Let me know what you think: WORLDS WITHOUT END REDUX Act I CHAPTER I. In the endless void between the stars the mile-long form of a starship moved silently, its chalk-white surface in perfect contrast with the infinite night. The almost casual motion of this ship and its two escorts was quietly observed. Star Destroyers, a powerful front-line ship for the Galactic Empire, and a source of terror across its territory. The recent arms race with the guerrilla movement to overthrow their leadership had continued to push their weapons technology further. It is this short time right now when that Empire would be at its strongest, when they have their most advanced technologies and an intact chain of command. "Yes," said a voice with satisfaction, unconcerned with such physical limitations on sound in a vacuum. "This will do nicely." When those words were spoken, a change took place that was to be felt across the universe. In some parts of the galaxy, some special individuals noticed inexplicable feelings of uncertainty and dread. For the two remaining masters of the Force, each the polar opposite of his counterpart, it produced a disturbance unlike any they had ever experienced in their long lives. And while these two were wont to agree on anything, both could sense the potential doom that had come into being. On the other side of the universe a hopelessly mismatched battle was about to come to its inevitable conclusion. One was the Federation Starship Voyager, which has been cut off from its people for over five years. Its opponent was a gigantic ship belonging to the Federation's greatest enemy: the Borg. Unlike Voyager, it was heavily-armed and effectively shielded, and there was no doubt who would be the victor. But as it happened, this single battle between two rather insignificant ships was in fact the most important one in all of history, although neither side knew it. "Any signs of other vessels in the vicinity," asked Captain Kathryn Janeway, commander of Voyager. "Negative, captain," Ens. Kim replied. "No other vessels in range of our sensors." The ship rocked under the impact of another Borg weapon. "Direct hit, Deck 12," reported Lt. Tuvok at Tactical. Janeway's first officer, Comm. Chakotay, stepped to her side. In all crises he was her closest advisor. Unfortunately, there was little to offer under the present circumstances. "Maybe there's somewhere we can hide," he offered, "at least for a little while. Give us a chance to patch the ship together." The ship was struck again, and below in Astrometrics, Seven of Nine was hastily examining their sensor readings. The fact that she was a Borg herself was only relevant in that she knew what she was fighting to escape. If there was any irony in her mind being pitted against the hive collective that had trained her it was lost on her. "Anything that can provide some cover?" Janeway asked over the comm. "Nothing yet, captain," Seven replied, her voice even despite the anxiousness of the moment. Seven was not one to panic, regardless of the situation. She was adjusting the long-range sensors in the vain hope of finding something when her console began to beep for her attention. She tapped the panel and her brow furrowed in momentary confusion. "Captain," she said, "Sensors have picked up what appears to be a wormhole less than five hundred thousand kilometers from here." The ship shuddered again, and Seven could feel the explosive decompression despite the room's seal. They wouldn't last much longer. "How the hell did we miss that?" Janeway asked. "It's practically on our doorstep." "I'm not sure," Seven said, looking at the readings. "But it is a wormhole." She continued tapping the panel as she analyzed the readings. "Stable, but I have no idea where it leads." Seven's stomach twisted as the inertial dampeners failed for a fraction of a second. She passed the coordinates on to Navigation. "Away from here, and that's good enough for me," Janeway said. "Alter course, Mr. Paris." Voyager turned tightly, and the cube altered direction to pursue. Not long after, space opened up and swallowed both of them without a trace. Standing on the main deck of the Star Destroyer Incaciad, Admiral Thrawn gazed at the space beyond. His crew was far too busy ensuring the smooth running of the ship to pay much attention, and even less time to wonder what he might be looking at, or thinking about. It was a pointless exercise anyway; few could understand all that went on behind those alien eyes, and yes he was alien. His ascent to his current rank did nothing to change that fact in the minds of the Imperial Navy, although it mattered little to those under his command. Whatever feelings they might have for non-humans were suspended for the grand admiral, and newcomers to the ship were quickly educated in that fact by his crew. It takes extraordinary effort to overcome a prejudice; but then, there was nothing ordinary about Thrawn. As it happened, he was thinking about the future, and how the galaxy was going to change soon. The Empire was constructing a second Death Star at Endor, supposedly more powerful than the first. Rather redundant in Thrawn's estimation; a planet-destroying weapon's only real benefit was in overwhelming planetary shields, which the first Death Star was quite capable of doing. Even then, in practical military terms it wasn't a terribly effective weapon. Perhaps to eliminate the center of your enemies' leadership or to terrify a populace into surrender, but what good, in the end, was blowing up a planet you want to conquer? The Death Star was useful, but the extra effort was a bit of a waste in Thrawn's estimation. According to the secret communication, the Death Star's construction was behind, and Darth Vader and the Emperor would oversee the final stages of construction in person. Yes, the Emperor was leaving the impenetrable security of Coruscant to personally observe the construction of an inoperable and defenseless battlestation. Seemed rather obvious a trap, but the Rebels had been suffering several setbacks, and the Emperor's rather obvious trap did have a particularly attractive piece of bait. He considered who might be commanding the Imperial forces; probably Piett. Not a bad commander, but not a very brilliant tactician either. Thrawn was just considering some attack scenarios, were he in charge, when he heard one of the crewmen speaking to Captain Jarrol. "Sir, two ships have appeared on our scope." Thrawn turned around and looked down towards the young man. There was almost a sense of casualness about the way he acted. "Out of hyperspace?" "No sir," the crewman quickly responded to Thrawn, "they just appeared out of nowhere." "Indeed," replied Thrawn, still nonplused. "Let's have a look," he said as he stepped towards the control station. He didn't waste time telling the crew to raise the shields; they knew what he expected of them. He examined the ships for several seconds. They were clearly alien, and they didn't share any similar designs. The smaller ship was visibly damaged, but if the larger cube-shaped vessel was responsible, it showed no interest in making the kill just yet. "Admiral," Jarrol said, returning from a quick discussion with his deck officer, "we have an intruder on board. Engineering." "I assume you're not referring to a rebel spy." "No," Jarrol said. "According to witnesses it appeared out of thin air." "'It?'" Thrawn replied. Jarrol offered him the datapad and Thrawn looked at the intruder. Mechanical components, but obviously a living thing. "A cyborg," he said quietly. "It made no threatening motions," Jarrol continued. "But when it didn't heed instructions it was shot. They're taking it to the infirmary to study it." Thrawn looked up from the datapad to the two ships beyond the windows. "So," he asked no one in particular, "which one did you come from?" "Sir, we're receiving a hail from the cubical vessel," an officer reported. The sudden voice was chilling, as if a million voices were speaking as one in some horrible chant. "We are the Borg. We have analyzed your defensive capabilities and judged them to be inadequate. Lower your shields and surrender your ships. We will add your distinctiveness to our