Millennium Falcon still in its
tractor beam, the Enterprise shields were not as strong as they could have
been, and the Borg shots pounded against the hull of the two ships.
"Engage!" Picard shouted and the two ships pulled away at warp speed.
"Track that ship!" Thrush ordered as he watched the strange vessel
disappear. He did not know exactly what was happening. All he knew was
that moments ago Darth Vader, whom he had assumed to be dead, appeared on
the holoscreen telling him that he had made an alliance with a group
called the Borg and that the incoming ship was one of the Rebels. Thrush
ordered the Star Destroyers to attack the ship at once and a moment after
the battle had begun, it was over.
"There is no need, Grand Moff Thrush," a voice said. Thrush turned
to see the Dark Lord on the holoscreen once again.
"Lord Vader," he addressed.
"They cannot go far. The Borg are studying their retreat. When we
need to find them, we will. Until then, I suggest we regroup. The Emperor
wants an end to the troublesome Rebellion, and we are within range of
completing that task."
"I don't understand," Thrush complained.
"That is no matter. Your understanding is not vital to this plan
succeeding. I trust the Death Star is operational as planned."
Thrush suddenly looked pale, even on the holoscreen. "Uh," he
stammered. "Well, there seems to be some problems. But the Emperor is
fully aware of them, I assure you," he quickly mended.
"Then the repairs shall be made immediately," Vader ordered. "I
will not have the Emperor's victory slipped from his grasp because of
negligence. Understood."
It was not a question.
Thrush nodded. "Yes, my lord. What about the, uh, Borg, sir?"
"They are aiding us in our assault," Vader answered.
"How well can we trust them?"
"I am in complete control of them, Moff Thrush. You have no need
to worry."
"Yes, sir. Also, there was significant damage done to your
flagship, my lord. Captain Darok reports that they were under attack by
the--" he paused a moment "--Borg."
"That is true, but they are our enemies no longer. I assure you
once again, they are completely in my control. Do not question my judgment
again." Vader's voice was threatening but absolutely calm. It caused
Thrush to shudder.
"As you wish, my lord."
"Complete repairs to the station and have it operational
immediately. I will tolerate no more delays." The holoscreen shut off but
Darth Vader's deep resounding voice echoed long after the image was gone.
"We have a bit of a problem here," Han said.
"That is the understatement of the century," Riker retorted.
"Mine or yours?"
"Captain Solo is correct, we do indeed have a problem here,"
Picard interrupted. "Seeing as the Borg have somehow sided with the
Empire, I see that we have no choice but to aide you, Your Highness, in
your struggle. I feel that we are partly responsible for the Borg's
presence in your galaxy and time, and in an effort to maintain the
delicate balance of time and the existence of your galaxy, I formally
offer our support to your cause."
Leia smiled broadly. "Thank you, Captain." It would be most
beneficial to have the Enterprise on the side of the Rebellion, she knew.
But with their alliance with the Borg, the Empire had made the battle for
survival much more complicated. Leia was no longer sure of a quick
victory. It seemed that even the mighty Federation could not help the
Rebellion defeat the Empire.
"But what exactly are you gonna do?" Han wanted to know.
Everyone was silent. The Conference Lounge was usually vibrant
with discussions on how to go about business, but there was only tension
between the Enterprise senior officers and the crew of the Millennium
Falcon all seated around the oak table.
"I don't know, Captain," Geordi said. "I'm fresh out of ideas.
There's just not anything that the Borg haven't already seen and
countered."
"Maybe we can help?" Luke offered.
"You have an idea?" Riker asked, sitting up forward.
"Sure. We can call for the Alliance. With enough ships, we might
be able to do something about the Borg. All we need is to find their
weakness."
"Thus lies the problem," Riker said.
"Calling for assistance might serve our purpose," Data
interjected.
"Explain, Data," Picard prompted.
"Sufficient backup could prove helpful in alienating the Star
Destroyers. Do you know the current whereabouts of the Alliance?"
Han shook his head before anyone else could respond, even though
he knew no one would divulge the whereabouts of the AllianceUs base. "No,
but Leia knows."
"But even then, can we stop the Borg?" Riker asked, hating to
play devilUs advocate.
Dr. Crusher entered the conversation. "What about 'sleep?'"
"What's that?" Han asked.
"'Sleep' is the command we initiated into the Borg consciousness
when Captain Picard was serving, against his will, as the Borg Locutus,"
Data answered. Everyone had been careful not to mention Picard's time with
the Borg to the guests. The crew all knew this was the first encounter
since that dreadful experience and were still not sure how the captain
would react. Data, being an android, was oblivious to the deep emotional
feelings Picard was experiencing.
Troi tried to reach out with her mind to see how Picard was
handling the situation. To her surprise he seemed calm, relaxed, even
tranquil. Then she caught his eye, looking over at Luke Skywalker.
Suddenly she understood. Skywalker had been using the Force to relax
PicardUs mental anguish and for a moment she was able to feel inside of
the young Jedi apprenticeUs mind and really see him for the first time.
"So what does this 'sleep' command entail?" Han asked, breaking
everyone out of their concerned reveries.
"Well," Geordi spoke, attempting to explain, "we have to link up
with the Borg collective and implant the message to sleep. The Borg, as a
whole, receive and execute the command. There is then a power feedback
that destroys the Borg ship. Unfortunately, we need a link up with the
Borg. Then unless any of you want to volunteer to be a Borg--"
"Couldn't the computer link up?" Luke asked.
"Yes," Data responded, "but I am the only 'portable outlet'
available. Because there is no guarantee that I would be myself when I
return and we do not have the facilities to monitor my 'being' through the
Borg collective, we have constituted that it is not a viable option."
"But we have another outlet," Luke said. "Artoo."
Everyone in the room turned to look at the squat astromech droid.
Artoo bleeped with assurance.
"You mean hook Shortstuff up and have him talk to the collective?"
Han asked. "Wouldn't there be the same problems?"
"Artoo has a strong," Luke paused to find the right word,
"personality. We could have Threepio monitor him. If it's okay with
Artoo." Again the droid bleeped.
"All right, but we've got to get him plugged in," Geordi said.
"Number One," Picard said, "organize an away team."
"All right. Worf, Data, you're with me.. Artoo I need for the
transference. Anyone else?"
"I'd like to go along," Luke said. "You'll need me with Artoo. I'm
the only one who could possibly handle him."
Worf grumbled.
"I don't know," Riker said, skeptically. He was questioning the
experience of someone so young.
He's not so young, Will, a voice said in his mind. You were just
as adventurous at his age. Trust him, Imzadi. Let the boy go.
RAll right, you can come along,S Riker conceded.
"If you don't mind," Luke said, "I'd like my lightsaber back."
"Lightsaber?" Worf asked.
"The weapon you confiscated," Luke answered.
Grudgingly Worf nodded.
"Well, letUs get a message off to your Alliance," Picard said,
breaking the tension in the room. "Princess Organa, if you'd be so kind as
to provide a message, Commander Data and Commander LaForge will aide you
in sending it in a probe."
"I'd like Threepio to code it, if you don't mind, Captain," Leia
responded.
"Not at all," he said, smiling. "Make it so." He looked around the
room at all the strange and familiar faces thrust into this horrific
situation and could not help feeling that things would never be this way
again. "Dismissed."
As the people filed out of the conference room, Picard motioned to
Riker, Worf, and Troi to him. Picard watched them as the last of the
others left and in a hushed tone asked the trio, "What do you think about
Commander Skywalker?"
"What do you mean, sir?" Riker asked.
"I mean, do you trust him? Is he going to create a problem with
this assignment?"
"I don't think so, sir," Riker responded.
"Mr. Worf?"
The Klingon hesitated a moment, working his jaw as he
contemplated. "I don't think he'll pose a problem, sir."
"And Counselor?"
Troi did not even hesitate. "I unequivocally trust him," she said.
"He is of noble character and has perhaps more at stake than we do. As I
read him, he may be a valuable asset to our mission."
"And what about Captain Solo?"
Riker spoke. "Hes a bit of a loose cannon. I recommend we still
keep an eye on him. He may unintentionally screw things up."
They all nodded. "Agreed," Picard said. "Thank you, all. You're
dismissed."
Chapter Nineteen
They Also Serve Who Only Stand and Wait
"So what you are saying, is that there are many such beings as you who
serve as slaves and servants to oppressive beings," Data reiterated.
"Well, if you were to put it that way..." Threepio said. "Really,
it is not that bad. Our current master, Master Luke, is very kind."
Data did his best impression of a grimace. "I do not understand
how you can be content with servitude."
Geordi, who had remained silent during the droidsU discussion,
finally butted in. "Data, my people were oppressed for centuries on Earth,
forced into slavery and mistreated."
"I know Earth's history through the ship's archives, Geordi."
"Yes, but there is a lot of information not on record. When we
emancipated through time and common law decreed that we were all equal on
Earth, not everyone wanted to break the mold that was already there."
"I do not understand."
"Data, some people were happy with slavery and could not see why
people were fighting over them. That was their life, as ours is on the
Enterprise, as the droids' is as servants, and they did not want their
world turned upside down."
"I see. Thank you for the insight, Geordi." Data looked forward
and, like a child, was the next moment completely uninterested in the
conversation. Artoo bleeped warily from behind as the quartet arrived at
Engineering.
"Well, let's get to work," Geordi said. "I'll rig up a program and
place it into Artoo here. Data, you familiarize the little guy with the
specks of the Borg ship and give him a lesson in Borg technology." The
squat droid whistled. Geordi broke away to a console.
"What, may I ask, do you wish me to do, Commander LaForge?"
Threepio asked.
Geordi decided it was best not to tell the droid that Captain
Picard wanted Threepio out of his so-called hair and with Data, the only
crew member of either the Enterprise or the Millennium Falcon, besides
Artoo-Detoo, that could stand to be around Threepio. Instead, Geordi said,
"I want you to act as liaison with Artoo and Data. YouUre the essential
piece to this whole scheme working. Better not let us down."
"Oh sir, I guarantee that nothing will go wrong," Threepio said
with a hint of swelled pride.
Data peered over at Geordi, trying to figure out why the engineer
had lied to the droid about his pivotal role in the plan. He decided
against making comment about it and resigned himself to inquiring about it
later with Geordi in private.
"Here is all the information we currently have on the Borg," Data
told the gold droid. Threepio peered at the console and attempted to
decipher what the designs said.
Artoo bleeped. "What is it, Artoo?" Threepio asked. The squat
droid beeped in response. "No, I cannot tell what it says. It looks like a
lot of gibberish to me. Assimilated humans into cyborgs. Who ever heard of
such rubbish." Artoo bleeped again. Threepio was clearly offended by what
Artoo said. "Oh, really. You think you could understand this information
when even I could not? That's fine with me, Artoo. But don't come
complaining to me when you can't tell an alluvial damper from an ion
particle deflector of a hyperdrive unit."
Artoo bleeped once again, with a bit of haughtiness.
"Of course I know that an alluvial damper is an ion particle
deflector of a hyperdrive unit," Threepio said, annoyed. "I was merely
saying that when you're through looking at the Borg information you won't
be able to tell the difference between one and the other. I told you it
doesn't make sense. Useless scrap pile. I should have left you with those
horrible Jawas on Tatooine."
In the corner, trying to mind his own business, Geordi sighed. "If
those droids aren't careful, they might be dangerous," he remarked to no
one in particular.
The air on the bridge of the Executor began to shimmer and four dark
figures formed from the glitter. There was a collective gasp on the bridge
as the forms took shape and the crew recognized them. Recognition did not
quell the feelings of awe, however.
"Lord Vader," Darok addressed the Dark Lord, not making an effort
to disguise the surprise on his voice. "I was not expecting you here."
"I serve no need on the Borg ship," Vader answered. "I have come
to incite you to hurry repairs to my flagship."
"Of course, my lord.S He forced himself to swallow. RAnd these are
the Borg," Darok said uneasily, referring to the three cyborg figures
standing behind Vader. There were blank expressions on their pale white
faces which created a haunting feeling throughout the bridge. Darok could
not help but stare at the creatures, if one could call them that. The Borg
were humanoid but were affixed with devices and metallic appendages. They
were unmistakably evil, even to the Empire's standards. And yet something
was familiar...
Thrush shuddered. The face, it was General Firell! Firell was one
of the Borg!
"Yes, Captain Darok, these are the Borg. Do not be afraid of them,
they are completely under my control."
"I don't doubt it, Lord Vader," Darok said nervously. RI have
complete faith in your Jedi abilities."
"Good. Then I see you will complete repairs as I have ordered."
Darok had been staring at the Borg soldiers since they appeared on
the Executor's bridge, but he turned and made eye contact with Vader at
the last statement. "Yes, Lord Vader. It shall be done."
The shuttle bay was filled with Starfleet personnel preparing the shuttle
craft Asimov while officers saw the diplomatic expedition off.
"I don't like the idea of you going out without an escort," Han
told Leia.
"I don't believe you have a choice, Captain. I am completely
capable of taking care of myself, and Chief O'Brien and Ensign Tellamuck
will be protection enough."
"I still donUt like it," Han muttered.
"It is really none of your concern."
"Leia, I have to agree with Han," Luke interrupted.
Leia smiled. "Really, you two. I will be all right."
"If you would like, we could cover you against the Borg and the
Star Destroyers," Picard said.
"Captain, I really don't think that the Empire will think a small
shuttlecraft will be a threat," Leia said with evident arrogance. "At most
they'd send a few fighters after us. If you'd like, you can take care of
those for us."
Picard said, "I'll try my best."
"We'll rendez-vous back at Tradic and group together," Han said.
"Remember, Princess Organa," Picard stressed, "the success of this
mission relies on you."
"I am fully aware of that, Captain. You have no need to remind me
of the gravity of our situation."
Picard nodded. "Farewell, and good luck."
"See you back at Tradic," Luke called to Leia as O'Brien escorted
her though the shuttle craft hatch. She did not respond.
As the shuttle prepped its engines and pulled out of the shuttle
bay, Worf remarked to himself, RWonderful girl."
Han looked up at him and said sarcastically, RYouUre telling me."
Riker approached Picard. RCaptain, may I have a word with you?"
Picard looked at the serious expression on Riker's face. "Of
course, Number One. LetUs go to my ready room."
Vader's piercing gaze was unrelenting. "What do you wish to speak to me
about?"
Thrush shuttered slightly and his response was stammered. "Your
ship is fully repaired, my lord. At least as fully repaired as it can be.
We'll need to return to the shipyards to fit some of the repairs, but our
shields are restored to full power."
"And what about fighter capability?"
"We've transferred two squadrons from the Death Star to the
Executor."
"Very good, Captain Darok. We shall remain in orbit until the
Death Star has been repaired. Is there any report as to their progress?"
"No, my lord."
"Very well."
"Lord Vader, if I may ask, what can we hope to accomplish by
allying ourselves with the Borg? Surely we do not wish to ally ourselves
with these...lower life."
Vader edged slightly towards Darok. "Captain, this alliance is
only a temporary situation. I find it preferable to utilize their
resources against this new foe. After we have succeeded, we will strip the
Borg of their technology and disregard them."
"But, my lord, the Borg are Imperial soldiers. I spotted General
Firell among them. The Borg are inhuman."
"The Borg do not concern me, Captain. Only the completion of the
Death Star and the annihilation of the Rebels and the starship matter. I
trust that that only concerns you as well."
"Watch yourself, Number One," Picard cautioned Riker as the first officer
stepped through the shuttle hatch. Data, Worf, Security Officer Blake,
Luke, and Artoo were already waiting near the shuttle. "We don't know what
kind of influence Darth Vader has had on the Borg."
"You need not worry, Captain," Riker responded. Data and Worf past
him as they entered the shuttle.
"Beam over, hook up Artoo to the Borg net and be back as quickly
as you can," Picard said.
"We will. With Worf and Data along, it shouldn't be difficult. At
any rate, we'll have Ensign Blake in the shuttle while we're aboard the
Borg vessel. If there are any problems weUll have him beam us back over
and we'll come straight back."
"We could have Han escort us in the Falcon," Luke offered.
"No," Picard said. "I don't want to endanger anyone else. We'll
just keep an open channel with the shuttle. Good luck all of you."
"May the Force be with you, Captain," Luke said.
Picard grimaced. The situation was not ideal for his taste, but he
could not see any other options currently open to them. "Yes, may the
Force be with you."
Chapter Twenty
Diplomatic Immunity
"Your highness," O'Brien said with false calm. Leia was jerked awake. Only
it was not O'Brien jarring her, nor was it Ensign Tellamuck. It was laser
fire rocking the ship.
"What is it?" she asked. She was immediately awake and taking
charge.
"I don't know. It's your galaxy."
Nearly a dozen diamond-shaped fighters lashed out at the shuttle
craft. Their maneuvers were well-crafted and extremely alien to O'Brien as
he was unable to make tactical maneuvers to compensate for the attackers'
onslaught.
"They're Karns," Leia said quietly.
"What the hell's that supposed to mean?" O'Brien retorted. "Should
I get out and bow?"
"They're great fighter pilots. Many Alliance and Imperial tactics
have come from their flight patterns."
The phasers locked onto a fighter and swiftly obliterated it.
"Whose side are they on?" O'Brien asked.
"Neither," she said. "I'd suggest you initiate evasive maneuvers."
"Evasive maneuvers? No disrespect, Your Highness, but I haven't
analyzed their attack and I haven't the bloodiest idea of what to do."
"Veer left!"
The shuttle jerked as the lasers flashed across the shuttleUs
shields. "Shields at 12 percent."
"They're coming in from the right!" Leia shouted. "Get out of
here!"
"This isn't a fighter, Your Highness, it's a shuttle.
Maneuverability ain't one of its strong points. I'll see what I can do,
you contact the Enterprise and tell them we've run into some trouble."
"Shuttle craft to Enterprise, this is Leia. We're under attack
from a squadron of Karns. They out number us and theyUre out-maneuvering
us."
"Shields have failed. One more hit and weUre done for! I'm taking
her down."
"Where?"
"There, that planet to the right."
"Without shields, will we make it through re-entry?"
"I don't know. Hold tight."
"Enterprise, we're going down. Mayday. Mayday."
"Just hold tight, I'll see what I can do to bring her down without
killing us all," O'Brien said, the strain evident in his voice.
The atmosphere scorched the hull of the shuttle as fire spit from
the Karn fighters. Phasers from the shuttle fired and blasted a Karn
fighter and they retaliated. There was a violent explosion outside the
ship that jarred the craft slightly. "What happened?" Leia asked.
"The port-side thruster blew," O'Brien said, frantically trying to
maintain control of the ship in its descent.
"There," Tellamuck pointed. "There's a soft marsh. Let's see if we
can land there."
"But this is a mountainous region," Leia said to herself. "There
shouldn't be any marshes."
O'Brien directed the shuttle towards the marsh in order to soften
the impact. Suddenly the marshes began moving. "Pull up!" Leia shouted.
"What is it?" O'Brien asked, still concentrating on piloting the
shuttle.
"That's no marsh. Pull up!"
Then O'Brien saw it; it was a huge creature covered with wetted
moss and growth. It rolled over so that its maw was exposed and open to
receive the descending shuttle. O'Brien did his best to veer the shuttle
up but with only one engine it was a lopsided turn and the side of the
craft struck the beast in the head. The shuttle spun out of control. The
three crew members were tossed around inside the shuttle and no one was
able to keep at the controls. The shuttlecraft smashed into a rock bed,
throwing Leia against a wall and O'Brien and Tellamuck to the floor.
The Death Star looked huge, even from the distance the shuttle Occam was
from it. Luke felt the slight tinge of fear and awe he felt when he
encountered the first Death Star not too many months ago in his X-wing.
But he quickly suppressed the feeling with the Force. He longed for his
fighter, preferring it over the cumbersome shuttle in a dogfight. Artoo
nudged closer to Luke. The droid did not have to say anything, Luke was
thinking the same thing. Han Solo's words echoed in his mind. "'Didn't we
just leave this party?'" Luke quoted. Artoo whistled an agreeing sigh.
It was not the Death Star they were heading towards, however. It
was the cubical Borg ship. Luke felt a similar fear as the one he just
experienced, but in Riker this time. Luke did his best to sooth Riker's
tumultuous feelings. Everyone in the shuttle had lost friends and comrades
against these two enemies. Confronting them again brought out a lot of
emotion.
"Approaching the Borg ship," Data reported.
"Are their shields up?" Riker asked.
After a pause to look at his instruments, Data responded, "No,
sir. It appears that they do not see us as a threat."
"Let's hope that's not a momentary situation," Riker said. "What
do you think, kid?" he asked Luke.
"Vader would probably think that a few fighters could take us.
WeUre not dangerous enough to send the heavy stuff at us."
"Commander," Worf interrupted. "Sensors indicate six vessels
approaching."
"Identify," Riker said.
"It's the Empire."
"TIE fighters!" Luke exclaimed.
"They do match the description of the twin ion engine starfighters
See-Threepio and Artoo-Detoo described to me," Data said unnecessarily.
"Occam to Picard," Riker addressed over the communications line.
RDo you read this?"
"Loud and clear, Number One," Picard responded. "Long-range
sensors do not show any more fighters. That's all they're sending after
you."
"TIE fighters approaching, sir," Worf reported.
"Give them a little chance, Data," Riker said. RWeUve got to put
on a show. If we get them too quickly, they might send out the bigger fish
to eat the little fish."
"I'd be careful," Luke warned.
"We'll be fine," Riker assured. "We've got shields, and from what
you guys say, they don't."
Luke was not assured.
The six TIEs came in with a frontal attack. On the first pass two
concentrated fire on the front of the ship while the other two pair
flanked either side of the shuttle and fired. The shuttle rocked with the
impact of the laser shots. Worf retaliated with a quick succession of
shots. He purposely missed all of the fighters but one passing on the
right of the shuttle. The fighter exploded. The Occam continued its path
toward the Borg ship. The TIEs circled around for another pass.
"They're coming around for another pass," Luke said.
Riker leaned over next to WorfUs ear. "Worf, go for the left
squad."
"Why not the lone fighter?" Luke asked.
"Because that would be too easy. I want to make them think we
don't have any tactical knowledge. Data, fly as though they've been
causing us damage."
Data brought the shuttle in a veering path, rocking the ship from
side to side to simulate damage to the shipUs navigational systems. This
time Worf fired at one of the TIE fighters on the left, concentrating his
fire. The ship erupted in flames.
Quickly the TIE fighters broke formation and regrouped, attacking
from all sides--left, right, back, top, and bottom--except from the front.
The pilots assumed Data would not be able to see them. Laser fire pummeled
the shuttleUs shields. "They're all around us!" Luke exclaimed.
Picard watched the viewscreen as the four TIE fighters converged on the
shuttlecraft. He could understand RikerUs reasoning in not firing on the
fighters himself, that the Empire would then consider the Enterprise a
threat, but Picard was still not happy with the situation. The Empire was
so far ignoring the Enterprise, seemingly thinking they were afraid of the
Empire's might. But they would probably figure on a shuttle team to
infiltrate the Death Star to find another weakness in its design, as
Princess Leia reported they had done once before. Again, in their
arrogance, the Empire would not consider a small shuttecraft a threat. In
the meantime, they are waiting to strike. Waiting for what, Picard did not
know. That was what was unnerving him.
"Shuttlecraft's shields weakening," Ensign Carrington reported.
"Why aren't they firing?" Han said, irritated.
"Have patience, Captain Solo," Picard said with a calmness he did
not actually feel.
"Prepare photon torpedo, Mr. Dominquez," Picard ordered. "Set
transporter coordinates one-three-two-mark-four-one-eight. Commander
Riker, keep your channel open. When the fighters make another pass,
execute on my mark."
"What's going on, Captain?" Han insisted. "You arenUt going to let
them get blasted by the Empire while we just sit here."
"I'm afraid, Captain Solo, you are just going to have to trust
me," Picard said and forced a tinge of a smile. Solo only frowned.
Picard became intensely serious again as he saw the fighters make
another pass. Their laser fire lashed out against the shuttle's shields.
Picard raised his hand, ready to signal, watching carefully for the
correct moment. "Ready," he started.
The shuttle rocked under the impact of the blasts.
"Shuttle's shields failing," Carrington reported.
The four TIE fighters made a cross pattern, unleashing the death
blows to the ailing shuttle as Picard shouted, "Now!" and dropped his hand
as a signal.
The explosion rocked the TIE fighters as they veered away from the
projecting debris. A brilliant light flashed and a cloud of fire was where
the shuttle was a moment before.
"What happened?" Han shouted. He could not believe he just saw his
friend Luke Skywalker shot down by TIE fighters without even a chance to
fight. "Picard, what happened!"
Picard turned to face Han, and before he could say anything,
Dominguez spoke up. "Captain, subspace transmission."
"On screen."
"Captain." It was Riker. He was standing behind Worf and Data on
the shuttlecraft, with Luke and Artoo visible in the background.
REverything worked out fine. The Imperial fighters disengaged."
"And where are you now?" Picard asked.
"We're coming up on the Borg ship. They still don't appear to
notice us, or are ignoring us."
"If what we think is true, that Darth Vader controls the Borg
completely, then if Vader does not see us, the Borg will not see us."
"What did you just do?" Han asked.
"Well," Picard started to explain, "we figured that the Empire
would not consider a single shuttlecraft a threat and would send only
small fighters against it. So Worf purposely avoided shooting down the
ships to appear that we were not really dangerous. To keep them from
bothering the Away Team, we rigged the transporter to beam over a photon
torpedo on self-destruct at the coordinates of the shuttlecraft."
"And we pulled away at maximum warp over to the Borg ship," Riker
added. "And the TIE fighters thought that the explosion was the shuttle.
Now they won't bother us."
"You're forgetting one thing, boys," Han said. "Vader is not
stupid. He'll catch on to your scheme. If I were you, I'd get on and off
that Borg ship and back here as fast as possible. If you eliminate the
Borg, Vader will soon find out, and you'll have a battle on your hands."
Leia slowly awoke and tried to focus her eyes. She remembered being in the
Millennium Falcon, no, she had been elsewhere since. She was on board the
Enterprise, then one of its shuttles, going to get the Alliance. ThereUs a
new Death Star, things were beginning to come back to her. She found her
arms underneath her and strained to push herself up but pain pounded into
the side of her head and she dropped back onto the floor. Leia moaned in
pain and struggled to open her eyes. There were two other crewmen on board
the shuttle. What condition were they in? She opened her yes and saw an
upright foot. Good, they were up. Only it had three toes with huge claws
on each.
She tried to sit up again, but the movement made her woozy and she
collapsed and blacked out.
Chapter Twenty-One
High Noon
"All stop," Riker ordered. The shuttlecraft Asimov pulled itself to a
complete stop behind the Borg ship, away from the view of the Empire or
the Enterprise. "Mister Data, scan the Borg ship for signs of life."
