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aesthetic curves or white, sharp beauty. This ship was a ship of war.
"Rebel Alliance Nebulon B Frigate Excelsior hailing unidentified craft and
TIE fighters. Unidentified craft, Identify yourself. TIE fighters - look
behind you!"
From behind the tiny aggressors, a wing of needle-like ships swung in,
incredibly fast, and in a few seconds, it was all over. The three fighters
- their wings split in an X-shape - roared close to the Enterprise.
"This is Captain William T. Riker of the Federation Starship Enterprise
hailing -" he raised an eyebrow at the coincidence "-Excelsior. We're new
here. Any hints on how to avoid those things?"
"This is Wedge Antilles, New Republic Fleet, Rouge Squadron. You look pretty
beat up. Had a lot of run-ins with the Imperials?"
"Not really. We hit a bad wormhole or something. How does it look from out
there?"
"Your ass-end is all shot up, but I think you'll hang together. I don't
think we can squeeze you into a hangar bay : are you hyperdrive capable?"
"We have a warp drive capability." Riker hedged.
"Hmm. This is going to be a bit difficult..."
TREK WARS - PART II - PICARD THE MERCENARY
** San Francisco Spaceport. **
Picard waited at the shuttle door in silence. When it hissed open, he
saluted crisply to the officers awaiting him, feeling a bitter sense of loss
at the irony of it all. How the mighty are fallen.
"Ensign Picard." The voice threw him, for a moment, but he rapidly placed it.
"Maam." he said, formally. The president of the United Federation of
Planets inclined her head. God, she looks terrible, Picard thought. Hardly
surprising.
"Picard, I want to talk to you about your request for dismissal from the
service." She'd changed so much... was it possible that this was the same
woman he'd once known?
"I have my reasons, Maam." He kept his stance and voice even.
"I'm sure you think you do. The fact is, Picard, you're the scapegoat for
this mess, but that won't last forever. I know if you could have averted
this whole catastrophe you would have. When this is over I for one would
be glad to see you back in service... there are some who always suggested
that Admiralty was a waste of your talents for field command."
"Maam. I must leave the fleet immediately. I have to - There are many
things that I must deal with here. I am no longer fit for service in this
fleet." He unclipped his solitary rank pip and communicator badge and
offered them.
She stared at them for a long while. "I know this must gall you, Picard. I
can tell-"
"Please, Maam-"
"Call me by my proper name, Damn you! We've know each other too long to
beat around the bush."
"Lwaxana. Please understand that I cannot allow my name to be linked with
the fleet any more. I have to leave."
"I know you must feel guilty over Deanna -"
"Lwaxana, please just listen. I have received word that it just might be
possible that they are still alive. But in order to follow this lead I
must be disgraced and dismissed. I have to contact someone with a
"If it were not for the evidence of my own eyes, I would be inclined to
call you a liar or a madman." In fact, to his wide-spectrum sight, the
transporter effect had been spectacular.
"Haven't you developed a mattertransferance system?"
"Perhaps we might have, if we had not spent so many years fighting amongst
ourselves..."
"Civil Wars?"
"Bitter and vicious ones. It is noted by us that your ship is not a ship
of war. Although we are puzzled by the wreckage of the Tie fighters : the
energy-to-destruct ratio seems ludicrously small. Some predictions even
range to 2 : 4. Our own turbolasers cannot get beyond 17 : 6."
"We used Photon Torpedoes."
"How odd. Our own ships carry Proton torpedoes. It appears we have a great
deal to discuss, Captain Riker."
The ships in the Enterprise shuttlebay were the same daggerlike vessels
that had made such short work of the attacking craft. They had slipped
gently between the ripped doors and settled on extendable landing skids. Three
men and three small, stumpy robots were approaching the airlocked door,
their faces hidden behind helmet seals and blast shields. The outer door
hissed closed and the lock cycled open.
"I'm Wedge Antilles, and these are Meko and Tikks. You're counsellor Troi?"
"Yes." Troi acknowledged with a small nod.
"If you don't mind me asking, just who were you councilman for?"
Troi paused, trying to understand the earnest young man's question.
"I'm a psychiatrist and Empath. My job is watching the mental health of
the crew."
"Hmm. I figured from the ship design that you had a different culture, but
this is going to take some adjusting to..."
TREK WARS - PART III - TROI AND THE ROGUE.
** Kyoto's Cafe-Bar, San Francisco Spaceport. **
Tallera was sitting silently, fuming slightly, when Picard found her.
"This is an insult for which you will pay dearly, Picard. Whoever that oaf
was who dared to- to-" She came to a halt, unable to articulate around her
rage.
"Glue you to your seat, please continue?" Picard said evenly.
"He had better start watching his back unless he wants a knife in it!"
Picard studied his fingers for a moment, mostly to avoid looking Tallera
in the eyes. Her gaze was as heated with rage as the slopes of hell.
"Is that all?" When Tallera went a very undignified purple he continued
quickly, "You've just met Q. He makes a habit out of annoying people for
no very good reason. And as for killing him, well, I'm afraid there's
rather a backlog of death threats on him at the moment."
Tallera smiled coldly. It was not the sort of smile that inspired Picard
to rate Q's survival chances very highly if he were ever foolish enough
to get within arm's reach of her.
"I need you to do me a favour, Tallera. I need a small team of topflight
mercenaries for some very unusual work. And I need them soon."
Tallera's eyes flickered for a moment as she tallied up past
acquaintances.
"What sort of team?" She asked, professional nature gaining the upper hand
over her anger for a moment.
"Sure : Computer, accept the next voice and allow base-level clearance."
"Hi there. Desert environment, double-suns, canyons formed by wind
erosion. A large valley."
The simulation began to form.
"A city. Sprawling. Buildings mostly in white, all in early stages of decay."
He looked around.
"It'd pass for Tatooine." He looked around. "If my eyesight were a little
poorer."
Troi detected a deep well of memories.
"Is this your homeworld?" she asked.
"Not mine. A friend's."
A bitter twinge of pain clouded his thoughts.
"I wonder where he is right now."
"Approximately six months ago we started having trouble with the Imperials
again. Almost overnight, they began to co-ordinate on a much larger scale,
forming a coherent fleet in this area. Five months ago, we discovered that
one of the Admirals of the Fleet was unaccounted for. Three months
ago, an expedition to this area vanished without trace. And a month ago,
Princess Leia Organa's brother, the Jedi Knight Luke Skywalker, was in
this sector when his X-wing vanished without a trace. While he is not
assumed to be dead, given his remarkable survival skills, the chances of
finding him are extremely small. And the battle against the Imperials
grows harder every day. It seems that the battle of Endor was not as final
as we might have wished." The B-2DI came to the finish of its tale.
Riker nodded grimly. This galaxy had been torn by war for decades. He had
heard the story of the Clone Wars, the Old Republic pitted against the
Empire, and of the Rebel alliance and the battles of Yavin, Hoth, and
Endor. He had heard the story of the young 'Jedi', Skywalker, and of his
friends : the smuggler Han Solo, the pilot Wedge Antilles, and the rogueish
Lando Calrissian. And of his sister, the current figurehead of the New
Republic, Leia Organa. He had never before encountered any group so
strained by irreconcilable wars. The Emperor made Hitler look like a
reasonable and civilized man. And the coldly related information about Grand
Moff Tarkin was enough to make him shudder. He had sparked the rebellion at
the massacre at Ghorman, slaughtering the protesters at the spaceport by
bringing down a warship on top of them, landing jets reducing the
protesters to ash and smoke in seconds... The concentration camps had not
accrued so many deaths over the course of the entire second world war as
Tarkin had ordered in one moment when he commanded that the first Death
Star be fired on Alderaan. He would have been inclined to disregard the
stories as propaganda, but it was all so believable. He had the feeling
that trying to explain the slowly boiling tensions of the Romulan problem
and the deteriorating alliance with the Klingons, not to mention the
Cardassians and the ever-more-complex beauracracy of the Federation, would
be like trying to explain Socrates to a Rock. It wasn't that they were
stupid, just that their frame of reference was entirely different.