own. You will adapt to service us. Resistance is futile." On board the battered remains of Voyager, Captain Janeway rose from her chair. "Hail them again." Lt. Tuvok sent the message, but... "No response." "Captain," Harry Kim said anxiously, "the Borg have beamed over to the alien ship, the center one." "How many drones?" "One." Ens. Kim checks his instruments. "They must have beamed over while their shields were still down." Janeway turned to her first officer, unable to hide her confusion. "Why would they not answer our hails? If they were hostile, why haven't they fired? If they're peaceful, why ignore us?" "Perhaps their communication technology is incompatible with ours," he offered. "We did receive energy readings earlier which may have been a communication device," Tuvok informed them. Janeway turned, her hand stroking her chin. Finally she walked towards the turbolift with a quick gait. "Analyze those signals, see if you can communicate with them. I'll be in engineering - we still have a ship to put back together." Thrawn watched the Cube advance. It was certainly big, but there was no visible sign of any armored defenses, a rather odd construction given the appearance of the cyborg below. "Flank them," Thrawn ordered, and the Kartinian and Lucinda advanced on the Cube while the Incaciad moved into position. "Have the fighter crews standing by," he ordered, "but don't launch until my order." "Commander," Tuvok said, "the energy signal the Borg sent earlier was similar in nature to the one we received from the alien vessels. It might be their method of communication." "Look at modifying our communications equipment to broadcast using those signals," Chakotay said. "Whatever their intentions, we've got to warn them before the Borg try something." "Looks like we're too late for that," Tom Paris, Voyager's pilot, said as Chakotay's attention returned to the screen. "It's heading right for them." Chakotay took a deep breath. "Let's hope they learn quickly," he said quietly. "Use the Ion Cannons," Thrawn said, his voice with a steel edge to it. "Perhaps we can take it intact." Silvery-blue beams launched from the three star destroyers, washing over the Cube's surface. It was clear that they were striking the ship itself, but there was no noticeable effect, not even on the sensors. "Cease fire," Thrawn said. There was an unusual tone to his voice, as if he were about to make a chess move right into a trap that he could feel was there but couldn't quite see. "Turbolasers," he ordered. While the message was relayed to the stations Jarrol stepped over to Thrawn's side. "Shall we launch our missiles as well?" he asked. Thrawn didn't answer at first, he just stared at the image of the cyborg on his datapad. "No," he said finally. "And no fighters. Just fire our lasers and let's see what happens." Due to the sheer size of the Borg Cube the star destroyersr>turned their ships so the heavy turbolaser batteries on their dorsal side could all be brought to bear, much like it did during a Base Delta Zero. That much firepower could normal eradicate all life on a world in little time, and with the rate the plasma bolts tore through the tritanium hull of the Cube it seemed that would be the case here as well. But for the Borg the purpose of the attack wasn't to fight, it was to learn about this new species. Their scans had revealed new types of technology, and what little information their lost drone had gathered indicated that there was some that could be of use to the Collective. Because even though they had been cut off from the hive mind, the Borg never for a moment deviated from their purpose: to consume technology and cultures that would increase their own perfection. That it would involve their own destruction wasn't even a factor. The Voyager bridge crew watched in amazement as the cube was slowly torn to pieces by the aliens with few retaliatory shots of their own. The last time they'd seen anything like this--the only time actually--was Species 8472. It was clear that Chakotay wasn't the only one thinking that. "It doesn't look like the Borg have adapted yet," Harry Kim observed. "I don't think they'll get the chance," Chakotay said as a corner ten times Voyager's size broke off from the main mass of the Cube. Paris swiveled nervously in his pilot's chair. "I hate to be the pessimist here," he remarked, his eyes glued to the screen. "But, I have a feeling they're not going to just ignore us after they're through with the Borg." Chakotay had been thinking the same thing. "Any progress, Tuvok?" "I believe I have the answer," Tuvok said, "but I am unable to send the response." "Was the comm system damaged?" Chakotay asked as he came around to the tactical panel. "Negative. But there is a powerful distortion field that's blocking our ability to communicate." "Some kind of energy noise," Harry Kim said. "It's playing havoc with our sensors as well. I think it's coming from those alien ships." Any further discussion was halted when the Cube ruptured in a series of smaller explosions as individual power distribution nodes failed. Random debris scattered across space, buffeting Voyager with shrapnel. Mercifully the shields held, but as they watched the three ships responsible close on their location it was clear that was where there good fortune ended. It was fifty thousand lightyears from where the battle just ended to the Imperial capital of Coruscant, but for a master of the Force distance was something that happened to other people. The Emperor hadn't moved since he had summoned Mara Jade hours before. His meditation was so deep she wondered if he would ever return. It was clear why she had been called here; with Vader overseeing construction on the Death Star she was the only one left who could feel that he was still alive. Even this deep there was no mistaking the powerful impression he left on the fabric of life, a neutron star on the rubber sheet that was the Force. Despite herself Mara jumped when he spoke. "There is a great disturbance in the force." "Yes master, you have told me." She tried to disguise her fear. There was something different about him, but she was afraid to probe it for fear of rebuke or, even worse, actually discovering what it was. "No, not that. No mere Jedi can do this. This is something... alien." Mara Jade had received little training in the Force, so she could only wait while her master pondered what he'd felt. He seemed to reach a decision. "You will remain here with me on Coruscant." That hadn't been what she'd expected. "But, I was to kill Skywalker." "He is no longer a cause for concern," the Emperor said flatly. "We must prepare for an even greater challenge." He stood up and reached out for Mara. "Come." Mara climbed the steps and then knelt before him. "Are you prepared to give up the life you have led until now? Will you leave that person behind, if it meant limitless power at my side?" "Yes,my master," she said. Immediately she felt her mind stabbed. It was hate, a cold hate, a hate that was born from isolation in the frozen stars, a hate weaned on pain and nurtured by abandonment and isolation. It was a hatred so black it consumed the light, boundless and barren, it allowed no room for pity or mercy or compassion, but it offered a strength that Mara could never have imagined. It had been an instant, and it had been forever, but the sensation ended and Mara found herself panting on the stairs to the Emperor's throne. "Rise," he ordered, but with a touch of friendship to his voice. "It is time to begin your training, my young apprentice."