After a moment, Data responded. "Faint signs of life, Commander. I
presume they are the Borg."
"Anything stronger?"
"Negative, Commander."
"Good. That means there are no Imperials over there. I don't want
to have to deal with them." Riker stood. "Data, you and Worf take the
droid over to the ship and hook him up."
Luke stood, anxious to get over to the Borg ship. RKid,S Riker
said to Luke, "you and I will stay here along with Ensign Blake."
"But what about Artoo? You need me to talk to him."
"I think Data can handle that. Right?" Data solemnly nodded.
There was a look of dejection in Luke's eyes. He sat back down.
"All right," Riker started. "Each of you strap these on." Riker
handed Worf and Data three transporter initiators to strap on their arms.
RPhasers on kill. Past experience says that they won't bother you while
youUre over there. But if they do, you'll only get one shot in."
Data bent down and strapped the transporter initiator onto ArtooUs
leg joint.
"Are you ready?"
"Yes, Commander, we are ready," Worf responded.
"Okay, good luck. In and out as fast as you can. Nothing fancy.
IUll be in contact with you all the way. If the Borg wake up, we'll get
you out."
Data, Worf, and Artoo clumped together. "Engage," Riker ordered
and they disappeared in the transporter.
A moment later the android's voice came through over the
communicator. "Data to Commander Riker. We are on the Borg ship. As we
presumed, the Borg appear to be ignoring us."
"How many of them are there?" Riker asked.
"Based on the size of the previous Borg ships we have encountered,
I would estimate 40,000 Borg are on board this vessel. However, there is
no accurate way of knowing."
"Let's not wake them," Luke said.
"In fact, Commander Skywalker, we plan doing just the opposite,"
Data said.
"Can you find a terminal?" Riker interrupted.
"We will attempt to locate a terminal," Data replied.
"Well, make it quick, Commander," Riker said.
"I've found a terminal, Commander," Worf's voice said over the
intercom.
There was silence for a few seconds and Riker and Luke exchanged
worried glances. Finally, at length, Riker said, "Data, report."
It took a second for Data to respond. "We are accessing the droid
unit to the console. The connections will not be as precise as possible:
however, I will make modifications to the droid in order to make the
connections."
"It's best to do that then tamper with the Borg themselves," Riker
said.
Artoo bleeped, obviously not agreeing with Riker that tampering
with him was the best solution.
"Connections are complete," Data reported. "It will be
approximately two minutes thirty-four point seventeen seconds before
Artoo-Detoo will have access to the command center of the Borg
collective."
"Well hurry up, short stuff," Riker admonished. "We can't wait
around too long. The Borg are bound to detect us with you poking around
inside of them. And when the Borg find out..."
"Ithe Empire will find out," Luke finished.
Riker nodded gravely. "The 'sleep' mode will initiate a self
destruct in a feedback loop in only a few seconds. I'd really prefer that
we were away from the shockwave and underneath the Enterprise's shields
when that happens."
"Commander," Worf said to Data. "Someone is approaching." The Klingon was
reading his tricorder and drew his weapon.
Data stood upright from kneeling next to Artoo-Detoo. He pulled
out his own tricorder and checked the readings. "Data to Commander Riker,"
Data said, tapping his comm badge. "Mr. Worf registers five life sources
approaching in our direction."
"How far away are they, Data?" Riker asked.
"Approximately 32.45 meters."
"Life signs?"
"Faint, Commander. I believe they are the Borg."
"Maintain radio silence but keep an open channel," Riker ordered.
"The Borg must be coming to find out what's poking around in their system.
Have the droid keep at it. I want you to take as best refuge as you can
find, but we need that droid hooked up. Chances are they'll ignore you.
Just in case, I want you ready for action. We'll beam you back if need be,
but we donUt have many other options. This may be our only chance to get
at the Borg."
"Understood, Commander," Data responded. "Data out."
Worf was already pressing his body against the wall of the
corridor, losing himself in tubes and mechanical outlets marking the
surface. It was a futile effort for more than likely the Borg were
already aware of their presence. The wall would provide cover from the
BorgUs fire, if a fight broke out, however. Data hid likewise.
Unfortunately, Artoo could not be covered. The outlet was situation too
far away from any cover and the droid was out in the open, unprotected. If
the droid were to move, there would be no way he could reach the outlet.
Artoo bleeped his concern of his visibility.
Worf eyed his tricorder. Twenty-seven meters coming straight
ahead. He resolved to put the device away and concentrate on finding the
enemy with his own senses. Data, on the other hand, maintained his
analysis of the readings on the tricorder. Worf could count on Data
warning them when they were near if Worf were unable to detect them.
No, Worf could sense them. The hairs on the back of his neck
perked up. He could feel the seemingly insignificant changes in the air
and in the force of the wind on his face. The scent of flesh was vaguely
present, immersed heavily in the confusing odor of metals. There was the
faint sound of pounding metal in the distance. Worf could sense the Borg
were nearby. Twenty meters at most.
He glanced over at Data. The android drew his phaser, his eyes
still fixed to the tricorder. Worf looked down at Artoo. The two and a
half minutes were not nearly up. They would have to initiate the Borg
before the droid could gain access to the collective.
The clanging of metal footstep on metal was clear now, nearly
deafening. The droid beeped; he was nervous. Obviously Artoo had been
monitoring the Borg's approach as well. Worf shot the droid an icy glare.
They did not need Artoo alerting their presence any more then he already
had.
Worf spotted movement across the paneling. Data slipped the
tricorder in his pouch and readied for a confrontation. Worf could feel
his adrenaline building. He suddenly wished he had more to fight with than
a phaser. He sighted the Borg working the maze toward their position. Worf
gripped his phaser, checking it once more to see that it was on the
highest setting. As the monstrous machines turned the corner, Artoo
whined, and a devilish grin spread on Worf's face.
"Sir," Ensign Dominguez, positioned at the tactical station where she had
replaced Worf, interrupted the tension throughout the Enterprise bridge.
"We're receiving a sub-space transmission from the Asimov."
"On screen," Picard said, concern creasing his forehead. Han and
Troi turned to the viewscreen and watched as well.
A grainy image appeared on the screen of Leia struggling to
maintain her balance in order to deliver the distress call.
"'Shuttlecraft to Enterprise, this is Leia. We're under attack
from a squadron of Karns. They out number us and theyUre out-maneuvering
us.'"
Chief O'Brien struggled with the controls. "'Shields have
failed. One more hit and weUre done for! I'm taking her down.'"
Leia turned away from the screen to address O'Brien. "'Where?'"
"'There, that planet to the right.'"
"'Without shields, will we make it through re-entry?'"
"'I don't know. Hold tight.'"
"'Enterprise, we're going down. Mayday. Mayd--'"
"There the message ends, sir," Dominguez reported.
"What are we going to do, Captain?" Han inquired.
Picard was silent a moment before answering. "I'll send another
shuttle after them."
"A shuttle?" Han retorted. "You heard what happened to them. They
wonUt stand a chance against those fighters. And you've already gotten rid
of two of them."
"There is no alternative. We are in the middle of a situation
here. I have an away team on board the Borg ship. I cannot afford to take
the Enterprise back to rescue the Asimov. A shuttle is all I have
available."
"Forget about that," Han said, "I'm taking the Falcon." Han
grabbed the transmitter unit from his belt. "Chewie, get up to the ship.
WeUre taking off."
"Wait!" Picard shouted. Han stopped in his tracks. Picard turned
back and tapped his communicator. "Mr. LaForge, Doctor Crusher, report to
Transporter Room Four."
"Aye, sir" they both replied in turn.
"Thank you, Captain," Han said.
Picard did not seem to be paying attention as he was staring at
the Borg ship on the viewscreen, but he spoke anyway. "Good luck."
Han replied in kind, "Trust me."
The Borg stared with its best approximation of a wide-eyed expression at
the squat astromech droid connected to the console interface of the Borg
computer. Before it could react, Worf appeared in his field of vision. The
Klingon's teeth were barred and he fired his phaser at point blank range,
striking the Borg full in the chest. The cyborg dropped to the floor like
a clutter of junk.
Only four more Borg remained, but it was a match for Worf and
Data. As suspected the next Borg had a defense against phasers and Data's
shots reflected off the Borg's deflector shield.
But more important than their adaptability, the Borg were warned
that Artoo was tampering with the system and would surely have activated
defense mechanisms within their systems.
Worf and Data backed away from the Borg, trying to protect
Artoo-Detoo from the Borg's fire. "Artoo-Detoo," Data said. "The Borg have
been alerted to our presence and our plan. Be cautious of internal
defenses." Artoo whined but kept at his task.
Data dodged a phaser blast which erupted the panel on the wall to
his right. He returned fire but to no avail.
Worf was beginning to get annoyed by their ineffectiveness. Data
could see the KlingonUs desire to tear the Borg apart expressed in his
eyes. Data glanced over and caught Worf's eye. "Lt. Worf, Minos Echo Papa
607."
Worf's eyes gleamed in recognition and he nodded in understanding.
Even though he was not on Minos, Worf had studied the logs like any good
security officer of how Data and Tasha Yar had defended against the killer
drones on Minos. Data and Worf both fired their phasers in a continuous
stream on the lead Borg, finally concentrating on one spot. It was enough
to break through the BorgUs deflector shield and the mechanical creature
flailed backward, his arms spinning as he collapsed at the feet of the
other Borg.
Still, Artoo had not cracked through the Borg's system. Three Borg
were left, and it had only been one minute, 57 seconds.
They knew that each attack must be original and quick, not giving
the Borg time to react and adapt. Thus far, they had managed to dodge the
BorgUs fire, but they could not hold out forever. In seconds the Borg
would send reinforcements.
One of the Borg soldiers got close to Worf and the Klingon started
grappling it. The Borg brought its heavy arms on top of Worf, but the
Klingon withstood the brunt of the attack. His phaser dropped to the
ground as he grabbed the BorgUs arms and the two struggled ferociously.
Worf's adrenaline pumped and his eyes burned through what was left of the
Borg's soul.
While they grappled, the other two Borg converged on Data and
Artoo. Data sat in a squat and fired his phaser. He rolled left to Worf's
feet and snatched up the Klingon's fallen weapon. Armed with two phasers,
Data dropped to the ground and rolled to his right, firing the phasers
rapidly and sporadically based on his program of randomality. The two Borg
were hit with a barrage of phaser fire, not able to decipher where exactly
the shots were coming from or were going to hit. They were momentarily
confused. But not for long. They started firing at Data but the android
was quick and eluded the Borg's fire.
Artoo whirred with complaints and exclamations.The Borg had built
up defenses where the droid went. The two and a half minutes were up, and
he was still not in. It was a sense of pride with the droid, but he was
holding his own. Unbeknownst to the duo fighting out in the real world,
Artoo was fighting a more intense struggle in cyberspace.
Worf shook from the intensity and the stress on his muscles.
Conversely, the Borg seemed to be at ease, which served to infuriate Worf.
The Klingon ground his teeth so hard that blood pursed from his lips and
gums. His eyes, a demonic expression burnt into his countenance, bulged
but maintained a determined stare. With his left hand he gripped the
BorgUs weapon stump and with every ounce of the Klingon's strength, he
pulled. His arm bulged with pulsing muscles and blood vessels. Every part
of his being was intent on pulling, tugging, yanking on that arm and with
a final triumphant release the arm ripped from its socket in a shower of
sparks and loose wires.
The release was almost enough to knock Worf back. The Borg pin
wheeled back and stared blankly at his missing appendage. Worf, for his
part, was quicker to react than the computerized Borg. He gripped the
severed arm, and wielding it like a club, he bashed the Borg with its own
appendage. The Borg fell back, metal upon metal clanging through the
hollow corridors. It wasn't so much the impact of the arm on the Borg's
chest as it was adding insult to injury. The Borg was being bested by its
own technology. And though computers had no ego to bruise, the minuscule
amount of humanity remaining inside the Borg had built a hubris over the
years and quite deservedly based on their track record. So the Borg were
hurt.
And the icing on the cake was that Artoo had gotten in.
Chapter Twenty-Two
The Sleeping Giant
A shimmer appeared in the forward cargo hold of the Millennium Falcon
which slowly formed into five figures. The large hairy Wookiee howled
throughout the transporting process, but once he was back in his ship his
howling ceased. "That's enough, Chewie," Han said.
"I say, sir, that that is a most intriguing feeling, that
transporter," Threepio said. "I don't believe I've ever encounter anything
like it."
"No, it certainly is unique," Han said, trying to hide the
annoyance in his voice. He turned to Chewie. "Why did you bring the
Professor along? We're rescuing the Princess, not translating Bocce."
Chewie growled and shrugged in reply. "He felt left out?" Han
exasperated at the Wookiee's reasoning. "Just get up the cockpit and go
fire this thing up."
Han turned to Geordi and Dr. Crusher. "I'm gonna need the
coordinates of the shuttle's last transmission."
"That will be difficult," Geordi said. "Our configurations are
different than yours. It could take hours."
"All right then, weUll go to Weldar and hope we find them on the
way."
"What should I do, sir?" Threepio asked Han.
The Corellian was crass. REntertain the guests." He turned and ran
up to the cockpit leaving two rather confused Starfleet officers and a
droid.
Geordi could hear the thruster firing up. "Here, let me talk with
the Enterprise before you blow us all up!" Geordi shouted, running up the
bridge before Solo decided to take off with the tractor beam in place.
"Look," Han said, "we're in a hurry. Now talk to your ship. We've
got to go."
"LaForge to Enterprise. Release tractor beam."
"Tractor beam released," came the reply over the communicator.
"All right, Chewie, lock in coordinates from the navi-computer for
the Weldar system. We're bound to find them."
Chewie grunted when the operation was completed. "All right, then,
letUs go." The Millennium Falcon shot off to rescue the crew of the
Asimov.
Artoo beeped something and Data translated. "Artoo-Detoo has reached the
command center." There was the sound of phaser fire in the background.
"Fine. Then tell them to sleep and let's get the hell out of
here," Riker said.
"Initiating TsleepU command," Data said. His voice remained calm,
but Riker knew they were probably in a lot of trouble. He had followed
their plight against the Borg as detailed in their audio link-up but he
didnUt know exactly what was going on.
Artoo continued beeping, getting more excited. "What's going on?"
Luke asked, panicked.
Riker's brow creased. "I don't know," he said with effort. He was
concerned about what was going on and frustrated with his inability to
aide his friends. He wanted to beam over there and join the fight, but he
knew it would not have done any good.
They waited for what seemed an eternity for a response from Data.
Sounds of battle filled the communications link. Luke paced about
nervously.
Then everything stopped. The phasers stopped firing; there were no
sounds of breathing or shouts or the clang of metal footsteps on metal
pathways. Riker looked through the shuttle's window at the humongous block
in front of them. Everything was still. It was if time itself had stopped
and left behind a still image of the Borg ship.
"Data?" Riker asked tentatively. "Data, report." There was no
response. "Worf?"
"Commander." It was Data.
"Data, whatUs going on?"
"The 'sleep' command appears to have been successful," Data
reported. "The Borg have shut down." Artoo bleeped his agreeance.
"Great. We'll beam you back over immediately. Ensign Blake, lock
onto their signals and beam them back." Riker tapped a key on the conn
panel. "Riker to Enterprise. We've initiated the 'sleep' command. We're
beaming the Away Team aboard."
"Acknowledged, Number One," Picard's voice replied.
Riker turned to Blake and spoke forcefully. "Ensign, get them over
here now!"
Darth Vader stood on the bridge of his flagship Executor gazing over his
fleet. It was shaping up after its near defeat at the hands of the Borg.
But with them as allies, no one was a threat to the Emperor's plans for
the galaxy. Not even the Rebellion could defend against the combined might
this new alliance had brought. Although "alliance" was not the best word
to describe the Borg's relationship with the Empire. "Servitude" was
perhaps a better word choice.
Behind the fleet of Star Destroyers was the full blossom of the
Death Star. A near-exact replica of its predecessor, the Death Star was a
n awesome tool of destruction. The first one was feared throughout the
galaxy. News of its destruction spread like wildfire, but with luck and
the arrival of the new Death Star, people would toss off the first oneUs
destruction as Rebellion propaganda. Most people would probably think this
were the same Death Star. And the Death StarUs trial run on the inhabited
world Valkek would demonstrate the EmpireUs might and prove them more
powerful than ever.
That was the Emperor's plan. The Borg were an added bonus. Despite
the recent loss to the Rebellion, the Empire was on its rise back to the
top to regain former glory and go beyond. But the Borg, they were VaderUs
little secret. They were under his control and he wasnUt planning on
informing the Emperor of his new slaves. After all, they were his. And
they fit nicely in his plan to take rule over the Emperor. With the Borg,
Vader could seize control of the fleet, including the Super Star Destroyer
Executor, and the Death Star. No one, not even the Rebel Alliance or
Emperor, would be able to stop them. Or him.
Vader's breathing echoed through the bridge, the cavernous sound
accenting the thoughts hidden inside. Suddenly the hollow breathing cut
short in mid-breath.
The Borg...
The constant presence he felt in the deep recesses of the Force
that was his control over the Borg was gone. It was like a burden had been
lifted from Vader's mind, and he mentally slumped forward. His body,
however, remained ever rigid and stalwart.
His link was severed with the Borg. He reached out with the Force
trying to find some semblance of their minds or their consciousness.
Vader latched on to it. It was incredibly weak, having been
severely drained from the disconnection. He found the "sleep" command
implemented by Artoo Detoo and quickly overrode it in the consciousness by
strengthening the Borg's biological consciousness to overcome the
mechanical logic. Vader disguised the command as a malfunction and the
Borg quickly repaired it and filed it away for further use.
Immediately, the Borg awoke. Vader's mind was filled with their
renewed presence. It was a new start up for the Borg and the collective
ran a check for anomalies, malfunctions, and errors. It found Vader's
commands and severed the control.
From the distance, Vader's Force control was limited over the
Borg. The collective, while being comprised of thousands of weak minds,
had an unusually strong consciousness when put together. Vader's Force
skills were ineffective to command the collective. And he could not do it
from where he was.
The Borg were no longer under Vader's control. They now saw Vader
as an anomaly, a malfunction, an error. In trying to regain control of the
Borg, Darth Vader had inadvertently awaken the sleeping giant.
Unfortunately, the Borg also interpreted the Away Team as an error, and
worked to eliminate it.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Karn Knowledge
"We're coming up on Weldar," Han said as the Falcon pulled out of
hyperspace.
"Any sign of those fighters?" Geordi asked as he ducked into the
cockpit and took a seat behind Solo.
"Not yet. But there," Han pointed out the front screen top the
right. "That brown planet. That may be it. Kind of looks like the message
described it."
"It's pretty mountainous," Geordi remarked. "I hope they survived
the crash. Can we scan for any signs of life?"
"This is a smuggling freighter, not an exploration vessel," Han
snapped a little too harshly. "If we want to see life, we go down and see
it."
Chewie growled something and Han responded. "Yeah, I know the
planet's pretty big, but we'll find them. Don't worry."
Chewbacca's concern was not relieved.
"We've got to hurry," Han remarked. "This is Karn territory. They
frequent here to practice flight patterns."
"Are they with the Empire?" Dr. Crusher asked.
"No, they're with no one. The Empire's never been able to scare
them into submission. They're a horrid lot, those Karns."
"What about the Alliance?"
"As far as I know, everyone would rather use their techniques than
the actual Karns. They're rude, destructive, offensive, and difficult to
control."
"Sound like Klingons," Geordi remarked. Crusher smiled. "Well, you
take this thing in. I'm going to help the doctor with her medical
supplies."
"You do that," Han said. "I'll scout around the surface a bit."
The Falcon soared towards the planet, the pilot and co-pilot both
keenly aware of he rocky terrain below them. They did not need Artoo or
Threepio to tell them what the odds of landing were, nor the odds of the
Asimov's crew surviving. But they had to find out. They had to help.
Chewie growled an alert. "What?" Han asked, trying to figure out
what the Wookiee was referring to. There was no time to respond verbally,
just to slam the Falcon into a curve to the right as ten Karn fighters
passed above them.
"The Karn," Han said unnecessarily. He looked up at the passing
fighters. "They didn't notice us?" he asked incredulously. He looked at
Chewie for understanding. The Wookiee's expression was contorted in
confusion. "That's not right. We're too big to miss."
Han flicked on the comm units. "LaForge, Crusher, you two better
come up here." Seconds later the Enterprise crewmen were in the cockpit.
The Karn fighters were now small specks in the distance.
"Who are they?" Crusher asked.
"Karn?" Geordi ventured.
"Yep," Han answered. "And they left us alone."
"What does that mean?"
"I don't know, but I'm not planning on sticking around to find
out. I want to find the shuttle and get out of here."
"Well, we don't have to wait too long," Geordi said. "There's the
shuttle." He pointed to the smoking wreckage below them.
Han looked grimly at the ship. "I'm taking her in."
Chapter Twenty-Four
Lost Contact
Ensign Blake's brow creased and he scrutinized the console. Something was
wrong. "Uh, Commander," he said.
"What is it, Ensign?"
"I've lost their signals."
Riker frowned and stepped closer to the console. "Who? What are
you talking about?"
"The Away Team, sir. I've lost them."
"What?" Luke shouted. "What do you mean you lost them? You just
had them."
Riker studied the readings. After a second he related his
findings. "The Borg are awake again and have set up a scrambling field. We
can't pull them out."
"Then what do we do?" Luke asked.
"I'm not sure." Riker tapped his communicator. "Riker to
Enterprise."
"Enterprise here," Picard's voice rang over.
"Sir, the mission has failed."
"Yes, Number One, I know. The Borg have reactivated. What's going
on?"
"I donUt know. Data got the 'sleep' command initiated and they
were shutting down when the Borg suddenly awoke and--"
"Commander," Ensign Blake interrupted. "The Borg have put up their
shields and we're inside them."
"What do you mean? We're trapped?" Luke asked.
"The Borg ship is moving, sir," Blake reported.
"Keep the shuttlecraft inside those shields. What's the heading?"
"It appears we're heading towards the Imperial armada."
"Ensign, does the shield interrupt transporter patterns or just
the signals?" Riker asked.
"It's a sensor shield, sir. We can't read anything inside the ship
but they can read us just fine. It looks like the Borg are just trying to
keep us from getting them out. Communications are out as well."
"Normally, the Borg leave us alone when we're on their ships, but
they attacked this time. They aren't acting normal. I think the crew is in
a lot of danger.
"Captain," he addressed Picard. "We're stuck here at the moment."
"We can attempt to breach their shields so you can pass through,"
Picard offered.
"No, Captain, I have another idea. If we can beam aboard and get
that sensor shield shut down and deactivate the ship's main shields, then
we can all beam back and get back to the Enterprise."
"It'll be risky beaming blindly, Will."
"I'm aware of the risk, Captain. Ensign, I'll need you to stay
behind to activate the transporter to get us back."
"I'm coming with you," Luke jumped in.
Riker looked at the boy. In fact, he still thought of him as a
boy, younger, in fact, than the ensign. But as Luke stood before him now
he could see the determination and worldliness about his eyes and he could
see that perhaps Luke was as much a man as was he. "All right."
Luke looked surprised, but quickly regained his composure. Riker
was searching for phasers. "Here, take this." He handed Luke a phaser.
"That's okay," Luke said, gripping his lightsaber, "I've got
this."
"Suit yourself." Riker slipped a phaser into his hip pocket and
gripped another in his left hand."
"Good luck, both of you," Picard related. He seemed to be saying
that a lot, Riker noticed. He detected a hint of the same helplessness in
Picard's voice as he felt earlier with the Away Team in peril and him
unable to help. He was getting to do something now, and he wondered how
Picard felt, still sitting there on the bridge, watching his officers
disappear into the throes of battle.
"We'll be unable to keep tabs on you."
"I'll try to lock onto Ensign BlakeUs mind," Luke offered.
"Whatever we can," Riker said doubtfully.
Luke concentrated and struggled to gain an image of Blake's mind
that he could refer to in a form of communication. It was something that
he had thought of based on what Counselor Troi had mentioned: try to focus
on individual thoughts and you can pick out a specific person. He'd been
mulling over this idea since their discussion, but he hadn't tried it yet.
He had no idea whether it would work.
"Well, let's go," Riker said. "Set the coordinates as best you can
to the last known coordinates as the Away Team. That way we can look for
clues there."
Riker looked over to Luke. "Are you ready?"
Luke built up his confidence via the Force. "More than ever."
Commander Riker motioned to Ensign Blake. "Engage." Riker and
Skywalker disappeared through the transporter beam.
Just then the Borg ship fired a series of photon torpedoes at the
shuttlecraft Occam as part of its cleansing process as the Borg readied
themselves for conflict against the Imperial armada. The shuttlecraft
erupted in a fiery ball of flames and as quickly as the flames started,
they were gone. Debris was all that remained of the shuttle, and there was
not much of that.
Chapter Twenty-Five
The Wreckage
A hydraulic whine sounded as the landing ramp of the Millennium Falcon
lowered. Han had landed the ship in a small valley just big enough for the
Falcon and the shuttle. Chewbacca led the way down with his bowcaster
aimed and ready for anything. The others crept along behind the Wookiee,
trying to be as quiet as possible. Chewie made his way out of the ship.
His eyes narrowed as he scanned the area surrounding the ship and the
wreckage of the shuttle.
Han stepped silently next to his co-pilot. RAnything?S Han
whispered. Chewie shook his head. But the area was dense with rocks and
shadows. Assailants could be hiding anywhere, planning an ambush. They
could be just waiting until they are free of the ship and then open
firing. It was an uncomfortable feeling, being hunted, and Han had felt
that sensation way too many times already.
But Chewie was right. As far as he could tell, it certainly looked
like no one was around.
"Chewbacca! Is Mistress Leia out there? Or the others? Did they
survive the crash?" Threepio waddled up behind Dr. Crusher and LaForge,
but all of them jumped. Threepio stopped short when he registered their
reactions. They were glaring menacingly towards the droid. He knew that if
looks could kill, they would have sliced through his metal body like a
lightsaber.
"Oh. Sorry," he apologized meekly.
Han tried to forget that it was his idea to bring Threepio along.
He turned his attention back to scouting the area. "Looks okay," he
decided.
LaForge and Crusher emptied out of the Falcon, with Threepio in
tow. Geordi pulled out his tricorder and scanned the wreckage. "No signs
of life," he said neutrally.
"That's good, right?" Han asked.
"It may mean that they're already dead," Cusher said dismally. She
clutched her medical equipment bag and stepped towards the shuttle. "We've
got to get in there and find out."
