Dawn of Forever, Part II

Ben Skywalker deactivated his cloak and brought the ship into the docking bay, glad the work with Deln Ibar was behind him. Ben was a Sith Lord, and running errands like that was beneath him, but he had to answer to the Oracle, his master. All Sith chaffed when subordinate; the apprentices sought to replace Molly O'Brien, she sought to usurp Ben, Ben wanted to topple his master, and she sought to overthrow the Empire itself. The term for a Sith that wasn't striving for power and advancement was "corpse."

Not so long ago Ben would have had lackeys to carry out this busy work. In his own universe he was poised for total conquest of the galaxy, and it was only by the intervention of the Oracle, his Sith Master, that he'd been brought here instead, duped into believing that it was a fluke and that she was a humble servant. The truth, that he was chosen because she felt he'd be easily manipulated, had come as a rather nasty and shameful shock.

Still, despite his failing to spot the ruse and seize control, he'd performed masterfully, even if he did say so himself. He'd killed this universe's Luke Skywalker, Jacen Solo, dozens of Jedi potentials and one of the students. He'd even killed the Emperor himself in front of the entire Empire... although he didn't like to think that it was only because the Emperor allowed it to happen. But that didn't change the fact that he'd done it, and how many had the Oracle killed? Leia Organa Solo, and that was after Ben had already removed one of her hands; hardly impressive. A Sith Master had to be prepared to get his hands dirty, and so far it seemed the only way that might happen with the Oracle is if she knocked over one of her beakers. But patience was part of being a Sith, as paradoxical as that may seem. Passion, anger, these were part of what gave a Sith strength, and a willingness to commit any sin to achieve a given end. But if you weren't patient, if you weren't calculating, if you didn't look at when you were strong and when you were wanting, then you were just a very fashionable thug. So Ben watched for his opportunity with due caution. A mid-ranking Sith Lord was one of the most dangerous adversaries. They had the apprentices clambering for a shot at the big time, masters trying to stop their ascent, and Jedi adversaries all around trying to lay them out. They were survivors through and through. They made cockroaches look like a sickly goldfish.

Ben crossed through the complex without a word to the others, intent to give his report and get on with things. Some time in the holodeck would be most useful, he thought. Killing a few dozen Jedi would help him relax after the boredom of his latest -his stomach turned on the word- assignment.

The Oracle was in her laboratory, pouring over an alchemical elixir with rapt attention. It was at moments like this when she seemed to be at her most insane, mumbling to herself as she worked. It could be understandable if she were using it as some kind of memory aid; three parts green stuff to two parts bubbling blue whatever-it-was. Instead her little mutterings seemed to be completed unrelated to her work. "Displacement... displacement is natural, a consequence of the uncertainty principle. Have to be scientific about it, logical, even when it seems to break every known law. Just have to remember to be rational... have to think... have to remember... I can do it right this time. I have the knowledge, and with that they can't hope to fool me. This time I'll have the edge. Just have to be careful. Have to remember. Can't have a temporal paradox. Paradoxes are dangerous things. Paradoxes will swallow you up. Nature abhors a vacuum, and a vacuum in time even more so. There's so much to remember... so much that has happened... or has it already happened... can't think with the displacement... I'll need this. This can be reversed; the Sith have the power to do anything. Just have to remember it all... I can do it this time..." She took the chemical, apparently decided it was done and poured it into a hypospray. Hands fumbling, she placed it to her neck and it discharged; she dropped it to the floor in a massive coughing fit, doubled over from the force of it.

Ben saw his chance, and when it came to Sith assassinations, chances didn't crop up very often. He moved with speed beyond anything human, closing the distance and pulling his lightsaber, igniting it on the downswing to provide the traditional cure for dandruff - removing the head from the shoulders.

Time stopped. When dealing with matters that involve the Oracle and her perverse union of Dark side power with chemical and technological obscenities, it's important to keep in mind that a phrase like that needs to be taken literally. Time stopped. Awareness continued. Ben could see his lightsaber frozen just at the cutting point, its glow subdued in the non-time, silent. In fact, there was no sound at all, not the beeps and chirps of the Oracle's instruments, not the hiss from her chemicals, nothing.