Thanks! It's not complete yet, and will need some editing but yes, why I do have more. Enjoy! CHAPTER II. On a small, isolated world in a back corner of the galaxy that the universe seemed to have forgotten, there was a single settlement. On this world sat a tiny mud hut which happened to be the home of one of the two most powerful masters of the Force that lived. If any had somehow found themselves in this particular area of the swampy planet they would have heard the sound of a heated argument between that master and a particularly unruly student. "Unfortunate that I know the truth?!" Luke Skywalker exclaimed, unable to restrain his frustration. To have spent years believing that his father had been a champion of good only to learn that he was the very symbol of darkness wasn't easy, and the fact that his teachers had deliberately perpetuated that illusion made it all the more painful. Darth Vader, greatest enemy of all Luke held dear, was his own father. Considering the weight of that statement, he was taking it pretty well. "Not ready for the burden were you," Yoda said wearily, although Luke wasn't really listening. The master coughed, but whether it was to get his attention or just succumbing to his age was unclear. "There is a great evil coming. Stopped it must be. Time you will have, but squander it you must not. Mind what you have learned, save you it can." He was interrupted by another coughing fit. "Hear, and remember: Once you start down the dark path," he warned with a choke in his voice, "forever will it dominate your destiny." Luke could sense his master's lifeforce starting to fade, and his own concerns were pushed aside. "Master Yoda..." he said impotently, knowing that very soon he'd be gone, just like Ben... just like so many people he'd cared about. It was so hard to keep burying the people he loved, and now, when this horrible truth was placed before him, the one he most needed to guide him was going to die too. Master Yoda, sensing his fear, spoke to him, his voice broken as he struggled for every breath. "There... is... another... Skywalker." And with that, he vanished. After taking a few moments to come to terms with his grief, Luke exited the small hut and walked towards his ship. Artoo, the most loyal droid ever built, warbled at him with concern. Even he could tell something was wrong, and there definitely was. This was his burden now; Ben, Biggs, Uncle Owen, Aunt Beru, and now even Master Yoda, they were all gone, leaving him to face this impossible task. "I can't do it, Artoo," he said quietly, more to himself than to his droid. The emptiness weighed on his soul. "I can't go on alone." "Yoda will always be with you," a distant voice told him, and it took Luke a moment to realize he'd actually heard it out loud. "Obi-Wan," Luke said, feeling a mix of emotions. He was glad for the company of his long lost friend, but the lie was so fresh in his mind he couldn't hide his sense of betrayal. "Why didn't you tell me?" The shade sat on a log and Luke joined him, listening as the old man explained what had happened. His father had been the champion that he had remembered, but the promises of the dark side in the end had been too much for him. He had fallen... become so afraid of losing the woman he cared about that he'd become the agent of the evil the two of them had always fought so hard to stop. That was why Luke had been hidden away, to save him from the same fate as his mother; and so had she. "Leia," Luke said, the answer suddenly so clear. "Leia is my sister." "Your insight serves you well," Obi-Wan said with approval. Luke knew what he meant, that this wasn't his burden alone. If he could train his sister in the ways of the Force, if she too became a Jedi, there might be a way to accomplish the impossible. "There is still good in him," Luke told the elder. "Perhaps together-" "You have time," Obi-Wan said, "but not as much as you might think. You must prepare yourself for the destiny that awaits you. You face not only Darth Vader, but the Emperor and the forces of evil. Do not take Yoda's warning lightly." Luke could sense his teacher's anxiety. "I'm afraid that in the trials to come you will face enemies more powerful than you can possibly imagine." Luke was resolute. "I can save him." There was no doubt in his mind. "You must do what you must," Obi-Wan said. "But never forget what he is. Whatever has happened, destiny is clear. You will face Darth Vader again." Traveling across the universe, a single message defied physics by exceeding the speed of light due to a few scientific technicalities. Even then, it took centuries to cross the great emptiness between galaxies. It was a perfect metaphor for the eventual recipients: unfeeling, ever patient, inevitable. The Borg are not so much a force of arms as they are a force of nature. And when they received the message and learned about the existence of a race with new technology to acquire, their reaction was predictable. Unfeeling, and ever patient. It would be theirs; it was inevitable. Captain Janeway and her senior officers stood at attention in the main shuttlebay as they watched the Imperial ship dock. There was a palatable excitement in the room as the door opened and the first member of the Galactic Empire set foot on a Federation starship. Hours before, they had feared it would be as a conqueror. "They defeated the Borg," Janeway had said with dismay as Chakotay filled her in from the bridge. Her first officer nodded. "They made it look easy. We were nervous for a little while, but once Tuvok contacted them we were able to explain the situation. They're called the Galactic Empire." "I guess that means we're a little farther from home than we thought," Janeway said. Chakotay nodded. "Harry estimates we're on the other side of the known universe. Fortunately the wormhole is still stable, but I'm not sure heading back yet is such a good idea." "Agreed," Janeway said. "The last thing we need are more Borg looking for their missing cube." "Admiral Thrawn has offered to tow us to an Imperial station where we can repair the ship." And that was the man: Admiral Thrawn. The man who had destroyed a Borg Cube in minutes, and who had brought their ship to the station for repairs. What they hadn't realized was that the station was one hundred eighty light-years away, a journey of several weeks for Voyager. The Incaciad had done it in eleven minutes. As the captain of a ship trapped thirty-five thousand light-years from home, that wasn't the kind of thing you failed to notice. With that ability, Voyager could be home in days, and Janeway was ready to do anything to get her hands on it, even if she had to resort to stealing it. Janeway stepped forward and greeted Admiral Thrawn. His skin was blue, and his red eyes were rather intimidating, but he wore a friendly enough expression as she approached. He was polite as she made introductions and then began a tour of their ship. Eventually, he seemed to steer the conversation in a different direction. "I'm rather interested in that ship you were fighting," Thrawn said as they left astrometrics. "The Borg?" "The Borg," Janeway said, briefly reflected on her own experience with them. "Not exactly the friendliest of races from our side of the wormhole." "Certainly not very personable," Thrawn agreed. "Are they your enemies?" "Only in the sense that we exist," Janeway said as they entered the turbolift for the lower decks. "The Borg don't see anyone besides themselves as anything except raw materials." "Charming," Thrawn said as they exited the lift. A short way up thecorridor Janeway directed him to a door on the right. "This is our transporter room," Janeway said. Thrawn looked about it, his brow furrowed. "I'm not quite sure I understand." Janeway gestured towards the transporter pad. "This device allows us to break down matter in one location and reconstitute it in another." She was starting to feel hopeful; if this was technology alien to the Empire she could possibly trade it for their own technology: the hyperdrive. "You do this with people?" he said, attempting to hide his distaste. "It's perfectly safe," Janeway said a bit too quickly. Thrawn tapped his lips as he looked at the pad and the controls thoughtfully. "I could see how it could be useful in moving large amounts of cargo," he said finally. "I'm so glad to hear you say that," Janeway said with a smile that would put a Ferengi to shame. In a different part of the galaxy, near Sullust, Luke wasted little time in shedding his flight suit and heading down to the meeting room in Home One. He wasn't certain what was being discussed, but he knew it would revolve around the Emperor's new Death Star. Having already gone against one, he was leery about a repeat performance. In a group like the Rebel Alliance there's always an attempt to