Dawn of Forever, Part XXI

Lando was in his "office," if you wanted to elevate the converted storage room to such a grand term, when word came to him. He grunted, put away the datapad, and proceeded towards the docking bay. Having Garak on the station was bad enough, but leaving him unescorted was a recipe for who knows what.

"Well well well," Lando said as the Cardassian descended from the shuttle. "I can't tell you how glad I am to have you back on board our little battlestation."

Garak didn't even bothering pausing. "You can dispense with your usual pleasantries, Calrissian," he said as he proceeded towards the exit, Lando at his side. "I'm here to put you back on schedule."

"My men are working as fast as they can," Lando said wearily. Hands on partners were always a major pain in the exhaust port.

Garak flashed Lando that smile of his. "Perhaps I can find new ways to motivate them."

"The Death Star will be completed on schedule," Lando said, not cowed for a minute.

"I don't share your optimistic appraisal of the situation."

"Look, you're asking the impossible," Lando said. "This stuff has been neglected for decades, and in case you haven't noticed, it's a big damn station. You don't give us time, Garak, the only thing this battlestation's going to blow up is itself."

"Yes, they do tend to do that," Garak said dismissively. "The problem, Lando, is that the Oracle wants this station up and running on schedule."

"Oh, so the old Sith witch is calling the shots now," Lando said. "And here I thought this was your toy."

"The Oracle has offered me a splendid opportunity," Garak said. "I'm choosing to heed her advice in this case, but it requires this station to actually be working."

"What's she planning?"

"That's none of your concern," Garak said.

Lando grabbed Garak and pulled him to a halt. "I'm building this damn thing for you," he rumbled. "I think that makes it my concern."

Garak gave him a condescending grin. "I don't discuss day to day operations with the help."

"Then you better start shopping around for a new contractor," Lando said, "because I'm not going to help you if you keep me in the dark."

"You know, it's funny how a person with a complete lack of social skills like the Oracle is so effective at persuasion," Garak said finally. "She doesn't threaten you exactly... there's just something about her that says that saying yes would be much less painful than saying no."

"You think you can intimidate me by using her?" Lando scoffed.

"Have you any idea how rarely she leaves that little cave of hers?" Garak asked. "Can you imagine how irritated she would be if she had to come all the way back out here to remind you why you were doing this?"

"Let her come," Lando said defiantly.

Garak shot him another grin, then reached into his cloak and pulled out a hand-held holoprojector. He thumbed it on; a small recording of the Oracle appeared. "Are you sure that's what you want me to do, Calrissian?" she asked. "I hate to be interrupted."

"Cute," Lando said.

"Cute?" the recording replied.

"It responds to-"

"-to whatever you say to generate an appropriate response," the recording finished. "No, Calrissian. I am watching you, right now. You didn't think I'd let you get your hands on a Death Star and just leave you be, did you? No, I know everything... like the override you put into the firing mechanism, so you can disable the superlaser if your conscience started bothering you." Lando wore his poker face, but inside his stomach compressed to the size of a walnut. "You cannot hope to conspire against me, Calrissian, so you would be best served if you simply did the job given you, counted your money, and went on your way. Interfering in my plans is pointless; it doesn't stop me, it just annoys me. So, you will remove the override and stop trying to sabotage this battlestation. For each day the problem goes uncorrected, my Sith students will hunt down and murder ten of your company's employees. I'm sorry I can't threaten anyone else, but since all you love is money I see nothing else you could possibly value. Fix the problem, and don't oppose me further. Oh, and don't forget about our deadline... what it is for is not your concern, just complete your work on time." The hologram winked out.

"You never quite get used to that," Garak commented. Lando couldn't think of anything to say. Yes, he'd put the override in. It seemed like the only way he could help prevent this thing from causing another horrible catastrophe. "Well, Calrissian."

Lando swallowed; he had no choice but to give in. Even refusal would only mean a delay; they'd find someone else to do the work, and it seemed the Oracle truly was watching out for sabotage. Damn me, he thought, I'm going to have to do it. I'm going to have to resurrect this monster and unleash it on the galaxy. "We shall double our efforts," Lando croaked.

Kalib cracked his knuckles; the echoes off the walls of his ship mixed creating a sound he found altogether pleasing. But it was just a moment's distraction; decisions still had to be made.

