Worlds Without End, Part XXVI

Garak had the panel off the wall of his cell and was analyzing the circuitry inside when Bossk walked in. Garak turned and gave him a smile and a nod. "Pleasure to make your acquaintance."

"Get away from there," Bossk growled. Given his strong saurian resemblance, "growled" took on a new meaning.

Garak looked at the panel, then back at Bossk. "Hmm... no." And returned to work. Bossk pointed the blaster at him, and repeated the phrase with even more menace in his tone. "The transparisteele wall is going to stop your shot from ever reaching me, so I don't know what you expect to accomplish."

Bossk let out a growl that even the universal translator could only shrug at. He activated the door release and stepped inside. "Move aside," he ordered.

"Now you're thinking," Garak said as he complied. "A threat's actually useful if you can back it up."

"On your knees," Bossk rumbled. "Hands behind your head." Garak complied. Bossk pulled a pair of binders from his belt and slowly circled around Garak, blaster pointed at his head. He wrapped the binder around one wrist and gave it a yank; Garak moved like the strike of a cobra. His other hand shot up and drove a needle straight into Bossk's eye. The pain was a horrible distraction, and Garak pressed it, battering the Trandoshan until the blaster came free. Garak dropped snatched it up, and rolled out of reach. The entire event had taken less than five seconds.

"Not amateurish," Garak said, blaster trained on Bossk, "but not exactly impressive. I know I'm worth more alive than dead, but is it worth the calculated risk when dealing with a dangerous individual?" He made a noise of disappointment. "You should have stunned me into unconsciousness and then put the binders on, but you didn't want to risk another shot so soon and accidentally kill me. I'm afraid that's going to cost you far more than Imperial credits." He switched the blaster over to stun and zapped Bossk in the chest.

Delric Taar looked over the information in the datafile. It wasn't terribly helpful, unfortunately. His efforts to find a way to contact the Tsunkatse people to discuss the Federation officers' release was going nowhere, with one diplomatic wall after another going up. His hatred for bureaucracy was growing, as well as the politics that required him to waste time on this rather than getting back to his real work of smashing the Borg menace.

The report from the officers at one of the arenas had some leads. The fights were transferred there by the same holographic signals the Imperials had been tapping into to watch the fights. Their efforts to trace them back were unsuccessful so far, but all that meant was that they needed to devote more people to the job. Put some personnel at every arena, and all that information should point a nice big arrow to wherever that transmission was coming from. Then they could move in, get them out, and get down to business.

Taar had watched the transmission for the latest Borg fight as well. He'd expected as much. Take them out of the Collective and nothing changed. They weren't people, just things... dangerous things too, from the look of it. Thrawn had given his instructions, so Taar wouldn't think about any accidents happening to her, but he knew the galaxy would probably be much better off if she met an untimely end.

Bossk's remaining eye opened, swept the room, and focused on Garak, reflecting unfettered hostility. "Ah, welcome back," Garak said, seated on a stool nearby. Bossk looked down; he'd been stripped and lashed solidly to the workbench. "Let me point out a few pertinent facts, Mr. Bossk," Garak said. "You're a dangerous man; the difference between you and I is that I recognize that fact in you, so I will always err on the side of caution. Thus, today you are going to die. Anything else is an unnecessary risk. Second, after seven years of working as a tailor I'm very good with needles, as you've learned. Third, since we're in your shop I also have access to all kinds of other means of persuasion. So, the question you've got to ask yourself is how much you want to suffer before you die?" Bossk hissed at him. "Is that supposed to intimidate me? Impress me?" Garak smiled and shook his head. "I'm the head of the Obsidian Order, Mr. Bossk; neither of those has any effect on me." Carefully, in full view of Bossk's one good eye, Garak picked up a long needle with a pair of pliers, then slowly played them across a plasma torch. His eyes flicked up to Bossk, and his smile deepened. "Pride before pain... some would find that heroic, but I see it for the stupidity it is. You can surrender or make me break you, but the result is inevitable."

Bossk snarled at him. "I will tell you what I know," he spat.

"Good," Garak said setting down the plasma torch. "Let's start with your ship."

The Rebel base's main conference room was filled with high-ranking officers from Cardassia and Romulus. The New Alliance was planning its first major assault against the Empire, and it was agreed that a thorough understanding of their enemy was going to be the key to victory. Luke Skywalker sat in the back of the room while Tycho Celchu took center stage. Wedge was head of fighter tactics but had wisely passed things over to Tycho for this meeting. As a former Imperial pilot, Tycho could give a very solid briefing and answer questions that would have been beyond Wedge's own experiences.

Tycho was all business, he got down to laying out the strengths and weaknesses of the Imperator. There was an interruption by a Romulan officer. "We know all this," he said with mild annoyance. "What's your point?"

"That you're outgunned and outclassed," Tycho said frankly. "So you're going to have to change your strategy if you want to win this war."