maintain military command and discipline, but in the end you are dealing with just bush pilots, pirates, and militia. The noise of the many arguments was a bit surprising, so Luke quickly slid over to where Leia Organa and Han Solo, his closest friends, were sitting. "What's going on?" he asked, noting the scowl on Han's face. "Just five hundred people with five hundred different ideas about how we should end the war," Han said cynically. "The Emperor has changed his plans," Leia said. Her face was a mask, but he could sense the conflict in her. She seemed uncertain about what they should do herself. "Originally he was going to inspect the Death Star, but now he seems content to wait for them to get on schedule themselves." Luke understood. "We were hoping to take advantage of it." "Exactly," Lando Calrissian said, taking a seat next to Luke. "The old man never leaves Coruscant, it would've been the perfect opportunity to take him out of the picture for good." "The Emperor is incidental," General Blissex said emphatically as the argument toned down slightly. "The Death Star is a weapon of unimaginable destruction and it must be destroyed." "Agreed," General Madine said, "But at what cost? We prepared for this assault knowing we had an opportunity to behead the Empire. Without the Emperor the Death Star is a less important target." "We need to do this now," Admiral Ackbar said. "With the weapons systems non-operational we stand our best chance against it." "It's too great a risk for too small a prize," Madine replied. "The plan commits all of our resources. If we attempt and fail the Alliance is finished, and with it any hope of restoring freedom to the galaxy." "If we wait, we only postpone the inevitable," General Blissex said. "The Empire has already proven this weapon is not for show. They used it against Alderaan because they sympathized with us. If that weapon is complete, no one is going to be willing to risk helping us. We'll lose our support and eventually be wiped out." "Princess Organa," Mon Mothma said over the din. "You are the senator from Alderaan. You've seen this weapon used first hand. What is your opinion of all this?" "She's not a military officer-" Blissex began, but wilted under Mon Mothma's stare. Leia took a deep breath, and Luke could feel that she was even more conflicted. "The Emperor does nothing on a whim," she said finally. "He has shown throughout his reign that he carefully plots out his every choice. His tight rein on the military high command is proof enough of that." Luke could sense the pain as she thought about her homeworld. "No one is more aware than I of the threat that weapon poses, but we can't let fear blind us to reality. The Emperor's sudden behavior is indicative of something important, more important than his pet project. Or, even worse, I fear he may have learned our intentions, and altered his plans accordingly." "How could he know?" General Reikken asked. "Are you suggesting a spy amongst us?" "I'm suggesting that the Emperor might have laid a trap for us at Endor," Leia said. "And if so we'd be fools to step into it. If not, if he changed his plans for some other reason, we may have our priorities out of order." "What could be more important than a Death Star?" Ackbar demanded. "That, admiral," Leia said, "is exactly what I'm afraid of finding out." After some time the group finally agreed to hold off on the attack until the rebel spy network was able to learn more about the Emperor's plans. There was still an almost funeral-like tension in the air, regardless of everyone's view of the decision. They had had their first real glimpse of the end, and it had been just as suddenly lost. But as Ben had told him, Luke had time ahead of him, and he planned to put it to good use. After the meeting he took Leia aside. He didn't want to have to do it now, given her own burden at the moment, but she had to know. "Leia," he said, finally finding the courage to say the words, "I need to tell you something... something rather incredible." Admiral Thrawn's smile vanished after Janeway was transported off the bridge of the Incaciad. It seemed like the woman would never shut up, but after three days of conversations -enough time for the engineering crews to install the new hyperdrive on Voyager- she had filled him in on much of what lay on the other side of that wormhole. Tens of thousands of splintered powers vying for their own little share of their galaxy. Thrawn had little doubt what the Emperor and his advisors would have in mind, and given his own proximity to the anomaly... he suspected he'd have a very interesting opportunity in that little ship. "Captain," he said, not even turning his head. "Yes, admiral," Captain Jarrol replied. "Have our fleet escort Voyager to the wormhole," Thrawn said, his eyes never leaving the vessel. "Let's make sure she doesn't lose her way." "Engineering to the bridge," B'ellana Torres, Voyager's Chief Engineer, said over the comm. "We're ready down here." Janeway was literally on the edge of her seat in anticipation. "Seven?" "I've established a link between our astronavigational database and long-range sensors," Seven said as she entered some commands in astrometrics. "I've fed the data through to the helm." She finished tapping the panel. "Whenever you're ready, Mr. Paris." "You heard her, Tom," Janeway said, fidgeting with excitement. "Set course for the wormhole, maximum..." she stopped short. "Velocity," she shrugged at Chakotay, who smirked at her. "I'm sure they'll come up with a name for it soon enough," he replied. "Course laid in," Tom Paris said at the helm. "Engaging the hyperdrive." With a single push of a button, the stars began to stretch and turn, and the Voyager crew found space suddenly replaced with a kind of milky-white pattern around them. Janeway stood up and approached the screen. She had been in Engineering when the Incaciad had brought them to the Imperial station, and hadn't witnessed hyperspace before. "It's beautiful," she said quietly, the tiniest hint of emotion in her voice. "Yes it is," Harry said. "It's the way home." Almost as suddenly the starlines returned, and the normal ebony of space spread out before them. "Are we there?" Janeway said, her voice still barely audible. "Yes, captain," Paris said. "And for the record we made it in 12 minutes, 41 seconds. Just mightbe a new Starfleet record." "Let's hope we have an opportunity to challenge that record," Janeway said. "Give our thanks to-" Captain Janeway never finished. Instead space twisted in on itself before her, and the ominous sight of three Borg Cubes filled the screen in front of her. "Oh my God," she whispered. "They found the wormhole." She watched the Cubes pass Voyager and fly towards their star destroyer escort. "What have we done?"
OK one more, but if you want additional chapters you need to buy the book: The Napuli System was, for the most part, a strategically useless area of space. Little mineral wealth, no known colonies or life, and a hundred light-years from a settled system, it was as important in the grand scheme as a blade of grass is to a wheat field. However, the fact that the first fleet engagement of the Borg War was taking place here showed that things can change in an instant. "All TIEs stand by," Thrawn ordered. "But do not launch unless I give the word." Despite the seriousness of the situation his voice was calm, but firm. He had learned a great deal about these Borg, but most of it was second-hand. Still, Thrawn had experience using little bits of information for his advantage. "Admiral," Captain Jarrol said anxiously, "We're receiving a communication. They-" "I know what they want," Thrawn interrupted, his eyes never leaving the three vessels. He was very quiet. "All turbolasers on the center cube," he finally said. "From all vessels." Jarrol hesitated for a moment, but only a moment. To him, it was insane to ignore two-thirds of the opposing forces when they could try to incapacitate all three, but he'd learned more than once to follow his commander's orders regardless. Immediately their weapons began tearing into the central cube. He kept his eyes on the sensors, watching the devastation. The first