He sighed.
"You've had a more difficult time of it than us, and that's a fact. The
last real war we had to contend with was the Eugenics wars, way back in
the twentieth century."
"Is your society stable, sir?"
"Not exactly. We don't fight openly, but there's always that threat. And
there's always a paper war happening somewhere. And we've met any number
of beings and races that could forseeably destroy us if they put their
mind to it. Let me tell you about the Borg..."
Picard surveyed his small group. Lansen was a short, wiry fellow with a
permanent grin. According to Tallera, he was the best thief in the system.
Next to him, Koigot stood, quiet, impassive. A glittering implant lit his
temple, revealing the tiny interface jack that connected to his little
biocomputer. He was rated the best shot with a pistol phaser in five systems.
But the Raven was still more impressive. He stood nearly six inches taller
than Picard. Slung at his side was a broadsword of some length. He wore a
long black overcoat, ragged at the bottom, giving him the air of a
tattered, but still predatory, old bird. He wore a black fedora and a
mask of black metal shaped like a medieval knight's shield, with the stylised
outline of a raven in flight on it in white, like a heraldic device. The
outstretched wings of the bird framed the eyeslits, through which red eyes
glowed.
"I will do this for nothing." He announced quietly, his English slightly
tainted with an unidentifiable accent. "Loyalty to comrades, one final stand
against the uncaring machine, these things are pleasing to me. The Raven
bids you welcome, Picard."
"Yeah, same here." Lansen grinned. Koigot merely nodded.
"Now we leave," Tallera said with a look of slight annoyance on her face.
She seemed disappointed that The Raven had not charged his usual enormous
fees.
"Indeed." came the arrogant voice, and Picard half closed his eyes in
desperation.
"I thought you didn't like interfering too much with events?"
"I'm not in control here, Picard." Q paused, clapped one hand to his heart
in mock grief. "Do you know how difficult that was to say? I'm quite
_shattered_ by the concept. I'm hurrying you along because I'm so terribly
_Bored_ by all this fooling around. You see, the two timelines are
beginning to fray, and I rather fear that unless we get your friends back
we'll be looking at a full scale catstrophe. You really wouldn't want to
go through the whole Trelane business again, would you?"
Picard shuddered. Their encounter with Trelane, Q's... Apprentice? Pupil?
Protege? - had been emotionally searing. He had seen Jack Crusher, driven
half insane, ripped from another universe and dropped into their own. He had
witnessed a Beverly Crusher dying - which Beverly, from an infinite
number of possible Beverlies, he could not know, but the sound of her neck
breaking as she fell had driven ice into his soul.
"You see, Picard, that anomaly was never intended to be permanent. It was
a fledgling immortal's first attempt at something really impressive that
got quite out of hand. The distortion around it is so great that even
Q-continuum physical laws begin to break down. We call it Drift Hysteresis.
Darktime. It's a conjunction point between two galaxies that are
fundamentally not equipped to be connected. Think of it as the point
between a vat of nitroglycerine and a roaring fire. If it opens too
widely, the reality bulkheads may fail and a chain reaction might just
take us all out in a bang that would make the big one look like a damp
firecracker. So let's move, shall we?"
Picard clenched his fists. This was going to be interesting to say the least.
"Now all we need is a ship. Unless, Q, you'd care to stop all this fooling
around and take us directly?
Q grimaced.
"Oh, Picard, whatever gave you the idea that I might make this all easy
for you? No. You need a ship."
"Why?" Vash put in. "You didn't need one to take me on our little
archaeological whistle-stop tour of the galaxy."
Q grinned smugly. "I'm not half the omnipotent immortal I used to be, my
dear." He intoned, sarcastically. "I simply can't be bothered to haul you
around willy nilly for your personal amusement anymore. I've grown tired of
all that. No, you'll need a ship."
Picard closed his eyes.
"So in other words, you can't do it."
"Won't, Picard." Q said sharply. "I won't do it, not I can't do it. It just
makes things more interesting."
The Raven spoke. "I have a ship. We will go immediately."
Q rubbed his hands.
"Attaboy. Oh, this is going to be more fun than I've had in aeons." He
began to sing in a rich baritone. "Here we are again, happy as can be..."
Tallera shot a glance at Picard.
"I really am going to break his neck for him one day."
"But not today, my over-aggressive friend. Not today." Q clapped his hands.
"Now, shall we stand around discussing things while the universe goes
foom, or shall we flit off and find the excitement?"
** Starship Enterprise. Perimeter Space of New Republic. **
Wesley finished checking the readouts on the navigation console.
"Where's the rendezvous?" he asked. Troi looked at Wedge.
"Near Kashyyyk. Han and Leia are en route from Coruscant now."
"Okay." Wes tapped his communicator. "Bridge to Captain Riker. We have
the star maps and our destination."
"Very good, number One. Warp Two."
The Enterprise blurred into a starbow and was gone.
"Go to hyperdrive for Kashyyyk. And notify Admiral Ackbar that he needs a
new frigate on patrol."
"The Sunfire is already outward bound. All personnel, Jump stations. All
personnel, Jump stations. Orienting for the jump to lightspeed."
The excelsior rotated, aligning her prow with the distant speck of light
that was Kashyyyk's main sun. And was gone.
Leia was beginning to get tired of this.
"Again?" She said.
"It's not my fault. I had that unit overhauled two months ago."
"No hyperdrive. Again."
"I think its-Ow!" there was a dull ringing sound.
"Is that a pipe? Or is it the emptiness of your head making all that noise?"
"Ha-ha. Chewie, I need a Ditmars-six wrench and a coil of Polygamite
monofilament. And if you've got a Mark Nine microcutter, that'd help."
Chewie grunted and passed the tools down.
"Never should have let Lando's boys near this tub." Han's voice echoed up from
the pit of piping. "I just found a sabacc card down here. I'm willing to
bet that half the man-hours I paid for were spent on cards..."
Leia groaned and went up to the bridge. It was remotely embarrasing that
a counsellor of the New Republic had to rely on a rackety old smuggler's
vessel for transport, and she said so.
"I agree most heartily, Princess Leia." C-3P0 piped up from the corner.
"Well, sweetheart, I love you too. This rackety old smuggler has patched
up the Hyperdrive, so anytime you like we can get going for Kashyyyk."
"I'll believe it when I see it," she said with a smile.
Han pulled the lever and the stars blurred into starlines.
"I believe it." She said, a little surprised.
Han smiled from behind a layer of grease. "See? This old bird's got a few
years left in her yet."
** San Francisco Spaceport. **
Vash looked at the Ravenflight with a distinctly disapproving air.
"You fly around in that thing? You're braver than I thought."
The Raven's expression, thankfully, was hidden behind his mask.
Picard examined the ship with a critical eye. It might be old, but a
starship captain's eye for detail picked out the overlarge plasma
conduits, the additional bulge around the engines. The Ravenflight was a
fast ship under the decaying exterior.