Chewbacca's mannerisms caught Han's attention. "Wait a minute." He
put up a hand to stop the others. "Chewie senses something." Han studied
his friend for a minute, then asked, "What is it, pal?"
Chewie sniffed the air but did not respond to Han's inquiry. He
slowly made his way over to the shuttle. He stooped down and took in the
scents from inside the shuttle. He could detect a great deal of smoke and
fried metal and plexiglass. And the scents of people.
"Is it the princess?" Han asked. "Do you smell Leia?"
Chewie nodded quickly, then changed his mind and shook his head.
"What's going on?" Crusher asked.
Geordi's VISOR allowed him to check the wreckage. "No one's in
there. They must have gotten out."
"But was it on their own power?" Han asked.
"Captain Solo," Threepio said with a sense of urgency. Han paid no
mind to the droid for to Threepio, everything was an emergency. Han
continued looking through the rocky terrain for footsteps or some sign of
them leaving while Chewbacca sniffed the air. The Enterprise crewmen used
their tricorders to get life readings.
"Captain Solo," Threepio urged again.
Han frowned and shook his head. "They're not here and there's no
sign of them," he muttered to himself.
"Solo!" Geordi exclaimed. "I've got life signs. There must be some
element in these rocks that interferes with our readings. There's probably
a lot of stuff in this galaxy that we don't know about."
"Inside, the rocks?" Crusher said. "That means, in order for us to
be reading them--"
"--they must be within this valley," Han finished.
"Captain Solo, that is what IUve been trying to tell you,"
Threepio admonished. "There on the ridge," He pointed to a group of white
armor clad figures. "It's Imperial Stormtroopers!"
No sooner did Threepio announce it than a squad of troopers
stepped from behind the Millennium Falcon with their blasters trained on
the five of them. "Freeze!" one shouted, his blaster aimed at LaForge's
torso.
Han reacted before he thought. He pulled his blaster from his
holster and blasted the guy next to LaForge. The stormtrooper screamed and
fell at his side. It was the only cue Chewbacca needed to open fire with
his bowcaster. But it was also the only invitation the stormtroopers
needed to kill them all.
Han dove for cover as blaster bolts ripped into the wrecked hull
of the shuttle. Geordi and Crusher rolled around behind the Falcon's
landing ramp while Threepio hurriedly, and quite awkwardly, trudged up the
platform. Blaster fire erupted everywhere. Chewie was standing his ground
as the stormtroopers scurried for cover, but even the ferocious Wookiee
wouldnUt last long out in the open.
"Chewie, run for cover!" Han shouted. The Wookiee turned to see
Han ducking amidst the debris of the Asimov. Then Chewbacca backed behind
some of the taller rocks and fired from there.
Han mentally pictured the situation. He remembered seeing seven
stormtroopers right away, but he didnUt have much time to count. And he
had already nailed one. But these werenUt the stormtroopers they had
spotted at first. The reinforcements would be there any minute.
But there was something not right. The stormtroopers wouldnUt be
out on their own. They must be part of an Imperial base. Yet they had
flown over the planet and hadnUt seen any outpost. And they would never
put an Imperial base in Karn territory. So what were these stormtroopers
doing here? Han didn't have time to figure it out.
Chewie had downed two more of the Imperials and LaForge and
Crusher's phasers had gotten another. But they were still pinned down.
There was no way they could back to the ship.
But Threepio was already there. Han grabbed his com-link.
"Threepio. Come in."
After a moment the droid answered. "Yes, Captain Solo?"
"Threepio, get in the cockpit and fire up the forward blaster
cannons," Han ordered.
"But sir, I'm a protocol droid. It's against my programming to--"
"Just do it!" Han snapped.
The Imperial reinforcements were starting to pour out of the
hills. Han's cover was no longer sufficient.
"We can't hold out forever," Geordi said. He fired a phaser blast
at the rocks. Boulders and rocky debris rained on top of a group of
stormtroopers. Others were surprised by the collapsing over that Chewbacca
managed to catch them off-guard.
Then the Falcon's forward cannons laid down a covering fire. Most
of the blasts struck harmlessly against the rocks, but it was enough of a
distraction for Han to seek better coverage. He didnUt know exactly how
many were left. His guess was around five. He figured that might be
enough.
Han charged the stormtroopers cover and let out a primal yell.
Chewie let up on his shots, unsure of what Solo was planning.
"What is he doing?" Geordi said. Everyone stopped firing for fear
of hitting Solo.
As he passed a fallen stormtrooper, Han latched up his blaster.
Han stopped short of the troopers. Even though their faces were covered,
the stormtroopers' mannerisms conveyed the surprise and fear they felt. It
was clear that they didn't know what the hell was going on. And neither
did anyone else. Han stood before the crouching soldiers who stared up at
him. He stopped yelling, but his voice echoed throughout the cavernous
rocks. Han looked down at the stormtroopers, and almost as an
afterthought, looked at the two blasters in his hands, then fired on the
Imperials. At the close range the lasers easily cut through the white
armor. Stormtroopers fell all around Han. Those who were able to get out
of the alcove where they were hiding quickly stumbled away from the Rebel
maniac.
"He's crazy!" one yelled. "Run!"
As the stormtroopers scaled the rocky terrain, Crusher shot one
with her phaser and Chewie picked off the last one with his bowcaster.
They fell to the ground in a clatter of armor.
Han stood with his smoking blasters, and looked down on what he
had done. He looked over at the others.
"What are you, crazy?" Geordi shouted.
Han smiled a lop-sided grin. "Hey. I told you it'd work."
"Captain Solo!" Threepio called. He was shuffling his way back out
of the ship. "Did it work? Did it work?" He looked around at all of the
dead stormtroopers and stopped in his tracks. "Oh dear. I guess I'm a
better shot than I thought."
Chewbacca growled something. Han grimaced. "No, I donUt know why
they were here. We didn't spot any Imperial bases. And I wouldnUt have
thought they would have made it well in this system."
Han holstered his blaster and gripped the stormtrooper's weapon
with both hands. "Well, we've still got to find Leia and the others. Let's
close up the Falcon and go look for them."
Chewbacca and Threepio complied with HanUs plan while LaForge and
Crusher walked over to converse with Han privately.
"Any signs of them, Commander?" Han asked Geordi as he approached.
Geordi curtly shook his head, mostly out of frustration.
"Whatever's in those rocks is screwing up my readings. And it looks like
with the shuttle crashing, our landing, and the firefight, enough dust has
been kicked up in the atmosphere that I'll have difficulty reading
anything for a while."
Han frowned. "Great."
Dr. Crusher was kneeling over the wreckage, visually scanning it.
"No signs of blood or anything," she remarked to no one in particular.
"And no trail," Han added. "That means one of two things: either
they don't want anyone following them, or they were taken. Either way
we're going to have to take this on foot."
"As we get out of these rocks, I'll be able to use this equipment
to locate life signs," Geordi said.
"Which way should be go?" Crusher asked. She stood, satisfied that
there were no traces of the missing crewmen in the vicinity.
Han looked over his shoulder to the fallen stormtroopers. The side
of his mouth raised in a quirky expression. "I hate to say it, but we
should probably go that way," he said, indicating the hills from where the
troopers had come.
"But the EmpireUs that way," Crusher protested.
"And they might be the ones who have our friends," Han answered.
"It's the only lead we have at the moment."
"Agreed," Geordi said.
Chewbacca step up to them with Threepio waddling behind trying to
catch up. "Is she secure?" Han asked Chewie, referring to the Falcon.
Chewie roared an affirmative. "Okay then, let's get going."
Han started up the rocks, carefully maneuvering around the
stormtrooper bodies. Chewbacca, LaForge, and Crusher followed. Only Han
and Chewie had their blasters drawn, but they were all ready for anything.
Threepio looked after them with astonishment as they scaled the
rocky terrain. "What?" he exclaimed. "There are stormtroopers over there.
I'm not going that way." Threepio stood his ground and refused to move.
"That way is much too rocky."
"Fine," Han said as he reached the peak of the first tier of
rocks. "Then when the Empire comes back looking for their men, you can
explain to them that it was you who blasted them."
"Oh dear," Threepio said, seeing the problem with his position. He
looked back and Geordi was the last to disappear over the first ridge.
Threepio panicked. "Wait. Wait for me!" And he made his way up the hill as
fast as he could.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Hopeless Tempest Tossed
On the Enterprise viewscreen, the battle appeared as little flashes of
light in the distance, like stars suddenly getting brighter and
extinguishing. Picard stared at the viewer with the scrutiny and intensity
one stares at math problems when not having a clue to how to solve it. He
could only sit and watch and guess at what was going on. He was flying
blind on this mission, if you could call it a mission. This was more of a
situation on the verge of being a lifestyle. If the Enterprise were stuck
in this far off galaxy in the past, then this struggle would become home
to the crew. And Picard had not fully grasped what it was all about. And
with the Borg as added players, everything was very difficult to discern.
Especially from this distance. To Picard, the Empire's fleet and the Borg
ship were little more than specks on the viewscreen or images on sensor
screens. And the people inside those ships, his crew, they were mere
numbers of lifesigns that the sensors could detect. Picard had no other
contact with Riker or Data or Worf, especially now that the Occam was
destroyed, and that prospect was making him nervous. He was responsible
for his crew, and no matter how stalwart an appearance he made on the
outside, he was always wrestling with emotions on the inside.
And the damned Borg--this being the first time encountering them
since Wolf 359 did not make the situation an easier.
"Captain?" Troi said, sensing something was disturbing Picard.
He turned his attention away from the viewscreen. "Yes,
Counselor?"
Troi hesitated for a moment, trying to decide how to approach the
captain. Picard understood. He was aware that the crew had been walking on
eggshells with him, for fear of mentioning the Borg and drudging up that
horrific experience. Troi finally settled with, "Is everything all right?"
Picard nodded solemnly. "Yes, Deanna. I'm all right," he spoke
softly.
Troi found herself nodding without even knowing it. Her mind was
trying to read PicardUs emotions, to see what he was thinking. She sensed
anxiety and fear within him, but it was attributed to his crew, not
himself.
"Ensign Medina," Picard addressed the Hispanic woman at Tactical.
"Report."
Medina was not expecting the captain to call on her. He knew full
well that they had not received word from the Away Team or the Asimov or
her rescue team in quiet some time. And if she were to receive a
transmission from them, Picard would be the first to hear it. She was
slightly flustered, but answered lamely, "No contact with any of our
teams, sir."
Picard nodded. He eyed the ensign at Tactical a moment longer
before turning away. Then his eyes drifted to Lieutenant Jacobs at Ops and
Ensign Ro at Conn. No one was very experienced on his crew. Ro had some
experience, but she was new to the Enterprise, and he had never been in
battle with her. All of his experienced crewmen were on the various Away
missions.
He cursed himself for not planning ahead and foreseeing that they
might be in battle. But there was no way of knowing that. The Away mission
to the Borg ship was crucial. They all were, and the best people for the
job were assigned. He would just have to make do with the skeleton crew he
had.
But Picard knew it was best to keep the Enterprise out of battle.
By rights, Picard should not be interfering, but he felt it was his
responsibility to help Princess Leia.
Picard took another look at the viewscreen and thought about where
his crew was, what happened to them, and what was in store for them. At
that moment he realized that, if it became necessary, the Enterprise would
join the fray in order to save his crew and preserve the galactic
situation in which they interfered.
William Riker scanned the area for Data, Worf, and Artoo. He had just
blindly beamed over to the Borg ship from the shuttlecraft along with Luke
Skywalker. All around Riker were Borg encased in a sort of stasis field,
connected to the collective. He had been on a Borg ship before and was
familiar with the layout. He slowly scanned in a circle, his phaser drawn.
He found a railway running along the walkway where he materialized
and he stopped short. The railway was just at his left side, right where
Luke should have transported. He looked down over the railway and saw Luke
dangling from the walkway with one hand. It looked to be nearly three
hundred feet down. Most of the Borg ship was made up of walkways and none
were underneath Luke.
"Luke!" Riker called. He slipped his phaser into his pocket and
kneeled down. He reached underneath the railway and grasped Luke's arm
with both of his. "Give me your other hand!" Riker shouted.
Luke stretched. He was so far down that Riker had a hard time
getting the leverage he needed to pull him up. For his part, Luke tried to
stay calm. He ran Obi-Wan Kenobi's words through his mind. Feel the Force
flow through you. Luke closed his eyes in concentration. Let the Force
guide your hand, Luke. Obi-Wan never said that. Luke lost his
concentration and opened his eyes. His weight dropped and Riker had to
lunge to keep his grip on Luke. "Hey, hold still!" Riker shouted.
"Ben?" Luke said weekly. His brow creased in concentration and
confusion. "Is that you, Ben?"
Let the Force control your actions.
Luke closed his eyes again in concentration. He felt the Force
flow through his body and he went limp. However, Riker did not feel Luke
as dead weight; he actually seemed lighter, as though Luke were somehow
still supporting his own weight. Luke's other hand smoothly reached up and
grabbed onto Riker's arm. Riker pulled back and slowly managed to get Luke
up to the walkway. Luke opened his eyes as he sat up.
"Are you all right?" Riker asked between heavy breaths.
"Yeah," Luke said quietly, almost absently. Then he seemed to
realize what Riker had asked and he faced him. "Yeah, I'm fine." Luke's
thoughts, however, were on Ben Kenobi. This was the first time that his
mentor communicated with him since Luke was in the Death Star trench.
Luke looked up at Riker. "Thanks," he said.
Riker gave him a hand to help Luke stand. "It's no problem. What
happened?"
"When we transported blindly, I ended up right on the edge of the
walkway," Luke explained. RAnd I didnUt have time to gain my balance."
"Are you sure youUre okay?"
"Yes," Luke said and shrugged. "I just thought I heard something
is all."
"Well, let's keep an eye out. The others ran into Borg opposition.
WeUre bound to as well." Riker took another look around as he spoke.
Luke suddenly realized that they were surrounded by Borg tapping
into the collective. He drew his lightsaber, but Riker stopped him before
he activated it.
"Hold it!" Riker shouted. "These are fine. It's the ones walking
about that we have to worry about."
Luke relaxed a little and started to put his lightsaber back on
his belt, but thought better of it. Instead he nestled it neatly in his
palm.
Riker pointed to the end of the walkway as they walked toward it.
"That's where the Away Team was beamed." He rubbed his hand against the
black pockmarks on the walls. "The scoring on the wall is definitely from
phasers and Borg lasers."
"No blood or dead Borg," Luke remarked.
"The Borg use their dead for spare parts," Riker said. The
commander bent down to the access panel where Artoo plugged into the Borg.
He gazed at the port thoughtfully, stroking his beard, looking for a sign
as to where the others had gone.
"And what about the others?" Luke asked. "Do you think they're
dead?"
"No," Riker said, closing the panel hatch. He stood up. "They've
probably been taken for assimilation."
"You mean they're going to become one of those?" Luke said,
jabbing a thumb at one of the Borg connected to the wall outlet.
Riker nodded. "That's the idea."
Suddenly a light flashed passed Riker's shoulder from behind and
erupted against the wall. They both spun around, their weapons drawn.
Three Borg faced them, laser implements on their utility arms. They fired
again.
Riker sought cover by diving for the floor as Luke activated his
lightsaber. With snap-hiss the laser blade grew from its casing and
whizzed through the air, guided by LukeUs steady hand. In one swift
movement Luke had the lightsaber out and deflected the Borg lasers.
However, the Borg were an easy match for LukeUs limited Jedi
abilities. The Borg fired repeatedly and a lot quicker. Luke gave up the
defense and joined Riker on the ground of the walkway.
Riker was firing his phaser at the Borg while ducking under the
enemy fire.
"Well, that didn't work," Luke said.
"Do you have your blaster with you?" Riker said.
Luke grimaced. "I left it on the Falcon," he admitted.
"Great," Riker said. "I have a bad feeling about this." And he
dodged another laser blast.
The Borg ship converged on the Star Destroyer Tempest who led the Imperial
resistance. The Empire was unaccustomed to fighting defensively, but were
regardless very skilled and hopeful of turning the battle into an offense
strategy.
Captain Norsmo stood on the bridge of the Tempest and glared at
the oncoming cube. Norsmo was a middle-aged man, a career officer. He was
of medium build, with dark hair, but greying at the temples. He had heard
rumors about these Borg from the crew, that they were inhuman cyborgs with
many Imperials along them. That the Borg were responsible for the loss of
the Cassax outpost and the Star Destroyer Barricade. They were not
official word, but rumors had a habit of containing a lot of truth in
them. Norsmo, in truth, had absolutely no idea of what he was about to
face.
The huge cube slowly but steadily filled the bridge window. Small
manned fighters were already intercepting the Borg to no avail. Tiny
bursts of flame pockmarked the cube as TIE fighters smashed into the ship
or were destroyed by the Borg's precise lasers. But none of this really
mattered to Captain Norsmo.
Three more Star Destroyers were right behind him and Lord Vader
was calling in reinforcements from around the sector. Personally, Norsmo
doubted they would need such fire power. Granted the Borg ship was huge,
the same size as VaderUs new Super Star Destroyer, but it was only one
ship. And he was not planning on giving them the opportunity to return
fire.
"Target enemy ship," Norsmo commanded calmly. Imperial crewmen
worked feverishly to comply. "Fire all weapons on my mark."
The atmosphere on the bridge was tense as everyone awaited
NorsmoUs order. No one dared breath. The Borg ship was nearly on top of
them. At this close range, nothing could withstand the onslaught Norsmo
had planned for them. The cube eclipsed all the stars in the backdrop and
seemed to engulf all of space. All that anyone could see was the mesh of
metal and hodgepodge of lien components that made up the Borg ship.
NorsmoUs brow lowered. "Fire," he said so softly it was difficult to hear
him even on the deathly silent bridge.
The Tempest unleashed all of its firepower in one horrendous
blast. Over a hundred heavy turbolaser cannons and ion cannons fired dead
center on the Borg. The explosion that followed violently rocked the Star
Destroyer and knocked Norsmo to the ground. Systems were going haywire
from the shockwave of the blast and crewmen were screaming and being
tossed about the bridge. Throughout the ship stormtroopers and walkers
tumbled to the ground. Walls buckled and flames engulfed entire hallways.
Everything not tied down, and some things that were, flew everywhere.
The whole universe seemed to shake around Commander Riker. Right in front
of him a train of fire plowed through the ship, wrecking havoc along its
path. The blast seared through hundreds of walkways and thousands of Borg,
slicing right through the ship. Riker was tossed hard against the railing
and he felt a rib crack. His phaser went flying. He watched as one of the
attacking Borg was swept along with the river of flames. The blast of fire
was deafening, and Riker had difficulty figuring out what was going on. As
the ship rocked, Riker struggled to hold onto the railing so as not to
slide off the walkway. He noticed that much of the ship just a hundred
meters away was completely gone, but he could not figure out why he was
still alive. Then he realize that the Borg must have placed a force field
around the opening. Something really powerful blasted a huge whole through
the ship. Riker had to wonder what could have that kind of power. He
doubted that the Enterprise could cause this much damage to a Borg ship.
Riker was never one to not take advantage of an opportunity. With
the Borg occupied with the outside battle and repairing the ship, he and
Luke would be able to find their missing crewmen. With luck the blast
destroyed the sensor scrambler and they could beam back to the Occam.
He used the railing to pull himself to his feet. Riker looked
around for his phaser, and found it a few feet away. But he could find
Luke. He lost sight of him when the lasers struck the ship. He searched
around frantically, eyeing the Borg as he did so. Those two were stable
once again and converging on him. Riker saw a foot through the corner of
his eye.
Riker found Luke nestled uncomfortably against a Borg compartment.
A Borg stood in the compartment above him, but a group of piping from
above him had smashed through the Borg's skull. Luke did not look good.
"Luke!" Riker shouted and slid down next to him. He checked what
he hoped was Luke's pulse and felt nothing. "Come on!" he shouted in
frustration. Riker risked a quick glance over his shoulder. The Borg had
spotted them. They aimed their laser attachments and fired.
Norsmo was sprawled out along the floor of the bridge. He propped himself
up on one elbow and looked out the viewport, a sense of triumph
overwhelming him. As the flames died out, he saw the chunks of debris
floating about, some striking the hull of the Star Destroyer. And he
sawIthe Borg ship. Norsmo could not believe what he was seeing. The front
third of the ship had been decimated and fragments of the ship and Borg
members floated around the ship. The hole in the face was twice the size
of the Tempest itself. Yet the cube still came towards them. No ship could
withstand the kind of damage the Borg did and still be operational. They
must have lost all guidance control, Norsmo decided. Yes, that was it. He
had defeated the Borg. It was only moving out of control because the crew
were all dead and the ship inoperable. But it was coming towards them--
"Evasive action!" Norsmo shouted. He quickly brought himself to
his feet.
"We can't, sir!" a crewman shouted. "The shockwave knocked out two
of our engines!"
Norsmo cursed. "Then activate the emergency engines. Just get us
the hell out of here!"
The four emergency engines fired up, along with the remaining
working large engine on the right, and slowly pulled the Star Destroyer
out of the path of the oncoming Borg ship, turning left. But the Tempest
was not fast enough to completely miss the Borg. The cube smashed into the
rear of the Imperial cruiser. The force fields absorbed most of the
impact, but the Borg ship still wrenched its way through the heavy armor
plating. Hundreds of crew perished as the crew quarters were exposed to
space. The rear of the Tempest exploded and erupted in flame. Five of the
eight power cells ruptured in the crash, causing many ship's systems to
fail outright, including lights, temperature controls, and artificial
gravity systems. Panic spread throughout the ship. Fires erupted on board.
Walkways and walls collapsed, crushing droids and crewmen.
Riker ducked beneath the BorgUs laser shot as the ship shook again, this
time more violently than before. There was a wrenching sound of metal
straining against metal. He realized that they must have struck something,
perhaps an asteroid or another ship. Riker supported himself against the
wall, but the Borg were not so lucky.
One lost its balance and tumbled off the walkway, down hundreds of
feet. The walkway above them collapsed on top of the other Borg. He
managed to withstand the impact, but strained to keep the walkway above
his head while dodging more debris. Suddenly, an entire wall rocked loose
above them. The wall, along with several tons of metal and dozens of Borg
rained on top of the hapless Borg. As the chunk of wall sailed downward,
it struck the walkway Riker and Luke were on and kept on going, carrying
the Borg with it.
Riker breathed easier. The Borg were no longer an immediate
threat. But they were not out of peril yet. He checked Luke's pulse
againIand felt a slight beat. It was faint and slow. He had missed it the
first time, but it was definitely there. But Luke was in bad shape and
Riker didn't want to risk moving him just yet.
He would have to leave him here and search for the others on his
own. Riker frowned. One man versus thousands of Borg. The odds were not
good. He found LukeUs lightsaber and held it in his hand. It might prove
useful, he decided, and tucked it into the pocket at his waist.
Riker stood and surveyed his options. The wreck destroyed the rest
of the walkway. It extended for only a few more feet, then dropped off.
The other side was blocked by more wreckage. He might have to try to climb
to another walkway. Riker touched his rib gingerly and winced at the pain.
He was definitely going to be sore after this, and he did not look forward
to climb around and aggravating his injury. Riker decided that scaling the
debris would be the best bet. He turned towards the clutter and stopped
short.
A golden shimmer appeared before him and quickly formed two Borg.
He flipped up his phaser, not entirely sure what kind of damage it would
do to himself at this close range. The Borg swung its arm around into
RikerUs wrist. His wrist snapped and the phaser flew. Riker suddenly felt
the sharp pain. He did not notice the second Borg as it came behind him
and shot a hypo in his neck. Riker immediately felt the pain go away and
his body go limp, right before everything went black.
Emergency lights dimly lit the darkened bridge of the Tempest. Crewmen
were floating uncontrollably about the bridge. Norsmo had struck his head
against the main viewport and blood floated out of his wound and around
the room. The smell of smoke and ozone filled his nostrils. It was
difficult to breathe or see through the thick haze of smoke. Crewmen were
screaming in agony, and the captain attempted to cover his ears, but
without gravity it proved a slightly more difficult task than he
anticipated, and Norsmo's aching bones refused to move.
"Damage report!" he shouted at anyone who could hear him over the
death cries. He was positioned against the port side wall, and pulled
himself along the wall to the main viewport. He wanted to get a visual
account of where he was exactly.
"Main computer's down, sir!" a crewmen shouted. Norsmo glanced
back to notice that he was the only one at his post. The rest were dead,
injured, or trying to pull themselves back to stability.
"Auxiliary power?" Norsmo inquired.
The crewman shook his head, then looked up at his captain. "It
hasn't come on line, sir," he reported.
Norsmo peered through the window to spot the Borg ship. It was
firing on the Star Destroyer Victory. It was still operational. Norsmo had
given everything he had, plus the ship smashed into his ship, and the
thing was still going. As he watched, the Borg ship got bigger. The Borg
were using debris in space to rebuild their ship. It was unbelievable.
He turned away in disgust and horror. It was getting colder in the
ship. Since the temperature controls were down, nothing was keeping the
heat from escaping the ship and leaving it as cold as the space outside.
After a moment, Norsmo looked up at his crew. It was in shambles. His
attention was pulled over to the lone crewman still at his post. Norsmo
grabbed handholds on the ceiling and made his way over to the crewman. The
crewman was young with sandy blond hair and handsome features. For some
reason, he was not floating. As Norsmo approached him, he realized why.
His leg was pinned under a collapsed console. Jagged metal had seared its
way into his leg, and all around him, his blood orbited him, like a ring
of asteroids and debris around a planet.
The captain brought himself down next to the crewman. "What is
your name?" he asked.
"Ensign Jenkins," the crewman reported. He was not panting or
cringing in pain. It was if he did not even notice that his leg was
pinned.
Norsmo looked him in the eye and could see the undying loyalty to
the Empire as well as a naivete as to what the Empire was all about. "Son,
where are you from?"
Jenkins looked at him. There was something about the way the
captain spoke that said he knew there was not much time left. And equally,
there was a sense about Jenkins that he was completely unaware of his
mortality or the immediateness of the situation. "Tatooine, sir. It's a
desert planet in the--"
"I know Tatooine, son," Norsmo interrupted. "How long have you
been out here?"
"I graduated the academy a month ago, sir," Jenkins replied. "This
is my first assignment."
Norsmo frowned. Fresh out of the academy-- This kid was not even
thinking on his own. He was still brainwashed with all the glorious Empire
propaganda the Emperor instilled throughout the campus. Yet Jenkins is the
most loyal of all the Imperials on his crew. Norsmo had to smile at the
irony of the situation. If he had known that a green cadet was on his
bridge crew, he would have thrown him off in a second. And now that very
same kid was the only one still at his post.
