Shadows of the Night, Part XXI

"Oh my God," Barclay said with subdued panic, "Oh my God I've killed her."

"She's not dead," Dr. Bashir said. "Pulse and respiration are weak, but she's alive."

"She might as well be dead," Borui said, disgusted with herself for not stopping this madness while there was still a chance. "There's no brain activity, and I'm not feeling anything from her."

"Let's not go jumping to conclusions," Bashir said quietly.

"Conclusions! She's brain-dead Bashir! We've turned her into a vegetable!"

Bashir came around the table, his anger visibly restrained. "I don't know where you got your training, but you are a very poor excuse for a doctor."

"Perhaps," Borui shot back, "But I don't perform bizarre medical experiments on my patients."

Borui could feel his anger grow at the remark, but he still refused to release it. "Get out," was his quiet reply. She looked over at Seven, lying there on that table. Her only movement was the small rise and fall of her chest from her breathing, but other than that, nothing. So much potential, squandered on this crazed gamble. The thought made her ill, and she found no difficulty in following Dr. Bashir's order.

"I should have known," she said as she played with the glass, watching the green liquid swirl a little at her touches. "It's my job to know."

"Look, you can't beat yourself up over this," Lando said from behind the bar. "She's a grown woman, and she makes her own decisions."

"But was she qualified to make those decisions? Was she competent?" She let out a heavy sigh and swallowed the contents of her glass, feeling the warmth expand from her chest through her body slowly. She smiled, but it was the smile of exhaustion, when the brain decides that reality is too much to take and it's time to just leave things be. "Puff the magic dragon lived by the sea..." she sang quietly.

Lando leaned forward and plucked the glass out of her hands. "I haven't heard that one in here before," he remarked as he started to refill the glass.

"It was her favorite song when she was a little girl," Borui commented. "Her mother sang it to her all the time." She took the glass back and watched the swirling contents again for a while. "I wonder what happened in those last few seconds."

"Look," Lando said, "I'm not a councilor, I'm not even a bartender really, but if I were you, I'd go back to my quarters, take a sed, and get some sleep; approach the problem with a fresh perspective in the morning."

"Might not be a bad idea," she remarked. She finished her drink and returned it to the bar. A fresh outlook, that's exactly what she needed. "Thank you," she said, and Lando gave her a friendly nod as she turned and left.

A nondescript figure stood in the corridor, gave her a glance as if in passing, then continued up the corridor to a communication terminal. A bit of simple slicing secured the channel. "Inform the Blessed One," he said. "The Borg woman has been neutralized by the Collective, exactly as the Emperor predicted." His breathing showed his contained excitement. "Everything is going as planned."

Corran jumped to his feet when he saw Wedge enter the hangar. "Commander!" he said, figuring that after what happened using Wedge's first name would be pushing his luck. He'd expected a thorough chewing out when they rendezvoused with the Republic fleet at Romulus, but instead Wedge just gave him the cold shoulder and hadn't spoken to him since.

"Captain," Wedge said icily.

"About what happened-"

"Spare me," Wedge said continuing his walk.

"I'm sorry!" Corran said.

Wedge drew to a halt, then turned back to face Corran. "Let me tell you what's going to happen." He leaned against the wall. "You are going to resign your commission, personal reasons. This whole thing goes away."

Corran gaped at him. "What?"

"If you refuse, the matter goes up the chain of command. There will be a formal inquiry at which I will testify under oath that you deliberately and willfully disregarded my direct orders, resulting in the deaths of your squadron mates. For that you will almost certainly receive a dishonorable discharge and possibly prison time."

"I was just-"

"I know what you were just doing, captain," Wedge said sharply. "I wanted to go back as much as you did, but we do not have the luxury of indulging our personal feelings when we have a mission to accomplish, especially one of this scope."

Corran looked about in frustration. "Look, I know I screwed up-"

"Screwed up?! Those people are dead, Corran! Have you gotten your head around that?! They're dead!"

"I realize that," Corran said. "And I'm sorry. But you need every pilot you can get, Wedge, now more than ever."

"Exactly," Wedge said. "I need pilots. What I don't need are arrogant, hot-dogging glory hounds who will follow their guts instead of my orders. If you do that, you're a liability to my squadron, and I won't tolerate it."

"Wedge, please," Corran pleaded.

"You don't get it, do you?" Wedge said. "You wanted to be Luke Skywalker, you wanted to be right up there with him. And you know what's sad is that maybe you could have been, but you missed out on the big difference. You want to be a hero, you take the responsibility that comes with it, and that means knowing that people admire you, trust you. You become someone that people look up to, and you have to remember that it gives you power. At the wormhole, you abused that power, and two pilots are dead because of it." He shook his head with contempt. "And that's why you will never, ever, be Luke Skywalker." Corran just stared, because no words would come to mind. "I can't keep you, can't let the rest of my squadron think that we can have pilots like this. We may be Rogue Squadron, but it doesn't make us undisciplined." He straightened up. "Fill out the paperwork, then get your crap out of my X-Wing," he said, walking away.