"We are."

"With all due respect," Tycho said, "if that were true I wouldn't be here."

A very uncomfortable silence followed. "Commander Celchu is correct," Admiral Riklin eventually said. "I suggest we all listen to him." He stared at the officer who had spoken up for a short while, then turned back to Tycho. "Please continue."

Tycho laid out further details about means of attacks. Luke nodded; he was holding up rather well under the weight of all this brass. "We have word there are two Imperators patrolling in this system," Tycho said, indicating the location on the holographic star map. "They're accompanied by three K't'inga and two Vor'chas. This will be our first target; we'll be employing eight Galors, ten D'deridex, two squadrons of X-wings, a squadron of B-wings, and twenty T'lix." There was a great deal of talk at the last point. "Admiral," Tycho said to Riklin, "perhaps you'd like to explain."

Riklin arose and came to the front. "We've retrofitted several shuttles with improved sub-light engines while increasing power to disruptors and torpedo capacity. The T'lix is unfortunately no longer able to achieve warp, although with the influx of hyperdrive technology that is hardly a need for concern." A diagram appeared. "They will attach to a D'deridex using weak gravitational clamps to enter and leave battle."

"These are to counteract the Imperial fighters, sir?" a Romulan officer asked.

"No, that's what our fighter squadrons will be for. The T'lix will be charged with targeting the sensor domes to limit the Imperials' ability to fight us. After that, they'll go after targets of opportunity."

"But maneuverability is key," Tycho said. "You won't be able to survive any hits from the turbolasers."

Riklin laid out more of the mission details as Leia came in. "Luke," she whispered, "we need to talk." Luke got up and slipped out of the room. "We've got a dangerous but potentially invaluable opportunity," she explained. "I don't know if you heard, but the Death Star has been completed and is in this galaxy."

"Yeah, I heard," Luke said grimly. Like many he'd been wondering if it was a fatal mistake in not taking it down when there was an opportunity.

"One of our agents has access to the plans for the new Death Star," Leia said. "But the Empire is being very careful; they can't get them to us because of how tightly their personnel are being watched here in the Milky Way."

"Can't someone back home find them?" Luke asked.

"For all we know they have it," Leia said. "But we have no way of getting there to find out, not with the wormhole being so heavily guarded. With the Death Star here, we need to do whatever we have to to get those plans."

"I understand," Luke said. "What's the plan?"

"The Empire has suddenly taken an interest in this thing called Tsunkatse," Leia said. "This came down from Thrawn himself, so whatever it is is important. With all this traffic -sending Imperial forces all around the sector- they should be able to sneak the plans into one of the arenas... but there's still a chance of being caught."

"You want me to get the plans," Luke said.

"It's very dangerous," she said nervously. "But you know how important those plans could be for us. You are the best hope we have of getting the plans and getting out of there alive."

"I'll do it," he said without hesitation.

"Luke, think carefully," Leia said. "I'm not overplaying this... Thrawn is very clever, this may be a trap."

"Maybe, but the bait is worth it," Luke said. "Without the plans for the last one, we'd never have lasted this long. I'll go."

Leia embraced him. "Be careful."

"Of course," Luke said. "When is it going down?"

"Two days," Leia said. "We picked a match that's going to be as full of people as possible, to make it easier for you two to slip in and out." She looked at a datapad. "It's a battle to the death between a Wookiee and a Borg."

"Sounds like fun," Luke said dryly. "I guess I better hope I'm not in a match of my own against a few hundred stormtroopers."

The Hound's Tooth settled onto a Romulan landing pad; a small battalion of troops was waiting for it. Weapons were held at the ready as the ramp opened. Garak cautiously walked down, hands in plain sight. A squad broke off and met him, scanning him. The corporal nodded; "He checks out, sir."

The Romulan general stepped forward. "You've taken a hell of a risk, Mr. Garak," he said sternly.

"My apologies," Garak said. "I rather thought the war was our top-most priority." He held out a data chip. "On here you'll find a list of Federation, Imperial, and Klingon ship deployments across the area."

The Romulan general took it with suspicion. "Where did you get this?"

"I created it, of course," Garak said. "This is a bounty hunter ship hired by the Empire; they're not going to be surprised that it's flying around the area." He smiled, but it had no humor in it. "Things are dire, I'm afraid; that's why I came here instead of Cardassia. The Federation and the Empire are gearing up for an attack on Cardassia Prime itself. We have to get this information to the New Alliance personnel as quickly as possible. I'd have taken it there myself, but I didn't want to risk the chance the Imperials were tracking this ship."

The general nodded grimly. "We have a few hyperdive-equipped transports," he said. "You'll be on one within the hour."

"Thank you general."

"Thank you, Mr. Garak," the general said. "This knowledge will be invaluable."

"I only hope it's enough to spare Cardassia from being razed again," Garak said. "If it is, I don't know if we can rebuild it again.