"It'll make warp five and at sublight it's the equal of a Carrack-class
cruiser. It's fast enough for you."
Once they were aboard and the Raven had gone to the bridge, Picard drew
Tallera to one side.
"Who is the Raven, exactly? I mean his real name, where he comes from."
"No-one knows his real name. He's thought to be the last of a race long
since dead, but he's not telling anyone."
"And what is this whole Immortality thing?"
"He's as vulnerable as you or I to damage. But as near as anyone can
figure, he's been around for at least a hundred years."
"I have a projected lifespan of another two hundred years, Picard." came
the Raven's voice from behind them. "I've been around for more than a
millenia. As to my name, as to my race, both long since ceased to have any
meaning. Now there is only the Raven. I am what I am and no more." The
Raven's voice was very quiet.
"I have seen all four Enterprises go about their missions. I have seen
Star Fleet fight time and time again to survive, to rise above the ghosts
of war and find a better peace. Know this : unless they can do so, the
human race still may perish at it's own hand. I have seen my own race die,
Picard. It is a fate I would wish not even upon my worst enemies."
For a moment, there was silence.
"I am the last of my kind. Once, we straddled the galaxy, fearless,
indestructible. Now our fire has gone out of the universe. I am all that
is left. It is a high and lonely path I tread."
Picard looked down. There was such pain in the unearthly voice that it cut
him to the bone.
"Now, we must go."
The Enterprise slowed as it reached the Kashyyyk system. The lush green
planet below looked cool and appetizing.
Wedge looked at the screen.
"Well, here we are. Wookiee central, the planet with the most dangerous
natural hazards this side of the galaxy."
"What's a Wookiee?" Wes asked.
"Eight-foot humanoid covered head-to-toe in hair. They look pretty fierce,
but they're good friends of the Alliance. But that's all academic : we're
only waiting for the Falcon. It'll be good to see Han again..."
A few moments later, the Excelsior dropped out of Hyperdrive into the
Kashyyyk system.
"The Falcon should be here any minute, Sir." Riker's droid companion
informed him.
"Is this the same Millenium Falcon that fought at Yavin and Endor?"
"Indeed, sir, At Yavin, Solo rescued Luke Skywalker from attack, and at
Endor General Calrissian led the attack on the Second death star in it
while General Solo co-ordinated the ground attack. It was also responsible
for the evacuation of Princess Leia from Hoth, and before that for her
rescue from the first Death Star."
"Quite a history."
"Indeed, sir. General Solo is one of the best known figures of the
Alliance after Commander Skywalker and Leia Organa. He is a gambler of
some repute : he won the Millenium Falcon from Lando Calrissian in an epic
nine-hour game of sabacc."
"Does he play poker?" Riker asked, thinking that he might just have to see
how good this Solo was...
Trek Wars Part IX
And Height And Depth And Eternal Stars
** Coruscant. Command Control. **
The vast assembly hall was barely half-filled. The Republic fleet, Wedge
had explained to Riker, was stretched to its very limits just trying to
hold the fragile alliance together : and the Republic Shipyards were
desperately low on vital supplies. Leia and General Solo were standing
with them, pointing out key figures in the bustle.
Riker noticed a dark-skinned man with a dazzling smile approaching from
behind. The man put a finger to his lips and then jumped on Han. Han went
crashing to the floor and the two men rolled there, wrestling with each
other. Riker stepped forwards to intervene, but Leia laid a hand on his
arm and shook her head, smiling.
"Lando, you stinking son of a space flea, what the hell are you doing here!"
"I might ask you the same, oh disreputable one. I thought you intended to
retire from all of this."
"I keep meaning to, but..." he glanced briefly at Leia, "There are a
couple of things that just keep me hanging around." Leia blushed faintly.
Lando flashed her a hundred-watt smile and took her hand.
"Princess," he said with easy grace, and kissed it.
"Same old rogue. Don't you ever change?"
"I am as eternal as your beauty. But, sadly, business matters call.
I've had an idea that might solve your metal problems. You're mostly short
on Hfredium, aren't you?"
"That's the big bottleneck, yes."
"I've found a rich site. I fully expect to be able to extract a thousand
tons a day."
"That is rich. What's the catch."
"It's N'Klon."
"It can't be mined. It's in close orbit around a primary star, for crying
out loud : you can boil steel on the day side."
"I've had a few thoughts on that. If you'd care to look them over, perhaps
pass them on to interested parties that, shall we say, might not be so
indeed, less than a Jedi as well. I never had your training... but then
again, I never needed it. That's just the way the universe expands, I
suppose."
"Can you free me?"
Q shook his head.
"This is a complex machine I'm manipulating here. I'm trying to turn it
off without damaging it or ripping my hand off - metaphorically
speaking - between the various moving parts. I love playing games like
this : it's so beautifully complicated. Too many key players, too many
subtle shifts. This is really going to give me a good, old fashioned
workout. I've got to go. But be of good cheer, Skywalker. Help is on its way."
He vanished.
Across space he screamed, revelling in the power flowing through him. The
exposure to Darktime had done more than mess up his materialisation : it
had very nearly killed him. But, here...
He looped-the-loop around a cooling supernova out of sheer exhilaration.
Back to the roots, back to the start. Nearest the bone is where life is
sweetest.
Another thought spurred him on. A short passage from Sliin's "The Death of
Marhata".
"And as he watched, all was laid waste :
The petty scribblings of mortal man,
And the mighty works of God,
And Height, And Depth, And Eternal Stars,
were scattered to ash before the void.
And the rest is Silence."
The Organians had a touch with epics and poems that Q admired. The Death
of Marhata had always been his favourite.
In a flash of light, he arrived.
"Q!" came the cry, as expected.
"Well, well, well. Captain Riker! Almost mildly entertaining to see you
again."
"I might have guessed you'd be bothering us before long."
"Oh, believe me, if I had a choice in the matter I wouldn't ever go near
this grotty little universe again, but events seem to be conspiring
against me. Which is unpleasant, to say the least."
Leia was watching him.
"Who are you?"
"Ah, the delectable Princess." Q bowed. "I'll let Captain Riker here do
the honours."
"This is Q, a member of the Q continuum. A galactic-sized pain in the
neck, and as arrogant as they come."
"Oh, the pain." Q clutched one hand to his chest, as if mortally wounded. "You
cut me to the quick with these accusations, you know. I'm just a dabbler in
arrogance. You should meet Mogen if you think I'm bad." He smiled, coldly.
"You're-" Leia began.
"Oh, *spare* me. Yes, I'm a Jedi of sorts. All sorts, actually. I've got
some important news for you all, concerning missing loved ones. Ex-ensign
Picard, after a number of misadventures too tedious to relate, is freshly
arrived and - sad to relate - as dull as ever. Commander Skywalker is
neither fit, nor well, but he is still alive. Cancel your red alert, if
you would : I'm getting a headache."
Ackbar tapped a pair of buttons, and the klaxon ceased.
"Now, If we'd all get ourselves in a co-operative frame of mind, I've a
few orders to give."
and he'd become a thoroughly respectable actor. Beverly was even talking
about trying him in some Shakespeare.
Those little digressions had kept him diverted for long enough for the
walk from he landing bay to the bridge. The Door to the bridge slid open.
"I can't believe you can't get a better sensor package for that thing!" came a
female voice.
"Listen, Sweetheart, since Lando knocked the main array off for me I've had no
end of problems. I'm not about to try a tricky landing just for your
entertainment. You don't like climbing? Next time, We'll book a shuttle.