Two stormtroopers grabbed Picard and pulled him into the hall, past a curious Imperial Officer. A quick glance, and Picard recognized him as the one who'd been instrumental in his capture. If only he knew what Picard had just learned, he thought as they dragged him through the corridors of the Vendetta back towards his cell. He knew what awaited him there, Thrawn had been very specific about it, and Picard found it hard to resist. He deserved to die after what he'd just done, giving away the Federation's only weapon against the Borg to the man who now controlled them. What had he been thinking?!

He had been thinking about that same Federation, of course. Thrawn's threat was the greater danger of the two, it had to be or they would have been assimilated already, and while he'd made them lose their weapon he'd bought them time, and maybe that would be enough. Of course, he realized as he was pushed into his cell, he would never know would he. Well Seven, he thought, it's in your hands now.

"On your knees," the stormtrooper said, hitting him in the back of the legs and causing Picard to fall down. The trooper grabbed his neck and pulled him back up so that he was in a kneeling position on the floor. He felt the tip of the blaster rifle on the back of his head, and he closed his eyes. He heard the familiar discharge and flinched, but a few seconds revealed that he was not dead. The blaster rifle pulled away and he heard the sound of a body slump to the floor. Very slowly he turned his head and saw the other trooper. "Sit down," came the electronic voice as the other stormtrooper took a seat on one of the benches.

Slowly Picard moved on to the opposite bench, uncertain of what was going on. "I take it you're not here to kill me," he replied.

"You have a firm grasp of the obvious," the trooper replied. It was clear the voice was being scrambled somehow, but whether it was to shake the suspicion of Picard or the other Imperials was unclear.

"Who are you?" he asked.

"That's not important," the trooper said. "But what is is what I have to tell you. Thrawn's ordered your execution, which makes me think you know his little secret."

"You mean about him and the Borg."

"Good, so we're all on the same page. Listen Picard, I've got no love for the Federation, the Romulans, or any of you other Milky Wayers, but I love the Empire and I hate the Borg, so I'm going to tell you what's going on provided you try and do something about it."

"Believe me," Picard replied, "I will do everything in my power to stop Thrawn and the Borg."

"Good," the trooper said. "Thrawn's split his allegiances between the Empire and the Borg, so this might confuse you a little bit. He started helping the Borg out some time ago, when I can't be certain. He convinced them to follow his tactics, and since he had succeeded in causing such crippling damage to them over the years they allowed him to prove he could provide them with the same. That was when they attacked Species 8472; it was a test, see, one Thrawn passed. It proved that he could give the Borg everything he promised, and now he's using both the Borg and the Empire to further his own ends."

"Which are?" Picard asked.

"Total control of both galaxies. Don't you see what he's doing? Think back Picard, think what he's been doing."

Picard thought about it. What was Thrawn getting out of this? Suddenly there was a revelation. "Of course!" he said, surprised he hadn't seen it before. "It's so obvious. Thrawn's playing both sides against the middle! The Borg expand their territory, and other systems join the Empire out of fear of the Borg. Anyone who doesn't join is assimilated, so still more join his side."

"Exactly. Thrawn's territory was reduced to a very small area after all the fighting had stopped, so he needed to expand his control to build up the size of his fleet; after all, what good's an admiral without ships and people to fly them? At the rate he's now expanding, I predict that in less than a year there will be no one left in your galaxy who isn't either part of the Empire or assimilated." The trooper leaned forward. "And do you think your Federation is going to join the Empire a second time?"

"No," Picard said quietly. "Why are telling me this?"

"Because Thrawn's unpredictable. He is, after all, an alien, so he doesn't think like you and me. But aside of that, I don't know what he's got planned once the war is over. He might take apart the Empire's military and send in the Borg to assimilate everything, and that's a chance I'm not willing to take." The trooper stood up. "I'll let you go Picard, but you've got to do what I say, understand. If you don't it could be the end of what we both love."

Picard got up. It seemed he had no choice but to do what this stranger said; the alternative was the end of the Federation. "What do you want me to do?"

"First, give me your word that you'll not attack the Empire. The Borg is your enemy, not us, so focus on that problem."

He has a point, Picard thought. "All right."

"Next, you're going to have to keep some of this under wraps for now, or Starfleet might decide to start fighting us. You're going to need to get the support of some of your most trusted friends in Starfleet first, so that they can help you organize against the Borg. But last, and most importantly, you must tell everything I told you to Luke Skywalker."

"Skywalker?" Picard said with surprise. "What does he have to do with this?"

