Dawn of Forever, Part I

This is the life of Sebastian Skywalker.

There was still the faintest hint of the sunrise taint on the eastern horizon, and the smell in the air of damp from the storm the night before. It's quiet and still, but it won't last long, but for now Sebastian sits in front of his house. He enjoys the solitude, but only as someone who knows it's a brief interruption in the hustle and bustle of his life, with a lovely wife and wonderful daughter to share it. Some days, especially after the rain has come to wash the corruption away, you need to watch the dawn and see to it that the new day has arrived. Each one was a gift - well, not a gift so much as a bit of stolen time, but it was probably nicer to think of it as a gift.

The presence was felt long before she arrived, but Sebastian didn't turn until after he felt a kiss on his cheek. "Good morning, daddy," Morgan said, then turning to watch the sky. "We don't have much time," she finally said.

"Then prep the speeder," Sebastian said. "I'll be along shortly." Minutes passed, then with all things duly prepped the trio set off across the planet's surface until they reached the home of Luke and Annika Skywalker. Most of the other guests had been staying in a nearby hotel, so the celebration was already underway. Food was being prepared under the now cloudless sky in an atmosphere that was just warm enough to counter the cool breeze. Gorren was sitting at the center of a mob of children, telling stories of the glorious battles of his youth. There was a quick all around welcoming for Sebastian and his family before everyone settled back into their various forms of revelry. Luke, as usual, was discussing the Jedi Academy with Jacen Solo, and explaining very patiently and tactfully that the young whippersnapper didn't know what he was talking about. Han and Kilana also tended to talk shop, although the fact that the Vorta woman was using the Falcon for their cargo ventures may have explained Han's constant concern with the business. Overall, however, the air was filled with a sense of relaxation.

Sebastian settled into a chair with a drink and watched the scene. Gorren, much to the chagrin of the children, had finished for now and was helping himself to some food using a reinforced Klingon plate. The sound of disappointment from the young ones caused Annika to emerge from the aether and take a cross-legged seat amongst them; a hush soon descended around the area. Even the older children stopped to listen when Annika told a story, because she had thousands of cultures to draw upon.

"On the alien world of Knidor," she began, "there was a writer named Lindo. His name went down in history because of a certain amazing series of events that transpired millennia after he died. Many had, naturally, read his works, full of flights of fancy most said. However, the flight of fancy that was most significant was his, well, flight of fancy," she said with a laugh, "specifically the flying city of Ohr, as told in Crown of the Heavens. It was richly described and wonderfully conceived, and alone among his works, was the kind of setting that could get the imagination of even the most harsh critic of his writing soaring right alongside it.

"Centuries after he'd written the story, the technology had progressed enough that the vision of the floating metropolis moved from the realm of fantasy to the realm of possibility. Great repulsorlifts held the first city aloft; it was crude, but it seemed to fit a niche in the imagination of the Knidori, because several others were constructed over the following decades. Eventually, on the 1500th anniversary of the publication of Crown of the Heavens, the largest nation-state on Knidor completed an exact replica of Ohr as it was described in the book, down to the tiniest detail.

"Two months later, disaster struck."

"Did the cities fall down?" one of the children asked.

"It wasn't a disaster for the floating cities," Annika explained. "Instead it was the worst calamity the planet had ever experienced. A collision by an errant moon devastated the world; everyone on the surface was killed, along with most of the floating cities. Most... but not all. A few survived the harrowing ordeal and eventually, when their planet settled down, they were able to resettle. They also knew that, had it not been for the vision of Lindo, their entire civilization, their entire species, would have been wiped out. He became an even more celebrated figure in their culture, and the people of Knidor eventually shunned the ground for the flying cities; it seemed ungrateful not to dwell there.

"Eventually the Knidori discovered faster than light travel and met other civilizations, and like many, learned a little of time travel. While they knew the cardinal rule was not to interfere with causality-"

"What's a causality?" another child asked.

"Things happening one after another," Annika said in the hope that was simple enough for the little ones. "Anyway, the leadership of their world felt it only right to show a proper thanks to the being that ensured the continued existence of his people. So eventually, Lindo was brought to the city of Ohr to be thanked personally for all he had done. He was absolutely astonished at what they showed him, and the Knidori beamed to themselves that they had been so able to grasp the vision that Lindo had had. There was, however, only one problem."

"What was that?"

"Lindo hadn't had this vision. Through a minor miscalculation, the author had been plucked from the time before he wrote the story rather than after. It was only to be expected after thousands of years and a minor apocalypse that a few dates might be skewed. After seeing everything, Lindo was returned to his own time, and the vision of the future had so captured his imagination that he was unable to resist writing about the fantastic place in his book: Crown of the Heavens."

