Shadows of the Night, Part V

"Twelve ships approaching, Cube class," the lieutenant informed him.

"Order the Vehement and the Melkin to cover the right flank," said Admiral Thrawn.

"Launch all TIEs," said Col. Delric Taar to his aide.

"Borg at fifty thousand klicks," he was informed.

"Order all squadrons to concentrate on weapons emplacements." Taar left the individual motions in the hands of the squadron commanders for now. The large display showed the locations of the fighters in relation to the star destroyers and the approaching Cubes. They approached quickly, holding their fire until they had visual confirmation, as they had been told during the many briefings; one didn't take chances with the Borg. As a result, some dozen ships were destroyed before they even reached the targets. But out of thirty squadrons, that still left a great deal to deal with the Borg.

"Fire at will," Taar ordered.

After several seconds he received visual confirmation: thirteen successful hits, five of the targets completely disabled. The ships curved away and prepared for a second assault.

"Energy surge," his lieutenant informed him.

"What ki-" but Taar never finished. To his astonishment, all but two of his TIEs vanished from the screen, the sign of the small explosions from their reactors appearing on the uncaring display with quiet accuracy. "No," he murmured. One of the remaining TIEs, Black 2 from appearance, was blown out of space by a Borg torpedo. Taar, his face a twisted mass of anger, turned and strode out. His subordinates looked at each other with uncertainty, but seeing there was no need to continue, got up and left their stations, passing the technician on the way out. "End simulation," he said simply, and the room vanished.

Having shut down the holodeck the engineer stepped out of the hall towards Col. Taar's office. He was slightly surprised to find the colonel leaning against the corridor wall, fuming at nothing. He stepped up and held out the datapad. "Report sir," he said formally, flinching slightly as the datapad was yanked from his hand with a snap of the colonel's wrist, only to slip it into his uniform pocket. Knowing when to retreat the engineer nodded in acknowledgement and returned to the holodeck for a diagnostic.

After some time Taar finally pulled out the datapad and began examining it. "What happened?" a voice said suddenly, taking Taar slightly by surprise.

Taar drew himself up in the presence of the Admiral. "My apologies sir," he said quickly, "I failed to notice your approach."

Thrawn nodded. "You still have not answered the question."

Taar's insides tightened a little. "The Borg anticipated our approach," he said stiffly. "They used their transporters against us; they beamed all kinds of debris into their flight path and destroyed the ships."

"How many TIEs were destroyed?" Thrawn asked evenly.

Taar sighed. "Fourteen to weapons fire. Over three hundred to the flak. One survivor."

"Unacceptable," Thrawn remarked. "We cannot waste thirty squadrons in such a manner."

"Of course sir," Taar replied wearily. It was an abysmal failure, and the ultimate responsibility fell to him. "The Borg managed to adapt to our jamming techniques and were able to use the transporters. Our tactics were too predictable. I will address these areas with our squadron commanders at the briefing at 1800 hours."

Thrawn nodded. "Do not underestimate the Borg. Our victories are not a sign of our superiority, and we should not become complacent." His red eyes burned into Taar. "I only choose the best and I expect the same. Simulations are simulations, colonel; learn from it. But such a failure must never happen in battle."

Taar came to full attention. "Understood, sir." Thrawn nodded and continued down the hall. Taar flared with rage at himself; such a stupid mistake! How could he have failed to anticipate this?! Thrawn was unhappy and Taar couldn't blame him. It really bothered him, especially after Thrawn had shown such confidence in him over the past four years, promoting him twice and taking time to discuss tactics with the former TIE pilot. Taar returned to his office with renewed determination; partly to sooth his damaged ego, but mostly to find new and deadly ways to wreak havoc on the Borg. When they did decide to attack, he would most definitely be ready, and would not fail.