The Oracle bent down below the motionless lightsaber and backed out of its swing. She straightened up and looked into his eyes, and it chilled him to the core. She had no eyes; where they should be was an empty, yawning abyss. Ben could feel it drowning him, like a fallen tear dropped into an ocean without notice or consequence. Many a stare said that you were beneath notice, but this one actually held up a mirror and showed you that you truly were insignificant in every possible way, that your existence had no consequence whatsoever to anything. Inside his mind, Ben screamed in terror and angst, and was appalled that he was helpless to turn away from her, which was the only thing he wanted at that moment. Some talked about a look that could kill, but this one could reach in and destroy the spirit itself.

Time continued, and the swing finished, causing Ben to stumble off balance. He righted himself and backed away from the Oracle, whose face seemed to have returned to normal for the moment, although it still wasn't a very pretty sight. She waved her hand and Ben found his cybernetic hand was holding the lightsaber near his own throat. He grabbed the wrist with his other and tried to push it away, but it was hopeless. His eyes flicked between the blade and the Oracle, fear saturating his body. She could kill him, but there was no way to tell whether or not she would. When rationality is gone, you become capable of anything. In an odd way, madness was the ultimate freedom.

The lightsaber switched off, much to Ben's relief. Then it exploded. He dropped down as he grabbed his wrist, the hand holding the lightsaber blown to pieces. It wasn't real, but it was attached to his nervous system, and hurt like hell. The Oracle walked slowly across the room to him, then just as slowly gestured upward. Ben felt something lift him up by the throat until he was standing on his toes, gasping for air. Finally she spoke, her words edged with ice and malice. "Don't ever do that again." Then she gestured and Ben was thrown out of the room through the door, landing on the floor beyond and rolling to a painful halt. He groaned where he lay, too weak at the moment to haul himself to his feet. He glanced up and saw the Oracle watching him from the doorway. He stayed where he was, working to gather enough strength to get to the infirmary. After a while she turned and returned to her work in the lab. The door didn't close, because there wasn't one. Another phrase to take literally when it comes to the Oracle is "through the door."

The thousands of minor powers throughout the Milky Way had been united in conquest by the Empire. Now, thanks to the disintegration of the central government, it was back to the old days for most, which mainly included fighting amongst themselves for resources and power. The problem was that some of it was still the Empire, and they took a dim view of aggressors, or at least, those aggressive in their direction.

Pax Eclipsa, General Taar had named the plan for Milky Way affairs. It was a rather humorous name, if the general could have been considered to have much of a sense of humor, and if the thought of enforcing international policy with a planet-killing weapon could be anything more than black comedy. Such a term had always been used to reflect a period of international stability because of the strength of a nation or several nations. Instead it was a period of international turmoil where the Empire waved a bat full of nails at people and threatened to use it if they didn't back off. Leave us alone, because we have the big stick, and we know where you live. A diplomat could call this situation "peace" in much the same way a doctor could call death "stable."

The Malon had been the first that were both ambitious and foolish enough to test the Empire's resolve. It had been a smallish raid of an Imperial planet. The Empire had responded by only blowing up a small Malon planet. The Malon had shown public outrage at the brutality of the response, but the ambassadors were powerless to do anything. The military was handling the Eclipses now, and they'd made their decision. Without the resources to respond with comparable firepower to every attack, the Empire would continue to respond to threats to its territory with the ultimate weapon. The Malon asked if that was their final word on the subject; General Taar advised them to look up "ultimate" in the dictionary.

What few people didn't know was that the Malon hadn't been alone in the plan. This was vital, because Garak knew that if his connection were discovered, the Cardassians would be in far worse shape than the Malon. But you didn't fight the kind of war he'd fought for a quarter century without knowing how to be careful, or without forging contacts across the galaxy. Janeway knew this, and gave him orders to make use of them. For some reason, Garak had found he'd become far more worried about her wrath than the Empire's. The worst the Empire would do would be to wipe them out, but with her technology, Janeway may have the means to erase them from existence.

Garak needed to provoke the Empire; she'd insisted upon that. The Malon, however, weren't listening any more after what had happened. They were ambitious, but they also knew when they'd already lost. The Kazon though... they were ambitious and stupid. Even after the annihilation of the Malon world, they were still itching for the chance to take a bite out of some forbidden fruit. It was almost depressingly easy to provoke them.

Garak watched the live feed from one of the Kazon worlds as the Eclipse emerged out of hyperspace. The Empire, in fact, was broadcasting the image throughout the holonet. After all, what was the point of resorting to a policy of total annihilation in response to attacks if you didn't show the galaxy you meant every word? There was a flurry of ships breaking orbit around the world; mere dots at this distance. Seconds after arrival, the front of the ship flared and a green energy beam rushed out and struck the planet, causing it to rupture and explode.