cube they had encountered had taken little time to destroy, and this one didn't look different, until. "Lieutenant," he said with obvious confusion, "is there a problem with the sensors?" "Negative, sir," the lieutenant reported from the crewpit. Jarrol turned away and stepped over. "Then why do the instruments insist our weapons are doing less damage?" he said with obvious irritation. "It's not the instruments," Thrawn said quietly, his eyes never leaving the tactical display. "It's them." "What do you mean?" Jarrol asked. "Sir," he quickly added. Thrawn looked back at the ship and then the display, and when he spoke, it was as if he were discussion the duty roster. "The Borg, captain, have adapted." "Re-route power to the shields," Janeway ordered. "Evasive maneuvers. Load all torpedo bays." "Captain," Tuvok said, a calm center on the storm of the bridge as always, "the Borg appear to be focusing solely on the Imperials." "Then give them something else to think about," she replied. "Torpedoes, full spread." One after the other the torpedoes exploded from the tubes and impacted on the Borg ship. When the series completed itself, the space glowed from the discharged plasma. But..."no effect," Tuvok said. "Bring us around," Janeway said, taking her seat. "Attack along the same vector as the Imperials; we might be able to punch through." "Captain," Chakotay said quickly, "Maybe we should leave this to the Imperials. They were more than a match last time." "The Borg hadn't adapted yet," Janeway countered. "This time they will, and the admiral will need every ship he can get." Chakotay opened his mouth, but Janeway cut him off before he could even start. "We brought them here. We are obligated to stop them. Tom, bring us around." The Intrepid-class starship weaved into the conflagration between the titans, phasers and torpedoes trying to breach Borg defenses. After a few minutes the combined efforts blew the cube to pieces. A few words of encouragement were said, then the group moved on to the next cube. "Torpedoes, full spread," Janeway ordered as the tiny Federation ship dodged the Borg's energy weapon and closed in. "There are only two torpedoes left," Tuvok informed her. "Do you wish me to fire them?" "Not yet," Janeway said. In the heat of the moment she'd forgotten how the previous battle had seriously reduced their limited supply. "Try to find an opening, then launch it down their throats." "Sir," Captain Jarrol said as Thrawn continued looking between the battle and the tactical display, "the Lucinda's shields are failing. The Borg have been-" "They're using a shield draining weapon," Thrawn finished. "Set the jammers to a randomized pattern." "Yes," Jarrol said as he passed on the order, but his confusion was obvious. "If the jamming is regular," Thrawn said, even though his attention was focused on the battle, "they might find a way to minimize it and use their transporters. We mustn't let that happen. Launch all TIEs." He tapped the console as he watched the reports coming in from the Lucinda. The Borg had ganged up on it in precisely the same manner as the star destroyers. Shields were failing. "I want TIEs to target all tractor beam emitters. The Borg can't be allowed to assimilate any part of the Lucinda; not one member of the crew, not so much as a wrench. Are my orders clear?" They were; Thrawn was not one to resort to hyperbole. "Captain!" Ens. Kim shouted with concern. "I'm reading hundreds of ships, too many to get a precise count." "More Borg?" Janeway asked, her heart in her throat. "No," Kim replied, more restrained, "they're from the Imperial ships. They appear to be large shuttles." "They're not evacuating, are they?" Janeway asked Chakotay in confusion. "I don't think so, Captain," Tom Paris said as he pointed to the display. They watched as the ships swarmed around Voyager and swooped in at the cubes, their weapons tiny pinpoints as they fired at the massive ships. "It looks like Thrawn had a little surprise planned," Chakotay remarked. "Hopefully this will turn the tide," Janeway remarked as they joined in the attack with the fighters. "I don't think so, Captain," Kim said, his disappointment transparent. "They've begun assimilating one of the star destroyers." The bridge was a buzz of controlled activity as the task of running a warship and coordinating a battle continued with the fine precision Thrawn demanded of his officers. The admiral himself was silently weighing the factors in his cold mind. The difference between Thrawn's thinking and a military computer's was that the computer was not aware of the moral consequences of its decisions. The difference between Thrawn and most officers was that he didn't allow that to influence his thinking. "Give me Captain Tamez," Thrawn said. Activity in the room quieted slightly; the admiral rarely spoke with the other vessels directly during combat. "Captain," Thrawn said as the hologram appeared on the bridge, "can you raise your shields?" "No sir," Tamez replied, doing his best not to display any emotion as the Borg tried to carve his ship apart around him. "Captain, I want you to ram the port cube." He spoke as if it were a minor course correction. "Say again?" Tamez replied. "The Borg are assimilating you," Thrawn said. "They want to take you and your crew and turn you into brainless slaves. If you don't destroy them, this will happen." "We have them outnumbered-" "You won't last that long," Thrawn said, "and we are short on time. You can die a slave or die fighting to save the Empire. I suggest you choose the latter." Tamez obviously didn't like either choice. "Admiral-" "Ramming speed," Thrawn said. "Those are your orders." Tamez took a deep breath through his nose. "Yes, admiral." He tried to put as much pride into the words as he could, and the hologram faded. The bridge remained quiet as Thrawn's order seemed to hang in the air. Thrawn stepped back to his position in front of the tactical display. He could explain to them that anything the Borg assimilated could be used to learn about the Empire and how to destroy it, and that even obliterating the vessels wouldn't keep that knowledge from being passed on to the collective. Of course, he was also the admiral, and he explained to no one but the Emperor. "Unless we wish to share their fate," he said evenly, "we must focus on the task at hand." The bridgecrew of Voyager watched in shock as the star destroyer and the cube collided in an explosion so energetic they were flashblinded. An energy wave struck and knocked them off balance. When Janeway managed to right herself she was able to make out the shattered remains of the cube; the star destroyer was vaporized. "Death before assimilation," Chakotay said grimly. "I'm sure a few Federation captains had similar thoughts." "Earth," Janeway said quietly. She looked at Chakotay, and noticed the odd way he looked at her. "Captain Riker was prepared to do the same thing to save Earth when the Borg first came." She shook her head. "We have more in common with these Imperials than physical appearance." She called out orders for battle to finish off the remains of the final cube, but part of her couldn't stop thinking about what had happened. Luke looked on with some concern as Leia held the lightsaber tightly in her hands. He could sense her fear, which was an important concern. His family didn't have a good history with the dark side. "Relax," he told her, "Don't try to force it. Just let it happen." He activated the remote, which began to move with a series of small, deliberate motions. Every few seconds a beam would lash out--not strong, just enough to sting. Leia swung the blade, but missed. This repeated until Luke could sense her frustration. "I know it seems hard, but that's just it. It only seems hard because you think it is. Stretch out with your feelings, and don't worry about whether you block or not. Just let your instincts guide you." "Easy to say," Leia said through gritted teeth, "hard to do." The blade was brought up, almost blocking the latest bolt. "Like all things, it takes practice and patience." Which was true, but there was no sense in going too hard on her on her first day. Luke stretched out with the