DP Tool Club 15/CD_ASCQ_15_070894.iso/vrac/bttlages.zip/BTTLAGES.TXT

Text File | 1994-06-15 | 162KB | 3,018 lines

BattleOfTheAges.zip

Copyright 1994 by Adam C. Stacey
Any infringement on preexisting copyrights is unintentional
Please feel free to share with your friends, but this document is
not to be sold.  The author can be reached at Michigan State
University from 1992 through 1996 at [e-mail].
This must accompany any distributions of this story.  Enjoy!
-----------------------------------------------------------------
                 STAR TREK: THE NEXT GENERATION

                             TREK 7

                       BATTLE OF THE AGES


                        by Adam C. Stacey



Captains Log: Stardate 50010.3

After completing her second five year
mission, the Enterprise is returning
home to Earth for refit and crew
reassignment.  I have recommended
promotions for my entire bridge crew and
have asked Starfleet to retain my command
officers for her next tour of duty.  I am
also very eager to report that my first
officer has accepted a long overdue
promotion and command of an Alaska class
heavy cruiser.  Joining him will be
another former member of my crew,
Lt. Wesley Crusher who has completed
his tour at Starfleet Academy and
graduated with honors.


     The USS Enterprise, pride of the Federation of Planets and
flagship of the Starfleet returns home to Earth for a proper
heroes' welcome.  The sleek Galaxy class starship glides into
Earth Spacedock for a well deserved intermission of duty.  Crowds
line the windows to welcome back the crew who saved the
Federation once again on her last mission.
     "Well, Number One, . . . I'm sorry Will, Captain," corrected
Picard, "it appears that quite a crowd has turned out to welcome
us home."
     "Yes sir, and no apologies necessary, I'll always be your
Number One," replied Riker.
     A thoughtful glance is exchanged between the two officers
that doesn't last long enough for anyone else to notice, except
of course for Deanna Troi.  "Do you know where you'll be heading
to on your first mission," said Counsellor Deanna Troi.  Her
exterior was one of complete sincerity and encouragement for the
new captain but deep down she was feeling intense sorrow for
their eminent separation, a goodbye she wished she would never
have to say again.
     "We're to be sent out to the Beta Quadrant.  Starfleet is
opening up a whole new area of space to be explored and we're
going to spearhead the effort,"  Will replied proudly.  "I guess
they want the best for this mission."
     "Well there going to get it," said Picard "Starfleet
couldn't have made a finer choice, and once again,
congratulations Captain on your long overdue promotion.  You
deserve this Will."
     "Thank you, sir.  I'm sorry to leave this ship, but I
wouldn't trade anything for my time on the Enterprise or the
honor of serving under you," complimented Riker.
     "Well," Picard said feeling a little embarassed.  "I think
its about time we completed this maneuver.  Number One, would you
do the honors one last time."
     "Thank you, sir.  Mr. Data maneuvering thrusters starboard,
stand by on moorings."
     "Aye, sir."  said Lt. Cmdr. Data.  "Maneuvering thrusters on
the starboard side, moorings activated and umbilical support
systems standing bye."
     "Full stop, lock tractor beams on the docking ring and bring
it along side."
     "Tractor beams activated, docking ring is secured."  Data
swiveled around in his seat.  "We have completed docking
maneuver."
     "Thank you, Mr. Data,"  Picard replied  "Mr. Worf, open a
channel, intraship communication."
     "Channel open, sir," replied the Klingon warrior.
     "This is the captain," starts Picard, "We have officially
ended this vessel's second five year mission.  Some of you won't
be returning and will be moving onto other ships.  But I consider
it a privilege and a pleasure to have served with each and every
one of you, the best damned crew in the fleet, and the finest
vessel in the Federation!"
     Slowly, the crew on the bridge begins to applaud and cheers
are heard all throughout the ship for acknowledgement by the
captain.


