Worlds Without End, Part X

"We've got it sealed. You're clear to depart."

"Thank you," Han said, trying to keep the sarcasm out of his voice. They'd spent the better part of an hour waiting to depart while a mechanic tried to disconnect the Falcon from the freighter, some kind of ruptured sealant hose. Han resisted the urge to punch it and eased easily out of the main fleet to rendezvous with the "orphan fleet" as it had been nicknamed. Leia took a seat in one of the nav computer chairs while they closed in. Han had to admit that he was rather impressed. The Alliance had committed a full eight squadrons of fighters, a dozen Corvettes, nineteen transports, eight freighters, and even two Star Cruisers to this mission. He saw X-wings, A-wings, B-wings, even a squadron of the older Y-wings, all prepared for the journey where there be dragons, Borg-shaped dragons, anyway. "Riekken's not using any half-measures, huh?" Han remarked to Leia.

A Trilon Aggressor slipped over to the Falcon's port. "Here I thought you were having second thoughts," Lando chided him over the comm.

Han scowled at the comm. "There was a little mechanical trouble, not a big deal."

Lando's laugh could be heard over the comm. "Han, did you crash into a mirror warehouse? Your luck is downright abysmal."

Han ignored him and made some course corrections. He turned as he felt Leia tap his shoulder. She was holding up a small pair of dice on a string. "I found these in a maintenance locker," she said as she handed them to Han. "I guess one of the engineers took them down when he was repairing something on Yavin and forgot to put them back."

Han looked at them for a moment and then gave Leia a lopsided grin. He turned and fastened them to their old place above the cockpit viewport, then keyed the comm. "I have a feeling my luck is about to get a whole lot better," he said looking towards Leia, who smiled at him.

"I hope so," Lando replied, "cause you still owe me three hundred credits." There was silence for a few moments. "Be careful, these Borg sound pretty nasty."

"Hey," Han said, trying to raise the mood, "it's me." And on General Riekken's signal, the fleet slipped off into hyperspace.

Picard finished looking over the communication from the Imperials as the turbolift pulled to a halt. The words took his breath away. He realized he was still standing there and stepped out. "What's the status of our defenses, Number One?" he asked, trying to keep his mind focused in a productive direction.

Riker broke off his conversation with Lt. Travis. "We've programmed a random series of modulations into the shields which should be somewhat resistant to the Borg. All torpedo bays have been prepped for a full confrontation, we've run a level three diagnostic on all weapons systems. Mr. LaForge has made some modifications which will increase warp core output by eleven percent, but we'll have to double our maintenance checks and need to power down in a few days to do some stress repairs, but every watt will help." Picard nodded. "Lt. Travis and I were also discussing the possibility of using the shuttlecrafts to fly close to the cube and transport explosives onto key parts of the Borg cube."

"There are no key parts," Picard said, "no weak spots to exploit." He sighed slightly. "People call the Borg a hive, but they are more like a hydra, cut off one head, and there's another waiting for you." He stood in silence for a moment. "Perhaps resistance really is futile," he said under his breath.

Riker stood quietly for some time. Finally he spoke. "Captain, I'd like to discuss something in your ready room."

As the door closed Picard spoke to Riker. "So, tell me what is so important?"

"Permission to speak freely, sir?"

"If this is about the Empire, Will, this is a bad ti-"

"It's not about the Empire, sir, it's about you." Riker hesitated. "Captain, you've just so much admitted that we can't defeat the Borg. Right now, on that bridge."

Picard slowly eased into his chair. "Your point?" he asked coolly.

Riker stood in stunned silence. "All I know is that the Captain Picard I trained under never shared his doubts with the crew," Riker said, leaning forward on the table. "The Captain Picard I know would never consider that his crew would fail."

"I'm not saying this crew will fail," Picard said much louder than necessary. He quickly shifted his view away from Riker. "But what is the point, Will? Even if we do defeat them, what then? They will come again, and again, and again, and eventually they will wear us down and we will lose." He sighed. "I'm sorry. The report from the Empire indicates the Borg have eighty-seven cubes here. I think of that, and then I reflect on my conversation with Seven, about how with hyperdrive the Borg are now living on our doorstep... it's opened my eyes to just how dangerous the situation is. We've been living on borrowed time, Will, and we went about our business as if we would always outsmart the Borg, always know just what to do. We've been lucky, twice, and yet we act as if our victory is assured."

"We have prepared ourselves, Jean-luc, as best as we possibly can," Riker said.

"Did we?"

"And be true to what we are?" Will asked. "Absolutely, sir. If we'd let panic influence our judgment, we'd have stopped being the Federation and started being the Dominion."

Picard nodded. "That's why you have a problem with our mission... with the Empire."

Riker paused. "It's not just that," he said. "These transmissions we've received, word of the rebellion, I'm not sure we're on the right side here, sir."