Over the millennia, Kalib had stowed away enough things around the galaxy to easily pick himself back up after any disaster, and in centuries to come, he'd look back at losing his ship and years of Vong imprisonment as a small footnote of little consequence, much the same way one might remember the annoyance of stepping in a puddle and soaking one foot. It was annoying, but not something to dwell on for the long term.

But now wasn't the long term, it was the short term, and Kalib was still angry. Carbon-freezing had been a wholly unpleasant experience, and even the venting with Solo and the Vorta girl hadn't satiated his appetite for payback. On the other hand, he needed to start acting his age and stop running around and hitting people with things... unless it was a direct response to an insult, of course. He had a reputation to think about.

So, with his ship in place and everything running smoothly, Kalib did what he was best at, and information trickled in. And now, now he had a big piece of the puzzle, something that could help somebody fight the Vong, which pleased him immensely. But who? He didn't have any connections to the Empire these days and wasn't too keen about making new ones under the circumstances. There was always Solo, but, he wasn't really sure where the human stood these days anyway. Yeah, he opposed the Vong, but he'd been getting moody near the end of their partnership. Luke Skywalker would have been a good choice, but apparently he hadn't lived long enough to return that favor he owed to Kalib.

Kalib sighed. Looked like there was only one choice, really. He opened up his communication signal and, cursing himself for doing this, tried raising the Borg.

The docking procedures at Corellia were practically draconian in the wake of the riots, but the Millennium Falcon soon settled onto a platform. Her captain exited the ramp looking annoyed because, as far as Kilana was concerned, he was capable of only expressing joy, anger, or annoyance. She had to rush to keep up with him as he walked out of the facility straight to the rental shop to pick up a swoop. "What about me?" Kilana asked.

"You crashed the last swoop I gave you," Han reminded her.

"People were shooting at me!" Kilana protested.

"They were shooting at me too, and I was fine. You ride with me." Kilana grumbled but took the seat behind Han. They lifted off and raced through the city until finally they reached the Reshad home. It wasn't the most luxurious, but it was clear that credits had grown in the Reshad's hands over the years. Anakin and Laudica had been waiting out front, and Han switched from annoyance to the more expected emotion as he hopped off the swoop and embraced them both.

"I wasn't sure you were going to make it," Anakin said.

"Are you kidding?" Han said. "Vong? Pshaw! Garak? Yawn! Corellian import regulations, okay, that scared me a little." He held them both again. "I just wish your mom was here to see this," Han said. "She'd be so thrilled for you," he said to Anakin. "And so proud to have you in the family," he said to Laudica.

"I'll try to live up to its reputation," Laudica said. Laudica went inside to introduce her soon to be father-in-law to the rest of the clan; Kilana stayed to park the swoop.

"Anakin," she asked before he could follow inside. "I am happy for you, but why now?"

"Why not now?" he asked.

"Well, there's a war going on. I thought you two were going to wait."

"There will always be some reason not to do it," Anakin said. "I could put this off forever, but why?"

"So many people have died," Kilana pointed out. "Aren't you afraid of what could happen?"

Anakin nodded. "Which is why we're doing this now. If it happens, it happens, but that means we should cherish the time we have all the more instead of waiting for something that may never come."

"But it sounds..." Kilana couldn't find the right word. "Risky," she settled for.

"That's why it's called 'love,' Kilana," Anakin said.

Ben Skywalker opened his shirt and stared in the mirror. He was looking at a man who once commanded whole fleets, who razed worlds, whose name struck fear into the hearts of those across the galaxy who stood against him. Now he was looking at a man who had been broken, whose greatest accomplishments would always lie behind him.

Dead man walking...

There was no sign of it on his chest. The Oracle had reversed time, undone the blow so that the sword had never pierced his heart. At least, had undone the damage to the body. But Ben Skywalker had died... and he hadn't liked the experience.

Still, perhaps it would have been better to stay dead and be spared further humiliation. But now he was alive, and the body wanted to keep it that way. Life was all it had, and animal instincts told the brain that death was something to fear. And Ben could not resist them, because he was a Sith, and fear was a source of his strength. Except now his fear was in disappointing his master.

The hold she had on him now was nothing mystical; she did not supplant his mind or soul during his death and return to life. She held him because he knew, he laughed humorlessly at the words, through and through, that she was his better, that she was his master. Even if he opposed her, it would only be to invite further punishment on him.