"Well, Jenkins, for serving above and beyond the call of duty, I
hereby promote you to the rank of Commander," Norsmo announced. he tried
to make it as official sounding as he could. Jenkins smiled nervously,
unsure whether the captain were joking. "Congratulations," Norsmo
continued. "You've made Commander faster than anyone in the history of the
Empire." He took a command badge from his uniform breast and pinned it on
Jenkins. Commander Jenkins smiled broadly, blood smeared across his
glistening teeth.
"Now, let's see about getting this computer back on line,
Commander," Norsmo said, betting back to business. When he spoke, it was
with half a heart, for he knew it was all futile. If the Borg did not
finish them off or the ship just erupt in flames from the damage already
inflicted on them, then they would freeze to death or suffocate in the
next few hours. Without even auxiliary power, life support was inoperable
and they would either breathe all the air or the fires would consume it.
Commander Jenkins, on the other hand, worked with renewed vigor
and spirit. Captain Norsmo had to pity the boy. He had the quickest rise
to power as well as the quickest fall.
Unfortunately for the Tempest, the Borg were able to return fire. They
were not malicious or vengeful. They did not think of such things. They
merely needed parts to rebuild their ship. Borg tractor beams lashed out
on the remains of the lame Star Destroyer and slowly decimated it, piece
by piece, and used the pieces to repair the gigantic cube.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Delusions of Grandeur
Aboard the Imperial flagship Executor, Darth Vader watched as his plan
began to fall apart. Standing on the bridge, he could see the battle
playing before him through the viewports and feel the emotions of the
people fighting. He had plans for the Borg as allies, but as enemies they
would have to be destroyed. They posed too great a threat to the Empire.
If it took all the men on the station and the Star Destroyers to do it,
Vader was going to stop the Borg.
He turned from the battle. The Tempest was lost and soon others
would be as well. But it was all a way to buy time until the crews could
get the Death Star operational. After the disastrous field test, the
future of this space station was greatly in question. Crews were working
round the clock completing repairs and running diagnostic checks on all
the systems. And to top that off, Vader's Super Star Destroyer was in
shambles after tackling with the Borg earlier. The Empire was facing their
greatest struggle and their two greatest weapons were not operable.
Suddenly Vader's breath cut short. He felt a ripple in the Force
and reached out to decipher it. But a crewman interrupted his
concentration.
"Lord Vader," he said as he snapped to attention. "Incoming
priority message from the Emperor."
Vader turned to face him. His mask hid his reaction to the news.
Without a word he left the bridge and headed for his private quarters.
Dr. Direidri peered at the console through weary eyes. She had to squint
to see the writing, because her eyes just did not want to cooperate
otherwise. She had been working on the temporal space anomaly for hours
now, ever since they found out about it. For a while Data and Geordi
LaForge helped her out, but they were both called away. Since then, the
problem had been put on the back burner and nearly forgotten about. But
not by Dr. Direidri. She was dedicated to finding an answer and bringing
the crew back home. Nothing was more important to her than getting back to
the galaxy and time she knew and loved, to her friends, co-workers, and
loved ones. She gave every ounce of her effort to solving the problem,
because it was a matter of utmost importance.
Besides, when she printed her findings, she would be famous.
Direidri found that her career in seismology was not very
lucrative. In fact, one could only do a job like hers because one loved
rocks. In her opinion one could only love it if they lived under one. In
recent years she felt the whole area of science growing stagnant. There
were few seismological abnormalities or curiosities in Federation space,
at least not since the destruction of the Klingon moon Praxis over 75
years ago. Direidri was looking for excitement, and at first Driedarrel VI
was it. But then this came along.
What made this such an incredible find was that the temporal space
rift appeared at the same time as the seismic activity on Driedarrel VI.
It was possible that they were related. With the information on temporal
rifts and space rifts available from Enterprise logs and files, as well as
input from Engineering, Dr. Direidri had come up with a working theory.
The space around Driedarrel VI, as well as around Valkek in this
galaxy, was what she would consider unstable. It appeared to be a
collapsed wormhole that collapsed so long ago that none of the inhabitants
of either world had noticed it or known that it was gone. On Driedarrel
VI, the wormhole was still having its effect on the planet. There was
seismic activity whenever something of sufficient mass passed by the
wormhole, such as a starship. The wormhole was also situated close to a
temporal rift. Direidri detected temporal fluctuations from around the
wormhole, not inside. It is a statistical aberration that the two were so
close together. The wormhole, being more powerful even in death than the
temporal flux, not only connected two galaxies, but two times as well.
Yet, they only worked in tandem with the other, and created a temporal
space rift. When the Enterprise passed through the inactive wormhole, the
interference of mass distorted the fabric of space and sent ripples to the
planet, causing the seismic disturbances. They, in turn, sent waves back
up to the wormhole and activated it briefly, along with the temporal rift.
Now that they knew that, they only needed to recreate the
conditions and they would theoretically be able to pass back through the
temporal space rift to where they originally entered. Unfortunately, no
planet was as near to the anomaly as Driedarrel VI was. Valkek was the
closest, but it was still hundreds of thousands of miles away. And they
needed some force to equal the seismic disturbance waves at that close of
range to activate the rift again.
Dr. Direidri smiled. She stood upright and the tenseness in her
back took its hold on her muscles. But she did not feel it. She was too
elated at her discovery, and dreamy-eyed with the grandeur and esteem she
would soon receive. She could already read her future research paper:
"Time and Tide: The Creation of Temporal Space Rifts Through Interference
of Mass and Planetary Seismological Activity" by Dr. Lilian Direidri.
All she had to do was report this to Captain Picard. Her smile
became more seductive. She decided that she would give this to Jean-Luc in
person. She grabbed a datapad and left her lab.
Vader's chambers were the one of the first completed areas of the Super
Star Destroyer Executor, even before the bridge was completed constructed.
It was the express order of Lord Vader himself that it be so as he wanted
a proper atmosphere to speak uninterrupted with his master, the Emperor.
The door slid open and Darth Vader stepped into his chambers. The
decor was very dark and austere. There were no decorations but the walls
were sleek, shiny black. Consoles flashed lights monitoring the progress
of the shipUs repairs. There were minor damages to Vader's room in the
fight against the Borg and he could still detect the slight haze of smoke
emanating throughout the room. In the center near the far wall was a
pod-like chamber in two halves that clamped together with teeth. It was an
even sharper black than the rest if the room and stood out as the main
structure in the room. In the chamber itself was a throne of sorts, where
Vader could sit and meditate, guide the troops, and feel the Force. Yet to
the side of the structure still was a lone circular platform, oddly placed
in the exact center of the room. To the casual observer, it appeared just
a raised platform with no real purpose except perhaps architecturally to
create levels. However, it held much more importance. It was situated just
in front of the holographic screen where Vader communicated with his
emperor.
Vader strode over to the platform. He stepped onto it and
ceremoniously slipped down on one knee as the holo-screen flickered to
life. A large hazy emerald image of a shrouded figure appeared before the
bowing lord. Shadows disguised the face of the figure, but his unseen eyes
unquestioningly were scrutinizing Darth Vader.
Vader's head was down and he spoke without looking up. "My
master," he addressed with uncharacteristic reverence. Vader was not
someone known for bowing to anyone. He was someone people feared, in the
Empire and Rebel Alliance both. That he would relent to this figure was
testimony to the Emperor's power.
"I have seen a disturbance in our plans," the Emperor said. His
voice was gravely but strong, demanding attention. "There are new factors
with which we need to contend."
"I have seen of whom you speak," Vader said. His head remained
down.
"The Borg pose a threat to everything we have built. Your attempts
at subduing them have been unsuccessful. You will deal with them
effectively."
"As you wish, my master."
They were silent a moment. Neither spoke and no one moved. The
Emperor's image was larger than Vader himself, although it only showed
down to the EmperorUs shoulders. Finally the Emperor spoke again.
"There is a far greater problem in the future." He paused again.
"I have felt a new presence in the Force."
Vader's heavy breathing suddenly stopped. He raised his head to
look at his master. "Yes. I have felt it too. In the trench of the Death
Star."
"This presence was unforeseen," the Emperor continued. "He is
capable of great power if trained properly. But he is impetuous and
unskilled. He must be found." He paused again and scrutinized Vader,
guessing at the Dark Lord's reaction to what he was about to say. Vader's
head was again bowed.
"The boy in the fighter, the one who destroyed the Death Star,
whose presence you felt in the trench--is Luke Skywalker."
The Emperor expected some sort of reaction from Vader. And he got
one. To Vader's credit, he did not flinch, raise his head, or even skip a
breath. But there was a violent bump in the Force.
Deep in the shadows, a smile became evident on the Emperor's face,
rotting crooked teeth shining through. He continued. "He is currently
aboard the Borg ship."
Vader looked up again at the Emperor. "I understand," he said. "I
shall not fail you, my master."
The Emperor's smile faded. "I have foreseen it," he said.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Assault on the Ridge
Threepio was all but quiet as he made his way through the rocky terrain.
"This dust is clogging up my joints," he whined. He jerked his arms around
to emphasize his point. "Might I suggest a less...hazardous route?"
Han did his best to ignore the droidUs annoying interjections, but
Chewie bellowed out a terrible roar.
"Quiet!" Crusher hushed. "We don't know who's around here or where
they are."
"Relax, Doc," Han said. "Chewie's just speaking what we're all
thinking anyway."
Threepio mocked the best shock he could. "Just typical of humans
to never think of a droid's feelings--"
"Besides," Han interrupted, "if the Empire's got Leia and the
others, theyUre long gone to a base by now. And we've already come across
their patrol group." He looked back at the rest of the group following his
lead. "Don't worry. WeUll spot the base a few hundred yards away so we'll
be safe."
Han turned back around and stared straight into a white helmet.
Startled, he jumped back a step and could make out the features of the
stormtrooper helmet.
"What are you doing here?" the stormtrooper demanded in a muffled
voice. He pointed his blaster at Han's midsection.
Han reacted without thinking. He swatted his hand holding his
blaster against the troopers hand. The impact numbed Solo's hand and the
two blasters went flying.
"Get him before someone hears!" Geordi whispered harshly.
Han looked down at his hands, and the stormtrooper's empty hands.
No weapons at all. The others were several steps behind them, at least two
seconds away from help. Han looked up at the stormtroopers black eyes.
Right now they didn't look so menacingly dark as they did just empty and
void.
Han threw up his hands--knocking the Imperial's arms out of the
way--and slammed them brutishly against either side of the trooper's head.
The stormtrooper faltered a moment but regained his composure and brought
his fist across Solo's jaw. Han took the stormtrooper's body momentum with
the punch, pivoted his own body, and tossed him away...
...and right into Geordi. The two fell in a tangle of limbs.
"Oh dear," Threepio said.
Geordi and the stormtrooper both swore, and Han looked down at
their jumbled bodies. Chewbacca grabbed the stormtrooper by the back armor
plate and unceremoniously tossed him against a rock. The impact was enough
to knock him unconscious.
"Watch what you're doing!" Geordi shouted.
"Shh!" Han waved his hand to shush them. His head was cocked
oddly, as though he were listening carefully. Han waved his hand down,
motioning for the group to get as low as possible. He crept up to a rocky
ridge himself and pressed his full body against the stone. Geordi
slithered up next to him and Crusher got to the ground. Chewie did his
best to remain as small as possible, but Threepio did little to disguise
his presence.
The group had been walking for only less than an hour since they
left the Falcon and had not covered much ground. But it appeared that Han
was wrong--there was another Imperial sentry group was camped, and not far
from where they last crossed paths with stormtroopers.
"Do they know weUre here?" Geordi asked.
Han studied the group a moment. The stormtroopers were holding out
in a small open valley with high points on all sides. There were a dozen
or so troopers, all heavily armed but not on alert. A portable computer
station was set up against one rock wall. It was obvious that they were
not expecting any trouble. Han remembered that blasters were mandatory
issue at all times. They really did not know that they were here.
"No," Han said finally, "I don't think they know we're here. And
it appears they didn't hear our friend over there attack us. I think
they're waiting around for something, probably that group we ran into
earlier."
"Any sign of our crewmen?" Crusher asked.
Geordi scanned the area, then shook his head. "The only life signs
I read are the stormtroopers. But these rocks are messing around with my
readings."
"That's okay," Han said. "They aren't here. The Empire doesn't
have them."
"What do you mean?" Crusher asked. "Then who does?"
Han shook his head. "I don't know. But it isn't these guys. This
valley is open to every kind of sneak attack or ambush. They have no
defensive position here. And that console there." He indicated the
computer that several soldiers were standing around. "That's a tracker
system, used in hunting game. They tag animals and hunt them later.
Certain ones have more value. These guys aren't hunting anything that
might hunt them."
"Then who are those men?" Threepio asked, pointing to the squad of
stormtroopers coming up from the right ridge.
"Hey! You over there!" A stormtrooper shouted at them. "Drop that
blaster!"
Chewie fired his bowcaster and a stormtrooper fell. The troopers
returned fire.
"Great, you hairy oaf," Han shouted. "Now we've got a whole
squadron after us."
A blast struck the rock Han was leaning against. It shattered and
Han lost his balance. He slid and tumbled headfirst down the rock wall. an
avalanche of dust and rocks followed him down and his head and arms
scraped against the rocks. He came to a stop at the bottom of the canyon
and at the feet of a dozen stormtroopers.
He eyes winched from all the dust, but he managed to focus a group
of stormtrooper boots. His gaze followed up their legs, past their armor
plating, to their menacing stares. Then Han noticed the guns they had.
They were only tracer rifles, to mark their prey with a small pellet.
Han smiled devilishly. He slowly stood, defying the stormtroopers.
He looked at them, reached for his blaster, and felt the empty holster.
His smile faded to shocked horror. His blaster was up on the ridge with
the stormtroopers.
He gave them his best sabaac-faced smile, turned, and scampered
back up the ridge. The stormtroopers bashed him with the butt of their
rifles and others grabbed at him with their hands and dragged Solo back to
the ground.
On the ridge, Chewie, Crusher, and LaForge were holding off the
hunting party. Threepio was flailing about wildly, trying not to get shot.
In the canyon, Han fought his way to the top of the pile. His hair
was messed up, his lip bloody, clothes torn, and several red feathered
pellets were sticking in his body, marking him for later hunting.
"Chewie!" he shouted frantically. "I need some help down here!"
Chewbacca peered over the edge of the ridge and shook his head
negatively.
"Get down here!" Han shouted more sternly this time. A
stormtrooper grabbed his forehead and dragged him back into the parry.
Chewie blasted another stormtrooper, stood, and charged the edge
of the ridge. Threepio was standing on the ledge, and as Chewie leaped off
the ridge, Threepio was knocked down with him. Chewie fanned out his body
and appeared as a huge hairy carpet coming to lay over the fight. He
bellowed a huge roar as he seemed to hover in the air for a moment, then
landed hard on the mess of stormtroopers. Threepio tipped over and fell
clumsily over the edge and landed on top of a couple of stormtroopers.
Chewie was enough to turn the tide of the skirmish. He grabbed
stormtroopers by the neck and tossed them about the small canyon like rag
dolls. He smashed two faces together and used their limb bodies as clubs
to beat other troopers. Han was having a difficult time dodging Chewie's
attacks.
Han called up to the ridge, "Make sure no one gets away! We don't
want any more people joining our party."
Geordi peered over the ridge at Han to check on his situation, but
a reading on his VISOR pulled his attention away. Something was emerging
from the rocks, something that was hidden from their sensors because of
the rocks. Geordi froze for a second.
"Han," he stammered. "I think we have bigger things to worry
about."
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Amarak
Jean-Luc Picard had been sitting in his ready room for quite some timeQin
fact, he had lost complete track of how long it wasQmentally pacing back
and forth, but in actuality only sitting uncomfortably on his couch
looking for inspiration in his complete collection of Shakespeare.
So far nothing had helped.
After a while he got restless and was about to check whether or
not he had contact with his Away Teams yet, even though he knew the
officers on duty would have paged him the moment they received word.
He was about to start towards the door when he heard the door
chime.
RCome,S Picard said automatically.
To his surprise, Dr. Direidri stood at the door, a coy grin on her
face. She was clutching a datapad to her chest, as if hiding girlishly
behind it.
RCan I help you, Doctor?S Picard said.
RIUm sure you can, Captain,S she said and stepped through the
doorway. The door slid shut behind her, trapping Picard in the ready room
with her. RBut right now, thereUs something I can do for you.S
Picard forced a diplomatic smile and offered her a seat. He took
his time settling himself behind his desk before he looked back up at her
again. Picard figured she could provide another diversion to keep him from
thinking about his endangered Away Teams. RIUm all yours,S Picard said,
and regretted it the moment he said it. RErQgive me what youUve got.S Dr.
Direidri chuckled. Picard clenched his eyes shut. RJustIS he started and
suddenly wished he were on the Borg ship, RIspeak.S
RCaptain Picard, I want to thank you for taking time to see me,S
Dr. Direidri began. RIt means a great deal that you would drop everything
that youUre doing to speak to me.S
Picard nodded her on.
RWhat I wanted to speak with you about is very important.S Dr.
Direidri relaxed herself and leaned back in her chair, trying to appear as
nonchalant as possible, as though what she were about to say was only
vaguely of interest to her. RI know how we can get back home.S
The mountain seemed to come alive for a moment and Han Solo stopped what
he was doing and stared. HeUd seen huge ugly creatures beforeQhe used to
smuggle for Jabba the HuttQbut never one this size before. It was
literally the size of the rocky structures around them, covered in moss
and plant life. ItUs skin looked slimy as it claws ripped the rocks apart,
the slime smeared across the terrain.
After a moment, the stormtroopers noticed the creature and stopped
fighting. They stared disbelievingly before opening fire on the creature.
Lasers fired from every direction but did not seem to penetrate the
creatureUs skin. The fire only served to aggravate the creature further,
and his claws lashed out at the firing stormtroopers.
RCome on Chewie,S Han said, RletUs get out of here.S
Chewie roared and watched with horror as the creature tossed a
screaming stormtrooper in its mouth and chomped down his powerful jaws.
RGeordi! Crusher!S Han shouted to the Starfleet officers on the
canyon ridge. RFind something to pull us out of here!S
Dr. Crusher fired her phaser at the creature. It had little
effect. Geordi looked around for some rope or vine to lower down. But
besides the plants growing on the moist creature, there was very little
vegetation. RThereUs nothing up here!S he called back down to Han.
RGreat.S Han shoved a stormtrooper away from him. RChewie, hoist
me up on your shoulders.S
Chewbacca grabbed Han by the waist and effortlessly raised him
over his shoulders. LaForge was there, reaching for HanUs arm. He grabbed
HanUs wrist. RIUve got you,S he said and dragged him on to the ridge.
RThanks.S Han scrambled around for his blaster. He found it and
fired a few shots at the creature. RLetUs get Chewie and Threepio up here
and use this creature as cover for our escape.S The stormtroopers were
busy fighting for their lives against the creature. A few of them from the
squadron on top of the ridge abandoned their men. "Chewie can jump up
here, but somehow we've got to get Threepio.
The Threepio's cries inverted their attention. "Oh no! The slimy
brute has got me!" Threepio shouted. The creature had his claws wrapped
around ThreepioUs waist and was about to bite down on him.
Han aimed his blaster at the creature's head, hoping to hit a
tender area. Crusher and Geordi concentrated their phasers on the
creature's arm. But nothing was having much effect when the creatureUs arm
suddenly fell off and it and Threepio thudded to the ground. The
creatureUs cries of pain echoed throughout the mountains.
"What happened?" Han asked, looking at Geordi for answers.
Before Geordi could respond the answer presented itself from
behind the hills. Three dozen crusty skinned soldiers in body armor
emerged, blasting away at the stormtroopers and the moss creature.
"Down! It's the Karn!" Han shouted. He dove behind a rock with
Geordi, and Crusher ducked for cover herself. Laser fire decimated the
troops. The wounded creature thundered away his cries still resounding in
the distance. Han risked a glance as the lasers ceased. The remaining few
stormtroopers were surrendering but Han couldn't see Chewbacca anywhere
and Han didn't want to admit to himself that he could be dead too.
Geordi and Crusher tentatively emerged from hiding. Suddenly
Crusher stood up and shouted, "Chief O'Brien!"
The chief looked up on the ridge. "Doctor!" he shouted back. "Are
you all right?"
"Yes, we're fine. How about you?"
"Bit of a broken leg, I'm afraid, Doctor," O'Brien said,
indicating the splint on his leg. Ensign Tellamuck was standing behind
him, none the worse for wear.
"Hey, Chief," Geordi said, standing up.
"Commander. Did the captain send the lot of you after us or what?"
"Just us and Solo," Geordi answered. "How did you get rid of that
creature?"
"It was a molecule-thin string," O'Brien explained. "It can slice
through almost anything. One of the Karn's toys."
"Well, thanks for bailing us out," Geordi said.
Han was only vaguely regarding their exchange. His attention was
centered on Chewbacca and the demure woman hugging him, almost lost in his
fur. "Leia," he whispered. He scrambled to his feet. "Leia!" he shouted.
The princess looked up at him.
"Glad you could make it, fly boy."
Han slid down the canyon wall. "What's going on? What happened to
you guys? Why are you with the Karn?"
Leia laughed. "Slow down. Let me explain. Han, this is Amarak."
She indicated the Karn next to her. He had a tough expression, and a
reptilian complexion to match. Patched-together body armor covered most of
him but left his face free. "Amarak, this is Captain Solo."
Amarak merely nodded at Han. Solo did likewise.
"The mayday we received said that these guys shot you down," Han
said, not trying to hide the disdain in his voice. Amarak didn't have a
reaction.
"Well, that's true," Leia said, "but it was an accident."
"An accident? How does someone accidentally shoot down a shuttle?"
"We thought the shuttle was an Imperial escape vessel," Amarak
explained. His voice was grainy and hoarse.
"And when they discovered the wreckage," Leia continued, Rthey
realized we werenUt with the Empire. After some coaxing, anyway."
"But the Karn don't side with anyone," Han said.
"Normally true," Amarak responded. "We have never wanted to be a
part of your war. But the Empire has recently conquered this area and
hunted down our people. The set up a base on Cassax where they could
squander the natural resources and enslave my people. Since then, we have
fought against the Galactic Empire. Still, we do not wish to be a part of
the war."
"You may have little choice," Han said. "From what you say, with
the Empire in the area, and you rebelling, they'll label you part of the
alliance and work to eliminate you."
"The Empire is a major threat no longer," Amarak said.
"What?" Leia shouted incredulously, louder than she had wished.
"You got rid of them?"
"No, Princess Leia. Another has taken care of the Empire."
"Who?"
"A giant monolith from the sky came down and wiped them from the
earth."
"The Borg," Crusher piped in.
"Where is this base?" Leia asked.
"On Cassax. It is the fourth planet from here."
Leia lowered her eyes solemnly to the ground a moment before
looking back up at Amarak. "Please. Take me to Cassax."
"So now we must find a way to recreate those conditions," Picard said and
settled back in his chair. Dr. Direidri set herself to be adorned with the
captain's praises now that she was finished explaining her findings to
him, excluding, of course, her future paper on the subject and subsequent
fame. Here was where all the hard work paid off.
"Doctor, I need you to find a way to recreate the variables that
activated the temporal space rift," Picard said. "There should be
sufficient mass in the area, what with the Enterprise, the Empire and the
Borg. So you need to create seismic activity of the same magnitude and the
same location in relation to the rift. WeUll need exact numbers, so study
the conditions that brought us here for absolute certainty. Without
Commander LaForge or Commander Data, weUre short-staffed and I need you to
work that problem out yourself."
Direidri opened and closed her mouth, words unable to come out. No
praises, no congratulations, no thanks, just more work. She was stunned.
Picard continued. "I'll see if I can spare anyone from Engineering
to help you, but with the current situation I need all the people I can
get."
Direidri sat there, staring blankly at Picard. His face was an
interesting study. A weight seemed to be lifted off his shoulders, but
still his face was twisted in consternation. He really was troubled. She
suddenly felt guilty for indulging in her fantasies and delusions of
grandeur. This was Picard's way of rewarding her hard work, by giving her
more work to do. It meant he trusted her abilities to solve the problem,
and put the fate of the entire crew on her shoulders.
Direidri's face twisted in consternation. She suddenly felt what
it was like to be the captain of a starship, in charge of over a thousand
lives, governing over planets and armies and whoever they encounter.
This wasn't fun anymore.
Chapter Thirty
Bits and Pieces
The Borg ship gathered bits and rubble from the destroyed Imperial ships,
and right before Captain Darok's eyes, and the ship repaired itself just
as quickly as they damaged it. This had been going on for over an hour,
but Darok was still in awe of the power and resourcefulness of their
enemy.
Darok had his entire crew slaving over the repairs of his ship,
the Executor, so they could finally join the battle. Right now it was no
more than a sitting duck waiting for its turn against the hunter.
"Captain, turbolasers are back on line, sir," a crewman reported.
"Finally," Darok breathed. "What about shields?"
The crewman noticeably winced. "Negative, sir," he answered.
"It does not matter," Vader said. Darok spun around to see the
dark lord step onto the bridge. There was a renewed sense of awe coming
from the crew. Despite the Borg's accomplishments, they were still not
nearly as threatening or fearful as Darth Vader.
"We will pull the ship to the left flank, out of its path, and
hold there," Vader continued.
Darok wanted very much to protest this, and he would have if it
were to anyone else but Vader. Instead, he nervously motioned for the crew
to comply with Vader's orders.
The Executor moved into position. The crew collectively held its
breath as they watched the Borg ship for any sign that it would suddenly
break away from its present course and, attracted by the shipUs move in
position, lash out at the lame cruiser.
"Closer," Vader ordered. The bridge was silent. The air hung heavy
throughout the room. Slowly, the ship crept closer to the behemoth cube.
It didnUt look like the ship was going to stop, that it would crash into
the side of the cube. At such a slow speed, such an impact would hardly
damage the Borg and completely obliterate the Executor.
Darok peered at Vader from the corner of his eye, careful not to
turn his head and stare. He couldnUt figure out what Vader was planning,
but he did know that, what ever it was, he didn't like.
"Stop," Vader finally ordered. The ship wheezed to a stationary
position.
"All stop, lord," a crewman responded from the pit.
Still there was silence as the crew awaited Vader's next order.
Vader seemed to be only vaguely aware of the crewUs presence on the
bridge. He was lost in concentration.
"Captain Darok, I want a concentration of fire on a fixed point,"
he said. "I need a breach in their shields without lowering their whole
defenses."
Darok's face twisted. "I don't understand. Why don't we want them
defenseless?"
"We do not want the defenseless right now," Vader said in a tone
of voice that said that was all that was going to be discussed on the
matter.