Picard sat down at the head of the meeting table, his anxiety visible to the crew. He had grown so tired of these briefings, so tired of being the bearer of sad news. He hoped, hoped with all his heart, that this war would end quickly. Unfortunately, that seemed less likely now than ever. "At approximately 1500 hours yesterday an Imperial-Klingon force was moving on routine patrol through Sector 592 when it was attacked and destroyed. The attacking fleet consisted of Romulans, Cardassians, and a group of ships identified by the Imperial ships as being 'rebels.'"

Riker's eyes widened. "So we've confirmed the Rebellion's in our galaxy now?"

Picard nodded. "It looks that way. The fleet had the Imperials and Klingons hopelessly outnumbered and destroyed them all. This, as you are aware, marks the first clear victory for the Romulans in this war. While the rebels' ships did not play a large part in this attack, the battle showed a completely new set of tactics being used, which suggests that they have briefed their new friends in Imperial weaknesses." He sighed. "The Federation has declared that a state of war exists between the United Federation of Planets and the Rebel Alliance."

There were several shocked looks around the room. "What about the Prime Directive?" Troi asked. "We can't become involved with an internal group engaged in open revolt against another a government, even one of our allies."

"That fact was considered, but Ambassador Talva was apparently very convincing." It pained him greatly to have to be delivering such news; the Prime Directive wasn't something that could be ignored when it becomes inconvenient, it was the heart of their principles... and every day, it seemed those principles were becoming less and less important. "Regardless, we must be prepared for a revitalized enemy, one who may be crossing our borders at any moment. We'll be remaining here at Earth to have further modifications made to the Enterprise. While we're here, Data, Admiral Parks has requested that you brief the Imperials on the known current level of both Romulan and Cardassian technology."

Data looked slightly puzzled. "Captain, there are no doubt others in Starfleet who have information that is far more up to date than I possess."

"Admiral Parks says that the Empire wants you to do it. You'll be given access to the latest intelligence data for your briefing; but your real value is sheer volume of information. It is felt that you are the most suited for this mission."

Data nodded. "Aye sir. Since I have no other duties at the moment, it would be a logical allocation of Federation resources." There was no bitterness in his tone, but Picard wondered if that was because he'd kept his emotion chip off.

As the crew filed out Picard motioned to Riker, who with a curious look returned to his seat. Picard sighed and leaned his forehead against his folded hands, his eyes closed almost as if in prayer. His muffled voice reached his first officer's bewildered ears. "How are the simulations going?"

"Fine, sir. Everyone seems to be in peak performance." There was quiet. "Is this about Seven of Nine, sir?"

"No," Picard said. "How has your performance been, Will?" Picard asked slowly.

Riker didn't know quite how to reply. "I'm not sure I understand. Has there been a problem, sir?"

Picard finally met Riker's gaze. "With you, no. With the universe, most definitely a yes." He stood up and walked to the window, looking out at the stars. "I've been thinking, Will. There's a bold new future on the horizon, if we can get to it. Unfortunately, there's a nasty war that stands between here and there. A war built on mistakes and prejudices of the past. And of old men."

"Sir?"

Picard turned to face him, his face deadly serious. "I've considered stepping down, Will. Turning this war over to those with the strength to see it through." He walked slowly around the table, almost thinking aloud. "There's been too much bloodshed. Too many good officers, men and women that I've had to watch die. Too much pointless destruction." He stopped, his face fixed with a look of determination. "Next to the Borg invasion, I don't think the Federation has ever been as threatened as it is right now. We are at the heart of a conflict involving two galaxies, Will, and it's time for those with the will to see us through to step up."

Riker rose to his feet and met Picard's gaze. "Sir, I think there is no one to better lead us than the man who has stood in command of a ship called Enterprise for the past ten years." He smiled a little. "You may be old, but with that age comes wisdom and experience, which is what we'll need to pull through."

"The mind may be equipped," Picard replied, "but the spirit isn't, not any more. Battle isn't just about tactics and weaponry; it's about passion and gut instinct, and I'm afraid that I've been in rather short supply of both of late." He sighed. "The things that weigh on my mind, Will, like Data..."

Riker filled in the blanks. "You leave, I become captain, Data gets promoted to first officer." He shook his head. "Captain, what happened with Data was a travesty, but leaving the Enterprise over it isn't going to truly solve anything."

"I set him up to fall, Will," Picard said. "And there's no soft place for him to land. He's too decent a person to take Seven's place, but-"

"Jean-luc," Riker said, "this isn't your fault."

"I know, but it's just one more thing that weighs on my mind, Will," Picard said.

"Give this some time," Riker said. "Don't rush into anything."

"I've thought about it a great deal, Will," Picard said.

"Give it a little more," Riker said. "Things are changing... maybe it'll come sooner than you think."

"Possibly... I'm just afraid of what that change will be."

Go To Part XXVII
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