But pain and fear fueled hate, and since directing it at his master would avail him nothing, he directed it against her enemies instead. If he suffered, others would suffer as well. It was all he had, so he would indulge in it... and perhaps in time he would find power-

No! He terminated that line of thought as quickly as it started. The Oracle knew of his duplicity with the Borg woman despite not even being in the same galaxy; plotting against her was useless. As much as it chafed, there was nothing he could do, or even dream of doing, to change the fact that she was the master and he a mere servant.

Ben closed his shirt and put on his cloak, then took up the mask of Revan. He'd made it as a symbol of pride; he was going to shake the galaxy in just the same way as it had been millennia ago. Despite the change in himself, he brought it with him now. It still had the power to fill his enemies with fear.

As always, the Oracle was in her laboratory. Ben walked in and stood in silence. "Well done," she said, no doubt referring to his submission before her. "You are learning quickly, my former apprentice." Ben nodded in respect. "My task for you, Skywalker, will be the penultimate step in toppling the Empire, so you must not fail me again."

"I won't, my master," he replied.

"Good. Your enemies are well beneath you, but they will be numerous. It will be a true challenge for a Sith of even your abilities."

"They will be destroyed, my master," Ben assured her. "Is it the Jedi?"

"No. They will be dealt with in time, but for now they still have the resources of the Empire to support them. We will tear down that corruption first, then we will dispose of them at our leisure."

"As you command, my master."

Sebastian cried out and opened his eyes. Sleep gave way to reality quickly for him as he assessed the situation. He saw he was holding his lightsaber... and it was on... and sticking through the Borg Queen's chest.

"Hello, Sebastian," she said.

Sebastian looked between her, then the hand holding the blade, then her again. Then he switched the blade off. "Sorry," he said.

"I am only present as a hologram," the Queen said. "You did no harm."

Sebastian put the lightsaber away for the moment. "Why are you speaking to me like this instead of through the Collective? I thought this kind of thing was distracting."

"'Distracting' is inaccurate, but it does limit efficiency. Nevertheless, direct interaction seemed necessary in this case."

"I'm fine," Sebastian said sternly.

"Your behavior just now was irrational, abnormal, and potentially dangerous," the Queen observed.

"I had a bad dream."

"Your neurological activity has been unusual ever since your brush with the Vong bioship," the Queen pointed out. "It's possible they damaged you."

"No," Sebastian said.

"Your behavior would seem to indicate otherwise."

"Look, here's what happened," Sebastian said. "Whatever Vong... thing was there, plowed through my brain, okay? Like throwing a stick of dynamite into a swamp, all kinds of stuff is coming to the surface. Just give me some time."

"We are at war, Sebastian. Time is a luxury."

"You are not plugging me back into the Collective," Sebastian said. "That's it."

"Your mind is damaged-"

"I SAID NO!" Sebastian turned away, ashamed of the outburst. "Don't tempt me," he said quietly. "Don't tempt me with an easy answer. I can't do it, you understand? I can't let myself go back to that, or I'll never be able to leave again."

"I cannot understand your thinking." Sebastian's hands were shaking. He closed his eyes tight and gritted his teeth. The chair nearby rose up off the floor as he held out his hand. He closed his palm, and it slowly began to crush in mid-air. He tightened the fist until his knuckles were white, then the mass of twisted metal dropped to the floor. "Or your action," the Queen added.

"I'm fine now," Sebastian said, getting up. "Just needed to get that out of my system."

The Queen looked him over, but it was just for Sebastian's benefit; she had all the sensors of the ship to examine him from head to toe. "The mercenary, Kalib, has made contact. He has information to trade regarding the Vong bioships. Because of the history between his people and ours, he has requested to speak only with you."

Sebastian nodded. Work, that was exactly what he needed right now. "Where is he?"

"He has sent us coordinates for a rendezvous," the Queen said. "An uninhabited world in the Delta Quadrant. Your ship has already changed course."

"Good," Sebastian said. "Good, thank you."

"Thanks are not needed; this will further our war effort against the Vong." Sebastian rubbed his face to try to wipe away the exhaustion. "Is there anything you require?"

Sebastian lowered his fingers. "A new chair," he said.

"I will provide two, in case you have further need to remove something from your system." And the worst part, Sebastian thought, was that she wasn't joking with him. What's happened to me? he wondered. Is it all too much? A shiver passed through him. Have I finally just gone crazy?

Go To Part XXII
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