Oh, Hi, Ma'Baan. And you must be the new guys."
"Captain William T. Riker of the Federation Starship Enterprise. You must
be General Solo."
"Skip the General. I stand down my commission in a month's time-"
"Not if Ackbar has anything to say about it you don't." The woman interrupted.
"And you must be Princess Leia Organa."
"Yes. If certain grubby pirates would go get cleaned up, the diplomats here
can deal with the real business."
** The Ravenflight. Sigma Foxtrot sector. **
Data angled his head slightly to one side, a physical mannerism that he
found often encouraged humans to continue. And this was VERY interesting.
"...I am no longer your commanding officer, but I hope I am still your
friend. Can you produce me any theories, Data?"
Data paused, assembling the known facts in a logic field and applying a
series of Matrix filters.
"Extrapolations from current data are what could be termed "Sketchy" at
best, Jean-Luc. However, eliminating all possibilities of less than fifty
percent, I believe that the hypothesis that the Anomaly is a
two-directional gate are unlikely. Anomalies are usually single-acting
introverters which apply a focussed but variable distortion to the
spacetime continuum, not a fixed tunnel sustained in another set of
dimensions. I do have records, however, of a tunnel between two universes,
under StarFleet coding KIRK-ENT-5-1-LAZARUS-INCIDENT. The enterprise
encountered a humanoid who was given the name "Lazarus". He was eventually
revealed to be two beings from separate universes. The two Lazaruses were
sealed in a corridor between the universes, which was apparently generated-"
"Thank you, Data. It is possible that Q's inference of 'A long time ago in
a galaxy far away' might be his typically roundabout way of explaining the
concept of an entirely separate universe. In the meantime, what action do
you feel is appropriate?"
"Your decision to notify Worf is most intelligent, Captain. Worf is both a
trusted member of the Klingons' Greater Council, and also a friend who can
be trusted to accurately convey your message in appropriate terms. I
myself am aboard the U.S.S. Lyman en route to station Deep Space Nine for
a conference on new developments in robotics, a radical new 'Fuzzy Logic'
chip which may in due course allow a more human response from machines-"
"Your point, Data?" Picard smiled slightly.
"I will be in an appropriate position to meet with Worf aboard his
personal flagship and arrange an outing to the co-ordinates for further
examination of the evidence."
"Very Good, Data. It's been good to see you again."
"I have found it stimulating to interact with you once more also."
"Good Luck, Data." Picard closed the connection. "And good Hunting."
He turned to the crew assembled on the bridge of the Ravenflight.
"That ties up this end of the situation for now. All we need is Q."
"It's such a delight to hear you say that, Picard. It seems that in your
old age you are finally coming to appreciate me."
Picard knew better than to rise to Q's baiting.
"Well, Q?"
"The anomaly is invisible to your instruments, Picard. To get through the
Drift Hysteresis alive, you'll have to do exactly as I say."
Picard drew himself up.
"Very well."
"Second star to the right. And straight on until my warning..."
** Deep Space, beyond the Republic rim. **
The Imperial Star Destroyer 'Invictus' was cruising through the night, her
running lights blinking in solemn unison along her 1600-meter length. A vast,
triangular sliver of metal, a city in space, she sailed serenely onward.
Her occupants were not so serene.
"Admiral, how much longer must we tolerate that... abomination amongst our
crew!"
The Admiral turned one baleful eye on the young Captain. The man was
quivering, but whether with anger or fear he could not tell.
"Hesk will continue to be a part of the operations of my strikeforce until
I wish it otherwise. He is a valuable addition to our force and as such-"
The door hissed open and a nightmare entered.
Hesk was utterly black. Faint gleams of light marked the surface
occasionally, but most of the light falling on Hesk simply vanished into
him. The only features in his face were a thin-lipped mouthful of needle
fangs, and a pair of slitted eyes that glowed with molten fire.
"Captain Ungari. I will not be referred to as an abomination." His voice
was rich, melodious, as sticky as tar.
Without warning Hesk seized the captain's hair with one hand and tipped
his head back.
"Sweet kiss of nightfall, the moon's embrace,
doth light its softness on thy face" Hesk said, poetically, and ripped the
captain's throat out. He spat the torn flesh onto the desk in front of
Raust and let the gurgling Captain slump to the deck.
Raust watched Hesk with his one good eye for a moment.
"Your powers as an enforcer of discipline are in no question," Raust said
eventually, "But you will execute only upon my command.
Hesk crouched to all fours by the corpse.
"Forgive me, for I am a worm." He said, his voice full of scorn. He lapped
at the spreading pool of hot red and straightened, looking like a pleased cat.
He sat down.
"I require sustenance, Admiral. And regardless of your feeble sacrifices
to my powers I will still require fresh blood on every possible occasion.
I am Vader to your emperor."
Raust's one eye gleamed horribly in the dark.
"Do Not Mention that Name." he said, his voice on the sharp edge of anger.
Raust was only human from the waist up, and then only barely so. His legs
and lower torso had been crushed. One arm had been ripped from the shoulder
by the indigs of the planet his shattered nav unit had dropped him on. He had
lost the eye to the attack of a predatory bird only moments later. When the
imperial troops, evacuating the failure at Endor, had found him hours
later, he was more dead than alive. Now, he was seated in a
powerchair that maintained his vital functions, his one remaining arm
spliced into a neural cradle that converted his nerve signals into motor
control. A bionic implant eye glinted dully in the empty socket. His skin
no, he had been a hero and saviour of their race in a time of darkest need
He had slaughtered millions
he had saved the righteous
he was the devil
he was God
Hesk's mind threatened to overload on him. His attacks were getting worse.
But his face betrayed not one flicker of his confusion.
He was Hesk the Warlock, and no-one else. He repeated the statement to
himself, a mantra of identity.
He would stay sane. He would.
Raust watched him silently.
"We are coming up on the position our patrol last reported in from. They
had encountered a strange vessel and were endeavouring to destroy it.
Their last transmission was something garbled about X-wings and then they
ceased to send. A scout frigate from Delta group was sent to investigate
and never returned. If the Rebels have developed a new craft it may be
dangerous to us. So we are going in force." A buzzer sounded.
"We're coming up on the system." He opened a connection and spoke to the
bridge crew. "Order the crews to their fighters. Interceptors to deploy
first with Assault Gunboat support, employing Ki's Wedge for maximum
coverage. And prepare the main gun. Raust out."
** Republic Frigate Excelsior. Conference room. **
Leia looked across the table at Riker.
"Well," she said, "That would seem to cover it. As the official
representative of the New Republic, I hereby welcome you and your crew
into the Alliance. You drive a hard bargain, Mr. Riker."
"Call me Will. You're not such a poor negotiator yourself, Princess Organa."
"If we're to be allies, you might as well call me Leia. Everyone else does."
"Very well. Leia."
"There's only one more thing, really. I don't suppose you came across an
X-Wing while you were out there?"
Riker shook his head sadly.
"I'm afraid not. That would be Commander Skywalker, am I right?"
"He's been missing so long... Even threepio has started to whinge about
missing artoo."
A comm unit bleeped.
"Princess! You've got to get off the Excelsior fast. The Sunfire is under
attack - we're needed -"
"Riker to Enterprise, prepare to beam back all crew members on my mark."
Picard felt the light pass clean through him, so bright and blinding that
it seemed like a physical blow. He turned. The Ravenflight was glowing,
every faded colour blazing bright white. His companions seemed like
shadows of ordinary white against the tide of impossible brightness. Their
outlines seemed speed-blurred, and Picard found himself forced into speech.