The galaxy watched, and they got the message. But the other message, the one the Oracle had wanted them to receive, also was sent. This is what you get when you strip the Empire of the gentility. This is what it really was. It was a planet killer, a monster, which killed indiscriminately as its foreign policy. None of you will ever truly be safe while it still exists.

Garak turned the image off and leaned back in his chair. He didn't like the sight of the superlaser. It brought up bad memories.

Annika Hansen Skywalker, also known as Seven of Nine in the distant country of her past, laid on her bunk in the holding cell. It was a good day; she hadn't been tortured for eleven days now, and that was a streak worth celebrating, if she'd had the means. Janeway had become obsessed as usual, and there's few things worse than being tortured by an obsessive-complusive. For one thing, they tend to make it part of their routine.

It had started simply enough. Janeway -The Oracle, Annika corrected- wanted to find out how Annika contacted the Borg so she could set up a counter-measure to stop it. Eventually, Annika gave in. The next day, the ordeal was repeated, to find out if there were some other way to get a signal out. Sadly there was, and even worse, Annika spilled it, eliminating another option. What was even worse was the third time, because there were no options left for Annika to give up. It makes for a very long day, especially when the Oracle was involved. She had ways of keeping her victims conscious even after the body would normally shut down. The times after that, well, Annika was suspecting her old captain was just trying to break up the monotony; her own, of course, not Annika's.

Annika folded her hands behind her head and looked at the ceiling in the off chance it did something interesting. So... the Oracle was still keeping her alive. That meant she saw some use in doing so. It wasn't for old time's sake, that much was certain, so it had to be because it furthered her goal. During her frequent interrogations Annika had been asked about ways to destroy or hamper the Borg Collective, but Annika had never provided any. She was smart too and never allowed herself to think about the topic so that when the pain became too much she would be unable to give in. Still, if she had a credit for every time she'd decided to solve the problem to ensure the torture never happened again, she could afford an army to break her out. Since the sessions had gone on some kind of hiatus, though, it seemed that this line of inquiry was over.

Annika reviewed her list of the Oracle's potential motivations, short though it was. The first had been as a weapon to use against Sebastian, but that seemed to be diminishing. Sebastian was Borg now, and he would feel no emotional attachment towards her. The Oracle had to know that. Besides, letting Annika contact the Borg would encourage them to step into any kind of trap the captain could come up with, and she'd effectively cut off every emergency channel and frequency Annika had. That seemed the least likely option at this point.

The second possibility was to convince Annika to join with her. It might seem a bit of an odd technique to recruit someone, but by constantly pushing Annika beyond her pain thresholds it would allow the Oracle to start to brainwash her. That had seemed the most likely for a time, but with the lapse in her torture regiment, it seemed this wasn't right either, or the Oracle was too busy with other work to maintain an interest.

The third and most worrying possibility was simple sadism. If Annika's cynicism was right, the Oracle kept her alive purely to torment her for some kind of amusement. The recent break was because she had other things to occupy her mind, but if she was bored Annika could look forward to more of her former captain's ministrations. That it fit all the facts only made Annika more gloomy.

The only remaining possibility for Annika was that the Oracle had seen a future where her captive could be of some use to her. Despite the failure of the Vong trap the Oracle had instigated, the woman clearly had developed some means of seeing into the future and planning accordingly. Annika could be the key to whatever scheme she was putting together. If that were the case -or the previous one, Annika mused- then the only way Annika could foil the Oracle's plans would be to kill herself. She could do it too; even if her nanoprobes didn't work, she could still snap her own neck. But she also knew this was one of the classic blunders. The most famous was never to get involved in a land war with Klingons, but only slightly less well know was this: never second guess your actions when dealing with events known to occur in the future. Nine times out of ten, a person who did that caused the very event they were trying to prevent. It was called the Pogo Paradox, in fact, because Starfleet liked to name every damn thing. No, Annika planned for eventualities, but she never did anything that couldn't be easily reversed unless she had to, and self-resurrection wasn't a skill she'd mastered.

Annika squirmed a little on the cot to try and get more comfortable, then started to sing quietly to pass the time. The future would show up when it was ready, and Annika was even more patient than a Sith.

Go To Part III
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