Force and turned the remote to a lower setting. He felt a flash of anger. "I don't need you to go soft on me," Leia told him. "I just need to get the hang of things." Luke nodded with a small smile. "How did you know?" he asked. Leia opened her mouth to speak, and then closed it. "I don't know. I just... just knew." "Now you're starting to understand," he said with approval. "Trust your feelings, don't second guess them." Leia took a deep breath then held the lightsaber out in front of her, eyes fixed on the remote. It fired, slow at first, then faster. The green blade slipped through the air with a quiet hum as it snatched at each sliver of energy, bouncing it away harmlessly. Luke switched it off and clapped his hands a few times. "You've taken the first step," he said with approval. "But there's something you must always remember. Take these steps only along the proper path." He paused, realizing that it was only a week ago that he was the pupil. He wished Master Yoda was there to train her, to give the guidance that Leia needed to avoid the trap their father had stepped into and that he nearly succumbed to as well. That was Yoda's last warning to him, something that, even as he died, he wanted Luke to remember. He would face his father again; would he face the dark side again as well? And more importantly, could he find the strength to refuse it, or would he give in to temptation? "Are you all right?" Leia asked. Luke tried to put on a cheerful face. She was definitely growing in her powers. "I'll be fine," he assured her. "Let's continue with your exercises." "Are they gone?" the Emperor asked. "Yes, your highness," the hologram replied. Mara stopped her exercise, her instincts telling her that something important was going on. After a few seconds she recognized the hologram as Thrawn, one of the more gifted military commanders, but nevertheless an alien. However good they might be, never trust an alien, or so the Emperor had taught her; and he was right. Thrawn may command in his navy, but the Emperor did not for an instant allow that to cloud his judgment of the creature. "What do you know about this Federation?" the Emperor asked. "They are but one of thousands of minor powers located in their galaxy," Thrawn replied. "Many have little knowledge of the existence of most of the others. Communication on the galactic scale is virtually non-existent." "That can be used to our advantage," the Emperor replied. "What of the leader you spoke with?" Thrawn chuckled. "Janeway is extremely naïve. She seems to take everything at face value. After the Lucinda was destroyed she gave us all tactical information they had on the Borg, no matter how obscure. There is a multitude of details we can use to deduce information about tactical and strategic possibilities against a great deal of powers in their galaxy. And of course, the information on the Borg itself will be extremely useful." "Indeed," the Emperor said. "What is your assessment of these Borg?" "They are obviously a threat, you highness," Thrawn replied simply. "They no doubt want to assimilate us as well, and since it's impossible to negotiate with them, armed conflict is unavoidable." "Then you are recommending that we prepare for war," the Emperor replied. "Your Excellency, I suggest that we deter them from that course. A retaliatory strike into their territory as a direct response to their invasion would demonstrate that further conflicts with the Empire would not be in their best interests." Mara could sense the Emperor's mood sour. Was Thrawn attempting some duplicity? "I thought you said these Borg are unreasonable." "Your highness, the Borg cannot be reasoned with, but they are, in the end, beings of logic." The Emperor was silent for several minutes, but Thrawn said nothing, a wise choice as far as Mara was concerned. Her master was right, this alien couldn't be trusted. However, the Borg were definitely a threat if they could cause the destruction of a star destroyer. "I want you to take command of a task force of vessels from the nearest space station, and cross into this Milky Way galaxy." "Yes, your excellency," Thrawn replied. Mara could sense the Emperor's irritation. He had no doubt been expecting Thrawn to presume he would command the war effort, and thus humiliate him by denying it. "I want a station built on the other side of the wormhole to serve as a launch platform for our efforts and to maintain communication throughout the conflict. See that it is built quickly and protected from the Borg." Thrawn nodded and the hologram faded. The Emperor turned towards Mara, his gaze causing her to wither slightly. The more she grew in her power, the more she could sense how great the gap was between them. He noticed her reaction, as he noticed everything, and a smile drew to his lips at her fear. "Good," he said slowly. "Fear is the path to strength. Terror, hatred, passion, these are the things of power. Embrace them, my young apprentice." "Yes, my master," she replied with a slight bow. She hesitated, unsure if it was her place to speak with him of such things. "Master, do you really trust such an important matter in the hands of the Chiss?" The Emperor waved the remark away as he returned to his throne. "He is an able planner and a skilled tactician, but I would not be so foolish as to trust him with this campaign. Darth Vader's fleet has the most capable officers in the navy; they will deal with the Borg." "But what of the rebels," Mara replied. "If they attack while the fleet is gone-" "The rebels will not attack," the Emperor replied. "And if they were so foolish, the battlestation is shielded, and no army in existence can equal the one I have placed to guard the generator. No, my young pupil, the rebels are no threat." Mara nodded her agreement, but the Emperor could sense her thoughts. He chuckled. "Yes, you are correct child. One must never underestimate one's enemy, no matter how nearly vanquished they might be." It was a lesson her master had impressed on her from day one; a lesson one of her predecessors had learned from a lightsaber point. "The rebel support will wither once my battlestation is operational, lest they suffer the same fate as Alderaan. You need not always battle to win, young Mara, you can succeed merely by using your enemy's fears against them." "I still don't understand." The Emperor smiled, and Mara could sense he was thinking about the Federation and its neighbors. "You will child. You will."
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Captain Janeway tried not to fidget in front of the admirals, but it wasn't easy. With the celebrations of Voyager's return ending, the reality of all that had happened had sunk in. For five years she had no superior officers to deal with, no one to report to but her own conscience. Now that she was home, those five years were about to be placed under a microscope. "Captain, before we begin," said Admiral Parks, the senior officer present, "I want you to understand that this is not an official inquiry or a disciplinary investigation. We just want to clear up some of the events that took place during your absence." Janeway nodded. "I understand, admiral." She was glad none of them were telepaths and could tell what a lie that was. "Good," Parks turned to a white-haired man at the end of the row. "Adm. Jellico, I believe you had a topic of particular concern." Admiral Jellico nodded. "Captain Janeway. You ascribed your speedy return to a group called the," he turned to his notes, "the Galactic Empire?" "Yes," Janeway answered, "we worked out an exchange with a representative of the Empire wherein they were given transporter technology and we were given their propulsion device." Jellico consulted his notes again. "A device called a 'hyperdrive'." "Yes. They showed interest in our transporters, and we obviously needed their device a great deal." "Enough to violate the Prime Directive?" Jellico replied. The suddenness of the remark caught her off guard. "What do you mean, sir?" Janeway replied. "According to your report," Jellico said, "the Empire is not only on the other side of the universe, but is existing at a time far earlier than our own." "Yes," Janeway