"Everything," the trooper replied. "Tell him about Thrawn, the plans, and especially tell him about Seven of Nine."

"Wait a moment," Picard said, "what about her?"

"Didn't you realize?" the trooper said. "No, I suppose you didn't. If you're gone..."

Picard realized. "Riker would send Seven to do it."

"And thanks to you, Thrawn knew what she was trying to do. Right now she's comatose in DS13's Sickbay thanks to all this." He leaned forward and poked Picard in the chest with his index finger. "You be sure to tell Skywalker that."

Picard looked down and covered his face. Oh Seven, he thought. And here I thought I was actually protecting you from the Borg. Once again the Empire had forced him into the position of hurting her to protect the Federation. He finally looked up at the trooper. "Why should Skywalker need to know about that?"

"Just tell him," the trooper said. "He'll be glad you did."

Picard wondered what that could have to do with anything. He knew how Seven felt about Luke, of course; did he have similar feelings for her? And if so, what did any of this matter to the Empire? He asked as much.

"There's no time," the trooper said, then kicked the corpse of the other trooper. "Put this on." Picard gradually got all the armor off and managed to fit into it remarkably well. The trooper kicked the body back over and shot him in the face, causing it turn black and deformed. "Say hello to Jean-luc Picard," he said as he reached down and started pulling up the body, Picard grabbing the other arm. They opened the door and dragged the body down the hall.

"What took so long?" lieutenant demanded as they came up.

"He tried to resist, sir," the trooper replied.

The lieutenant nodded. "I take it you taught him a bit of a lesson on that regard."

"Yes sir," the trooper said with a satisfied sound to his voice.

"Dispose of the body," came the reply, and Picard and the trooper hauled the body over to the chute and dropped it in, then together they walked out. Picard kept a close eye on him, trying to anticipate his movements so that they would be moving together in the uniform pattern of stormtroopers. Finally they came to a room and pushed the release, stepping inside to find it empty.

"What now?" Picard asked?

"Now," he replied, "We get you changed." He pointed to a flight suit. "Put that on."

Picard had a bit of difficulty stripping off the armor only to pull on the full body flightsuit. He put the helmet into place and there was a pop and a hiss; apparently the suit was completely self-sustaining, and surprisingly comfortably. "I've arranged for a TIE Defender to launch soon. It has a hyperdrive so you'll be able to fly it back to Federation space. Remember, find Skywalker first, tell him exactly what's going on. And be careful; I don't want to have gone to this much trouble to have your own people shoot you down."

"I don't have any experience with TIEs," Picard said. "A shuttle would be better."

"Yes, but you'd look pretty stupid going on to a shuttle in a flight suit," he replied. "And somebody's going to recognize you if you walk around without something covering your face, so you'll just have to deal with it."

Picard followed him out of the doors and through the corridors of the star destroyer until they finally reached the launch bay. As planned, a TIE Defender stood ready for launch and no one questioned Picard as he walked over to the ship and slid inside. After a short examination he managed to figure out how to get the ship started.

"Onyx 4 you are clear for launch," came the voice over the radio.

"Onyx 4, copy," Picard replied, and eased the ship through the hangar and into space. After a while he found the hyperdrive control, and the starlines appeared. He had done it; he'd escaped from an Executor-class star destroyer. But was this Thrawn's idea? Did he want Picard to think he'd escaped? It was infuriating dealing with the man, but he had to go with his instincts, and his instincts said to do what the trooper had said: find Skywalker, and then organize the fleet against the Borg.

The Blessed One removed the stormtrooper helmet. Good, she thought, Picard will be the best element to provoke Thrawn when the time comes. She had to be careful, because Thrawn was far too smart to be easily manipulated. He was the most unstable element in all of this, even moreso than Skywalker and the Borg girl, but he was just as necessary. If she was to rebuild the Empire, she'd need him to continue his plan.

By now the Borg and the Ssi-ruuk were no doubt spreading fear and chaos across the galaxy, and her people were there to take advantage of it. They'd swell the ground support for Thrawn's arrival, taking advantage of the many ISB connections she'd pried from Isard. You'll be surprised, admiral, she thought, how much I'm helping you.

Of course, it was only temporary. There was no way she could let an alien sit on the throne of the Emperor.

Pyramid 01 exited hyperspace and returned to reality, gliding through space with quiet patience. Several cubes were in the area, and on its arrival most began to move off to various points in the galaxy. The next stage of the plan was in place, and soon all would be complete. The tetrahedron vanished into the wormhole to reappear on the other side of the universe in a different time.

It felt the mind of Anansi join them again. Quickly information was exchanged. Anansi was pleased with their progress, and the Borg were satisfied with his intervention. He had indeed proven himself a perfect ally for the Borg. Together, what could possibly stand against them?

Go To Part XXII
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