"Wait," Morgan said, "if he got the idea for the book from the city, and they got the idea for the city from the book, then where did the idea actually come from?"

Annika smiled. "God, Time, the Force, what have you. Someone or something somewhere knew that there was a thing that was needed, and all it had to do was be plugged into the universe. It didn't need neat, trimmed edges, it didn't need proper causality, it just needed to be in the right place at the right time."

"It's not logical," Morgan said sharply.

"No, it isn't," Annika said. "But the story is still there, and the Knidori have taken their part within the Empire as if nothing had ever happened."

"If the will of the Force can move worlds and show past and future," Luke said, "I don't see why it can't take advantage of a temporal hiccup if it will save a race from extinction."

"Yes, grandfather," Morgan conceded. "But that's a frightening thought."

"We trust in the Force to guide us," Luke offered.

"No, I know that. What I mean is, this was obviously the light side of the Force. If it could save a world from extinction..." Morgan shivered. "What kind of horrors could the dark side unleash?"

The silence spread across the group like a cloud eclipsing the sun. Those with a greater touch of the Force suddenly had some very undesirable images float through their imaginations, but just as quickly things returned to normal. There was no sense in dwelling on potential cosmic influence when there were drinks available.

The day passed with the mixed time sensation of all outdoor parties, managing to fly by as it plodded, like a high-speed playback of a snail race. Inevitably the festivities died down and people said their goodbyes, and a speeder sped across the planet's surface back to the home of Sebastian and Jorrielle Skywalker. After the long day Sebastian turned in early.

This is the life of Sebastian Skywalker.

His eyes opened, and information flooded into his mind, and his thoughts were one with the billions of other minds. He stepped from his alcove and approached the Queen, who had completed regeneration some time earlier. She was addressing Romal, attorney for the Borg Collective and general liaison with those outside the Collective. Romal the Attorney had just returned from a two week vacation he had requested due to stress, but it seemed to have failed because he was even more stressed than he'd been before he'd left.

"Look at this!" he demanded, which was curious because he didn't actually show them the datapad. "You cancelled negotiations with Cybot?! What were you thinking?"

"Our designs are unique," the Queen informed him. "We will not pay them because of their irrational beliefs that we have stolen their intellectual property."

"But we could have settled without having to go to court!" Romal shouted. "That was the point of the meeting! We'll pay more in court costs than we would have settling."

"That does not seem right," Sebastian remarked.

"The court system seems flawed," the Queen agreed.

"It's just the way it works," Romal said wearily.

"It does not seem to work," Sebastian said. "That is the problem."

"And what's this?" Romal demanded, again not showing them what he was talking about. "The governor of the sector says that you sent a threatening message to the mining colony around NZ1-M2? What were you doing?"

"Following your instructions," Sebastian said.

"You will recall that you refused receipt of your fruit basket before the period of non-work began," the Queen said.

"That basket before my vacation?" Romal said. "Oh, you mean the sixth one you offered me that month? Yes, what of it? I said I didn't want the damn thing."

"Yes," Sebastian said. "Your instructions were to put it 'where the sun don't shine.'"

"We had to extrapolate a bit," the Queen said, "but NZ1-M2 is a black dwarf, and thus seemed to fit your instructions."

Romal closed his eyes and rubbed his forehead. "This would be the one with the card, 'You are a valuable organic resource to the Borg,' yes?"

"We mean it as a compliment," Sebastian said.

"I will try to straighten this out," he said with a sigh. "For the record, the remark was a metaphor."

"Was it?" the Queen asked. "What for?"

"It-" Romal stopped. "It's not important."

"Perhaps the future?" Sebastian asked the Queen. "As we cannot see the future, perhaps it would be considered a place that is dark, ergo, where the sun does not shine?"

"Interesting," the Queen said. "Storing it away for later, therefore?"

"Possibly," Sebastian said.

"That's not important," Romal said testily. "What is is trying to get along with our neighbors and business associates. We still have a long way to go in overcoming the Borg's previous reputation."

"Our assistance to the Empire should have helped our 'public relations,'" the Queen said, referring to the joint Imperial-Borg attack on the Vong months before.

"And it did, to a degree," Romal said. "The problem is that the Empire isn't all that popular, especially in light of their aggressive foreign policy."

"You are referring to the destruction of the Malon world?" the Queen asked.

"Yes, as a matter of fact," Romal replied.

"But they were warned," Sebastian pointed out. "Everyone knows that if you attack the Empire, the Eclipse will show up and destroy your world. They should have expected it."

"That doesn't matter," Romal said. "It still made the Empire look like the villains in this."

"But the Malon were the aggressors," the Queen remarked.