"Yes, my lord." Darok addressed the crew and made the necessary
provisions. After a few minutes the preparations were made.
"Lord Vader, everything is set."
Vader said nothing. Darok waited as Vader's deep breathing filled
the bridge. It was eery the way the manUs presence could be felt
throughout a room without him even doing anything. He raised his chin and
appeared to stare out the window at the Borg ship. Something about the
stature and body language of Darth Vader told Captain Darok that the Jedi
was ready for anything. Vader said simply, "Fire at will, Captain."
Will Riker woke up. Through bleary eyes he tried to make out what was in
front of him. His first instinct was to sigh as he found a familiar
humanoid form. His second instinct was to scream as his eyes focused on
the familiar form of a Borg.
He jolted up sitting upright on the cold metal slab he had been
lying on. His movement didn't disturb the Borg whose back was turned.
Riker held still. He didn't want to attract any attention, but he risked
gazing about the room.
The walls were a mishmash of grey wiring and piping, with controls
and every part of the wall. White electric light peered through the
cutouts in the walls. A cold, detached atmosphere permeated the room. They
were definitely still on the Borg ship, but Riker had never explored this
section of the ship. Riker had the haunting suspicion that Captain Picard
had visited a similar room on another Borg ship months back when they
assimilated him into the Borg spokesman Locutus.
The Borg moved forward. It clinked and whirred as it moved. A door
paneling slid up to reveal a catwalk. There the Borg joined two others and
the three continued left down the walkway.
Riker sighed. At least he didn't have to worry about that one for
the moment. He looked next to him. There were four metal slabs in the
room. He was on the farthest left one. Next to him Worf lay silently,
still unconscious. The other two slabs were empty. Riker grudgingly
remembered what had happened. Luke and Data were gone, possibly dead or
already assimilated. But at least he'd finally caught up with Worf. Riker
remembered his broken wrist and gingerly touched it. It screamed with
pain, but he had to ignore it. They had to figure a way to save their
crewmen and get off the ship.
An electronic whistle startled Riker. He nearly leapt off the bed
and took a defensive posture. There was another electronic whine.
"Artoo," Riker breathed. His nerves were getting the best of him.
The droid was confined by metal clamps fastened to his legs.
Artoo whined to be set free.
"I don't understand," Riker said, shaking his head. He grimaced as
the lump on the back of his neck throbbed. He turned back to Worf. "I'll
wake up Worf and we'll get you free," Riker told Artoo and stepped over to
the slab where Worf lay.
Numerous cuts and abrasions scarred WorfUs face, and a patch of
lavender Klingon blood covered his forehead from a deep gash. "Mr. Worf,"
Riker said. He nudged the Klingon with his good hand. Worf jerked awake,
immediately ready to disembowel any enemy. His eyes drained of their
fierceness as quickly as it appeared.
"Commander?" Worf said. He was disoriented, but quickly adapted to
the situation like a warrior.
"Come on, we have to hurry. I don't know when the Borg are coming
back." They moved over to Artoo and tried to get the clamps off.
Worf glanced around the room, trying to find something. "Where is
Commander Data?"
"I don't know," Riker said as he worked. "We lost contact with
you, so Luke and I beamed over but we were overpowered."
Worf looked disturbed. He remembered how Picard had been captured
by the Borg right under their nose, right off the bridge of the
Enterprise. Worf refused to let that happen again. "We must find the
Commander," he said at length, with a deep sense of determination.
"We will," Riker said. "And Skywalker."
Worf nodded. "Yes, of course."
Riker struggled with prying the restraints loose and got
frustrated. He didn't want to try to access the computer controls for fear
of alerting the Borg.
"Let me," Worf said. He positioned himself in front of Artoo,
gripped the clamps as tightly as possible, and pulled with all his
strength. He grit his teeth, a growl rumbling inside him. Every muscle
rippled and shook as Worf pulled and tugged and yanked. The clamps gave
way and ripped off in his hands.
"Good job," Riker said. He turned to Artoo. "Everything okay?"
Artoo whistled a response. Riker didn't know what he said, but he just
assumed it was a good response. It didn't sound bad.
Riker stood and headed for the door. He motioned for Artoo to open
the door by accessing the controls. They would undoubtedly attract the
Borg's attention now, but they didn't have much choice. "We've got to find
the others, and somehow get back to the Enterprise."
Artoo extended his computer interface arm and accessed the Borg
controls, trying to open the door and locate the others.
Worf and Riker searched the room for some weapons to fight the
Borg with. Worf pulled a Klingon d'k tahg knife from concealment in his
tunic that the Borg overlooked. Riker's eyes went wide when he noticed the
knife.
"I see you have a backup," he said. Worf just nodded agreement.
Artoo found the access for the door and the panel slid open. The
droid elicited excited bleeps and clicks. "Good job, Artoo," Riker said.
"Come on." Riker noticed ArtooUs tone was not one of overjoyed excitement,
but nervous excitement. He didn't have time to register that that--they
had friends to save.
Then the ship rocked and Riker was tossed to the floor.
"Concentrate fire," Vader ordered. He stood with fists clenched before the
bridge view, feeling the Force flow through him. Vader's intensity was
felt by everyone in the crew.
The ships lasers had broken through the Borg shields, breaching
the defensive system and pounding into the hull of the ship. Darok was
proud of their achievement, but more fearful of what Vader had planned.
As the Executor fired, Vader was probing the minds of the Borg and
found one with enough of a mind for Vader to control. The Borg turned to
the controls at his right, and glided expertly through the controls. Vader
guided the Borg through complex logarithms and equations which he poured
into the collective system. All the necessary provisions were implemented.
Vader held on with the Force and implanted in the Borg collective the
simple word, Energize.
Chapter Thirty-One
Vader's Ghost
Vader's form shimmered on the bridge. Captain Darok could suddenly see
through the dark lord's jetblack cape and body, and saw the Borg ship and
countless Imperial fighters engaging it in battle.
"What's going on?" he shouted, his mouth hung open. The crew were
as dumbfounded as he was.
Even in his non corporeal form, Vader spoke. "Cease fire," he
said. It took a moment for the weapons officer to realize what Vader said,
but then quickly deactivated the forward lasers.
Darok didn't know what to do. His first instinct was to run, to
get the ship the hell away from the Borg. But his morbid curiosity won
outQhe had to know what Darth Vader was doing.
"I am transporting myself to the Borg ship," Vader answered. "The
Emperor's prize is on that ship."
Darok didnUt realize that Vader could hear him in that state. With
the shields breached and the lasers stopped, Vader could transport through
the Borg shields to the ship. Darok hadn't heard anything about the
Emperor's prize, but he knew that the Emperor had a personal message for
Vader earlier, and that surely had something to do with it. Questioning
Vader's motives was one thing; questioning the EmperorUs was another.
Once on the ship, Vader could confront Luke Skywalker. He was
nearly over to the ship. The transportation was difficult because Vader
did not really know how it worked. He was unfamiliar with the technology
and had to rely ion the BorgUs knowledge, and tried his best to control
that.
Vader could see the inside of the ship. He was materializing in a
room of piping and electronics. He was surprised to see three figures, two
officers from the the Rebels new ship, and an R2 unit. Vader was
completely transported yet. He appeared more like a ghost on both the Borg
ship and the bridge of the Executor.
Riker sat on the floor and stared at the black form materializing before
him. Worf gripped his blade and Artoo's head twirled around nervously.
"What's he doing here?" Riker asked. Artoo beeped back an
unintelligible response.
Worf growled, but Riker held him back. "We can't do anything until
he materializes." They watched and it seemed to take forever. "He isn't
doing this right. He must have the Borg beaming him here. It's taking him
a long time because he doesn't know how to control the transporter. He
breached the shields to get here because he doesn't know the Borg can
transport through shields." He turned to the others. "I think it's best
weUre not here when he arrives."
Artoo whirred in protest and refused to budge. "What are you
doing?" Riker asked. "Come on."
"We can stand and fight," Worf offered. It was evident that was
his preferred option.
"From what Princess Leia has said about him, we wouldn't stand a
chance," Riker said. "Darth Vader has some force that we don't understand.
WeUre lucky we're not dead yet, from what I hear. He's probably too busy
concentrating beaming aboard."
Artoo beeped excitedly. "What is it?" Riker asked. He didn't have
to wait for the droid's response. In front of them, Vader's apparitional
form dissipated and he no longer stood before them. "Artoo, you broke the
connection?" he asked excitedly. Artoo beeped affirmative. "He tapped into
the Borg system and shut down the transporter."
"With luck, he scattered his atoms all over the galaxy," Worf said
dryly. Riker looked at him. It was difficult to tell if Worf were kidding.
"Come on. The Borg have got to know weUve escaped by now."
Artoo disconnected from the wall panel. He extended his third leg
and rolled out into the hall.
"Where is he going?" Worf asked.
They quickly followed him. "Wait," Riker called. Artoo continued
on ahead and turned down a corridor. Worf watched for Borg as they pursued
the droid. Around the corner Artoo had stopped at a wall. He extended his
arm and accessed the panel. A slick black drawer slid out, revealing three
phasers, three comm badges, and a lightsaber.
"Great," Riker said and gripped the phaser in his hand, holding
his shattered wrist against his torso. "This is going to help." He
fastened his insignia on his tunic and pressed it with the back of his
hand. "Riker to Enterprise."
Captain Darok stared. He didnUt know what else to do. It wasnUt everyday
you saw a man disappear. Even a Jedi. Agreeably, Darok was not an expert
in the abilities of the Jedi and their mastery of the Force, but he had
never even heard of people disappearing. But it wasnUt quickly. After all,
for several seconds Darok could see through Darth Vader, as though he were
a ghost or a hologram. But he had completely disappeared. He was no longer
on the ship.
And when Vader reappeared on the ship, Darok was no less
astonished. It looked as though all of Vader's atoms were split apart,
that he lost all cohesive form, and came back together again. Darok could
only stand there and stare.
Vader, completely materialized, was not happy. "The plan did not
succeed," he said simply. "We will destroy the Borg ship." He turned to
Darok who quickly attempted to wipe the expression of astonishment from
his face. "Pull back to prepare attack plan," he ordered.
"Yes, my lord."
"I will speak with Grand Moff Thrush about readying the Death
Star. I want a plan and I want the Borg ship and everything on it
destroyed."
"You spoke of the Emperor's prize, my lord," Darok asked.
"I said, everything on it destroyed."
"Captain to the bridge."
The announcement came over Picard's comm badge. He was sitting in
his ready room looking over the information Dr. Direidri had left with him
about their situation. He stepped onto the bridge.
"Report," he said.
Lieutenant Jacobs got out of the captain's chair and stepped
aside. "We've received a message from Commander Riker aboard the Borg
ship, sir."
Picard took his place on the bridge, for comfortable familiarity
more than anything. "Number One, are you there?"
"Yes, Captain."
"What's happening? We lost contact with you, and I'm afraid we
lost the Occam."
"And Ensign Blake?"
"I'm afraid not," Picard said solemnly.
"Luke and I transported over to the ship when we lost Data and
Worf. I've found Worf and the droid, but we think the Borg have Luke and
Data."
"Did you implement the 'sleep' command?"
"It didn't work. We think Darth Vader might have intervened. He
tried beaming over but Artoo tapped into the Borg system and stopped the
process."
"Somehow we need to get you back over here." Picard thought a
moment. "We can't risk another shuttle in these conditions. The Borg are
likely to destroy it as a threat considering your situation, and the
Empire would fire without thinking. The only option is to bring the
Enterprise in and beam you over ourselves."
"With all due respect, Captain, you can't risk the safety of the
ship."
"Nonsense, Number One. The five of you may provide our only key to
stopping the Borg and restoring the balance that we upset in this galaxy.
And without you, we may not be able to get home."
"But we need to find Commander Data and Skywalker."
Picard nodded. "Agreed. We'll protect you from the Empire long
enough for you to find them. Make it quick, Number One. We don't have much
time."
Chapter Thirty-Two
In Memory of Cassax
Leia looked through the viewport of the Millennium Falcon. She could not
hide the disgust on her face. The view brought back horrible images of the
destruction of Alderaan, the destruction of her home. Though this damage
was less extensive, it was no less horrific.
The landscape was completely barren of any type of vegetation,
though in the distance patches of trees were visible, untouched by the
horror. Giant cubed craters were dug out of the land, stretching down a
mile or more into the planetUs crust. The area before them was gutted yet
strewn with fallen Imperial structures and several crushed bodies. Some
stormtroopers appeared to have fallen into the newly-excavated canyons.
Dust wafted through the atmosphere and the sense of death could be felt in
the Falcon cockpit, sending shivers down everyoneUs spine.
"If seen enough," Leia said as she turned away. Han and Chewbacca
were at the helm of the Falcon. Geordi, Dr. Crusher, Leia, and Amarak were
standing or sitting behind them, all eyes glued at the scene of
destruction.
"The Borg will do this again," Geordi said. "This is what they do,
they assimilate cultures and technology. They are not malicious about it,
they just do it."
"And next time it could be you," Crusher said to Amarak.
The Karn fighter pilot stood, silently viewing what was left of
the Cassax outpost.
"Do you see what weUre up against?" Leia asked him. "Do you see
why we need your help? I know you've said that you didn't want to get
involved. Trust us, if the Alliance knew that your people were being
enslaved, we would have come to rescue them long ago. And right now we can
help each other."
Still, Amarak merely stood and stared. After a long moment of
silence he spoke. His voice was barely audible, soft and intense despite
the grainy quality. "Do you see those people lying out there, broken
bodies strewn across a raped landscape? Those are my people." It became
more evident that many of the dead were Karns without the armor, chained
to the ground. "That is what your war has done to my people. And I will
not allow it to go on further." He turned his face Leia. "I will join your
battle, if to wreak vengeance for the dead over anything. After that," he
paused and looked away from her, "I promise you nothing."
"Thank you, Amarak." Leia glanced at the chronometer. "It's too
late to rendez-vous with the Alliance. We'll have to take the Karn fleet
with us and hope it's enough. Han, bring her down and let's go back to the
Enterprise."
Picard surveyed the crewmen on the bridge. Ro was at Conn,
Lieutenant-Junior Grade Jacobs at Ops, Ensign Medina at Tactical, and Troi
was seated next to him. She didn't have any command experience, but he
realized that if they got into any tough scrapes, heUd rely on her most of
all.
Troi glanced over at Picard and her eyes told him she understood
what he was feeling. Picard did his best not to react.
"Okay people, we have some crewmen aboard that Borg ship and we
need to buy them some time. Our job is to make sure the Imperial ships
don't damage the Borg until our crewmen are safely back on board the
Enterprise. Understood."
It wasn't a question. The crew were noticeably nervous, but kept
their heads remarkably well. They just nodded at Picard's speech.
"Ensign Ro," he ordered, "take us to forty-mark-oh-nine-eight."
"Moving into position at forty-mark-oh-nine-eight," she responded.
"Ensign Medina, what is the weapons situation?"
"Phaser banks at 70 percent. We have eight photon torpedoes
remaining. Shields at 95 percent."
Picard nodded. He still felt uneasy being around the Borg ship.
The sight was certainly awesome. A single ship like this had decimated 39
ships, and here the Enterprise was going between it and an entire armada
of ships from the Empire. It was a suicide mission, he knew. But when it
came to the Borg, every mission was a suicide mission. The object was not
to let it be his suicide.
"Coming into position, Captain," Ro reported. She steered the
Enterprise in between the warring ships.
"Prepare for trouble," he said.
Darok needed time to think. Vader left to organize an attack, but that
left the Executor a sitting duck, open for an attack by the Borg. They
needed to pull away.
"Pull back," he ordered. The ship crept back from the Borg, while
Darok hoped they wouldn't attract the Borg's attention.
Darok went over to tactical to find out how many Imperial ships
were still active. They were all encircling the Death Star as they send
squadrons of TIE fighters after the Borg. Darok calculated a strategy of
his own in his head. They were going to need a miracle to get out of here.
The problem facing the Empire now was that their two most
effective weapons were basically inoperable. The Executor was in need of
several weeks of repairs to even be considered space worthy and the Death
Star was still not operational. Darok did not envy Moff Thrush. Even if he
did get the Death Star up and running, the Emperor would still have his
head. The Emperor expected results, and the problem was, the Empire was
not getting much in the way of them lately. They had allowed a single
ship, albeit huge and impenetrable as it was, to devastate much of the
Empire's grand fleet, making them ripe for a takeover by the Alliance.
Suddenly a light flashed that filled the whole bridge window and
blinded Darok. "What the hell was that?" he shouted and the ship whined an
answer. Everything turned upside down and sideways, and Darok was sent
teetering over the edge into the pit. He landed awkwardly on his left arm.
Darok looked up at the window. The Borg ship had altered course,
so quickly the crew didn't have time to report, and was unleashing phasers
on the Executor. Without shields, they didn't stand a few more seconds
with hits like that.
Smoke and flames filled the bridge forcing Darok to cough. Crewmen
were tapped under a shower of sparks and debris.
"Tactical, lock forward canons on their weapons!" he ordered. "We
won't last a few seconds at this rate."
The forward lasers fired on the Borg. The shields absorbed the
blasts, but after a second the concentration was enough for the lasers to
penetrate the shields. The phasers exploded in a cloud of fire.
Darok stood up. His arm throbbed with pain. It felt like his
shoulder were pulled out of its socket. He clutched his arm to his side
and gritted away the pain. He was standing in the pit and had to look up
to see out the window. The whole ship was on fire and controls were going
haywire. The Executor had ceased firing after destroying the Borg's
weapons. Darok stared at the Borg.
For several seconds neither ship did anything. The Borg hadn't
fired more than the first attack. Darok couldn't figure it out. They
didn't have any shields, they weren't as equipped and resourceful as the
Borg. Why didn't the Borg finish them?
He decided he wasn't going to give them time to worry about it.
"Aim all canons and firepower on that spot," he ordered through clenched
teeth. His face was battered and bloody. His immaculate uniform was torn
and smoky. "Let's blow them all to hell."
The Super Star Destroyer Executor unleashed its firepower on the Borg
ship. Much of the blast was absorbed by the Borg's shields but the lasers
overpowered and penetrated the shields to strike the cube.
Captain Picard watched the battle waging before them. A part of
him was insanely glad to see someone decimating the Borg. But there was
another side to him that knew it wasn't right. His crewmen were on board
that ship. He couldn't stand by and watch them get killed because of
revenge. The Empire's fleet posed a sizable problem, each ship a worthy
opponent for the Enterprise. As much as it pained him to admit it to
himself, he had to protect the Borg ship from the Empire long enough to
rescue his crewmen.
Picard wondered why the Borg were not retaliating. Something was
going on over there, and he needed to buy Riker the time to figure out
what.
"Ensign Ro, set intercept course for the Star Destroyer," Picard
ordered.
"Aye, sir."
The Enterprise moved towards the warring ships. Neither ship
reacted to their advance. Picard had to get their attention.
"Fire a warning shot at the Imperials."
A phaser lashed out and lanced across the Executor's bow. It did
not connect with the ship, but the Star Destroyer ceased firing. With the
fighting halted, the Enterprise slid into position between the two ships.
The Enterprise was open to an attack from either side. If the Executor
decided to continue its pursuit of the Borg, they would have to go through
the Enterprise. Picard wasn't sure how the crew or the ship could handle
such an attack. The Executor was a battleship, the Enterprise an
exploration vessel, both the pride of their fleet. Either way, if the
Executor attacked, many people would die on both sides.
The Executor pulled back. It eased away with its guns aimed at the
Enterprise almost daring the Enterprise to follow. Picard didn't take the
bait. The Empire was not who he wanted. He was responsible for allowing
the Borg to come to this galaxy and corrupt it. He needed to eliminate the
influence and their own. The Empire was a matter for the natives to
handle.
Picard kept the Enterprise in position as the Executor rejoined
the Imperial fleet orbiting the Death Star. Ensign Medina let out a sigh.
Ro gave her a deadly glare, but Picard just turned to the woman at
Tactical and said, "My sentiments exactly."
The Borg ship suddenly breathed back to life and started forward.
With the Borg, movements were always mechanical. It looked as though a
timer went off and signaled the Borg to advance. And they were advancing
toward the Death Star and the fleet of Star Destroyers protecting it.
"Forward at half impulse," Picard ordered. "Keep in step with the
Borg." He tugged on his tunic and sat cross legged in his chair with his
right hand to his chin. "We're not out of this yet."
Chapter Thirty-Three
Corridors
"What's going on out there?" Riker asked. They had been tossed about the ship
during the violent movements caused by the lasers of the Executor.
"We must be careful not to get too near the edges of the ship where they
sustain the most damage," Worf warned.
Artoo-Detoo was spinning around in circles eliciting excited whoops and
whistles. Riker and Worf merely stood in the intersection of the corridor on
the Borg ship exchanging confused glances. There was no universal translator
decoding of Artoo's language. Data had managed to get a good idea what he was
saying, even Skywalker could get a sense of his mood. But neither Riker nor
Worf knew what to make of it.
"Think he's trying to tell us something?" Riker asked dumbly.
"Perhaps we should follow him to see where he goes," Worf offered.
"Good idea. Sitting out here won't do us any good. Maybe Artoo knows
something."
Worf snarled and rolled his eyes. "We can hope," he said.
Riker motioned Artoo on. The droid came out of his spin and carried on more
or less down the side corridor. He veered to the right and had to correct his
path to keep from running into the wall, and he wobbled down the corridor.
Riker and Worf trotted behind him.
They did not run into any Borg. The corridors were remarkably barren. In
Riker's experience, there were normally several Borg walking about the ship,
even if they paid little to no attention to their visitors. He found it
disconcerting to find the corridors abandoned. The Borg in the area of the
ship must have been preoccupied.
"We've got to move quickly," he remarked to Worf as they ran along behind
Artoo. "Notice how no Borg are walking around. No one was alerted when Artoo
tapped into their system. They must know we've escaped, they're just busy.
They might all be with Data and Skywalker. There could be dozens of them and
they'll adapt quickly to our weapons."
Worf nodded. "Agreed."
"Then let's get in and out of there as fast as we can. And any new way of
disabling them you happen to come up with, don't hesitate to try it."
They navigated through several long and short corridors before Artoo stopped
in front of a black wall panel. To the untrained eye all the walls and doors
looked identical on the ship, just a jumbled mass of metal plates, controls,
and connections, although they were actually very specific complex
machinations. The smoky black wall panel was similar to nearly every door on
the ship.
Artoo beeped, indicating the door. "They're in there?" Riker asked. They had
no way of knowing without going inside. He looked at Worf. The Klingon was in
a battle stance, ready to hunt whatever was behind the door. "Are we ready?"
he asked.
Worf glanced over at Riker. Artoo bleeped. Riker gripped the phaser in his
hand and upped the power level to its highest setting. He noticed Worf's had
been there the whole time.
"Can you get the door open?" he asked Artoo. The droid answered by
interfacing with the wall circuits. Worf and Riker took position on opposite
sides of the door.
The panel slid up with a shush of air. Worf and Riker rolled into the room,
Riker covering the top of the doorway and Worf crouched low to take the low
offensive.
The room acted as a lobby to an extended corridor in the rear. It was thick
with Borg packing in all corners of the room. Several of them turned their
attention to the men infiltrating their sanctum, but most of the Borg were
oblivious to their presence. They aimed their weapon fixtures on their arms
at Worf and Riker.
Phaser fire erupted. Riker was firing as quickly and accurately as he could.
Worf picked off several Borg members who twisted and keeled over on the floor
before them.
"Data!" Riker bellowed as he carefully aimed. He used the wall as a shield
to dodge the Borg's return fire. There was no response to his hail.
Worf managed to use the fallen Borg as cover and kept low to the ground. The
Borg did not adapt as quickly as they had in the past. There was definitely
something different about them.
The crowd thinned slightly. Most of the aggressive Borg had fallen and the
rest went about their activities. But there were still enough Borg to keep
Worf and Riker busy.
"Why aren't they adapting?" Riker asked. At that moment the Borg he was
firing on deflected the blast with a person shield.
Worf tossed his phaser aside and unsheathed his d'k tahg. In swift fluid
moments he sliced through the Borg connective wires. They twitched, their
servos twittering uncontrollably, and the mechanical soldiers collapsed to
the metal floor.
A Borg converged on Riker. He fired his phaser but it had no effect against
its shield. Riker was low on options. There were as many Borg on the ground
now as were fighting against them. He thought he might be able to use the
Borg weapon against them.
In the midst of the Borg Riker noticed several of them escorting a figure
past the corridor.
"Luke!" he shouted. Riker ducked as a Borg's phaser struck the wall above
his head. Through the flurry of fighting Riker saw the figure turn around.
Luke was struggling to get away from his escorts.
"Hey!" Luke shouted. He shoved at the Borg's arms, trying to break their
literal iron grip. "Riker! I'm back here!" They were at the end of the hall
and Luke managed to slow them down.
Riker took refuge behind the wall and turned to the droid. "Artoo, I need
you."
Artoo rolls into the line of fire but the phaser blasts directed at Riker
miraculously missed Artoo. He was forced to stop when he couldn't maneuver
through the fallen Borg. He whistled a message to Luke.
"Artoo!" Luke called back. They were disappearing around a corner.
Artoo opened a panel in his head. Nestled inside was Luke's lightsaber. A
launching mechanism fired the weapon into the air.
"Thanks, Artoo!" Luke reached out with the Force, guiding the projectile to
his waiting palm. Instead, the lightsaber dropped to the ground several feet
shy of him. It didn't work. Artoo groaned.
The Borg converged on the droid but Riker intercepted him. "Artoo, get out
of the way," Riker called. He grabbed the Borg's arm with his hands and
grappled with him for control.
Worf fended off several Borg with his blade, but he was battered around. He
growled, a hunter's fierceness in his eyes. The Borg were reacting and
adapting to Worf's attacks, but he was rapidly changing his techniques.
Artoo detracted his arc welder and jabbed into the Borg in front of him.
Luke saw his lightsaber being kicked around at the Borg's feet as they
fought. He was too flustered to concentrate on the Force. He wasn't ready for
this. He needed Ben's help. But first he had to help himself.
He couldn't loosen the Borg's grip, so Luke changed tactics. He grabbed the
Borg's arm and lunged to the floor towards his lightsaber, dragging the Borg
with him. The second Borg released his grip as the other and Luke fell to the
floor. The weight of the Borg and impact jarred Luke a moment, but he
scampered his hands across the floor, feeling for his lightsaber. He couldn't
see anything but the hulking body of the Borg on top of him. He let the Force
guide his hands.
His hand connected with the weapon. Luke brought it over his head, with both
hands pointed the handle at the Borg's head, and activated the stud. There
was a snap-hiss and a burst as the lightsaber activated through the Borg's
head.