Lando Calrissian is a businessman. Over time he's mastered the fine art of negotiation, the skill of management, the ability to trim waste and increase profit, and to satisfy his customers. He's become respectable. But no matter how fine the clothes or stylish the decor or fancy the women, the root of who he was would always remain. He was a gambler, a sneak, an occasional cheat, and he knew there was a time to talk, a time to walk, and a time to run like hell. A scoundrel who'd hit the big time more than once, and men who did that developed certain instincts. Lando wasn't always proud of his past, but the man he was still lived in the man he is. And that man had just saved his life.

He wasn't sure what exactly he heard, but he suddenly opened his eyes and realized that he wasn't alone. Careful to avoid any movement he noticed the shape, a single shadow in the dark that was wrong. Its creep was so stealthy most would only have dismissed it as a trick of the darkness, but not him. His mind quickly ticked through the events, honed to the point of making the decisions on a sub-conscious level, but this didn't change their accuracy. Someone was in his room, in the dark, deliberately trying to avoid detection, and approaching him. Either they wanted something in his quarters or they wanted him, and Calrissian wasn't going to let them have either.

"Lights," he said as he rolled off the bed, causing the room to come to full illumination and temporarily blinding his opponent. "Lights off," he said almost as quickly, and the room was pitch black, the invader now having completely lost his nightvision. Lando scrambled for a weapon while the figure bumped over a table, muttering a quiet curse, and bolted.

Lando found his blaster and stood up. "Lights," he said suddenly, his barrel pointed straight at where the voice had been, but there was nothing. A quick search revealed that his quarters were empty, but it didn't take him much thought to decide what to do next. Throwing on his robe he stormed out of his room towards the promenade.

"Quark!" he yelled before he'd even reached the entrance to the bar. "You sneaky, double- crossing, two-faced..." he stopped in the middle of his tirade, a look of absolute shock on his face. "What the..." The gambler was speechless.

"There seem to be a problem?" Quark asked. He looked Calrissian up and down. "Nice outfit."

"No," Lando said, Quark completely forgotten. "No, it can't be."

The stranger, who'd been watching Lando since he entered, turned back to Quark. "Now, where were we?"

"You're not..." Lando began and then stopped.

"Perhaps there's been a case of mistaken identity," Quark said, trying to placate matters. "Lando Calrissian, my business partner," the Ferengi said, although it was hard to keep the contempt out of his voice when he said the last part. "This gentleman," he said, indicating the man at the bar, "is Boba Fett."

Luke could sense Leia's tension as he approached her quarters, piercing the swirl of sensations that came from all the individuals on this station. Romulus had a very different feel from Vulcan. On the latter, the contained fury of emotions rumbled deep down under control like the pressure of tectonic activity, whereas the former exploded to the surface in wave after wave of passions. It was an interesting sensation, but one that quickly was ignored as his thoughts dwelled on his sister.

Their reunion was quite joyous and they embraced one another; it had been a long time. Still, even then Luke could sense something beneath the surface. He couldn't ignore it. "What's wrong?"

Leia was quiet, apparently uncertain of whether or not she should trouble him with her feelings. "It's Han," she remarked. "I've just had this awful feeling that something terrible happened."

One of the results of his experience with the Vulcans was an even greater use of his telepathic abilities. He knew immediately what she was referring to. "It's the Borg, isn't it."

Leia looked at him with surprise. "Yes," she said quietly. "I've- I've seen them in my mind. In visions." She shivered. "They're terrifying."

Luke nodded; he understood far too well. "I've felt it too," he replied, putting his arm around her. "But, I think Han and Chewie are alright."

"I wish I could be certain of that," Leia replied with a panged tone.

"I'm sure of it," Luke assured her.

She smiled a little, but the worry was still there. "Have you heard about the Borg? They're expanding?"

"No," Luke replied, "But... but I did know something was going on."

"How?"

He hesitated. "I've been... searching. Searching for him." He didn't have to say who for, they both knew.

"He can be anywhere," Leia pointed out. "The universe is a pretty big place."