"Yes, but somehow responding to a raid of a nearby system by destroying an entire planet did not go over very well with the general populace of the galaxy. I've no idea why." The Borg could detect to the tiniest degree the pitch, volume, and timbre of Romal's voice, but sadly they had yet to develop an instrument to measure sarcasm.

"It is not our concern," the Queen finally concluded. "We have our business license, and the assurance that General Taar will not turn the Imperial military against us."

"Yes," Romal said, "but you've got to look at the larger picture."

"We are Borg," Sebastian said. "We always look at the larger picture."

"The Empire may be winning the war, but it's falling apart at the same time," Romal pointed out. "The dismissal of the Senate, Taar's grasp at power, the fragmenting of the territory. The Empire is dying... some say it's already dead."

"The Empire is not a living thing," the Queen pointed out. "It cannot die. It can end."

"Yes," Romal said icily. "It's another metaphor."

"Dying, and already dead," Sebastian said.

"Paradoxical," the Queen remarked.

"Perhaps it's a reflection of somatic death."

"What?" Romal asked.

"When an organic being such as yourself dies, Romal," Sebastian explained, "you do not die all at once. Some parts can continue to survive for minutes afterwards."

"Like the Empire," the Queen said, exploring this new idea. "Dead, yet still plodding on."

"Logical," Sebastian said. "The decay usually first sets in in the frontal lobe, reflecting the loss of the representative government. The decay leaves only the r-complex, representative of the aggression of the military government."

"Okay, that's quite enough," Romal said.

"Consider that after death," the Queen continued, "the secretion of protective mucus ceases, allowing digestive chemicals to penetrate their linings and actually consume parts of the body, reducing the contents of the abdominal cavity to liquid. Self-digestion fits the behavior of systems such as the Malons who attempt to turn on other parts of the Empire."

"Please," Romal said, holding his stomach.

"And the rapid build-up of bacteria," Sebastian said, "unfettered by the defenses of the body, is an accurate description of the Hirogen and Mistryl that have been harassing us, resulting in the festering pustules and foul release of toxins which-"

"All right!" Romal said. "Can we just get back to the matter at hand?!"

"The Mistryl?"

"NO! The-" Romal paused in mid rant. "Wait, yes, the Mistryl. Korri Rej waylaid the shipment we were sending to the Imperial depot in Sector 127. It's going to set us back substantially, but the Empire needs those droids right away, which means our commercial vendors are going to have to wait. That cuts into our future sales."

"We are aware," the Queen said.

"Rej has vowed to increase attacks on the Borg unless we stop aiding the Empire," Romal said. "Business or otherwise."

"Raiders and terrorists are bad for business, yes?" Sebastian asked. "Then we must continue to oppose them."

"Yes, I agree," Romal said. "But perhaps if we negotiated something-"

"No," the Queen said, "we will not."

"But if we can work something out-"

"No," Sebastian said again. "If we deal with them, it would cost us more than if we did not. That is just the way it works."

To any known scanner that existed in the galaxy, the planet was as barren and lifeless as most planets tended to be. This was usually because conditions for life had been lacking, whether it be a shortage of temperature or energy or elements. Life crept up (or in some cases, slithered up) so frequently that it seemed to be everywhere, but space contains so much everywhere that the handful of places just seem like everywhere. This world, however, was full of life, but the Vong didn't want that secret getting out.

It was the amazing thing about conspiracies; when you had the right agencies involved, there were nearly no limits to what you could accomplish. It had started with Senator Alixus' contacts identifying the activity of a high-ranking clerk within the Empire named Deln Ibar, who seemed to have some kind of knowledge of General Taar's fleet movements. With the target identified, the Sith Lord -Ben Skywalker- was more than capable of overwhelming the security and capturing Ibar alive and mostly intact. With the underworld contacts of Garak and his Cardassians, slipping Ben's ship through the security around Wormhole Station was simple enough. And now, at the end of the journey, the Sith set his ship down on what his instruments told him was a lifeless world, grabbed Ibar, and dragged him out.

On the world was the last link in the chain. Nom Anor waited, hands folded, watching the Sith and prisoner with a blank expression. The groups were not allies as such, but the chain was a kind of loose-knit collection working towards their own ends in the defeat of the Empire, and thus far had been doing very, very good work.

Ibar had information that was only in his head, and that made him valuable to these groups. But, while Ben may have been able to manipulate him, or Alixus blackmail him, or Garak just torture him, only Nom Anor had the means to gather all of the information with its context and details thoroughly intact. A tendril shot out of the darkness, caught Ibar around the middle, and yanked him into a writhing mass of biomatter. Within seconds, Ibar ceased to exist, but the knowledge became part of the greater mind of the composite being Nom Anor called the Hive, which devoted all thoughts towards the singular goal of those groups. Soon, it would be able to achieve it.

Go To Part II
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