Luke rolled away from under the dead Borg. He stood and regarded two Borg
facing him.
Let the Force guide your movements.
He closed his eyes, swung the lightsaber, spun around, and brought the
lightsaber around the other way in a complete circle. He opened his eyes and
the two Borg were sliced up and on the floor at his feet.
The others were struggling with their opponents. The Borg hadn't adapted to
the lightsaber yet so Luke took full advantage of the development. He sliced
his way over to Worf.
They backed up to each other.
"Glad to see a friendly face," Luke said as he deflected the Borg's fire
with his lightsaber. He glanced over at Worf who scowled as he slashed his
blade across a Borg's cheek.
"Where is Commander Data?" Worf asked. He lunged his blade into a Borg, and
it lodged there.
"I don't know what happened to him," Luke answered. "They just grabbed me as
soon as I came to and brought me by here." Luke sliced a Borg across the
midsection.
Riker wrestled with a Borg's arm and buckled under the strain. With a broken
wrist, he wasn't able to hold off the Borg's strength.
The Borg with the blade in his chest grabbed Worf by the shoulders and
effortlessly tossed his across the room. Worf slammed into the wall and
bounced back onto a pile of dead Borg.
"Worf!" Luke shouted. He turned and sliced the Borg's arm off.
Riker's opponent brought his free appendage down on Riker's next and he
collapsed to the ground. His body couldn't handle the extent of the fighting.
He wanted to alert the captain and beam them all over, but they had only
found Luke. They needed to find Data yet.
The Borg ceased fighting, stood upright, lowered their weapons, and froze.
Luke stopped and watched the enemy. "What's going on?" he asked.
Riker stood up and rubbed his neck. "I don't know." Worf was slower getting
up. Artoo rolled over to an immobile Borg and zapped him with his arc welder.
A small group of Borg appeared down the corridor and entered the room. At
the head of the group was Commander Data. He was out of uniform, outfitted in
a black breastplate. Wire connections ran from all over his body to his
positronic brain and a black patch and lens covered his right eye.
"We are the Borg. You will be assimilated."
Chapter Thirty-Four
Collective Data
"Data, what's going on?"
Riker's eyes were wide. He had haunting memories of Picard as Locutus.
"We are Data. We are the Borg." Data stepped closer to Riker and but stared
at him through vacant eyes.
"What did they do to him?" Luke asked. He still had his lightsaber
activated.
Riker stared into Data's eyes. "You're still there, Data," he said. "You're
still with us." He looked down Data's body. "My God, what have they done?"
"We are one," he answered.
Luke glanced over at Riker for guidance. "What do we do?"
"Just hang on a minute, kid," Riker said. He turned to Data. "You're not
going to hurt us, Data. It goes against your programming. You're incapable of
hurting us."
Artoo rolled over to the side panel.
"That is incorrect human. We are reworking our mind." Data's head twitched.
"We are Data."
Riker frowned and turned to Worf. "We've got to act quickly. Data won't hurt
us. I think he's been holding the Borg back."
"You mean he's hooked up with them?" Luke asked. "Great."
"Luke, can you take these four?"
Luke reached out with the Force. He felt Ben's presence watching over him.
"Yes," he answered.
Artoo extended his interface arm.
With a nod from Riker, Luke stepped forward and parried the lightsaber
against the nearest Borg. The blade sliced through the Borg's arm and the
appendage dropped to the floor.
Riker lunged forward, shoving a Borg into Data. The three of them tumbled to
the ground. Worf pounced on the pile and ripped out whatever circuitry he
could get his hands on. The four bodies writhed about on the floor as phaser
fire lashed out at Luke who deftly deflected each shot. No one could see
anything.
Data effortlessly picked people off the pile one by one, not caring whether
they were human, Klingon, or Borg, and tossed them across the room against a
wall. Worf went first, followed by flailing Borg. When Data picked up Riker,
Luke spun around and faced the android.
"Luke, don't!" Riker shouted. He was dangling in Data's grip. The servos on
Data's head twitched as he regarded Skywalker.
Luke wasn't sure what to do. He couldn't let Data kill everyone, but Data
was their friend and to be honest, Luke liked him. He was the only crew
member of the Enterprise who accepted the Rebels as people and didn't judge
him as a farm boy or Han as a smuggler or Chewbacca as a hairy oaf. But Luke
knew his indecision could cost him his life. He looked to the Force for an
answer.
Before an answer came the situation changed. Data's head jerked up and his
shoulder's slumped for a moment, but he maintained his grip on Riker's tunic.
He froze in position, completely immobile.
"Something happened to Data," Worf said.
Luke heard Artoo wailing in the corner. He took his eye off Data for a
moment and saw the astromech droid interfaced with the Borg computer. "Artoo
broke Data's connection to the Borg," he said.
"The connect is too strong," Worf said. "He couldn't have. But he may have
tied up the collective enough for a moment."
Luke glanced around and noticed Worf was right. All the Borg were immobile.
He quickly sliced his lightsaber through their bodies and destroyed all the
Borg in the lobby.
Data was inert. He didn't appear to even hear their conversation. Riker,
flailing around in Data's grip, stretched his hand down Data's back, and
found the small inset in his lower right side. In the recess was Data's
"off-switch" which Riker activated. Data's body went rigid and he fell
forward on his face, and drug Riker to the floor with him.
Riker pounded on the metal floor, his face in a tight grimace meshed against
the grated floor. He moaned. "Not one of my better ideas."
"We got them all," Worf said examining the sliced up Borg bodies around
them. "Is the commander all right?" he asked with concern.
Riker pried Data's grip loose from his uniform, and slowly stood up. "Yeah,
Data will be all right. He's just deactivated."
"Good job, Artoo," Luke said. He switched off his lightsaber and stepped
over to congratulate the droid. Artoo beeped his pleasure for Luke's
gratitude.
Luke patted Artoo on his dome and he turned to Riker. "We're all here. Now
we can have Artoo deactivate the scrambling device and we can get back to the
ship."
"It's not that easy," Riker said. "With Data linked up with the Borg, we
can't just beam out of here. And Artoo managed to read and disrupt the Borg's
collective mind, not actually activate anything. The Borg collective is a
complicated, advanced unit. Artoo can't deactivate the scrambling device."
"But Data could," Worf offered.
Riker glanced down at the prone android and over at Artoo. "We need to
hurry. Borg will be crawling all over us in a minute. We need Artoo to link
up with Data and help guide him through the Borg collective. Data's link-up
will hopefully be able to access the transporter scrambler and deactivate
it."
Chapter Thirty-Five
A Rock and a Hard Place
Somewhere between a rock and a hard place.
That was where Picard was, but God help him, he was good at it. This was
where is expertise as a Starfleet captain shined through. He had the Borg
ship converging on one side while the Empire's fleet was blasting them from
the other. And the kick of it was that Picard had to protect the Borg ship of
all things because he had crewmen aboard. Despite the heat of battle,
Picard's actions were cool and collected, not betraying his frantic insides.
Picard sat crosslegged in his chair on the bridge, orchestrating the battle.
Above all else, he had to keep his emotions in check. He couldn't think about
all the people dying in front of him, the fighters that Tactical picked off
like swatting annoying bugs. He was more concerned with the Star Destroyers
and the space station. So far, the Death Star was not optional, but they were
overwhelmed even without it.
Phasers and photon torpedoes arrays spit out at the Star Destroyers as the En
terprise tried to stay a step ahead of the Borg ship. The Star Destroyer Mangl
er approached from port and fired on the Enterprise. The ship rocked, but the
shields held.
"Watch the flank," Picard ordered. "Target ship on port. Fire."
A photon torpedo launched and ripped through the ship's shields, but did
little damage.
The Mangler continued back and unleashed a barrage on the Borg ship. Proton
charges ripped through the Borg's jagged sides, but the ship continued,
ignoring the nuisance.
The Imperial ship was undaunted and kept sporadic fire. But the Borg had no
reaction. Bits of the ship were being blasted away and rebuilding, but much
slower now.
The situation in front of the Enterprise was easing up as the Empire's ships
searched for ways of getting at the Borg without going through the Enterprise.
Picard was inclined to change course and deal with the Mangler quickly
enough so as to not let the other ships get an advantage. He opened his mouth
to give the order, when his jaw dropped.
The Borg fought back. A fighter-sized laser blast ripped from the belly of
the ship and seared through the nose of the Star Destroyer Mangler. The front
end torn off, the ship spun out of control, out of the fight. Picard watched
as dozens of fighters pulled away from the Borg ship, giving them distance.
Despite the minor victory, Picard didn't know how much longer he could hold
this up. Their shields were down to 41 percent, with only a few photon
torpedoes left. And when Picard rescued his crew, he would somehow have to
deal with the Borg himself.
Captain Darok couldn't believe his eyes. The Borg were decimated the Imperial
fleet, their phasers slicing through shields like paper. The minimal shields
the expert engineers on board managed to rebuild on the Executor were not
going to be enough for anything.
Darok wished Darth Vader were there to take command. He wanted the glory,
but frankly, right now, Darok didn't want the responsibility. It wasn't so
much the thousands of lives he controlled, it was he didn't want to be
responsible for himself getting killed. Not right now. He was at the height
of his career. With as many men as they lost here and at the Battle of Yavin,
Darok was a shoe-in for a promotion, and here he was commanding the flagship
of the Imperial fleet. Except it was being held together with bailing wire
and duct tape. Darok's first responsibility was to save himself and his
career. He needed a glorious retreat, otherwise Vader would make an example
out of him.
A plan started to form in his devious mind. It was crazy, insane...something
the Alliance was more likely to try. But it just might work. And Darok could
be alive to reap the rewards. He would retreat, surely, but he would wipe out
both threats at the same time.
A squad of TIE fighters got too close and the Enterprise lashed out with
precision blasts. Only one skilled pilot escaped to seek sanctuary near the Ex
ecutor.
Picard knew he didn't have much fight left, and had to make it count. He
ordered the ship to bear down on the larger Star Destroyer, to hit it with
everything they had. The Borg ship fired off a few blasts. The hull of the Exe
cutor was caved in, demolished and on fire, the oxygen within its shield
quickly burning up.
An out of control TIE fighter careened towards the Enterprise and struck the
shields at the starboard nacelle.
Picard grabbed the armrests of his chair. "A little too close for comfort,"
he muttered.
Suddenly the Executor's lasers ripped through the Enterprise's shields. Fire
roared through three decks. Picard tried not to imagine the screams.
The Executor filled the forward viewscreen. There were shouts across the
bridge, numbers and orders being relayed. The Super Star Destroyer charged
towards the Starfleet ship on a collision course.
"Evasive action!" he cried. "Hard to starboard, hard to starboard."
The Enterprise lunged away, right in the path of the Borg. The two shields
collided and Picard was tossed to the ground. There was chaos everywhere.
Alarms shrieked, klaxons pounded. Smoke filled Picard's lungs and it stung to
breathe.
He looked up at the viewscreen at the Borg ship, shrinking down as it became
further and further away.
"What happened?" he asked, trying not to cough.
"I redirected the ship and bounced off the Borg shields," Ro said.
Miraculously, she was still seated at Conn. "Shields at 2 percent," she
reported.
Picard stood up, tugged at his tunic, and stepped up behind Ro.
"Well done, Ensign," he said.
Ro formed a sly smile.
"Where's that Star Destroyer?" Picard asked.
"They've retreated, sir," Ensign Medina said with relief. "They've pulled
back."
"Why?" Ro asked.
"I don't know," Picard said. "But I'm not going to sit around to find out--"
"Incoming message, sir," Tactical interrupted.
Picard was surprised. This was above all a war about anything but words. "On
screen," he said.
"Audio only, sir."
"Very well."
"Captain Picard," a voice said. Picard recognized it instantly.
"Number One?"
"Yeah. It's us. We're all here. Data got the scrambler disengaged."
Picard frowned. He didn't know how to tell Riker they were still stuck on
the Borg ship until they could get enough away from the battle that they
could lower their shields. "I'm afraid we can't beam you over just yet."
"We're not ready yet on this end either," he said. "We have to...untie some
loose ends."
"We'll try to maneuver closer for transport, but we don't have much time.
Your ship is almost upon the Death Star."
"Just a second--" Riker said then stopped. After a breath, he said, "Luke
says the Death Star isn't operational yet, otherwise we'd all be dead. But he
might know a weakness if they used similar plans in the design as the last
station."
"We don't have time to worry about that right now. We need you off that ship
and to keep as many people as possible safe. Our job is not to interfere more
with the natural course of this sector."
"Aye sir. We'll notify you when we've gotten everything squared away. Riker
out."
The Executor came to a full stop well out of the path of the rampaging Borg
ship. Without any armament to speak of, it was a sitting duck waiting for the
harvest. And inside, Captain Darok was sweating it out.
They were safe from the Borg and the Enterprise, but Darok's plan didn't
quite work. They managed to make a successful retreat, but his plan of
causing the two enemy ships to collide failed. The Executor's retreat looked
exactly as it played out, as a desperate escape. And he knew Lord Vader would
not be pleased.
Darok could almost feel the dark side of the Force tighten around his
throat.
"So we're just going to sit here?" Luke said. He was impatient and brash.
Riker sighed. "We have to sever Data's link before we leave. If we don't,
when the Borg are destroyed,Data will die as well."
"So we have a plan to get these Borg?" Luke looked from Riker to Worf.
Neither face expressed enthusiasm.
"What about the 'sleep' command again?" Worf suggested.
"We don't have a way off the ship yet," Riker pointed out. I'd rather not
have the ship self-destruct while we're still on it."
"What about the Enterprise?" Luke asked.
"They have an entire ship to protect," Worf said. "We are expendable."
Luke's shoulders dropped. "Yes, I know what you mean."
As they spoke, Artoo-Detoo and data were slicing their way out of the Borg
collective. Aside from an occasional whistle from Artoo and a twitch from
Data, no one would be able to tell that they were doing anything. But they
were battling through the most complex computer system neither of them had
ever encountered, and neither Artoo nor Data would ever be the same again.
Finally, Artoo rattled of electronic gibberish and his head spun around
excitedly. He rocked back and forth on his two legs.
"Talkative little thing isn't he," Riker commented.
Worf snarled and muttered, "Yes."
"I don't know what he's saying," Luke said. He never managed to decipher
Artoo's language of whirs and clicks.
"He is saying that I am free of the Borg collective."
It was Data. He was disconnected from the collective. He had some wires
hanging from his exposed circuitry in his scalp and the Borg forehead plate
still attached. He tried a slight smile and patted Artoo awkwardly on the
dome. Artoo whistled back.
"Glad to have you back, Mr. Data," Riker said. His teeth showed through his
beard when he smiled.
"If you are no longer guiding the Borg, Commander--" Worf said, "--then who
is?"
The answer came in the form of three Borg along the wall activating. They
lunged at Riker and Worf, knocking them to the ground.
Luke thumbed his lightsaber stud, and with a snap-hiss and a swish of air,
the head of one Borg lobbed to the floor. It was one fluid movement as Luke
felt the Force flowing through him. It was exhilarating.
They struggled against the Borg. Phasers lashed out, the lightsaber sliced,
and muscle and metal clenched in battle. And it all stopped for half a second
when the wall exploded next to them. Flames leapt at them and ripped through
Artoo-Detoo.
"Artoo!" Luke shouted.
Chapter Thirty-Six
Enlightenment
The Borg ship obtained orbit around the Empire's battle station, the Death
Star mark II. The cube ship was like a small moon converging through the
battle, eclipsing the other ships. It was a mismatch, the entire Imperial
fleet versus the lone Borg ship. Even the Enterprise could not withstand a
fullblown Borg assault, and they believed themselves equipped to handle
the Borg. The Borg were an awesome threat to any galaxy.
But they were nothing compared to the Death Star. The ultimate
weapon, this was an improvement on the first failed design, but even that
had the power to utterly destroy, utterly annihilate a planet with a
single shot. The power was awesome, and spread fear throughout the galaxy.
There were rumors of the might of the Death Star, how it could
single-handedly take on whole systems, eliminate whole cultures and races
with a press of the button. But those were only rumors. The reality was
much worse. No fighting force in the galaxy could withstand the Death
Star. Granted, the first model was flawed. But that was a fluke. The
design was better now. No single fighter could get in to destroy this
battle station. The galaxy lived in fear of this weapon of destruction. It
was the ultimate devastator of worlds.
But right now it wasn't working.
The Borg sustained a lot of firepower. With their station under
attack, the Star Destroyers were forging on the Borg with new-found
fervor. The audacity of the new menace, to be attacking their Death Star,
their greatest weapon.
The Star Destroyers pummeled the Borg ship, sections blew way in
fireballs. But nothing seemed to phase them.
Suddenly, a beam shot out of the Borg ship at the Death Star.
There was no explosion, no destruction. Then the pilots in the TIE
fighters and the crew aboard the Star Destroyers noticed that a section of
the Death Star was sliding out of the sphere, a piece of the unfinished
puzzle coming out. The Borg were cutting up the Death Star.
Stormtroopers staggered to the ground as explosions ripped through walls
around them. The ground began turning upside down and tossing people
about. Imperial officers scampered to the best safety they could. The lift
shafts crumpled the lift car and the stormtrooper and droid inside. The
prison cell block, though empty of prisoners, housed one guard who sat
around bored at his post. Slowly, the ground started rising long the wall
and his chair slipped from under him. Unimaginable and previously unheard
sounds of ripping metal and groaning structures killed his ears. He ripped
off his helmet and clenched his hands over his ears to drown out the
noise, but it was too much. The cell block was torn asunder, sparks and
flames misfiring in all directions in the chaos. Everything the guard knew
was on its side and twisted inside out. Then suddenly, the trooper didnUt
hear a thing. Silence. He opened his eyes and saw lightsIstars and beams
and huge gleaming white ships. There was no movement around, but the
universe seemed to be unfolding for him. He opened his mouth the speak,
but the space swallowed his screams. And he saw the most glorious sight
heUd ever seenQthe wonders of the galaxy. For the first time in his life
he understood what all the fighting was about, about the rebels, and the
Empire, about freedom and power. And everything made perfect sense to him
the same instant his heart exploded and his body froze.
Moff Thrush braced himself against a console. "Somebody tell me this
station is operational!" he shouted to everyone. His statement was not
well supported with confidence.
A crewman standing beside him winced. "I'm sorry, sir," he said.
Thrush pout his head in his hands. At this stage, he didn't care
if his subordinates looked on him as weak. He didn't have the Death Star
operational as planned and clearly instructed, could not help the Imperial
navy as the Star Destroyers were being decimated, and now couldn't even
defend itself from being cut to pieces by a giant block. The Emperor would
not be pleased. Thrush knew that if he were to miraculously survive, he
would be the subject of the Emperor's and Darth Vader's ire, and anyone
else would have to get in line.
He knew his career was in ruins. His only hope was that if he
could still get the station working, he might be able to convince the
Emperor to be lenient and kill him quickly.
"What's wrong now?" Thrush asked impatiently.
"We still haven't gotten the firing sequence calibrated correctly
and there's no shields," the crewman reported.
Thrush thought that they should have had a remote shield aside
from the Death Star that was actually built correctly so they wouldn't be
ripped apart before they were done building. But it was too late now.
He lunged to the ground as the control shook. He could visibly see
the walls wobble under the stress. Shrieks of wrenching metal screamed all
around them.
"Will someone get this thing working!" he shouted at the air, his
head throbbing. He pulled himself to his feet and brushed at the burn
marks on his tunic. "I'll make a deal with you. The person that gets this
battle station fully operational will be the only one that I won't kill."
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Star Warriors
Artoo-Detoo had seen better days.
It was difficult to distinguish the astromech droid through the
smoldering ash and flames engulfing his body. Luke deactivated his sword
and dragged Artoo's shell away from the burning wall. Or what was left of
it.
"Kid, get back here!" Riker shouted as a Borg bashed him behind
the skull with its stub. All he could see were stars when he closed his
eyes. Luke was abandoning them to save the droid. He had no sense of
survival. He was impetuous and not quick tempered. Riker seriously doubted
they would get out alive. He would never let on to that of course, but the
situation was getting worse by the nanosecond. They were stuck on a Borg
ship, fighting hand-to-hand combat for their lives while a war raged
outside, and they were light years and centuries from home. And here this
kid was quitting in the middle of a fight.
Luke fanned the flames with his jacket. It caught fire too and he
dropped it, but he had Artoo pretty much extinguished. The droid whined.
"It's okay, Artoo," he said. "I'll get you out of here."
Worf was slammed against a wall, but he gained leverage and tossed
a Borg over his shoulder. But he was being over powered.
"Luke, I need you!" Riker was struggling under the weight of three
Borg bearing down on him.
Luke turned to him, his expression horror at what he had allowed
to happen. Everything was running out of control. His emotions were flying
everywhere. Luke was afraid and he couldnUt seem to do anything right. He
opened his mind for the Force to flow through him, but felt only
emptiness.
This was something Luke Skywalker, farm boy, had to do for
himself.
He thumbed the stud and the lightsaber hissed to life. The blue
glow stood out in the orange flames all around them. The floor rocked from
the barrage the cue was taking from the Star Destroyers outside, but Luke
stood his ground. His mind drifted back to the training session on the
Millennium Falcon with Ben Kenobi while wearing the blast shield. The
wouldn't work now. He was too riled to let the Force control him, and he
was afraid of letting the dark side over power him, so he had to rely on
good old-fashioned muscle and skill.
Luke leapt into the foray.
Darth Vader's body ached. More to the fact, what was left of his body
ached. He was more or less a shell of a man, trapped in a body suit that
kept him alive. But he didn't feel very alive. He ached to fight, to be on
the battlefield, a lightsaber in hand, or in the cockpit blasting away at
his enemies. Instead, he was in his chambers, unable to join the fight.
Intellectually, he knew he would not help matters much in a lone fighter,
but deep down his warriorUs heart beat rapidly. He could feel the urge to
fight. The dark side flowed through him, seethed through his body. He
wanted it, but he was denied.
Instead, he was receiving a holoprojection from the Emperor. Vader
was down on one knee. The Emperor's image was grainy because of the
interference of the battle.
"My master," Vader said, his head bowed.
There was an expression of anger on the Emperor's wrinkled and
decaying face, but it was the expression he wore most times. "Vader, your
alliance with the Borg has failed, and your attempts to locate the boy
have been futile."
Vader said nothing.
"I want you to regroup for a more fortuitous assignment. But I
want you to protect the Death Star at all costs."
"I will do thy biding, my master." Vader bowed as the hologram
disappeared.
"We're having some effect, sir, but its not enough to stop them." A
crewman stood beside Captain Darok, relaying the information to him.
The Executor was giving all it had and for the first time in the
battle actually seemed to be making headway. The Borg ship was visibly
damaged and wasnUt repairing itself. But the Executor's all was not that
much anymore and the Borg ship continued to slice through Death Star.
Darok had to wonder, with all the metal the Borg were bringing on,
why they weren't repairing their ship. Something must be keeping the
occupied.
Never mind. It was his job to buy Moff Thrush and the engineers
aboard the Death Star enough time to get the battle station working. And
that was what he was trying to do.
A blue swath effortlessly sliced through the Borg mechanizations. The
glowing sword was a blur, everywhere at once. Luke gripped the handle with
hands, his arms coming down on the shoulders of the Borg with Data in his
grasp. He swatted off groping arms. He chopped at walls. He stab through
metal. Everything was lost to him. Luke was out of control. It was all the
others could do to not get caught in Luke's rampage.
Luke didn't see anything. His mind was off in the corner,
completely unattached to his body. At first he thought it was the Force
taking over, but he knew it was rage, it was survival, it was fear.
Let go, Luke. Let go of your feelings.
It was Ben. So it was the Force. But Ben was warning him. LukeUs
mind went to alarm.
It was the Force, but it was the dark side that was controlling
his actions. Not quite, though. Luke still had enough control to act on
his own, but the dark side was creeping in.
Luke shut off his mind. He thought of only one thing.
Ben.
When he opened his eyes, there was a tangle of machinery on the
floor, a Borg arm moving its servos. Riker, Data, and Worf had crawled to
safety. There expressions were as much fear as relief.
Luke looked down at the lightsaber in his hands. He flicked it
off.
"You okay, kid?" Riker asked.
"I-I-I..." Luke stammered. He didn't know. He felt the dark side
of the Force, but he didnUt accept it. But he was close...too close. But Ben
had been there to help him. But what about next time. Luke felt like a
failure. Maybe Riker was right, he was too young, too inexperienced for
this.
Riker pulled himself up. "Come on," he said. "We've got to hide
somewhere until the captain can beam us out of here."
"I do not believe there is any place on the ship where we will be
safe, Commander," Data said.
And as is an answer, a dozen more Borg showed up.
The Enterprise drifted, at an all-stop that Picard had ordered. The
Captain searched his feelings for what the right thing to do was. He
couldn't stay around and watch the Borg disrupt the Empire much longer,
but he didn't want to risk his people. He was a dilemma he knew the answer
to, but which he didn't like.
He frowned and twisted his face. "Ensign, take us in to position
next to the Borg ship and ready weapons," he said at last.
"Aye, aye, sir," Ro said and complied.
Everyone else on the bridge looked at each other nervously. If
they got too close, they'd get in the middle. A few shots by either the
Imperial Star Destroyers or the Borg would destroy the Enterprise.
But what Picard had planned was even worse.
"Lock targets on the Borg ship," he ordered. He expected someone
to protest, that their crewmen were on the Borg ship, they they couldn't
fire on it, or try to destroy it. But that wasn't the way Picard's bridge
worked. No one said anything. It was just Picard's conscience speaking.
"On my mark," he said, raising his hand. When it dropped they
would fire. "Enga--"
"Sir!"
Picard stopped his arm halfway down. Normally, he would have given
the insolent crewman the what-for, but truth be told, Picard was relieved.
"What is it, Ensign?"
"Incoming message, sir," he said. "I read several dozens of ships,
coming out of warp, it appears."
"On screen," he said.
An image appeared on the Enterprise monitor.
"Yeee-haw!" It was Han Solo.
"Looks like you started the party without us," Solo said.
"Captain Solo," Picard said. He couldn't help it, his face beamed.
He saw Princess Leia Organa, See-Threepio, Geordi, and Dr. Crusher with
him in the cockpit of the Millennium Falcon. "I see you rescued the
Princess."
"Everyone's accounted for. Chewie and O'Brien are manning the
guns." Han jerked his head back, indicating something behind him. "And we
brought a few party crashers with us."
Han cut communication and on the Enterprise viewscreen, Han's face
was replaced with an image of space. The Millennium Falcon led the pack,
with at least six dozen ships of varying sizes, from cruisers to small
fighters. Picard didn't recognize all the ships, like the fighters with
X-shaped wings, but he did recognize the Karn fighters.