replied. "We discovered that the wormhole displaces in space as well as time, at the speed of subspace in fact." "Very convenient," Jellico said with disinterest, "but it doesn't explain why you deliberately gave technology to a society that existed, by your own admission, before our own." Janeway's voice dropped in pitch. "We didn't know about this at the time. It wasn't until the Borg showed up that we realized it. In either case, I stand by my actions." "Even though they violate Starfleet regulations?" Jellico asked pointedly. "Yes," Janeway remained stoic, "I do." Janeway expected the barrage to continue, but Jellico suddenly reversed thrusters, catching her off guard. "Would you not in fact say that your actions were necessary to ensure the safety of your crew?" "Yes," she replied, wondering if she'd just stepped into Jellico's trap. "Would you describe the Galactic Empire as being hostile?" Janeway was growing more suspicious, but she firmly believed that the truth justified her. "In every encounter I had with them, the Empire showed they were civilized and cooperative." Admiral Parks spoke up. "Would you be willing to testify to that before the Federation Council?" "Yes," she replied, but didn't understand. She said as much. "It's really quite simple, captain," Jellico said. "We want you to tell all of this to the Federation Council tomorrow." "To accomplish what?" "A lot has happened while you were gone, captain." Parks hesitated. "The Federation is in trouble. We've been having diplomatic negotiations with practically every two-bit planet in our part of space. We need support if we are to survive." She'd been gone too long, Janeway realized. She'd forgotten about how much of a hotbed the alpha quadrant can be. It fell into place in an instant. "Then what you want..." Jellico finished, "We think the Federation should form an alliance with the Empire." Seven of Nine waited outside the briefing room, hands clasped behind her back in what passed for a relaxed pose, moving only as much as was required to remain alert. It was for this reason she was aware of the small group of Starfleet personnel - cadets, she noted from their insignia - that had gathered to stare at her since she and Captain Janeway had arrived. Scoptophobia was an irrational fear, as was paranoia; human foibles that she as a Borg had grown far beyond. Their whisphered discussions about her were of no concern, no concern at all. "Do you require something?" she asked, causing the small crowd to jump at the suddenness of her remark. Despite herself she hadn't been able to keep the belligerence out of her voice. "Um," one of the female cadets said as her classmates distanced themselves from her slightly, "we were wondering if it was true... what they said, I mean. That you're a Borg." "I am an individual now," Seven replied. "But, you were a Borg," the cadet replied. "You used to be." Seven resisted the pointless desire to rub her hands together at the uncomfortable situation. "Yes," she finally replied. "Does it hurt when you're assimilated?" someone else asked. "I don't remember," Seven replied. "I thought Borg never forget anything," the first cadet replied. "We do not waste valuable resources on the pointless recollection of pain." "Did you ever help assimilate anyone?" Seven wrung her hands instinctively. "Yes," she replied quietly. "Did they show they were in pain? Did they want you to stop?" "I don't remember," she said sharply. "Mr. Hicks," a voice came from behind Seven, "are you in charge of this gathering?" All the cadets drew to attention. Seven glanced between them and a white-haired man that had just exited the briefing room. "No, sir," the female cadet replied. "You are now," he said. "Since your classmates have nothing better to do than gawk in a hallway, I think you can find the time to inventory the cargo containers at Docking Platform #2. I'll inform the quartermaster that you will personally have it on her desk by 2100 hours." "Yes sir," she replied, and with a nod from the officer they rushed off. As they left the man joined with a small group of others who had just left the briefing room. Seven noted the smile on Captain Janeway's face, a complete reversal of her previously somber attitude. "Your debriefing went well?" Seven asked. "Better than well," Janeway replied as the two started walking through the corridors of Starfleet Command. "It seems our little detour through the wormhole may have a much larger consequence than we'd thought." "The hyperdrive will bring substantial changes," Seven remarked. "Further tradings for Imperial technology would be wise." "Off the record," Janeway remarked, a phrase that Seven still failed to understand, "it's going to be a lot bigger than that." They drew to a halt as the cadet returned. "Can we help you?" Janeway asked politely. "I'm sorry, sir," she replied nervously, then turned to Seven. "I just wanted to apologize on behalf of myself and everyone else. We didn't mean to offend you." "I do not take offense," Seven replied. "Well, what we did was rude, and as future Starfleet officers we should've known better." Seven looked at Captain Janeway nervously, then back. "You should be completing the admiral's orders. It would be a mistake to neglect your duty by talking to me." She continued walking, the girl looking oddly between her and Janeway before the captain rushed to catch up. "Was there a problem?" Janeway asked with concern. "No," Seven said curtly. Captain Janeway nodded, clearly not believing it but knowing better than to bring it up now. "Let's get back to the ship. I think we've spent enough time on Earth for right now." Seven took a deep breath. "Agreed," she replied with a hint of exhaustion. Lt. Delric Taar tapped his datapad absentmindedly on the table in front of him as he waited for the fleet-wide briefing to begin. Whatever was going on made him edgy; the zero hour for the rebel attack had come and gone, and command refused to breathe a word to the lower decks of what was going on, even though it was obvious something was up. The fleet had left the incomplete Death Star undefended days ago, a dangerous move in his opinion. Of course, there was no love lost between himself and the Death Star. More than one of his friends had left the service over Alderaan, their hatred overwhelming their loyalty for order and peace. Now he'd been forced to blow his former wingmates away, and all because of a superweapon that was, by its very nature, a tactically useless tool. According to the rebellion, Alderaan had been destroyed by Grand Moff Tarkin just to spite a rebel spy. Of course, it was probably just propaganda, but down deep Taar had to wonder whether or not anyone could command such power and be able to show restraint. He wasn't optimistic, especially with Moff Jerjerrod in command. He'd seen the moff's reaction to Lord Vader, and putting ultimate power in the hands of a whiny sycophant was like giving an infant a thermal detonator to play with. Before he could continue the thought the holograms of other squadron leaders appeared throughout the room, the fleet flight coordinator appearing in the center. Taar got his datapad ready as the briefing began. "Squadron leaders," the major began, "meet your new enemy." The rotating image of a cube-shaped object appeared on each table, a smaller one of a star destroyer alongside it for scale. "They're called the Borg, and it is our responsibility to ensure that they pose no threat to the Empire." Taar took notes as the previous battles involving the Borg were given, the known points of their defenses, and the reason for the upcoming mission. "We are going to cross through the wormhole and into Borg space," the major continued. "Since they have no concept of diplomacy we plan to annihilate enough ships and planets to show them that further attacks on the Empire would be a devastating mistake. Any questions?" Taar spoke up. "Sir, Interceptors, as the very name implies, are meant to deal with fighter craft. They cause minimal damage to corvettes. What possible use do they have against a ship this size?" The major exhaled in annoyance. "We've determined that swarming the cubes with fighters will provide a distraction