"What is this?"
Q sniggered. It was not a pleasant sound. When Picard looked at him, he
knew something was wrong.
Q's eyes were filled with insane fire. His laughter was that of cracked
lunacy.
Picard closed his eyes and prayed.
** Kashyyyk, Republic Space. **
The Enterprise was on Red alert as it warped out of Kashyyyk orbit. The Falcon
was aboard, and Solo had snapped orders to the helm once on board.
"Coruscant, at your best speed."
The Enterprise was at Warp six, and when General Solo had been told
exactly how fast that was, he had raised an eyebrow.
"That's pretty impressive. The Falcon will make Point Five in hyperspace :
that's a logarithmic scale with a theoretical maximum of one. It equates
to about 17 cee in normal space."
"Our ETA is about nine hours. Do you need anything?"
"We're all kind of fifth wheels around here until we arrive. We've got to
get to Ackbar and find out what in the hell is going on."
Riker considered for a moment.
"If you'll give me some information, we can set up a tactical tank on a
holodeck."
"A what?"
"A reduced map of the systems involved with all the known forces
displayed. It's a new control technique we're trying out for large battles
: it enables us to fight flexibly as a controlled fleet rather than a mob."
"You guys having Imperial problems?"
Riker shrugged. "The Klingon alliance is in the balance, the Romulans are
being quiet - which means they're planning something - the Ferengi have
tripled their prices into Gamma Quadrant because of the Sispaari conflict,
the Cardassians are pushing for extradition of political prisoners to the
extent of covert raiding... At least here you've only got one set of
enemies to keep an eye on."
Han gave one of his mournful smiles. "Yeah. But there's a lot of places to
hide." He fell silent, and Riker realised he was thinking of Commander
Skywalker. By all accounts the two were close.
"Come on," Han said, shaking himself out of his reverie. "Let's see this
tactics setup."
They made their way down to the holodeck, and were surprised to meet
Alexander Worf and one of the X-wing pilots coming out of holodeck Six.
Worf stood to attention. He lacked his father's beard, but the family
resemblance was clear. His eyes burned with the same determination.
"Captain."
"Mr. Worf, as you were."
"Permission to speak freely, sir?"
Riker stopped as he was ushering Solo into the holodeck.
"My opinion is she's got a great uppercut and a mean right hook and I
wouldn't like to meet her in a darkened sub-corridor. But she's on your
staff, technically it's your jurisdiction."
"If you would send her to my quarters?"
"I'll get her released from the Brig and send her down."
Data unhooked the inputs and dedicated the maximum possible runtime to the
problem. Lieutenant Ro was proving to be more troubling by the day.
** Republic Cruiser Excelsior. Perimiter space. **
The Excelsior completed it's sensor sweep. Ma'Baan double-timed across the
bridge to the console and leaned over to examine the screen. With
irritation, he dropped one pair his internal eyelids against the strong UV
light of the screen.
"The Sunfire is so much diced scrap, sir. We read plenty of TIE fighter
cannon strikes, but nothing big enough to reduce a modified Frigate to..."
he paused, lost for words, before gesturing helplessly at the wreckage.
"*that*. In fact, we read nothing at all. It's like something physically
mangled it. Scrunched it up like so much wet paper."
"Get the X-wings back on board and give me as much deep sensor scanning of
the surrounding space as you can. We're looking for a cloaked probe of
some sort. Watch all the frequencies for transmissions, even just bursts.
Order the crew to jump stations and divert all power to shields. Just keep
the dorsal turret arrays ready and a couple of proton torpedoes hot."
"Got it, sir. Should I transmit a signal to Coruscant-"
"Do I look like a Nerf-herder to you? This is way too hot to trust to
anything bar word of mouth. How about the black boxes?"
"The dorsal one's been found, slit neatly in two. They're bringing it in
anyway, in case the techs can retrieve anything. The bridge one is missing,
presumed destroyed, and the tail one's intact but, according to the
readings, utterly demagnetised. All the storage, even the core half-stack
unit that's supposed to survive even if you drop it from the ionosphere."
"I think it would be something of an understatement to say that things are
taking a distinctly nasty turn..." Ma'Baan said, blinking rapidly in his
agitation.
"Sir! I'm reading-" The sensor lieutenant never finished his sentence.
Ma'Baan saw it.
It was a raw hole in space, as if something had punched through from the
other side. To his sight, the rent blazed with colours : whirling,
cavorting, spilling ice-cold blues and fiery reds through the divide.
Something was straining through the hole, a ship of unfamiliar design.
"Jump to lightspeed! NOW! Magog and Rietzche save us all, go NOW!!!" The
first officer howled, and the navigator threw the lever. The stars blurred.
** The Ravenflight. Bridge. **
Picard looked up, slowly, barely daring to believe they might be back in
normal space. He looked for Q.
Q was immaculate, draped relaxedly across a velvet chaise longue that had
definitely not been on the bridge when they entered... whatever it was.
"Q?" Picard enquired, his voice betraying the tension.
"And the rest is silence." Q said, his voice almost serious.
"Are you alright?"
"What a ridiculous question. I'm Immortal, Picard, I don't catch head
colds or break bones or whatever it is you squishy lumps of protoplasm do."
"A simple yes would have done very adequately. Perhaps you'd care to get
"I am beginning to understand your reasons for striking the Ensigns, but
your actions against the higher officers puzzle me. Particularly your
attack on the captain."
"I didn't know he was the Captain. He wasn't in uniform."
Data accessed his "stern" physiology file at level 2.
"I took you for this post at the recommendation of Counsellor Troi. I trust
you will not render her faith in you unsupportable. That is all." he
reverted to standard pattern. "Now, we must disembark."
Deep Space Nine was an intriguing place, Data decided. The Cardassian
Architecture, while obviously more functional than decorative, had a
particular style to it that would bear more intense scrutiny at a later
date. He spotted O'Brien immediately.
"Data! Welcome to DS9. I got Sisko to let me greet you, so we can talk
about things while we go to his office. How are you?"
"My physical condition is highly satisfactory, Miles. How are you? And
how are Keiko and your daughter?"
"We're all fine, but there's some bad things going on in general. Gul
Dukat is in conference with Sisko at the moment : something about new
security arrangements..."
As they drew closer to Sisko's office, angry voices could be heard.
"...absolutely not! They're Federation citizens, they have a right to be
on this station-"
"The recent rise in Bajoran terrorist activity forces this move, Sisko. If
you expect us to attend the Diplomatic Talks here, we insist all
Bajorans are removed from the station first. Only under those conditions
will we attend. Otherwise, you can - frankly - forget it." There was a
tight, cruel smile that accompanied those words.
"I will not be party to the wholesale removal of every Bajoran on this
station. I will not condone such blatant racism-"
"And we will not expose our personnel to risk, Sisko. Starfleet Command
have authorised this : I challenge you to take it up with them."
There was a moment's silence.
"Gul Dukat, I hereby... accede to your request, although I note for the
record that I personally object to this on the grounds that it is
discrimination of the worst kind. I'll begin clearing the station at
mid-day tomorrow. Now, if you'll excuse me?"
Gul Dukat walked out, past Data and O'Brien. His face bore a look of
tightly contained victory.
O'Brien watched him go with a sour face. Then he knocked quietly on
Sisko's door.
"Commander Data to see you, sir."
"Come in. Welcome to Deep Space Nine, Commander Data. I want to talk to
you about your withdrawal from the Logistics Conference. Excuse me for a
moment, won't you?" He tapped the communicator.