     "Move it Torm, they're gaining on us!"
     "I'm going as fast as I can, Vlem," retorted Torm.  "We
should be at the rendezvous any minute now!"
     The mercenary ship sped through space followed closely by
two Federation starships.  The two Nebula class ships were
closing rapidly on the mercenary vessel in pursuit of their lost
cargo.  The captain of the lead vessel was boiling with anger and
anticipation at getting his hands on these pirate scum.
Enfuriated that these pirates would have the gaul to raid this
deep in Federation territory and expect to get away with it after
what they stole.
     "Mr. Ortega, energize phasers and stand by on photon
torpedoes," ordered Captain Shale "I want that ship disabled and
her cargo undamaged, is that clear"
     "Yes sir," replied the young ensign, not understanding the
depth of his captain's anger.  Whatever that cargo was, it must
be pretty valuable to unnerve Captain Shale that much.
     Captain Shale waited eagerly for his revenge.  In another
moment he would seek retribution on those who would dare defile a
galactic treasure.
     "Mr. Ortega, lock phasers on her engines and . . ."
     "Sir," interrupted his Ops officer "Sensor distortion at 319
mark 253."
     "Visual," barked the Captain, furious at something delaying
his revenge.
     On the view screen, space seemed to shiver and bend as an
all to familiar cloaking field deactivated.  But this disortion
was monstrous, too large for a single cloaked vessel.  A fleet of
warships then?  Had the Romulans finally decided to take over the
Federation as they had promised more than once?  But his answer
came too quickly for anymore thoughts and was more horrible than
anything he could have possibly dreamed of.
     Off the port bow, a familiar cubic vessel decloaked.
Without a moments hesitation, a Klingon-Borg warrior appeared on
the viewscreen, and if he wasn't mistaken, looked mean.
     "Federation vessels,"  began the Borg drone "leave or be
destroyed!"
     "I didn't know they possessed cloaking technology," muttered
the petrified Captain.  He had never met a Borg before, but he
knew all about them and would have hoped he would never meet one.
     "We have adapted!"  Suddenly a beam of pinpoint energy
emitted from the Borg ship.
     The Maelstrom rocked under the attack and shook violently.
     "Damage report," barked the captain.
     "Shields down 60 percent,"  replied the tactical officer,
"Major damage on all decks."  The ship rocked again as another
beam impacted on the shields.
     "Shields gone sir, hull breach on Decks 23-31."
     "Fire all weapons," shouted Shale in desparation.
     "Weapons offline sir, engineering reports two minutes before
cricuit pathways can be rerouted,"  replied Lt. Valdez.
     "We don't have a few minutes," screamed Shale "Engineering,
I want weapons online immediately!"
     "Mr. Ortega come about to 517 mark 012.  Keep that mercenary
ship in between us and the Borg."
     "Sir," replied the ensign, "The mercenary vessel is inside
the Borg's magnetic shielding!  The Borg ship appears to be
protecting it."
     "My God, they've made a bargain with the Borg, a bargain
that could destroy the Federation,"  the captain said in
disbelief.
     The Borg ship fired once more and the USS Maelstrom erupted
in a tremendous explosion.
     The Reliant III didn't have a chance either as the Borg ship
slowly cut it in two with a cutter beam of emmense power.
Without pausing for an instant after the destruction it had
wrought, the Borg ship next turned to the mercenaries.
     "Captain Vlem, you have the cargo we seek," spoke the Borg
in an unemotional tone.
     "Yes, we do.  Thank you for dealing with our pursuers," said
Vlem in her friendliest tone.  She knew what these beings were
capable of and she did not want anything to go wrong with this
deal.
     "Gratitude is irrelevant," muttered the borgified Klingon
"We will transport your cargo aboard now."
     "Transport complete," acknowledged Torm.
     "Now if you would reciprocate we can conclude this bargain,"
stated Vlem.
     "Bargaining is irrelevant.  We have what we want."
     "You can't back out of your end,"  shouted Vlem fearing she
had lost control of the situation, "We had a deal!  I want what's
coming to me!"  She realized her verbal error only a moment too
late.
     "You are irrelevant," commented the Borg in his most manner
of fact tone.  A bright beam of light erupted from the Borg
vessel and in another instant the mercenary vessel was gone.