that will allow our star destroyers to do their work." Don't say it, Delric. Don't say it, Delric. "So we're flying targets. Sir." You shouldn't have said it. The major's look of scorn agreed with that sentiment. "I think the major was impressed with your tactical assessments," Lt. Starrunner, squadron leader for Grey Squadron, remarked after the briefing was over. "Kriff him," Taar said with disgust. "These guys get taken out of the pilot seat and suddenly they forget what it's like to have inches of plexisteel between you and death." "This is messed up," Starrunner agreed. "You heard how accurate those Borg can get. They're asking us to basically die when we can't fight back. And do you think my bombers have a chance of staying ahead and outmaneuvering these Borg?" "Not without cover," Taar said. He sighed, then rapped his datapad on the hull a couple of times. "Lohl," he said finally, "let's get our squadrons together for some simulations. Maybe there's a way we can fight back against the Borg after all." Jean-luc Picard, captain of the Federation flagship, Enterprise, sighed with impatience as he waited outside the office of Adm. Parks. After six weeks of separation from my ship you would think I'd be used to it, he thought gloomily. He wasn't accustomed to being out of the loop, at least not when it came to the Enterprise. That Data, Geordi, and his engineering staff were allowed on board was all the more infuriating, but at least now he could speak to someone who could give him information, maybe even access to his ship again. He got to his feet as that someone arrived. "Apologies for the delay, Jean-luc," Adm. Parks said, shaking his hand. "Not at all," Picard lied. "It seems these days time is something I have plenty of." Parks laughed as he led Picard into his office. "Yes, there's a fine line between R&R and boredom, isn't there." "Exactly," Picard said, hoping this meant the admiral was going to let him in on what was happening. Parks took his seat, offering Picard a chair as he did. "Jean-luc, I know it's not easy being kept in the dark on what goes on on your own vessel, but believe me, it's in the name of Federation security." "Indeed," Picard said neutrally. It seemed to him that a lot was being done in the name of Federation security lately, and he wasn't all that pleased with where that was leading. The declaration of martial law remained a particular sore spot with him, and a reminder that their society was not as rock-solid as he'd like to think. "We have an opportunity to forever change the balance of power in this quadrant," Parks continued. "A chance to ensure that the Romulans, the Cardassians, not even the Dominion will be able to threaten the Federation again." "A new weapon?" "An ally," Parks answered. "Someone with resources and technology that, along with our own strength, will deter practically any power that might try to wage war on us." "And you're afraid someone might form a treaty with these people first," Picard said. "Not exactly. No one can reach them in any reasonable amount of time; they exist on the other side of a wormhole that's over halfway across the galaxy." Picard was a bit baffled. "I'm not sure I understand. How helpful can this power be if it would take decades just to reach them?" Parks smiled. "Because right now we're the only ones who can reach them without taking decades." He explained to Picard about Voyager's encounter with the Borg, the Empire, and the new hyperdrive. "And this is what you've been doing with the Enterprise all this time," Picard concluded at the end. "Installing this hyperdrive." "Yes," Parks confirmed. "You can see the need for security. Even without the possibility of an alliance, the ability to deploy our forces at hundreds of times the speed of our enemies gives us an incredible advantage. If that technology were stolen, it could be damning." "I understand," Picard added. "But there's something I'm not clear on. If this treaty with the Empire is so important, why did we not send Voyager? They have a functioning hyperdrive." "Yes, but that's about all that's functioning. Voyager's been flying through Borg space for some time; she wasn't in the best shape when she returned. And besides that, a mission of this importance requires a captain with a skill for diplomacy, and I think there's no one better qualified." With each passing second the frustrations of the previous weeks was replaced with anticipation as Picard thought of the magnitude of this mission. A mission of diplomacy to a civilization that spanned an entire galaxy was beyond the expectations of even the most fanciful cadets. "When do we leave?" he asked, now all the more impatient to get back to his ship and begin this historic trip. "Three days," Parks replied. "The hyperdrive should be finished tomorrow, which should give your people enough time to familiarize themselves with the new equipment and prep for the mission." "Will Captain Janeway be giving us a briefing?" "Better. She's re-assigning a member of her crew to act as your advisor on both the delta quadrant and the Galactic Empire." "Who?" "She hasn't decided yet," Parks answered. "She needs someone who's not only familiar with their technology, but has expertise in delta quadrant astrometrics and dealings with the Imperials. Finding someone who fits that bill won't be easy, and giving them up will probably be even harder." "Well," Picard said as he rose to his feet, "I'll certainly look forward to meeting whoever is up to that challenge." Seven of Nine walked through the door to the captain's ready room. As always, Capt. Janeway was seated behind her desk, a PADD in one hand, a mug of coffee in the other. She was nothing if not predictable. "You wished to see me, captain," Seven stated. Janeway continued to look at the PADD. "Yes, Seven, please sit down." "Unnecessary, I'm comfortable standing." Janeway put down the PADD. "Yes, of course you are. I forgot, the Borg even sleep standing." "Inaccurate. The Borg regenerate, they do not sleep." Janeway came around and sat on the edge of her desk. "Yes...." Janeway continued after a brief pause. "Everything is in order, all damage to the ship has been repaired, and I've finally got my private dining room back," she added with a slight smile. "Some of the Maquis officers have asked to transfer to Starfleet, and permission has been granted for them to remain at their current posts. I've even persuaded them to keep the Doctor on line as our chief medical officer, although that took a little convincing." "I assume you're not updating the ship's status with the entire crew in this manner." "No." Janeway had a look of disappointment. "That leaves us with our two resident civilians. Mr. Neelix has already departed. That leaves us with you." Seven breathed a little heavily, then began to speak. "If you do not wish me to remain on board I will leave. I understand that circumstances have changed." Janeway stepped forward and grabbed Seven's hand. "That's not what I'm saying. You've been an asset to this ship. There's a chance that we wouldn't be here if it weren't for you. We don't want you to leave. But it would be selfish of us to force you to remain on board. We'd be denying you new experiences, a chance to explore your humanity." Seven was uncharacteristically silent. "Going from life on Voyager to life on Earth isn't going to be an easy transition," Janeway continued. "I think that's obvious to the both of us." Seven nodded slowly, not looking at her captain. "Adapting would be... difficult." "Perhaps it's time for a small step in the right direction." Janeway turned and picked up the PADD off her desk. "And I think we have the perfect opportunity for you to take that step. Tell me, are you familiar at all with the Enterprise?"
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Early on there is a place where you refer to a "sense of casualness." That sounds very awkward and I would suggest you say instead "a sense of ease."
Orwell started off Burmese Days with "The heat rolled off the earth like the breath of a hot oven." I thought that was a nice way to start a book and Jack Keroac liked it so much he copied it. Maybe you could slip it in somewhere?