"The Karn came along and we met up with the Alliance," Han said
over the comm. "They answered Leia's distress signal."
"We can use all the help we can get," Picard said.
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Looking to the Stars
A boy, not a day over eighteen but looking just a few years younger, fiddled
with the controls on an evaporator. A six-armed droid, M3-7D, rolled back and
forth on its treads, trying its best to be helpful. The controls had been
sticking lately, not relenting when they were supposed to, and the harvest
was coming up fast, when they would need things to be working the most. But
to be honest, the boy's heart wasn't in it.
His name was Steev. His graduation was a couple months back and he had hoped
to get off Valkek and move through the stars. At heart, he wanted to be a
space pirate, an adventurer rummaging through the galaxy. But he had heard
the Empire really frowned on them, that they killed pirates and smugglers
hundreds at a time before breakfast even. And with the Empire so close, well,
Steev gave up his aspirations. They were just adolescent fantasies.
But another possibility entered the fold. The Empire had come to Valkek some
months back and used a lot of the Valkens to help construction of some weapon.
No one knew exactly what it was, but Steev had heard rumors through his
school friends. He heard it was another Death Star.
The Empire was an ever-present force. If Steev were to get in with the
Empire, he'd have a secure future. He knew his family wouldn't go for it.
They wanted him to stay on Valkek and help with the farming. But it was
realistic. The Empire brought glory, it brought adventure. Surely his family
couldn't deny him that.
Nonetheless, knowing what his family would say, especially his uncle, Steev
had put off turning in his application to the Imperial Academy. He thought
he'd stay around on the farm for a year first, then see how he felt. Until
then he had to contend himself with his imagination.
Suddenly, blinking lights in the sky caught his attention. He went to his
speeder to grab his macrobinoculars. No one paid much attention to the skies
anymore, what with all the Imperial traffic, but there were a lot of lights
playing above them.
Steev tried to focus his binocs. The image was grainy, but he could make out
some shapes. They were ships all right. They appeared to be in battle. Steev
spotted what he thought was the Death Star. It was familiar, as he had spent
hours watching the construction. He spotted a few Star Destroyers and a large
cube. At first he thought it was building the station, but Steev had never
seen it before. And there was another saucer-like ship. Steev knew he wasn't
an expert on ships, but he had never seen or heard of anything like it.
Lights flashed in different colors. He saw small white lights blink on and
off. There was a lot of activity, and Steev felt a sense of awe...but fear
started brewing in his gut.
He slowly lowered the binocs and stared at the landscape with vacant eyes.
He broke from his trance and hopped into his speeder. "Come on, Em," he said.
The droid whined in protest but moved as fast as it could to the speeder.
Steev helped the droid into the seat next to him, them took off without
another second. For some reason he couldn't explain, he had the most
overwhelming urge to go home and see his family.
Chapter Thirty-Nine
A Violent Storm
"Red Two in formation," Wedge said over the headset. Han recognized his
voice. "Awaiting your word, Captain Solo."
Han felt a little unease at being in charge of the attack. But they all
agreed, especially Leia, that he was the only one insane enough to try a
head-on attack of a fleet of Star Destroyers, their new Super-class
destroyer, and a second Death Star.
But Han figured that was what made life interesting.
"Red Squadron, take the Destroyer on the left flank. Blue, follow the Falcon
in from the front, then veer off in delta pattern to take the two on the
right. I'll take her in the front door. And any Karn out there, try to keep
those fighters off our backs." Han cut the transmission.
Leia leaned forward. "Do you have any idea what you're doing?" she asked.
"Sure," he said. "Trying to win your war for you, Highness."
"Oh dear." Threepio was a master of understatement. With Leia diverting his
attention, Han almost flew into the hull of the Super Star Destroyer. He
veered up at the last second.
"Will you watch what you're doing?" Geordi shouted.
"Hey, lighten up," Han said, coolly. "You want to fly this thing?"
"I can fly anything with wings," he shot back.
"Great," Han muttered. "Just what we need, the blind leading the stupid."
He pulled the Falcon in a barrelroll as a squadron of TIEs bore down on
them. Chewbacca and O'Brien fired after them, but two Karn fighters beat them
to it. The duo blasted all six TIEs in seconds.
"Thanks," Han said over the comm.
"You owe me one," Amarak responded.
Leia grinned. These testosterone competitions were amusing.
The Falcon buzzed past a Destroyer, dodging fire from some TIE fighters. Han
was busy keeping a step ahead of everyone.
Geordi looked to Dr. Crusher. "You best get the Captain on the communicator.
We should know what the situation is."
"Good idea," she said. She contacted Picard and he debriefed them on the
situation.
There were more ships than Picard could count, much less keep track of. He
hesitated to add the Enterprise's fire to the fight, for fear of hitting an
ally. And the sheer magnitude of the Rebellion and Karn forces were enough to
bewilder the Empire and turn the battle in their favor.
The fighters and cruisers were keeping the Star Destroyers and TIEs busy.
Which left the Borg and the Death Star. They were getting hit in the
crossfire, but damage was pretty minimal. Which gave the Enterprise
opportunity to sneak underneath the Borg ship, use it for protection, and
beam their crewman back over.
Picard gave the order and his skeleton crew obeyed. It was a relief to not
be in the thick of things for once.
Darth Vader stepped onto the smoldering bridge of the Executor. His mask
filtered out the smoke in the air. Most of the crew were hacking out their
lungs. Captain Darok was still on his feet barking orders. To his credit,
Darok turned out to be a fine officer when in the thick of things.
Vader stepped up behind him. "What is going on?" he asked, his voice
booming.
Darok jumped at the sound of his voice, then turned to face the dark lord.
"The Rebels have arrived, sir. Dozens of ships. And the Karn are with them."
"The Karn?" Vader asked.
"It appears so." Darok paused a moment, weighing whether he should mention
it or not. "Lord Vader, the ship can't handle much more of this. We're being
hit from every front. We have minimal shields and have sustained a lot of
damage. We still haven't reconstructed the damage the Borg brought on us
earlier."
"The Emperor has ordered for us to protect the Death Star," Vader said in
such a way that Darok knew it was pointless to argue.
"I have a bad feeling about this."
Riker looked at Worf. It was unlike him to editorialize during battle. And
unlike him to show any fear. But Riker realized it wasn't fear so much as
uneasiness. And he felt it, too.
"I know what you mean." Riker gripped his phaser. There wasn't much of a
charge left. The five of them were backed into a corner, picking off any Borg
that got too close, but the Borg were inexhaustible. They didn't have much
longer. Between the five of them, they had three drained phasers, a
lightsaber, and a singed droid. Not much hope.
Han was buzzing around. Leia had to admit he was doing some remarkable
flying. Whatever she felt for the man, she was glad he had agreed to stay and
fight for the Alliance. His maneuvers were knocking Threepio about, however,
and his incessant whining was becoming unbearable.
"Will someone shoot Goldenrod out an airlock," Han said as he tugged on the
controls and the Millennium Falcon climbed up and over the top of three
fighters.
Chewie on the dorsal quads scattered them.
"Things are going just as I planned," Han said confidently. "All we have to
do is keep the Empire busy until something blows up, and no matter what, keep
them away from the Enterprise."
"Bring her in close," Picard instructed. He had toyed with the idea of
piloting the ship himself, but he trusted his crew, and it was important that
they know that. No matter how green they were, they were Starfleet officers,
and confidence meant everything, the difference between life and death.
The Enterprise moved easily and gently, in contrast to the quick haphazard
movements of the fighters dogfighting all around them. It eased up beneath
the Borg ship, blocked from the solar system's sun, in the Borg's shadow.
They were only a few kilometers from their hulls touching. In space, such a
distant was like mere millimeters. Their shields were nearly touching.
"Fire a concentrated beam through the shields." Tactical fired a thin
crimson beam. At first it dispersed as it deflected off the shields, but
finally it broke through. The Borg were too busy fending off fire from all
directions and cutting up the Death Star to concentrate on any single beam.
They were through the shields.
"Lock on vital signs," Picard said. "Security and medical teams to
Transporter Room Two, just in case we bring something home that's not ours."
"I can't get a lock, Captain," the transporter officer said over the comm.
"Too much interference."
"Do your best. Try for they comm signals and everything nearby. There's a
android over there with them."
They were close, but the Enterprise couldn't sit here without shields too
long, especially this close to the Borg.
A officer marched quickly up to Thrush, stood at attention next to him. There
was an impatient manner about him. "Moff Thrush."
"What is it?" the moff asked.
"The weapons systems are on line."
Thrush's face beamed. "Excellent. Target the--"
"But, sir," the officer interrupted, they haven't been tested yet. We could
blow ourselves up. We need to double check the system."
"We don't have time. If the engineers didn't get it right, they'd be happy
they were dead, or Lord Vader or the Emperor make their lives a lot shorter
and a lot more painful."
The crewman relented. He knew he was walking on thin ice protesting to the
Grand Moff, but he didn't want a repeat of what happened earlier, or worse.
"Target that cube and fire on my mark," Thrush ordered.
A laser blast knocked the Falcon.
"Better watch it and don't get to close to the Death Star," Wedge said. "The
Star Destroyers don't seem to want that thing damaged."
"Why not?" Leia said. "It doesn't seem to be operational. It's just been
sitting there the whole time."
"They are getting pretty cut up," Geordi said.
Leia didn't think that was all there was. "But why aren't they firing?"
The Borg encircled the five intruders. The walls behind them were gone now
and numerous Borg appendages were reaching through. Luke chopped a few off
with his sword, but there were just too many of them. They were firing at
anything they could, but the Borg seemed to be concentrated their effort on
eliminating them.
The only consolation was that something was occupying the Borg's attention
too much for them to adapt quickly to the phasers and lightsaber. After all
this time, they were still effective. But it was a small consolation.
A Borg grabbed Luke around the wrist. He screamed and dropped one hand from
his saber. He struck back, but the Borg was on him faster than he could even
think of a defense. The others were being overpowered as well. Luke couldn't
see much through all the fire and smoke and bodies.
"I've got their signal," the transporter officer shouted over the comm. "But
I can't make out how many are there."
"Beam over everything you can," Picard said. "Energize."
Thrush watched the holoproj of the battle outside the station. His lip curled
in a satisfied snarl.
"Fire."
Luke felt a tingling through his body. First he thought he was dead and the
Force was washing over him, then he recognized the sensation. He was being
beamed. In the instantaneous operation, he felt an eternity pass as every
molecule of his existence ceased.
The transporter officer gritted his teeth and pounded the console. "I'm
losing the signal."
Picard felt Troi's concerned eyes on him. He knew she could feel Riker and
the others and it was sheer torture to be helpless to save them.
"I'm boosting the signal," the officer said. The console didn't report
anything positive. "Too much interference. I'm trying a second transporter to
augment it."
The weapons officer aboard the Death Star mark II pulled the lever that
activated the turbolaser. It whined as the process started. Several
technicians monitored the controls and power output.
The Star Destroyer Mangler, without its nose-piece, drifted low to catch the
underside of the Borg, inflict as much damage as it could while being safe
from much retaliation. There was not much power left but they still wanted to
do their part to protect the Death Star.
And to their surprise, they found the Enterprise, its shields down, right
where they were going.
"Captain, incoming Star Destroyer," the ensign at tactical said, a quiver in
his voice.
Picard cursed in French. They didn't need this now. They were so close.
"Transporter room, do you have them?" he asked.
"I'm trying, sir," he said. There was strain in his voice.
"You have five seconds," Picard said. "If that many," he muttered to
himself.
The Mangler opened fire with a laser blast. The Enterprise rocked from the
impact. A small fire started, but the lack of oxygen quickly put it out.
Without shields, the starship would not be able to withstand another shot.
The Imperial captain had is weapons officer target the warp nacelles of the E
nterprise. he did not know exactly what they were, but he guessed they were
the engines.
But the Enterprise had teeth. A photon torpedo fired at the Mangler. The
shot was wide, but it startled the crew a bit. This prey was feisty until
they end.
The turbolaser powered up, and a thick green lit up, reflected though
numerous refractors, precisely toned and charged for pinpoint accuracy. Of
course, with power this great, if it hit the broadside of a barn, the whole
planet would go with it.
The laser tube filled with emerald light. The crewmen closed their eyes to
avoid retinal damage, the light was so bright, the heat was so hot.
Six identical laser beams shot out and met in one point a dozen kilometers
from the ship. The beams concentrated in one mass and lashed out.
"I've got them!" the transporter officer yelled.
Picard livened up. "Then let's get the hell out of here. Shields up!"
The Death Star's turbolaser shot fired, struck the Borg ship. A second later
the cube exploded. The cloud of fire erupted, sending shock waves everywhere.
It was like a small moon detonating. One second a mass of metal and people,
the next, microscopic bits of scattered flotsam.
The Enterprise shields went up just in time and Picard ordered emergency warp
and they rode the shockwaves of the blast to a safe distance.
The Star Destroyer Mangler wasn't so lucky. The shock knocked the ship, like
a typhoon rolling over the ship. The hull was ripped to shreds. The ship
staggered away, on its last legs, a lame duck in the middle of a violent
storm.
Chapter Forty
Out of Space
Luke.
Leia felt her insides curl up. It was the same feeling she had when she saw
her homeworld Alderaan destroyed by the first Death Star. She couldn't tell
if Luke were on the ship still. According to Captain Picard, Luke, Artoo,
Riker, Data, and Worf were on the ship. She saw the Enterprise pull away, and
she could only hope they weren't on the Borg ship when it blew.
By the silence in the Falcon cockpit, she guessed everyone was thinking the
same thing.
The security and medical teams stormed into Transporter Room Two. There was a
force field around the transporter pad, keeping whatever they beamed over in
place.
Picard took the turbolift as quickly as he could to the room, but he was a
few minutes behind.
The transporter officer stood at the console as the teams poured in. Dr.
Selar hurried past him, her tricorder flipped open and reading the vital
signs of the people behind the force field.
They immediately identified the Borg because there were so many of them.
Then Riker's red uniform stood out.
"How are we supposed to get them out of there?" someone asked. The group on
the transporter pad were still thrashing about, either oblivious to the fact
that they were transported off the ship, or ignoring it.
But after a moment, it became evident that they weren't fighting. Riker and
the others were trying to dislodge the lifeless Borg bodies from themselves.
The acting head of security ordered the force field down. Dr. Selar
immediately crossed onto the transporter pad and escorted Luke and Worf down.
"Thanks, Ensign," Riker said to the transporter officer between breaths.
"Not a moment too soon."
"You don't know the half of it, sir," he replied. Riker's puzzled look told
him to go on. "That battle station just blew the Borg out of space."
"The Death Star?" Luke asked. "It's activated?"
The officer shrugged.
"That explains why the Borg stopped fighting," Riker said. Dr. Selar lightly
touched his wrist, and Riker squirmed. "Not now, Doctor." He turned back to
Luke. "When the collective was destroyed, they were destroyed, too."
"But there are people in there, in those monstrosities." Luke could barely
recognize that the Borg were also people, but he knew they were. He also knew
that it was kill or be killed in this violent galaxy he lived in. And
apparently, it was the same in the galaxy Riker lived in.
"There wasn't much of them left," Riker explained. "Being severed from the
collective, their brains weren't strong enough to survive without it." He
looked at Selar who was running an instrument long his wrist. Riker could
feel the bones mending. "Is that right, Doctor?"
"Your hypothesis is reasonable based upon the limited information
available," she said.
Riker's teeth showed through his beard as he smiled. "See?"
"But if the Death Star is active and eliminated the Borg--" Luke's face was
ashen, "--then we're in even greater danger."
"We've got a problem," Han said.
Two TIE fighters were straight ahead, side by side. Their shots were wild
and before they could target the Corellian freighter, they exploded in twin
fireballs. The Falcon flew through their debris.
"What? Those fighters?" Leia asked. "Chewie got them, no problem."
"No, it isn't them." Han's frown deepened. "Without the Borg here, the
Empire can concentrate on us."
Han took the Falcon at a sharp angle as Wedge blasted another fighter.
"But you outnumber them twenty to one," Dr. Crusher observed.
Han shook his head. "But they have the Death Star."
As he finished his sentence, as if on cue, the Death Star unleashed a second
blast and a Corellian corvette was no longer there.
Han said, "See what I mean."
Picard entered Transporter Room Two three minutes after Riker and the others
were beamed aboard. He saw the security team piling up the Borg bodies on the
transporter pad as he walked in.
"Number One," he greeted, "it's good to see you." A smile appeared on his
face, but it didn't last long. "Is everything all right?"
"Yes, sir," Riker said. "We had a little trouble there with Data, but we're
all okay. Artoo's a bit cooked."
"And Data?" Picard's eyebrow raised.
Riker looked uneasy speaking. "I think Data should be taken off-duty for the
time being." Data was within earshot and Riker felt horrible saying this
about his friend.
"What happened, Number One?"
"The Borg got to him," Riker said simply.
Picard nodded. He understood all too well.
"Very well," he said. "Mr. Data, confine yourself to quarters."
"Aye, sir." Data left the transporter room without further comment.
Picard turned back to Riker. He was aware of all the activity going on
around them; medical technicians treated Worf and Luke's injuries; an
engineering crew looked at the scorched Artoo-Detoo; security officers took
care to neutralize what was left of the Borg. They were far from alone, but
Picard needed to speak with his first officer and they didn't have the time
or luxury to stand on protocol.
He spoke softly. "Number One, the Borg have been eliminated."
"Yes, I know," Riker said.
"Well, that brings us to a dilemma." Picard paused. "I agreed to help the
Rebellion because we inadvertently allowed the Borg to come to their galaxy,
to their time, and disrupt it. Now that the Borg threat is eliminated, I see
no reason for us to violate the prime directive further by interfering with
them."
"We have people out there," Riker said.
"I know that. I'm not abandoning them, Number One. To be honest, I'm looking
for a way to help Princess Leia and Commander Skywalker here. What I need is
a way to justify it to myself."
Riker rubbed his mended wrist. It was still sore. "Maybe, sir," he said,
"it's just as simple as finishing what you started."
Picard didn't react for a long moment, then he nodded. "You're right. How
did you get so smart, Will."
"I was born this way, sir."
Chapter Forty-One
Deathshot
Darth Vader recognized an opportunity when he saw one.
Granted, the Imperial navy was nearly decimated by a lone Borg ship, they
were outnumbered by Rebel ships twelve to one, the Karn had taken sides in
the civil war--the side of the Rebellion, and Vader had lost the boy,
Skywalker. But the Death Star was operational. Vader knew full well that the
construct was only a tool, a tool with weak links, that it was nothing
compared to his control of the Force. He knew the Empire took too much stock
in the weapon, put too much faith in its dependability. Vader considered it
the Emperor's one great folly, though he would never say so to him in person.
This whole battle was a fiasco because of the Empire's dependency on
technology. But Vader also knew that the people feared the Death Star, and he
could prey on that fear.
Darth Vader felt the Force flow through him, felt the dark tides ebb.
With the Death Star, and so much of the Rebel Alliance present, Vader could
protect the battle station, destroy the rebels, get Skywalker, and win the
war.
"Captain Darok," Vader said. He stepped closer to the captain, towering over
him. His deep breathing echoed in his mask. "Deploy fighters. Target the Mille
nnium Falcon and any Rebel freighter. I want them destroyed."
It wasn't so much an order as the way it was going to be.
For the first time since being appointed head of construction of the Death
Star mark II, Grand Moff Thrush smiled.
It was a malicious, maleficent grin, but a grin, nonetheless.
Thrush was fully aware of his failures in getting the weapon operational on
time, and of the first failed test on Valkek. It wasn't that he held himself
responsible for the ineptitude of his crew, as any good leader would; it was
that the Emperor did. he had been walking on thin ice--had even fallen in a
few times--but the Empire had pulled him through. The Death Star had put him
on solid ground once again.
And now was the moment of his greatest triumph.
Thrush's mind swam with visions of grandeur, of accolades, credits, women,
and power. He wouldn't end up like Moff Tarkin. He'd have glory.
"Target on anything that moves," Thrush instructed the Death Star weapons
officer. His mind was on his future and not on the present battle. "We'll
finally get those Rebels scurrying."
The turbolaser ripped through space. Excited electrons vibrated. The beam cut
a swath through fighters: X-wings, Karn, Y-Wings, and TIEs. And ended with a
magnificent fire cloud--the remains of a Mon Calimari cruiser.
Darth Vader was pleased. The Empire was finally taking command of the battle,
as should be. But he was restless. There was little he could do on the bridge
beside intimidate the crew. Vader itched to do something constructive, or
destructive. Just not nothing.
Captain Darok was handling the battle well. Vader decided he could spur the
repairs to the Executor's engines and hyperdrive. He knew a thing or two
about how to build things, as well as fly them. He excused himself from the
bridge and made his way to the aft engines.
Rogue Two spun and dove, lashing the pilot's frustrations on an equally
frustrated TIE fighter pilot. But the TIE had just blown Rogue Two's friend
Walkins to space dust while his superiors were ripping the other Rebel
fighters to shreds. Rogue Two's pilot Wedge Antilles had a lot to be
frustrated about, and he was skilled enough to put that frustration to good
use.
The offending TIE burst like a cheap firework and the X-wing sailed through
its remains. It wasn't enough to make Wedge happy.
"Any ideas, Falcon?" he asked over the headset. He didn't get a response
right away.
"Uh, just whatever you have," Han's uneasy voice came back. "My ventral
quads were fried by a blast. All I got is Chewie."
"With this Death Star eliminating hole squadrons, these fighters are child's
play," Wedge said. He hopped the sarcasm translated over the comm.
"I'll worry about the Death Star, you just concentrate on those fighters."
"Where have I heard that before," he muttered to himself.
"And move quickly," Han warned. "That's for everyone. Be a moving target and
take out whatever you can."
Wedge took his X-wing in a spin as Gold Four blasted the TIE fighter he had
just got on his tail. All around were small fireballs and a dizzying
lightshow of lasers. There was nothing beautiful about it.
"I know you said not to worry about the Death Star," Wedge said, "but I
can't help it."
There was a lengthy pause and for a moment Wedge thought maybe the Millennium
Falcon was no longer around to respond. But Han's voice came as a crackle
over the headset.
"The station's my concern, Wedge. That's why they pay me the big bucks."
Leia's eyes burned holes in the back of Han's head.
He looked at her innocently and shrugged. "What? I said I'll handle it and I
will."
She narrowed her eyes.
"Somehow," he said quieter.
He looked at the faces of the others in the cockpit. Leia was a fighter, but
even she doubted him. And Geordi and Dr. Crusher were worried and looked ill
at ease about being helpless. Threepio didn't have an expression--he
couldn't--but he still seemed more scared than usual. Han had an enthusiastic
cheering section.
"All we need to do is find a weakness in he Death Star, go in, and destroy
the single most destructive weapon ever created." Han at least had
confidence, or false bravado. "Simple as that."
"You also need to stay alive," Crusher said.
"First things first."
The Falcon suddenly rocked from a laser shot. System shorted and everyone
lunged in their seats.
"So far so good," Leia muttered.
"Careful, Princess," Han warned. He quickly scanned the starfield for where
the attack was coming from. He didn't immediately see it, until the TIEs
erupted. The Falcon wobbled from the shockwaves.
The next second, Han identified his salvation. The Enterprise settled into
view, its phasers searing through fighters and chipping away at the nearest
Star Destroyer.
"Nice of you to drop by, Captain," Han greeted over the headset.
"The least I could do for a friend, Captain Solo," Picard's voice answered.
"We don't have much to offer. Our shields are low and only have a few more
photon torpedoes."
"Anything you can spare, Captain."
"Oh, we have an idea or two."
A TIE fighter bore down on the right flank fighter of a Karn formation. His
targeting system locked onto the ship, and followed him through his
maneuvers. By the way the Karn were flying, he was blind to their sensors or
too busy occupied by something else. It didn't matter really, because in a
second, he would have nothing else to worry about.
The TIE pilot ran his thumb over the firing stud, relishing the moment, when
he heard a peculiar chime, like crystal rustling in the wind. He turned his
head, but couldn't see well through his dark helmet. Then an all-too familiar
snap-hiss sounded and the cabin filled with a blue glow.
And he could see a blond haired boy, standing crouched in the cockpit,
holding a lightsaber and wearing a crooked grin.
With one slash, the blade sliced through the ship's systems. The pilot had
no time to react. The next second, the boy disappeared in a twinkling column,
and the damaged fighter blew to millions of microscopic pieces.
The second TIE fighter pilot didn't see what hit his leader, but the
explosion meant only one thing to him. He was now the leader of the squadron.
War time was great for personal promotions.
But he heard a sound and turned to see a very large dark creature with a
rigged forehead and no personality growl at him, then smash his head against
the dash and toss him through the cockpit shield into open space. As his
heart exploded in the cold vacuum of space, he noticed that the strange
creature in the red and black uniform was no longer there. Then the TIE
exploded and everything was black.
The third TIE fighter pilot didn't see what hit his leader and his wing man,
but the explosion meant only one thing to him: he was now in charge of the
squadron. Then he heard a strange sound...
Chapter Forty-Two
Out of Nowhere
Chief Miles O'Brien staggered into the cockpit of the Falcon, resting his
weight on the doorframe.
"What's going on?" he said. He wiped his brow with one hand,
secured himself with the other. With the quads dismantled, he didn't want
to feel useless and thought he could help the others in the cockpit.
"I don't know, Chief," Geordi responded, glancing back. Everyone's
eyes were glued to the port screen where TIE fighters spontaneously
combusted right before them. "That's what we're trying to figure out."
"Whatever works," Han said. He didn't have time to muse over the
strange development. His ship was coming apart at the seems. The last hit
they took wrecked havoc with his guidance systems. The ship wasn't
maneuvering as it should and he was trying his best to compensate.
Geordi tapped his comm badge. "Captain, is that you doing this?"
"A little something Number One came up with," Picard answered.
"It's the swashbuckler in him."
O'Brien's eyes opened wide. "Are you using the transporter?"
"What?" Leia asked.
"He's using the transporter to raid those fighters." O'Brien was
impressed. "Why didn't I think of that?"
"Who's doing all that beaming?" Geordi asked. "The coordinates
alone would strain just about anybody?"
Reginald Barclay could hardly see his fingers as they flew over the
console, working completely on instinct and adrenaline. Everything was
hustle and bustle. The transporter pad had someone different on it every
few seconds, and somehow Barclay was keeping track of everything. Where
they were going, how long they were there, enough power to sustain their
patterns, sensors maintaining a lock on them. Without slowing, he shook
his head, the sweat sliding unstopped down his face. "I-I don't even like
these stupid things."
"How are you planning on handling the Death Star?" Picard asked over the
comm.