     Like a sparkling gem in space, Earth Spacedock floated high
above her motherworld.  Inside was the usual chaos of ship
traffic in this all too busy spaceport.  Off to one side, a ship
hung in the zero gravity of space, patiently awaiting the arrival
of its new master.
     Captain William T. Riker stepped aboard his new command the
USS Alaska for the first time.  Fitting that he would be given
command of a ship named after the only place he could have called
home in his turbulent youth.  The Alaska was an older ship, but
only in name.  She had been totally renovated for her new tour of
duty.  The Galaxy class had never taken off like expected and to
date there were only a handful in service.  Its bulk was too
costly for its duties and Starfleet had decided to downsize its
top of the line starships with the Alaska spearheading this
project.  Ironic that the new workhorse of the fleet was of an
older model once containing the USS Enterprise-C, the current
Enterprise's predecessor.
     Riker exited the turbolift and stepped on his bridge.
Briskly stepping down to the lower tier he approached his seat.
Riker paused for a moment and stared at the center seat.  For
years he had patiently waited for his turn to sit in the
captain's chair.  All his life he had wanted to command a
starship, until he served aboard the Enterprise.  The flagship of
the Federation held a special place in his heart and had
compelled him to delay his goals to remain a part of her crew.
After warding off repeated attempts by Starfleet to promote him
off the Enterprise and struggling with a misplaced fear of the
big chair, he had finally decided it was time to take the next
step.  He slowly sat down and firmly attached himself to its
cushions.  Damn it felt good, he thought.  As he glanced around
at his command crew he spotted a familiar face and welcomed it
with a smile.
     "Its good to see you sit there sir,"  said Lt. Wesley
Crusher manning the helm station.
     "Thank you, Wes," replied Riker, "and a belated
congratulations on your commencement.  Top of the class I
understand."
     The not so green lieutenant turned several shades of red at
that compliment.  He had always looked up to Riker as he was
growing up and sought advice from him frequently.  Although
Captain Picard was his idol,  it had been Riker who had filled in
for the fatherly aspect of his growing up while he had served
aboard the Enterprise and he had never forgot that fact.  That
was why he had requested to serve with him when he had his pick
of assignments after graduation.
     "Captain, incoming transmission from Starfleet Command,
priority one," announced Lt. Narrandda, chief tactical officer.
     "On screen," ordered Riker.
     Admiral Decker's image appeared on the main viewscreen.
     "Captain Riker, sorry to interrupt your first day on the job
but we have an urgent situation near the Romulan Neutral Zone."
     "The Romulans, sir.  I thought we had heard the last of them
for a while after the recent incident at Moraka V."
     "I think we have too Captain," continued the Admiral, "and
for a good reason, its not the Romulans."  Decker paused for a
moment, "Will, its the Borg."

     "About two weeks ago two Federation starships encountered
the Borg out near the Romulan Neutral Zone.  Both vessels were
destroyed, all hands lost," remarked the Admiral gravely.
     "Could the Borg be attempting to assimilate the Romulans,
Admiral?" questioned Riker.
     "We don't think so," said Admiral Decker whose image was
being projected in the main briefing room.  "Captain Shale was
pursuing a mercenary craft suspected of stealing highly sensitive
Federation material from a research facility.  The mercenaries
were making a run for the Neutral Zone when they were overtaken
by the Maelstrom, that's when it starts to get strange.  A Borg
vessel reportedly decloaked and promptly destroyed the two ships.
This information is sketchy but I'm taking it at face value.  We
can't afford to underestimate this new development."
     The Borg with cloaking technology, thought Riker.  That was
something to take seriously.  It meant that the Borg had
encountered either Klingon or Romulan technology and who knew
where else they could have infiltrated undetected with this new
capability.
     "Admiral," Will began cautiously, "I don't understand?  Did
the mercenaries fall into the same trap that Captain Shale did or
was there some connection?"
     "Unfortunately that's exactly what appeared to happen.  The
Borg vessel allowed the mercenary entrance inside its shielding
and defended it until the danger to its safety had passed.  This
means that the Borg were after this cargo from the very
beginning.  If they had knowledge of the existence of it, then
they have knowledge of other secrets more vital to the defense of
the Federation."
     "Could this have come from their interaction with Locutus,"
asked Riker painfully.  He had never forgotten the horror Captain
Picard had experienced when he was captured by the Borg or the
pain he still carried with him in aiding in the destruction of
more than forty Federation starships and their crews.
     "No, Captain Picard had no knowledge of this and, in fact,
only a handful know of its existence in the entire Federation,"
replied the Admiral.
     "Admiral, what's going on.  You seem extremely resistant to
tell me anything about the cargo I assume you will order me to
recover.  What could the Borg have gotten that could possibly be
that valuable?"
     Admiral Decker paused a moment in thought.  Torn by the debt
he felt to a man that had helped his great grandfather and also
aided in the downfall of his grandfather.  "The cryogenically
frozen body of one of the greatest military leaders the galaxy
has ever known and the most outstanding starship captain in
history, James Kirk."