"Size matters not," Luke mumbled. "I've felt him," he said, his own voice suddenly filled with emotion. "Briefly, I'll admit. But he's alive." He slumped a little in his chair. "Anyway, that's how I know."

"Know what?"

"About the Borg," he said. "Every time I reach out there they overwhelm my senses. I can hear their single-minded thoughts echoing across the cosmos."

Leia hesitated, but she had to ask. "What are they thinking?"

Luke shook his head. "It's too much too fast, I can't really make it out." He was silent as he thought. "Except, except for one word. One word kept appearing. 'Anansi.' Mean anything to you?"

"No," Leia admitted. Anansi? Maybe it was a planet or a race that was of particular importance to the Borg's plans. In any event, they should probably find out more soon. Given what the Borg had been up to, a war with them was inevitable.

Kira was on her way to her quarters when the shouting drew her attention. Shouting, from Quark's, at 0200. She sighed and tapped her communicator. "Security, send a unit to the promenade please, we may have to deal with a surly individual or two." The comm acknowledged as she crossed towards the bar, half expecting to duck out of the way of flying bits of furniture. She was a bit shocked to find only a single customer, Quark, and Calrissian in his robe. "What's going on?" she asked calmly but forcefully.

Lando turned to her for a moment and then focused all of his attention on Fett. "There was an intruder in my quarters tonight. Maybe an assassin."

Quark laughed. "My aren't we paranoid."

"I don't take midnight invaders as a joke, Quark!" he shouted. "You want to buy out my share of the bar, fine; but you're not scaring me off!"

"I haven't the slightest idea what you're talking about," Quark said in his sniggering voice.

"And what about him?" Lando demanded, indicating Fett. "Is he here to muscle me out too?"

"Definitely paranoid." Quark put a drink on the counter near Lando. "Care for a nightcap? It'd go perfect with your outfit at least."

"Hold it a second," Kira said, holding up her hand and stepping between Fett and Lando, "Back up. Someone attacked you?"

"Yes. Just a short while ago." Lando glared at Quark. "I wonder who'd want me to get paranoid and leave?"

"Alright," Kira said, a little louder than she'd intended. She turned and glared at Quark, watching the Ferengi squirm uncomfortably under it. "If I find out you had anything to do with this-"

"I'm innocent!" he replied emphatically. "Honestly, you've known me long enough to know I may rob, cheat and steal, but I'd never stoop to hiring an assassin."

"Then what's he here for then?" Lando asked loudly, pointing to Boba Fett. "Rather strange coincidence that he just so happened to show up on our little station on this night of all nights."

"Calrissian," Fett said, his first words since Kira arrived, "if I wanted you dead, you'd be dead."

"I don't have much tolerance for hired killers on my station," Kira said with iciness in her voice.

"I'm not a hired killer," Fett said plainly, and turned away. Kira grabbed his shoulder and turned him back.

"Listen," she said, her face inches from his mask, "I have no tolerance for law breakers either. You even think about stepping out of line and I'll have you behind a force field faster than you can imagine."

Her eyes remained fixed on that blank, lifeless face, the sound of her heartbeat distant in her ears. "Was there something else?" Fett asked after about ten seconds had passed.

She turned away from him to Lando. "Let's head down to security and take your statement," she said, and the two of them left the bar.

"Who is he?" she asked Lando as they slowly walked through the quiet halls of the station.

"His name, if it really is him, is Boba Fett. One of the best bounty hunters in our galaxy."

"Bounty hunters?" Kira said in surprise. "I'd have thought Quark would stay a mile away from them, considering the last one beat the tar out of him."

"Well, if Quark wanted one, he's gone straight to the top," Lando said. "If it is Fett, he's even tougher than I imagined, and I had already learned a healthy respect for the man." He shook his head. "None of this make sense, Kira. He's not the man I saw. What's more, Fett commands a pretty high fee, and well, we know Quark's tight on funds. Unless he's doing something on the sly I don't know about..."

Kira nodded. "So, as always, there's more going on with our little Ferengi friend than meets the eye."