"Major Kira to my Office in ten minutes, please." he tapped it again to
close the channel, and turned to Data with an expectant look.
"I have received a communication from an old friend who wishes me to
investigate a disturbance in the Sigma Foxtrot sector. I intend to leave my
staff here to take notes on the conference for me."
"If it's reason enough for you, then it's reason enough for me. But a lot
of those who are attending were wanting to see you there. I only point it
out because they might be disappointed if you don't attend."
"I feel that this request takes precedence..."
A short, intense woman burst into the office.
wash over the woman, a wave of bitter grief and pain that did not show
itself in Mon Mothma's fine-sculpted face "-that they hold Commander
Skywalker. Or another factor entirely may enter the equation."
A comm officer leapt to his feet and hurried towards them.
"Mon Mothma, Admiral Ackbar sir, the Excelsior just jumped in. The Sunfire
has been destroyed. And they report a... rip in space from which something
was emerging."
"Order the Fleet to standby." Ackbar said, his voice carrying clearly
across the stunned room. "Prepare for war."
"Thanks."
"Call me Nerys." Kira said with a small smile.
** Enterprise. Conference room. **
"Mr Crusher... Wes. This is entirely off the record. You've... changed a
lot, since our last tour together. You're sharper, more professional...
and colder"
"Captain, I don't want to discuss this-"
"Dammit, Wes, this isn't Captain Riker talking to you, this is Will. I
want to know, as a friend. What happened to the Wes Crusher I used to know?"
Wes' shoulders slumped.
"You probably know the Traveller told me to go back to Starfleet. He said
I needed the change. Quoted Dune, in fact : 'Change stirs something
inside, wakes a part of us that is normally asleep. The Sleeper must
awaken.' So I did as I was told. I spent a lot of time talking with
Boothby, with Admiral Picard when he was on Earth. But I just didn't feel
the same. I didn't belong, anywhere. I hadn't belonged in Starfleet since
the... incident. But it was worse than that. Everything seemed old, and
tired, and not a part of the world I used to know. It was like all the
colour had drained out of the universe. I drifted from one meaningless
relationship to another, I did as little work as possible. Then I ran into
Robin again. She was doing an advanced course with some of the same
modules as me. We... spent a lot of time together. For a while, I felt like
I had some meaning back in my life." He fell silent.
"What happened next?" Prompted Will quietly.
"We were doing that test on the Moonbase - you know, where one
of the Cadets is supposed to be an agent, and you have to defend yourself?
Everyone is so suspicious of each other they fight it out, without any
need for intervention. Robin and I worked together, because we knew we
could trust each other. But..." He paused. "A maintenance sweep had missed
a damaged catwalk. I went over it first, and she followed... Half way
across, the whole section she was on sheared off and fell, taking her with
it. I dived for her, ripped my cheek open on a torn strut..." a finger
traced the scar, almost in reflex. "She didn't die. Gravity wasn't strong
enough. But her back was broken in two places. She didn't blame me. Not
even through the hours of regen therapy, not even when she fell again and
again trying to walk, not ever. But I blamed myself. And I promised myself
that I'd never put myself in a position where I could hurt someone that
badly again."
Will nodded.
"Wes, I don't know what to say... except that there are times when you're
stuck between the Devil and cold black vacuum, and then you've got to risk
it. Theres a good line from an old film. 'You take a chance getting up in
the morning, crossing the Street, or sticking your face in a fan.'"
That brought a small smile to Wes' face, and for a second, Riker saw a
flash of the old Wes.
"Point taken, Captain. I'll think it through."
"Wes... Don't think you have to carry the whole burden. Deanna will always
be there if you want a pro, but if you just want to talk... follow the
sound of the trombone."
That really did make Wes smile. "I'll listen for the bum notes. Now, I
think I'm due on the bridge."
** ISD Invictus. Hesk's quarters. **
Hesk was sitting cross-legged in his room, fighting with himself, when
there was a flash of light.
"Well, well, well. What do we have here?" came the familiar, arrogant voice.
"Q." Acknowledged Hesk. He shifted his position slightly.
Q sighed. "Now I know why I was so keen to get rid of you. Always
aggressive, aren't you?"
"Of course. One of the finer traits the Continuum saw to it that I got."
"You remember, then?"
"Oh, yes. Very, very clearly, now." His eyes flared. "You SONOFABITCH!" He
uncurled into a leap. Q stopped him in midair with a gesture.
"Not a good move. You've learned nothing since we abandoned you. I just
came to tell you... I'm here to correct a few mistakes. And you, my sticky
friend, are number one on my to-do list." He leaned closer to Hesk's
contorted face. "If I were you, and thank the continuum I'm not, I'd be
watching my back every moment of the day and night."
Through what titanic effort Q did not know, but Hesk forced words through
his immobile throat.
"I'll have your steaming corpse at my feet next time, Q."
Q smiled.
"My friend, you are already dead. I've seen you killed. What I'm going to
do will be much worse. Much, much worse." He raised two fingers to his
temple, saluted casually. "Be seeing you."
He vanished, and Hesk fell to the deck. But Q's mocking laughter echoed
through the chamber.
There came a signal at the door.
"Admiral Raust wants to-"
Hesk tore the man's stomach out and left him choking blood on the floor.
He began to walk towards Raust's quarters. A young ensign was a little
slow in getting out of his way, and Hesk ripped his terrified face off for
him. He glowered at the others in the corridor, and dived into them with a
scream of anger. By the time he reached Raust's quarters, he was coated in
blood.
He practically ripped the door off its tracks as he entered.
"What!" he screamed, flecks of blood flying from his lips.
Raust turned the baleful glow of his bionic eye on Hesk.
"Look at this."
He pointed at the screen. On it the blue-red tear in the void showed. The
Ravenflight appeared.
"If you examine this ship, you'll notice some interesting things about it."
Hesk glowered.
"It's an Old Republic ship. Substantially altered, but I'd know those
lines anywhere. That, there on the screen, is a Koenyessar Maktor IV. More
commonly known as the StarSword."
Hesk shrugged.
"That line was built specifically for use by one particular group of people."
He paused, for effect. "The Jedi."
Sigma Foxtrot sector. Worf issued a few rapid commands in Klingon, then
turned to Data and his party.
"We've got very little to start with beyond Admiral-" He stopped. "Beyond
Picard's co-ordinates. And your knowledge."
He turned on the main viewscreen, showing a three dimensional map of the
local sectors.
"So, Mr Data, If you would give me your analysis?"
"The information I received from Jean-Luc was what might be termed
'Sketchy'. In essence, the information does not correspond to any known
craft, nor to the particular design ideas of any known race. I would
suggest we continue to the site of the destroyed craft and examine it there."
"Major Kira? Lieutenant Ro? Do you have anything to add?"
"If I were new to this sector... which most of the indicators would seem
to suggest... then I'd stay very much where I was. Staying where you are
means you get familiar with the locale, and you don't risk running into an
angry neighbour in unfamiliar territory. It's a different matter entirely
if they know this area well : but for a group trapped behind enemy lines,
in uncertain territory, staying where you are is the smartest thing you
can do. It's not a good thing, but it's your best option." Ro said,
quietly. Kira nodded.
"I go with that."
"There is one more point. We do not know whether these ships have the
technology to penetrate the cloaking field. How much energy can we direct
to battle systems before the Cloak becomes inactive?" Data asked.