Han's answer was strained. "Exploiting its weakness. If it has
any. Only this time, Artoo doesn't have any specs."
"Would he know how to handle some of those Star Destroyers?"
"Artoo is quite remarkable," Threepio droned. "He is capable of
maintaining the schematics for every weapons system used in the Empire and
the Alliance."
"I guess that's a yes," Han translated.
"Perhaps we can handle some of those ships after all. If anyone
can understand him."
"I can translate for him," Threepio offered.
"Captain," Riker said. "I have another idea."
"Understand, Data, that this was nothing personal." Riker was sorry, and
more than anything that had happened recently had disturbed him more than
having to recommend confining Data to his quarters. It wasn't what a
friend would do after all, but considering the circumstances, it was what
a first officer had to do.
"I understand, Commander," Data said. There was no change in his
demeanor. He could just as easily having been talking about the discovery
of a new life form or recounting the death of a friend. "I have no--" he
paused, "--feelings to hurt."
"Yes, I know." But it didn't make Riker feel any better. In his
own way, he halfway hoped this would make his conscience feel better.
"What I need you to do, Data," Riker explained, "is to talk to
Artoo here. He has the schematics on those Star Destroyers, but we can't
talk to him."
The droid beeped when referred to.
"I will relay the schematics directly into the ship's systems and
work with the computer and Artoo-Detoo to formulate a strategy."
Riker cocked a grin. "I know I can count on you."
No matter how many fighters they took out, the Death Star took out more
ships in a single blast. It was a tug-o'-war with both sides losing. The
Rebellion's only hope was to destroy the Death Star or retreat. Neither
seemed like a viable option. The Empire was strong enough to pursue the
Rebellion and finish them off if they fled. And they didn't even have a
base to return to yet. Since the discovery of the Yavin base, the
Rebellion had been without a home, scouring the galaxy for a suitable
hideaway.
And destroying the Death Star was just shy of impossible. They
destroyed the first one more out of luck, Han figured, than skill. And
luck was something that had run dry with him years ago.
"What are you doing just sitting around?" O'Brien asked. "Get your
rear in gear and tackle the bloody thing."
"You wanna try this?" Han asked, ready to give up the controls.
"No, Han." Leia, the voice of reason. "Let's just look at this
logically."
"Look out!"
The shout from Dr. Crusher was just in time for Han's reflexes to
veer the ship away from smashing into the hull of a Star Destroyer.
Han shook his head, grumbling. "'You'll be rewarded,' he said.
'More than you can imagine,' he said. He didn't say anything about going
up against a fully armed space station the size of an inhabited
moon...twice!"
"I don't understand it, sir." The tactical officer scratched his scalp. It
was already red from doing that for the past few minutes.
"What don't you understand?" Darok stepped over to see what was
happening. He was surrounded by idiots too green to know how to use the
equipment.
"The TIE fighters are falling out of formation and destroying
themselves. Now some are just blinking out."
"Blinking out? Destroyed, you mean."
"No, just disappearing."
Captain Darok watched the monitor as a squad of three TIEs trailed
a single Karn fighter. Suddenly, the left wing fighter disappeared off the
screen to reappear less than a second later in front of the other
fighters. Then the three burst into a fireball in a collision.
"I don't understand," Darok muttered.
A small clump of dots appeared on the screen in the middle of the
battlefield. The sensors identified them as rock formations, containing no
life, two to four meters in length. An asteroid field, appearing out of
nowhere. They appeared in the path of a TIE attack formation. Only one
fighter made it out before a Y-wing picked him off.
Another asteroid field appeared off the starboard hull of the Star
Destroyer Immense. The rocks pounded against the shields. Some were
pulverized, other small ones passed through the weakening shields and
pummeled the hull.
"Somehow they're doing this. Maybe it's some Jedi trick." Darok
was nervous. He didn't really believe in the Jedi powers. He always
figured Darth Vader's sorcery was a combination of clever illusions and
carefully planning. But in times of stress, he was one of the first to
jump at pointing the unexplained at the supernatural.
"Sir, our shields are down," another crewman reported across the
pit.
"What?"
"Someone's tampering with our system. We're receiving a signal
from the unidentified ship. It's being sent to all the Star Destroyers."
"All our shields are down?" Darok's voice was tiny.
"Yes."
There was silence on the bridge a moment, as they could almost
feel the grins on the Rebels' faces as their ships detected the Empire's
sudden weakness. The Rebel fighters rerouted to attack runs on the Star
Destroyers.
"Fire everything weUve got," Darok spat. "Those Rebels won't have
the privilege of seeing me go down. Fire everything!"
The Executor unleashed as mush as it could on the charging rebels.
Fighters exploded in a flash of colors. But still they bore down.
"The Immense is reporting heavy damage," a crewman reported.
"Too bad for them. Concentrate on us."
Darok was not paying attention to the other Star Destroyer until
he noticed something peculiar. A TIE fighter was sticking out of the
bridge--at least part of it was. It suddenly appeared in the wall. It
didn't crash, just materialized in the wall. A second later an explosion
ripped through the cockpit of the destroyer.
"We've lost contact with the Immense."
Five quick shots from an ion cannon ripped through the lame Star
Destroyer and the ship ripped apart. The shockwave was felt all across the
battlefield.
Darok's fear turned ever more to rage. It wasnUt that thousands of
fellow Imperials had just died, it was that he was next. All his emotions
mixed up into one feeling. Determined rage.
"There is no way those Rebel scum are going to get me like that,"
Darok vowed.
Curiously, the crewman next to him, staring at the screen, noticed
that Captain Darok's voice was slightly cut off. He turned to see a huge
boulder next to him, taking up much of the bridge. Sticking out of it was
Captain Darok's gesturing left hand and a grim visage, his snarling face
embedded in stone. The rock, an asteroid, had materialized on the bridge,
and inside Captain Darok. Fused partway with the rock.
Chapter Forty-Three
The Sun Also Sets
Darth Vader was in pieces. Not dismantled, just hooked up to the hyperdrive
computer. He had taken it off line for repair and decided to tackle the
project himself after he strangled the chief engineer for incompetence.
The machinations in Vader's arm joints worked as a suitable circuit board.
He diverted power from his life support systems, not enough to put him in
danger, but enough to run the system independent of the glitches in the
ship's system. He nearly had the repairs completed when he felt the ship
rock.
"Find out what that was," he ordered.
A nervous engineer went to a comm panel. "I--uh...the system's gone haywire.
Something's wrong with our system. Our shields are down."
"What?" Vader strained to see the display. "I need this hyperdrive
implemented back in the system. Avoid the glitches. I will be on the bridge."
He ripped the connections out of his arm and left the engineers to get the
ship working properly.
"Your ideas appear to be working, Number One," Captain Picard said. He stood
on the bridge next to Riker, both monitoring the battle and all the activity
around them.
"Thank you, sir. Just a few suggestions."
"I don't believe I've ever heard of using the transporter in such a way
before. Beaming asteroids into ships' paths. Hijacking fighters. Very
exciting." Picard couldn't keep the child-like wonder out of his voice, a
sheer contrast to his manner and execution of orders. "Let's hope its enough
help to Captain Solo to handle the Death Star."
In a complicated transporter procedure, seven officers combined of Starfleet
and including Luke Skywalker and Lieutenant Worf beamed to seven separated
coordinates, on board a mobile one-man fighter spinning through space around
them.
In each instance, the Starfleet officer or Commander Skywalker materialized
on board the ship, catching the pilot by surprise.
And again in each instance, the TIE fighter pilot was beamed off the ship
only to re-materialize a brief second later on the transporter pad of the Ente
rprise, feeling quite awkward collapsing out of their seated positions having
no longer a seat beneath them. They were greeted as a group on the
transporter pad safely behind a forcefield by armed security personnel.
Meanwhile, the six Starfleet officers and Luke grappled for control of the
wild fighters.
"I got it, I got it, I got it," Luke said, hopping into the seat and
fighting to master the controls. It really wasn't much different than flying
an X-wing or his T-16 back on Tattooine and quickly gained control of the
ship.
Worf and the others were not as fortunate. The Klingon's ship corkscrewed
wildly for a few seconds, heading for the bulkhead of a Correllian cruiser.
"Sotlaw'!" Worf snapped. He wrested the steering mechanism and pulled free
from the fall. The others managed sufficiently, except one who Barclay beamed
back aboard before his fighter struck an asteroid.
"Everyone all right?" Luke asked.
"Piece of cake," Worf grumbled.
"Well, watch your back. You don't want to get shot by one of our own."
The hijacked TIE fighters snuck as a group behind a few straggling TIEs.
"Thanks for the cover," the TIE pilot sent over the comm. "Now let's take
these Rebels."
"I don't think so." Luke fired four quick shots and the other renegade TIEs
ripped through the stragglers.
As they soared through the debris, they came upon the Millennium Falcon,
coming across their path.
"Hey, Han," Luke said over the comm. "I brought some friends with me."
"Luke?"
"Here to lend support. There are seven of us in these TIEs. Try not to blast
us, huh."
"Can do. Any ideas on how to tackle this thing?"
"Artoo couldn't come up with anything," Luke said. "The layout's different
than last time. I guess the Empire learned its lesson."
"Yeah, we're the only fools who don't learn. I guess I'll wing it, then."
"I've got something." It was Geordi's voice.
"What is it?" Luke could tell it was Leia over the comm. he could hear
everything they said on the Falcon.
"I might be able to use my VISOR to scan the surface of the Death Star, try
to find the power center, some weakness, perhaps."
"You can do that?"
"Sure." Geordi paused. "If we could get closer."
"Closer?" Threepio exclaimed.
"Just watch my back, okay, buddy?" Han said and flew the Millennium Falcon
closer.
"Anything?" Han asked. The Falcon skimmed the surface of the Death Star. The
only consolation he had was he was too close for the Death Star's
super-cannon to be a problem. The bad news was the ion cannons on the
numerous towers. The design was remarkably like the original Death Star but
different enough that Han had no idea where he was going. All he knew was
that he was closer than he liked to the death machine.
"Not yet," Geordi snapped. "I'm looking."
His spectral view of the station would be mind boggling to anyone else, but
Geordi LaForge Forge was accustomed to viewing electronics through blurry
color patches and chemical analysis. It was the only way he could see and he
did it remarkably well. Unfortunately, he was unfamiliar with this galaxy's
technology beside a rough glimpse at the haphazard wirings of the Millennium
Falcon and he doubted the Falcon was typical of ship systems.
"Just keep going," he said. "I'd help if I knew what I was looking for."
"Maybe a central tower, or a long shaft leading to the station's core," Leia
said.
The Falcon dipped below a scaffolding an over a tower. Behind them, Worf in
a fighter took out the tower. A few stray TIEs and Karn ships followed with
X-wings trying to catch up to the Falcon.
"Looks like I'm a trend setter," Han remarked.
"Look out!" Threepio shouted and blocked his eyes with his arms. "Aaah!"
Han nearly side-swiped a tower and whipped the entourage around some
dangerous curves and dips.
"Any luck yet?" Luke asked over the headset.
"Still hunting, kid," Han answered.
"Well, make it quick. It's getting heavy back here. We're attracting a lot
of Imperial attention."
"So what else is new."
"We've got a Star Destroyer bearing down on us."
The Executor was lunging and Darth Vader staggered onto the bridge, barely
able to keep his balance. His anger at the careening ship's crew was replaced
by confusion at seeing a huge slab of rock on the bridge and the ship's
captain lodged inside.
"Lord Vader," a bloody and cut crewman addressed, "we're out of control.
heading towards the Death Star."
Vader leapt down into the crewpit and assessed the situation. The Super-Star
Destroyer was careening towards the space station, caught in the station's
gravity. The rock must have damaged ship's systems.
Down below them, the systems read a Correllian freighter and several
fighters skimming the surface of the Death Star. When the Executor hit it
would strike the ships, for sure, but that was not a viable option.
Vader's fingers flew over the controls, trying to stabilize the systems.
Sparks flew across the bridge. Not much was in working shape. Piloting
systems were down, and hopeless, Vader let go, relaxed, went limp.
The cut crewman, blood soaking into one eye from the gash over the bridge of
his nose, noticed the Dark Lord slumped over the computer console. Lord Vader
wasn't moving. He panicked and extended a wavering hand to Vader's shoulder.
"L-lord V-v-vader?"
Slowly, fluidly, Vader's head raised back, his arms extended out, palms
upward. His breathing was calm and almost nonexistent.
Suddenly, the ship started shaking. A rumbling sounded through the metal
walls of the ship and it slowly pulled upward, straining against the pull of
gravity. The Executor pulled away from the Death Star, rolling on its back,
away from the two-dimensional battle tactics into the rest of the
three-dimesional space relatively unused.
Vader's body was strained. Things all around the ship were falling, consoles
and screens smashing to the ground. A supporting beam swung down on top of
Vader, swatting him across the helmet. His left eye lens shattered, his face
mask dented and scraped. Smoke and sparks scorched the helmet, a grey ash
blanketed it. Bit he did not lose his concentration, did not lose his grip on
the Executor with the Force. He pulled the ship away from the Death Star,
facing outward towards the Enterprise and the numerous Rebel cruisers.
"I think I've found something."
"Really?" Leia leaned closer to Geordi. "What do you see?"
"An energy source. That tower at the end of the trench." They looked for the
landmark, a single nondescript tower finishing off a small inlet trench on
the northern hemisphere of the Death Star. "It's the disguise of a shaft
leading to the central energy source. Destroy that and it should be enough to
send a reverberation through to the center."
"Sounds easy," Han said.
"We've lost the Star Destroyer but gained a few TIE fighters," Luke said
over the headset.
"I will take care of them," Worf said.
And the TIE fighters quickly converged on the Falcon and the hijacked TIEs.
Chewie couldn't fire for fear of hitting Luke or the others. The Imperials
were all over them.
The Rebels were about to be defeated. Grand Moff Thrush could feel it in his
bones. They were close. The end of the civil war was near and he was going to
be the man who instituted its end.
His Death Star mark II was making short work of the Rebel's forces. There
were still numerous ships around, but this ultimate weapon was more than even
they could handle, and they were scared. In just a few minutes, they would be
on the run and Thrush could send reinforcement Star Destroyers after them.
And the Rebel alliance would be destroyed.
And what would send them running was the destruction of the Rebel's newest
weapon, the odd saucer ship called the Enterprise.
"They're all over me," Han said. He looked all around him. every direction
lasers spit at him from TIE fighters. "I can't tell who's who."
"Just keep flying," Dr. Crusher piped in.
Han kept the Falcon as a moving target, trying to avoid any more hits. Their
shields were low where they were existent. They were tossed about in the
cockpit.
A TIE followed like a tail to the Falcon, matching Han's every move.
"Luke, is that you behind me?"
"Sorry, Han. I'm busy with a couple on my own."
"Then we've got problems."
Laser fire lashed out at the Falcon, singeing the ship's hull, frying
circuitry.
"Woah! Watch where you're going," Threepio groaned as he tumbled onto Dr.
Crusher's lap. She shoved him heavy metal body upright in the chair. "You're
going to kill us all!"
"Shut your mouth, Goldenrod," Han snapped. "This isn't as easy as stopping a
garbage compactor."
"Are you still blaming that on me, Captain Solo?"
"If the metal boot fits..."
"Why I never..." Threepio was offended and was momentarily at a loss for
words, much to the relief of everyone else.
The battle continued on the outside and the firepower was so intense Han
could not concentrate on getting close to the tower. Threepio's comments were
grating on Han's nerves, evident in his irresponsible dive into the trench. A
TIE fighter smashed into the wall trying to duplicate the maneuver, but Han's
tail held on.
"He's gaining on us," Threepio griped. "We're doomed."
"That's it!" Han said. He threw up his hands, releasing the controls. The Fal
con sped straight away, not altering course for the jutting walls and
scaffoldings.
"Han! What are you doing!" Leia was frantic.
"I've had it with the oil can critic. You want to fly his thing, Threepio?"
He motioned for the droid to take the controls. "Go ahead. Be my guest."
"This is no time for games," Dr. Crusher shouted.
"Oh, dear." Threepio waved his arms, not sure what to do. He looked at the
Correllian braggart, with his arms crossed over his chest, unwilling to fly.
Leia stared blankly at the controls. The ship rocked from near miss laser
fire and they were heading directly for the tower. Faster and faster, without
anyone controlling it. Chewie roared an obscenity from the quads.
"Captain Solo! Captain Solo, I apologize!" Threepio stammered. "Hurry!"
Han smirked, satisfied. "That's more like it." He turned to the controls,
the tower face filling the entire cockpit window, so close they could see the
textured surface. Then the Millennium Falcon rocketed upward, banking hard up
and around.
The TIE fighter was not so skilled.
Second-Lieutenant Wes Torkins, top graduate of his class in the academy four
years ago, leader of the third TIE fighter squadron of the Star Destroyer
Victory, and winner of last year's flight pattern competition on Coruscant,
made his way into the history books, but not the way he intended. In some
books he was a footnote; in others he was touted a hero of the Rebel
Alliance, like Biggs Darklighter or Bail Organa, as the man responsible for
the destruction of the Death Star mark II.
The TIE fighter smashed into the tower, a huge explosion ripping through the
tower structure, and it collapsed in on itself. The resulting explosion
carried down the tower shaft to the core of the Death Star. A deluge of
flames ripped through the inside of the station. The whole station shook.
"Let's get the hell out of here," Han shouted and kicked the Falcon into the
fastest speed he could. The stolen TIEs, X-wings, and Karn fighters veered
off to safety.
Darth Vader knew the battle was over. But they would have time to regroup, if
he could get them to safety. As he had always known, the Death Star was a
failure. But the Empire was still strong.
"Activate hyperdrive," he ordered.
The crewman pulled back the lever, and the Star Destroyer Executor shot out
in a stream of blue lines, away from the battle.
Darth Vader knew he would have another chance to crush the Rebellion. And
another chance to find Luke Skywalker. The Empire would strike back.
"Target that explosion," Picard said. They had monitored the dogfight and the
destruction of the tower. All that was needed was a little extra push.
"Fire at will."
Three photon torpedoes launched from the Enterprise with pinpoint accuracy,
down the shaft where the tower had been.
Dozens of small ships fled from the Death Star, including the Millennium
Falcon. A few TIE fighters continued firing, but most were escaping with
their lives as well.
Then the Death Star exploded.
Moff Thrush got one of his wishes...he died quickly.
Trillions of tiny stars burst all around them. The glorious blast blinded,
but everyone could not help but look. Cheers echoed throughout the ships.
"Yeehaa!" Han shouted, bursting away from the fires. Leia and Dr. Crusher
hugged. Geordi sighed. Chewie growled in triumph.
Luke clenched his fist. "Yes!"
Worf grunted approvingly.
Riker's teeth showed in his beard, a wide grin. Picard nodded his head as
the crew shouted excitement.
"Well done, everyone," Picard said. "Well done."
The turbolift door slid open, but Picard hardly noticed. Dr. Direidri
stormed onto the bridge, breaking through the celebrating officers to the
captain.
"Jean-Luc. Captain Picard," she said. "Captain, I really need to talk to
you."
"Yes, Dr. Direidri?" Picard rested his hands on his hips.
"It's about going home."
Chapter Forty-Four
Going Home
"What were you trying to pull?" Leia was laying into Han. Despite their
victory, they had been tremendously close to dying because of Han's childish
behavior.
"Easy, your worship," Han eased, "everything worked out all right." He gave
her his best braggart grin.
Still, they were alive. That was something to celebrate.
Leia turned to Dr. Crusher and LaForge. "Thank you. Thank you very much. We
couldn't do any of this without you."
"Well, we felt a little responsible for bringing the Borg here," Dr. Crusher
said.
"But you went beyond that." The operable Star Destroyers and fighters limped
away from the battle field. Some fired back defiantly, but the Karn ships
taught the stragglers not to dawdle. "The Empire is retreating. We stopped
their second Death Star. You've helped our struggle more than you could ever
know."
"Save the speeches, Princess," Han interrupted. "Captain Picard has a
message for all of us."
"Attention, this is Captain Jean-Luc Picard speaking. I have an important
announcement for us all."
Picard sat in the captain's chair on the bridge, but quickly grew
uncomfortable and stood up. His audio message was being broadcast through the
comm badges, through the Enterprise, and on the Rebel headsets.
"Dr. Direidri was working on a way for us to get home," he continued.
Standing next to him, she nodded with false modesty. "She was running a test
on the seismic activity, trying to duplicate the conditions on Driedarrel VI
that brought us here. And she made a discovery.
"The destruction of the Death Star, the shockwave send through space, was a
similar phenomenon as the seismic disturbances, and has opened up a temporal
space vortex. The same, I do not know. Commander Data is doing tests as I
speak. We shall know momentarily. Again, we do not know how stable the vortex
is and must act quickly.
"I regret that we can spend no more time in each other's company, Princess
Leia Organa."
"I understand, Captain," Leia responded. "You have helped us in our time of
need. And we will do what we can to help you."
"I thank you, your highness. Mr. Worf, bring your team back on board. I will
relinquish our Imperial prisoners to your care, Highness. And I must ask that
Dr. Crusher and Mr. LaForge return to the Enterprise."
"And Artoo?" Threepio's worried voice came over the comm.
Artoo bleeped a response.
"Yes, we shall beam him and Commander Skywalker aboard your vessel," Picard
said.
"Is there anything we can do to help?" Luke asked.
"Not at the moment. We need to run some tests, first, then we see."
Fifteen minutes later, the vortex was still stable. The Starfleet officers
were back on the Enterprise and Luke was sitting in the Falcon's cockpit
while Artoo and Threepio caught up on their adventures.
"Our ship will be under considerable strain," Picard said, viewing Data's
calculations.
"In order to make an accurate journey, it will be necessary to alter course
to maneuver through the temporal space vortex," Data reported.
"Can you do it, Data?" Riker asked.
The android nodded his head with a tilt. "I believe so, sir."
"Make it so," Picard said.
He turned to the main viewer to an image of the Falcon cockpit. Han and
Chewie piloted, with Luke and Leia seated behind them.
"We shall be departing momentarily," Picard said. "There is no time for
lengthy good-byes."
"We understand, Captain Picard," Leia said. "We wish you well."
"May the Force be with you," Luke added.
Picard nodded. "And to you."
The screen blinked off.
"Are the coordinates laid in, Commander?" Picard asked.
"Aye, sir," Data reported.
Geordi stood over his friend. "This is going to be tricky, Captain."
"Understood."
The Enterprise crept closer to the vortex, a purplish cloud. The Falcon and
several Rebel cruisers slowly circled, watching the ship.
"It's breaking up, becoming unstable," Geordi said. "Firing stabilizers."
A sky-blue beam shot into the heart of the vortex, and the swirl changed
slightly.
"Stabilizing," Geordi reported.
"Altering course to compensate for fluctuations," Date droned. His fingers
flew over the console.
The Enterprise was immersed in the vortex. A mesh of cream colors washed
over the view screen, a liquid kaleidoscope. The instruments were the only
guides. The people were helpless, could only way to find out what was going
to happen.
Then the stars returned, the colors disappeared. They were out of the
vortex.
"We are clear of the temporal space rift," Data reported without emotion.
"Position," Picard said.
Data glanced over the star charts. "We are approximately 30.72 meters from
our last reported position in the Driedarrel system."
"What about time?" Riker asked.
"Sir, a message from Driedarrel IV, Minister Kallon," Worf reported.
"On screen," Picard said.
Minister Kallon's face appeared on the screen. His brow was furrowed in
concern. "Captain, are you all right? We lost contact with you for nearly 2
minutes."
Picard closed his eyes and smiled, a burden dropping from his shoulders.
"Two minutes," he whispered.
"No, everything is fine, Minister," Picard said. "We ran into some
turbulence."
"Very well, Captain. We were just concerned. And how goes your research?"
Picard shot a glance over to Dr. Direidri. "We have some interesting
readings."
"Excellent. I look forward to reading your findings. Kallon out." He nodded
and his image disappeared.
"Longest two minutes I've ever spent," Riker commented.
"You can say that again, Number One. I think we could all use a break.
Ensign, set orbit around Driedarrel IV. I think we'll stick around a while."
"Aye, sir."
"Jean-Luc," Direidri started.
Picard turned to her.
"Captain," she amended. "I wish to speak to you. Privately, if at all
possible. Perhaps that tea."
"I, uh--" Picard stammered, but could not find a reason to get out it.
"Number One, you have the bridge."
"Aye, sir." Riker watched Picard and Dr. Direidri escape to his ready room,
then exchanged a knowing glance with Counselor Troi. And Riker couldn't help
but laugh.
Picard escorted Dr. Direidri to a seat. He ordered two cups of tea, earl
grey, and took his place behind his desk.
"What can I do for you, Doctor?"
"Lilian, please."
"Very well."
"Jean-Luc, what did we see here? What happened?"
Picard sat back in his chair, sipped his tea, slow, before answering. "You
watch the schematics. You understand as well as the rest of us."
"But the tests, what do I say about all this?"
"Whatever you want. Just remember--" he took a sip, "--how much are they
going to believe."
The vortex closed up a few minutes after the Enterprise disappeared. The
space left an empty feeling with the Rebels. They sat in silence, looking on
where the Enterprise was a few minutes ago, where the Death Star had been a
few minutes before that.
"You sure know how to have a good time, your worship," Han said. "It was a
blast."
"And a costly one, at that," she said.
Luke joined in. "But we've got the Empire on the run. It was a victory."
"And perhaps we have a new ally." Leia got on the headset and addressed
Amarak.
"Amarak, this is Princess Leia. I thank you for your help in the battle
today."
"There is no need, my lady," he responded.
"On behalf of the Alliance, I offer to you to join us in the fight against
the Empire."
"We did not fight today for you. We fought for ourselves, for vengeance
against the Empire for killing our people. Their deaths have been avenged."
Amarak's voice was full of sorrow. "I am sorry, Princess Organa. It is not
our fight. The Karn cannot join your Rebel Alliance."
Leia was quiet a second. She wanted to plead with him, but she knew she
couldn't. "Very well, Amarak. Thank you. And my offer shall stand, if you
change your mind."
"Farewell, my lady." Around them, the Karn fighters pulled out of formation
and headed off home.
"Well," Han said, "I guess Valkek's a bust as a base."
"Any other ideas?" Luke asked.
"One." Han opened up communication with General Dodonna on the large Rebel
cruiser. "General, it's Solo. I have another option for a base of operations
for the Alliance. A planet called Ord Mantell."
"Is it secure, Captain Solo?"
Chewie roared something, but Han ignored him. "Pretty sure. Just follow me,
I know the way."
Han Solo, surrounded by his friends, pulled back the hyperdrive lever, and
the Millennium Falcon pulled away in a stream of stars.