Han's stomach twisted slightly as the Millennium Falcon was replaced by the transporter room on the Enterprise. He stepped forward to shake hands with Captain Riker himself, whose expression belied his concern. "Good to see you're still in one piece, captain," Riker remarked.

"Wish I could say the same for the rest of Yarval Outpost," Han replied grimly. Riker nodded in agreement.

"We haven't heard too much about the attack. Any idea how bad things were?"

Chewie's mournful growl just about summed it all up for Han. "Planet's lost," Han said. "I'd say we lost twenty ships. Several thousand people."

"Tragic," Riker said, "but given that it was a Borg attack, it could've been a lot worse." Han didn't speak, but all he could think about was the hypermatter reactor research. It was classified, so he'd have to keep it to himself. Riker pointed to the large cargo container on the platform. "What's that?"

Han glanced back at it. "Souvenir. A little something the Borg sent our way. Wanna take a look?" The threesome stepped up onto the platform and Han opened the seal with a slight hiss.

Riker peered at the remains of the drone. "What is it?"

Han shook his head as he looked at it. "I was kinda hoping you could tell me. Nasty sucker." He looked at Riker, trying to emphasize the seriousness of this beast. "This thing managed to get on board. Took three shots from a medium blaster cannon to put it down - enough to take out a shuttlecraft."

"Had it adapted?"

Han shook his head. "I don't think so. It was being hit, but it just kept coming, like it was nothing. Whatever it is, it's pretty dangerous."

Riker turned to two crewmen. "Take it down to sickbay, have Dr. Crusher take a look." He asked Han to fill him in while they carried out the orders. Han knew about the Enterprise and the Borg; any info would probably help.

"Three cubes, five spheres," Han informed him as they proceeded to the turbolift. "Definitely not standard Borg procedure."

"Agreed. The Borg are minimalists by nature. Eight vessels to attack a single world is certainly out of the ordinary."

"The Borg don't strike me as the type who experiment with new tactics," Han remarked as the doors to the lift closed.

"No." Riker was thoughtful. "They adapt, they assimilate. This just doesn't sound right for them." He was lost in thought until the doors opened and the trio walked into sickbay. Dr. Crusher was already examining the corpse.

"Anything you can tell us doctor?" Riker asked as they approached.

Dr. Crusher tapped some information into her PADD. "Cause of death: weapons discharge."

"Nice," Han remarked, always one to appreciate a sardonic remark.

Dr. Crusher continued her examination. "I've never encountered it before; pity the specimen's so badly damaged."

"Yeah, well, we didn't have much choice in the matter." Chewie offered a growl in agreement.

"Can you identify the species?" Riker asked.

"Sorry, not my specialty, but we can have the computer run a search on known species. Of course, it'll take a while."

Riker nodded and tapped his communicator. "Commander of Nine, report to sickbay." While Crusher finished setting up the scanning program Riker looked long and hard at the drone. "Seven has the knowledge of ten thousand sentient species," he said to Han, "hopefully she can help us identify this one."

Moments later she arrived. Han hadn't actually met her in person before, but Luke and Leia had mentioned her a few times, usually that she was very good at what she did. He hoped they weren't overselling her, 'cause if they ever needed someone with smarts, this was the time. "You wished to see me, captain?"

"Seven, we've encountered a new Borg drone, we're wondering if you can help us identify the species."

Seven walked up to the cargo container. When she reached it there was an audible gasp that caught everyone's attention. She stepped back to try to keep her balance as she swayed unsteadily on her feet. "No," she muttered under her breath, "it's impossible."

"Commander," Riker said, trying to get her attention. "Commander what's wrong."

Seven looked at him with a mixture of horror and despair. "Captain, things are even worse than we had feared."

"Commander," Riker said firmly, "What is that thing?"

She held the edge of the container in her hand as she stared down at the corpse. "Species 8472." She shook her head. "They've been assimilated."

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