"With minimal life support and Artificial gravity, we can be battle ready
about sixty seconds after dropping the field. Remember, though, that we
can always turn and run."
Data tipped his head to one side, and one of the Klingons on the bridge
choked.
"I have learned that discretion is the better part of valour, and that to
live to fight another day is better than to die in a futile battle.
Besides, we can then repower the weapons and be ready for them in a
moment. It would be a great thing to die in battle for the Empire... but
it would be a Greater thing to win that battle."
There were small murmurs of agreement from some of the Klingons, although
one or two rumbled their disapproval. Worf turned his glare on them and
they fell silent.
Worf took the command chair.
"Co-ordinates laid in and set." Data reported.
"Engage." Worf said. Data thought he saw, just for a second, a small smile
on Worf's face.
** The Ravenflight. Bridge **
Picard was just debating what to do in his head when Koigot called.
"Got it. Slight subspace distortion off the port bow, range point one A.U.
Weapons lock laid in."
"See if you can just cripple it. It might tell us something."
"Okay."
He tapped the panel, and a red-orange beam flared from above the cockpit.
The beam struck something, and for a second, a multi-appendaged metal lump
showed up, spiralling helplessly. A split second later, it blew up.
"I didn't hit it that hard... must have had a self destruct." Koigot said.
"Definitely not any known design." Lansen said from the sensor console.
"It was an Imperial Probe Droid." The Raven said, his voice a ghostly whisper.
Tallera turned on him.
"Time for total truth between us." She said, using the Vulcan phrase.
"You already know that this is my galaxy. I was... I still am, a Jedi
Knight. The Jedi were the binding force of the Republic, a force for peace
and justice whose power came from the Force."
"That's what you meant when you were talking to Q." Picard said, as the
memory came back to him. "You said 'The force is with me.' I assumed you
meant that we would side with you..."
"The Force is a field that surrounds all life. It binds us together, it
flows about us and through us... it partially controls our destiny, but we
can shape our destiny with its use. But as there is Good and Evil, so
there are two sides to the force. One of our own, a young Jedi called
Annakin Skywalker, came into the employ of Senator Palpatine. Palpatine
gathered an army and took the Republic by force, forming an Empire. Under
the direction of Skywalker, we were systematically hunted down. He himself
cornered me on Vokos. There was a duel fit for epics. I won, but only
barely. I flung him into a pit of Lava, and knew that I was doomed. I had
acted in anger, forsaken my Jedi training. I had begun the journey to the
Dark Side. I fled. Later, I heard that Skywalker had crawled from the pit,
more dead than alive, and become a machine-man obsessed with vengeance. He
became Darth Vader, taking his name from the prophesy of destruction in
the Jedi Book. There was no hope remaining. I took myself into deep space
: this very sector. I had planned to space myself in penance, but
something caught my ship and hurled me through the void. And,
unbelievably, I found myself without the Force. In your galaxy, a great
evil hides... I believe Captain Kirk encountered it, on the Enterprise-A.
It is contained by a barrier of energy. That barrier drains the Force from
the galaxy, to contain the evil within. So, I found myself alone, lost, and
half-blinded without my Force Sense. But I realised that without the Force,
I could not hear and need not heed the call of the Dark Side. And so I
settled, content to live out my time here, to leave behind the wars of my
home."
"Why did you let us convince you to return?"
"One of your playwrights expressed it well. 'I Could be bounded in a
nutshell, and count myself king of infinite space, were it not that I have
bad dreams.'"
"Hamlet." Said Picard, nodding.
"I am preoccupied as he. 'To be or not to be. Whether 'tis nobler in the
mind to bear the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune, or take arms
against a sea of troubles, and by opposing, end them... To sleep,
perchance to dream... aye, there's the rub. For what dreams may come, when
we have shuffled off this mortal coil, must give us pause.'"
Tallera snorted.
"I cannot understand your people's ability for procrastination. We sit
here waiting for something to happen-"
"Ah, she's proably right." Said Lansen from the Sensor station. "I read
something incoming-"
There should have been a noise of some sort. But in space, all is silent.
So, quietly, without fuss, a huge ship appeared above them,
incomprehensibly vast.
The Ravenflight shook.
"They've got a tractor lock!" Lansen yelled, and his face was one of terror.
"That's a Star Destroyer." Said the Raven, calmly. "Quickly now. Nothing
but fast and sure moves will save us."
Silently, the others followed him.
** Enterprise. Bridge. **
"The Warp core has been stabilised." Data reported. "It will hold for
speeds no greater than Warp Two, but it will hold."
"Cloaking field went down when they fired that Ion weapon. It's a
fused lump. Infra-Red reports three small fires, all being contained.
Shield generators damage, mostly light, Structural damage negligible, Core
systems mostly unaffected. We'll hold together, I think." The Klingon at
the engineering station reported. Data heard his soto voce comment : "You
hear me, Fury? Hold together."
Worf relaxed visibly.
"Is that it?"
"Not by a long shot." Ro reported. "We've got new company."
"Red Alert." Worf said, sounding tired. "Once more unto the breech."
The Modified Frigate bore down on them, turbolasers blazing.
The Raven and Hesk were mere inches apart when time froze.
Q smiled at Hesk's immobile face.
The action was entirely mental, but, mostly for effect, he passed his hands
across Hesk's eyes and snapped his fingers in front of his face.
Hesk dissolved.
In his place, two entities formed. The Gestalt consciousness shattered like
glass, forming for each nothing more than a scattered handful of memories.
The Dark One was a formless blob of black liquid, fluid like oil, sticky
like tar.
"I've taken everything that makes you what you are." Q said, lightly.
"I've taken all your precious memories, all the perception of the future
that you're so proud of. Since we shed you here, before moving on to
pastures new, you have been a continual thorn in the Continuum's side. And
now, you will not even know that. You will be a concentration of evil,
without knowledge, without form, a worthless skin of evil. But I will give
you your old name back."
He leaned closer to the shapeless mass, lowered his voice.
"Armus."
With a thought, he hurled the thing from him, across the light-years and
the twisting pathways of time, to a planet in the far-distant galaxy that
would, in the Armus' future, see the demise of Tasha Yar.
"C'est la vie." Commented Q, feeling almost mournful. He turned to the
remaining part : the part that held the name of Hesk.
"Hmmm." He considered the albino skin, the malformed face, and shook his head.
"It'll have to go." He said, in the manner of an artist considering a
finished piece.
Not that the real Hesk was, in any respect, finished. The clone of Annakin
Skywalker, made in an attempt to replace the badly-injured Skywalker who
had crawled from the lava pit, had failed abysmally. Skywalker's
DNA had been badly damaged, and the result had been a thing that was of no use
to the Emperor. It had been cast aside, drifting, until it had encountered
the creature shaped from the negative outpourings of a race of nascent
immortals. The two had merged, become one, a creature uncertain of mind but
possessed of incredible anger and power. Enough power to alert the
Continuum and set this plan in motion.
Q flourished his hand and the thing took on the form of the Gestalt once
more.
"Nice." he commented to himself. He produced a quick double of his current
form, who patted him on the back before fading out.
"A good bit of work."
He sighed.
"Oh well," he commented to no-one in particular, "I suppose I'd better let
"I don't like this, Picard. It's too quiet. They're planning something."
"Silence, please. The maestro is in concert." Lansen said. The lock on the
door was completely unfamiliar to him, but a lock was a lock wherever it
came from...
On the bridge, Raust watched the deploying Republic fleet.