Picard folded his hands and leaned towards him. "I've heard some of those transmissions. I'll admit that some are disturbing. There's this one here," Picard pulled out a PADD, "yes, a report of warships bombarding a defenseless settlement to try and placate the entire region. The order came all the way from the top."

"As I said, sir, there's reason for concern."

"Oh, wait," Picard said, "I'm mistaken. This is a broadcast made by the Maquis three years ago about the Federation." He flicked his eyes up at Will. "Did we, in fact, bombard defenseless Maquis settlements?"

"Sir, I just-"

"I understand, Will," Picard said, "and I do take this very seriously. But I think we have to look at the situation objectively. So far all our involvements with the Empire have shown that they are reasonable beings. They've made no gestures of hostility towards us, and we both know that with their speed and firepower they could overwhelm the Federation almost as quickly as the Borg can."

"Why bother, when they can acquire the Federation without firing a shot?" Riker held up his hands in a placating gesture. "I know I wasn't the biggest fan of the Empire before, but these transmissions concern me. First it was the Republic, now it's the Empire. That doesn't strike me as being an improvement."

"Come on, Will," Picard said. "You know that between the British Empire and the People's Republic of China, it was the empire that was the more free and tolerant civilization. They're just words, Will."

"And the rebellion?" Riker asked.

"The rebellion," Picard said sharply, "is by definition not our problem. The prime directive is crystal clear on that. We cannot involve ourselves in the internal affairs of the Empire, and that includes their rebel forces. Now I promise you that when this is settled we'll look hard at the situation, but right now we have the deadliest Borg fleet ever assembled within spitting distance of us, and I'd rather focus our energies on our enemy rather than our ally, thank you. That will be all."

Riker's frustration was obvious, but he nodded and showed himself out. Picard turned back to his report, then shook his head again. Eighty-seven... if every power in the alpha quadrant united, could they stop even a tenth of that number? Love them or hate them, Will, he thought, we need the Empire in the frightening place the galaxy had become.

Delric Taar had spent most of his time since his rescue being debriefed, but thankfully he'd finally had a chance to clean up and get some real sleep. It had done wonders for his constitution, and he'd needed it. The grand admiral wanted Taar to fully update the squadron commanders on the fighter tactics employed against the Borg, and where they did and didn't work, and that had required a lot of thought and energy, but his brush with death, and his thought of all the dead or assimilated pilots, gave him more than adrenaline ever could hope to accomplish.

Taar entered Thrawn's office; it was dark, and for a moment he was worried he was disturbing something. Thrawn turned away from the glow of a hologram and looked at him. "Yes, lieutenant?"

With proper military steps, Taar marched into the room and held out the datapad. "The captain ordered me to present the fighter reports to you personally, sir," he said. Thrawn reached out and took the datapad; Taar stood at parade rest while he looked through it. Thrawn's alien features looked even odder in the low light provided by the hologram, but Taar had heard enough from the other officers to know not to let that affect his thinking. Thrawn was top of the line, or he wouldn't be here.

"Are we ready to launch an attack?" Thrawn asked, not looking up from the datapad.

Taar hesitated. "The commanders have been briefed, but they haven't had enough time to run battle simulations with their men, and many of the tactics are still only theoretical."

Thrawn continued reading the datapad, apparently not listening. "It's the area of space where we'll be launching our attack in two days," he remarked. How had he known Taar was looking it over out of the corner of his eye when he wasn't even looking? "I've been positioning our fleet for an attack on the Borg there." Thrawn smiled. "How does it look?"

Taar was silent for several moments. "Are you asking me my opinion, sir?"

"Do you not understand what a question is, lieutenant?" Thrawn replied.

Delric, you idiot! he thought. You say "it looks very good, sir," and nod when told to. But he had the horrible habit of thinking and not keeping his mouth shut when confronted with a bad idea. Well, you're in this deep, stupid, might as well speak your mind. The worst Thrawn could do was put you on the front line in the next battle. "Well sir," he began, "it seems from this model that the attack is rather two-dimensional in nature, when it would be more effective if we made a sizeable attack along vectors here and here," he pointed at various parts of the hologram. "Also, the Dreadnaughts are in a position to take heavier damage than if they were intermixed with the star destroyers here. Of course, that's just my opinion sir."

Thrawn chuckled quietly. "Yes, and your opinion is quite correct, too... except for the part about the fleet coming from here," he paused, "clearly this would be the better approach vector considering the motion of the fleet."

Taar hesitated; well, in for a penny, in for a pound. "Actually, sir, wouldn't we run a greater risk of hitting our own ships with friendly fire?"

Thrawn clapped his hands slightly. "Well done. You've demonstrated a rather keen grasp of ...."

The comm buzzed and a voice sounded. "Admiral, Captain Picard wishes to speak to you, he claims it's urgent."

Thrawn sighed. "Very well." The image of the space battle flattened into a two dimensional image of the Enterprise bridge and Captain Picard.