"Ackbar's stamp is on this. Watch the Mon Calamari. Order the main gun
charged and re-deploy the fighters. As soon as you identify the command
ship, target it and fire."
Hesk and the Raven slashed, stabbed, circled. Koigot's phaser was still
playing merry hell with the troopers foolish enough to enter his line of fire.
The impasse held.
Hesk found himself winning. His opponent was faltering, falling back. He
hissed through his teeth.
"Do you know the expression, 'To bate an ace'?" The Raven enquired, and a
horrible doubt entered Hesk's mind.
"To concede an early advantage to an opponent in order to ensure his
eventual destruction." The Raven finished, deflecting a swipe. He
somersaulted backwards.
Hesk watched him, wary of some new trick.
The Raven shut down the lightsaber.
Hesk sneered in victory.
"Now, you die!" he crowed, and he lunged.
The Raven threw up his hands and dark lightning crackled. The wicked
fingers of force-driven electricity tore into him, into his soul. The
Raven's eyes burned like fire.
Hesk clawed at empty air and screamed as the Raven's fearsome power raged
through his system. Here was power driven beyond all care for self, beyond
control, power driven by a bitterness and hatred so deep that not even
Hesk, the embodiment of evil, could encompass it.
Hesk fell to his knees, sparks arcing to the decking.
For a moment, the Raven held back. Enough of his old, honourable self
remained for that. But it was trickling out of him, the last grains of
humanity pouring through the neck of the hourglass, leaving the vacuum
blackness of the Sith.
Hesk, his body shaking as though possessed, forced his head up.
"Do you not even have the strength to finish what you began?" he spat.
"The journey is complete." The Raven said, his voice filled with pain.
He sent forth the force-lightning once more, and Hesk died.
From the decking, He picked up Hesk's fallen Lightsaber. The Dark Side
held him, now, a prison from which death would be his only escape. But
here... this weapon had been crafted and wielded by a Jedi of a subtle new
mastery, a Jedi of greater scope than any he had seen in his long life. To
his force sense, it glowed with the power of freedom and justice. Not even
Hesk's evil had tainted it. He threw it to Koigot.
"This belongs to the person Q would have you rescue. Return it to them."
Koigot looked at him questioningly.
"It is a high and lonely path I tread. I cannot walk this road : nor can I
turn back. It ends here."
He sighed, and the huge figure seemed smaller, as if broken by the weight
it carried.
"But if I am to die, it might as well be a glorious death. Remember my
name. Tell the others I bid them the last farewell."
He turned on his heel and began his journey to the heart of the storm.
"We've got heavy subspace radiation across the whole spectrum -"
A sadly battered Bird of Prey burst through the rift.
On the bridge of the Heart of Fury, Data saw the enterprise and tapped his
comm badge.
"Data hailing enterprise. We need to beam out-"
A proton torpedo slammed into the hull of the Enterprise.
"We're losing power to primary systems!" Geordi reported from engineering.
"They hit a main junction point!"
"Data, we're losing power. You'll have to beam over to us. Alexander, wide
spread of phaser bursts, now!"
Data assessed the situation. Before he could speak, Worf spoke.
"I will stay. We can only beam five. Remember my name."
Data lifted Kira effortlessly and ran to the transporter, Ro and the two
Klingon officers on his heels.
Worf stared at the huge grey craft before them, and smiled as the computer
slurred the countdown to warp core breach.
"In Death, I honour your lives.
I will not feed the hungry mouth of War in vain..."
Data materialised on the pad and lowered Kira abruptly to the deck. He
leapt to the console and blurred his hands over the controls.
Over fifteen of the decks, lighting failed.
Worf stared down at himself as the sparkles took him away.
On the bridge of the Invictus, Raust closed the contact to the main gun.
He choked blood, and the light in his implant died.
Over the surface of the Invictus, sparks arced.
"Get us the hell out of here!"
The Enterprise leapt clear, her impulse engines blazing like the stars themselves.
The Bird of prey exploded. Antimatter spewed, and the tattered wreck of
the Heart of Fury became the heart of a fireball, a blast propogated at
the speed of light. The explosion raged against the unresisting texture of
the void and the relatively insignificant mass of one Imperial Star Destroyer.
The nose of the craft swung wide, and the helix of pure force tore through the
cordon of Imperial craft like a chainsaw. Plasma fire erupted from
ruptured reactors, shattering those unaffected by the beam itself. Within
seconds, the Imperial fleet was decimated, and space itself boiled with
the ferocity of the explosion.
Out of the fire blasted the Enterprise, her hull charred and pitted, but
her running lights and warp nacelles burning bright and defiant.
In the transporter room, Worf looked at Data almost angrily.
"You have denied me a glorious death."
Data considered.
"Yes. In order that you may go on to greater glories."
Worf's face split in a grin, and he roared with laughter.
Luke was still weak, despite the best care the Enterprise and the Republic
could offer, but he took his accustomed place at the council table for the
meeting.
"You could stay with us, you know. The clean-up from that battle won't be
easy, and we could use more people like you." Leia said.
Picard shook his head.
"Q is adamant that we return to our place tomorrow at latest. He's off
doing things on his own at the moment, but he'll come back. He always does."
"But we'll throw you a party for tonight," Han said with a lopsided grin.
"Sounds good." Lansen piped up, and the others smiled.
"We'll see you in the main hall in four hours. Until then." Mon Mothma
concluded.
Picard fiddled with his uniform. After so long out of Regulation clothing,
it felt vaguely strange. His little team of Mercenaries formed a knot of
colour amid the Starfleet uniforms : Tallera in black combat leathers,
looking somehow relaxed and alert at the same time, Koigot in a metallic
blue tunic and loose trousers, Lansen beaming happily in a colourful silk
jacket that made him look like a harlequin, and Vash resplendant in a
floor-length red dress that she had borrowed from Deanna. He came to
attention as the doors ground open, and had to clench his jaw to stop it
dropping.
It looked like the entire republic had turned out to see them. Stirring
music began from the orchestra seated to one side of the chamber, but even
their huge numbers did not make a dent in the total of people in the room.
He summoned his reserves of dignity and struck out, striding in time to
the music, along the huge concourse to the distant dais where Mon Mothma,
Leia, Luke, and all the others stood. The others fell into step with him
faultlessly, heads up, eyes bright.
The music reached a crescendo as they began to mount the steps, stirring
the blood in Picard's veins. He normally detested Martial music, but this
was something else. As they came closer to Mon Mothma, the music fell in
volume, dropping into the background.
Mon Mothma tipped her head upwards.
"For their Deeds at the Battle Of The Rift, and for the rescue of
Commander Skywalker from Imperial captivity, The New Republic honours the
crew of the Enterprise with this token of our appreciation."
She placed a golden medallion around the necks of Picard, Riker, and Worf.
They turned together to face out across the vast hall as the music rose
once more. The applause almost drowned it out.
Han climbed the steps, with Guinan at his side.
"Ladies and Gentlemen, We have a little announcement to make!" Han grinned.
The two glanced at one another, and then cried in unison,
"The Bar is Open!"
The revelries began.
Across the great hall, dancers whirled, but here and there, people stood
alone. Picard was sipping a cup of Earl Grey that Guinan had provided for
him in passing when Luke stepped to his side.
"I don't know if this will work where you are going, but I thought you
might like to have it. I made one up especially."
Picard took the lightsaber from Luke.
"I don't know how to thank you-" Picard began.
"This is my thank-you, for what you did for me." He extended his hand, and
the two men shook.
"I have to go. I'm going with Commander Katarn to retrieve Artoo and my