"Admiral Thrawn," Picard said, "our long range sensors have detected a group of ships entering the Napuli System. We've identified some Nebulon Frigates, but the rest are unfamiliar to us."

Taar looked at Thrawn with some surprise. "The rebels..." he muttered.

Thrawn ignored him. "I'm aware of the ships, captain. You do realize that we have sensors of our own."

"Of course," Picard replied, "but I was concerned that they may need some assistance. That is the heart of Borg space in this galaxy..."

Thrawn shook his head. "It's too soon. Everyone has been warned to stay away; if the Borg catch them, then that's the price they pay for underestimating them."

"I understand, admiral," Picard said, but he obviously wasn't very happy about it. "Enterprise out."

Thrawn sighed again as the image disappeared. "One thing you'll learn dealing with the Federation," he commented to Taar, "is that they want to solve every problem in the universe, and they want to do it right now. They're a society of idealistic children." Taar said nothing; he'd had pretty much no experience with the Federation and frankly could care less. The Borg were the only thing on his mind lately. "I need someone with experience to have the pilots trained and ready to fight the Borg in two days. Are you up to the task?"

Taar brought himself to full attention. "Absolutely. They'll be ready, sir."

Thrawn replaced the hologram with an image of some type of statue. "Very good, major. I suggest you get started immediately."

Taar saluted and walked out. A promotion and a chance for vengeance on the Borg. This was his lucky day.

This is not my lucky day, thought Han.

The fleet had dropped out of hyperspace right on course, a short distance from the wormhole. Unfortunately, so was a Borg cube. "All fighters," came the orders from the Liberty, Riekken's flagship, "provide cover for the transports." The rest was cut off by Leia and Threepio as Han put the Falcon into a series of crazy maneuvers while Borg weapons tried to catch them.

"We are the Borg. You will be assimilated. Resistance is futile."

"Confident bunch, aren't they," Han grunted putting the ship through several evasive maneuvers.

"We're doomed!" Threepio moaned from the other navigator chair.

"Don't start!" Han warned. He yanked the Falcon into another tight turn as a nearby X-Wing was caught in a tractor beam, slowly pulled towards the cube.

"We've just got to keep them distracted for another minute," Leia said.

"Yeah, well, a lot can happen to us in a minute," Han said with a nervous edge in his voice as he turned some knobs above him. The Falcon's lasers fired, but they stopped short of the cube. "Or very very little," he said, jerking away as a Borg weapon struck a nearby B-Wing. The Liberty was also running cover now, firing its heavy guns at the cube, but it couldn't stay for long. It could beat one cube without breaking a sweat, but every minute wasted trying to engage it was another that allowed some of his friends to get closer.

Chewie suddenly growled something at Han. "What? Where?" Han asked frantically. Chewie pointed and the Falcon came around, and Leia saw the Trillon Agressor caught in the Borg tractor beam.

Luke, Lando's in trouble. Luke didn't hear it, but he heard her words in his mind.

I'm on my way. "Hang on, Artoo," he sound out loud as he pushed the X-Wing to full throttle. He closed in, but Han was already there, and two quick concussion missiles vaporized the tractor emitter. Luke adjusted his course slightly and fired a few shots on the surface for all the good it did. But the closer he got, the nagging sensation he had was growing worse and worse, and he realized that what he'd thought was worry was actually the sensation of the Borg. They felt completely wrong. Each was unique, and yet each thought and acted as one. It was like the optical illusion that could be a young woman or an old hag depending on how you looked at it, and it was making his head hurt.

The cube shook under a particularly devastating attack from the star cruiser, and for a moment the many thoughts pulled together. With so many thinking the same thing, it would have been impossible for Luke not to pick up on it. "This is Commander Skywalker," Luke said. "All available fighters, form up on me, Attack Pattern Delta." The ships pulled away and formed a line behind Luke like a string of pearls. Luke led the way around in a wide arc. "Arm your proton torpedoes," he ordered. Got that, Leia?

Yeah, I got it. "Han, there's a weak spot in their defenses," Leia said. "Follow Luke in and fire your missiles."

Han's hands were flying over the controls. "How can you possibly know that?" he asked. He saw Leia shift uncomfortably in her seat. "Forget I said anything," he said, altering course. "I hope you've got a good feeling about this." Luke's X-wing swooped in first, firing his torpedoes and pulling up so the one behind him could do the same. One pair wasn't enough to penetrate, but the endless barrage opened the path for the ones near the back -including the Falcon's missiles- to get through. They slammed into the opening in the cube, and instantly explosions ripped through various parts of the ship. Han looked stunned for a second as they pulled up, then grinned. "See, I told you," he said to Chewie, "no problems." Chewie barked a reply. "So, who's the lucky one now, hey Lando?"

"Me," Lando replied, "lucky that you showed up. Thanks."

Han brought the Falcon around and headed towards the wormhole with the rest of the fleet. "Let's hope we don't have to try this again real soon, okay?" And with that, the orphan fleet left the galaxy behind.

Go To Part XI
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