     Jim awoke in an all too familiar place.  "Bones?" questioned
the captain, "what am I doing here?"
     "You have just suffered a moderate concussion and you will
do what the doctor tells you, understand?" replied the country
surgeon in his Southern drawl.
     "Yes, sir," mimicked Kirk.  Funny, he hadn't remembered
suffering any concussion, but of course there was liable to be a
temporary memory loss.
     "Bones, what's going on here, everything seems hazy," began
the bewildered Starfleet officer.  "Last I remeber I was sitting
in my apartment planning my boating trip to the Samoas."
     McCoy put down the instrument he was using.  "Jim, that was
two weeks ago.  We are now at war with the Romulans.  Starfleet
recalled us to active duty and gave us back the Enterprise before
she could be decommisioned after they put her on display in
Spacedock."
     "The Romulans, when, how?" asked Jim, more than slightly
shook up.
     "The Romulans attacked a Klingon outpost along the Neutral
Zone.  Evidently they thought the Klingons were weakened by the
Praxis incident and the peace conference on Khittomer and saw it
as their best chance in years to expand their domain.  The
Federation went to the assistance of the Klingons and two
starships were destroyed in the ensuing battle.  The Excelsior
was transporting a delegation to Kronus to formalize an alliance
and try to seek a peaceful resolve to the crisis.  They were
ambushed on their way to Kronus.  Obviously the Romulans didn't
care for the idea of a Klingon-Federation alliance.  All hands
were lost," finished McCoy with a sympathy deeper than he had
ever seen in his face.
     Shook up over the death of Sulu, a shocking thought creapt
into Kirk's mind and he asked a question that he didn't want
answered.
     "Spock?"
     McCoy took a deep breath, trying to suppress the pain he was
feeling inside.  "Spock was on board the Excelsior as the
Federation's chief negotiator."
     A moment of silence followed that statement that seemed to
last an eternity.  Spock dead, thought Kirk.  He just couldn't
believe it.  After all they've been through for his best friend
to die far away with nothing he could do about it.  And the worst
part, Kirk began with the stirrings of hatred boiling up through
his body, was that he couldn't remember any of it!
     "Bones," asked Kirk, his voice edged with determination from
the growing hatred swelling up inside of him, "my concussion."
     "We were engaged with the Romulans near the Neutral Zone.
They've broken through the lines and are heading for Earth."
     "Then we've got to stop them," declared Kirk, "one way or
the other they will be stopped!"  And I will have my revenge,
Kirk mused privately.



Captains Log: Stardate 50010.9

With the Enterprise undergoing refit,
the Alaska has been given her first
mission.  We are to proceed to the
Romulan Neutral Zone with all due haste,
this includes a temporary relaxation
of the Warp 5 speed limit that has been
in effect for the last four years.  Our
mission will be to seek out and engage
the Borg, and if possible, recover the
stolen Federation property that is
considered vital to the defense of our
civilization.

Captains Personal Log: Stardate 50010.91

I am uneasy about my first mission as
captain of this vessel.  I have been
ordered to seek out a man whom I have
idolized my whole life and who provided
me with the drive and ambition to become
a starship captain.  Most likely it will
not be the same man, but a half human
half machine-like entity with no concept
of individuality or self, but this does
not alleviate my concerns.  How can I
defeat a ghost from the past?  How can I
confront and possibly destroy the very man
who has shaped my life more than anyone
else?

     "Sir, transporter room reports that the last crew member has
been brought aboard," reported Lt. Narrandda.  "Sir, its your
executive officer, Commander Solek."
     "Very well, have him report to the bridge immediately.  Lt.
Crusher, plot a course for the Romulan Neutral Zone, warp 7."
     Moments later, a stoic Vulcan officer emerged from the
turbolift and walked briskly down to the command deck.
"Commander Solek, reporting for duty, sir,"  the new first
officer uttered in a voice completely devoid of emotion.
     "Will you accompany me to the briefing room please,
Commander."  The two matched each other's strides and exited off
the bridge.
     "Was it my imagination or did the temperature drop ten
degrees when he came on board?"  remarked the ensign manning ops
presently, to Wesley.
     "Do you have a problem with our new first officer, Ensign
Shepard," said Lt. Krell, the ships current exchange officer and
chief ops officer, also second in command.
     "No, sir!"  barked the young ensign in his most subordinate
tone of voice.
     "Good, I'd hate to think there was any bigotry or threat to
the chain of command that I would have to deal with personally!"
     "Yes, sir!  Understood, sir!"
     "Excellent, carry on."
     "Aye, sir!" the young ensign snapped and looked attentively
towards his console.
     Great, thought Wesley, another Klingon ready to jump down
his case.  He was glad the axe had fallen on Ensign Shepard
instead of himself.  He still hadn't forgotten what serving under
Worf's brother Kern had been like.

     "Commander Solek, I understand you had a tutelege under
Ambassador Spock for a time," exclaimed Riker.
     "Yes, sir.  For 2.3 years I was on the ambassador's staff
and served as his liason officer to Federation headquarters,"
answered Solek.
     "The reasons for your departure from the ambassador's
service are vague, Commander.  Would you care to enlighten me
further," began Riker cautiously.
     "My reasons were due to a personal conflict over policy,
sir,"  answered the Vulcan again, not revealing anymore than he
cared to.
     "Would you care to elaborate that last remark, Commander,
and give me a detailed answer," said Riker in his 'this is more
of an order than a request' voice.
     "I disagreed," began Solek, "with Ambassador Spock's efforts
at reunification with the Romulan Star Empire."
     Aha, he noted a trace of bitterness in his reply.  Who
needed a counselor with empathic abilities.  Unfortunately he
did, but for more personal reasons.
     "You don't care for the Romulans do you, Solek."  Riker shot
back, adding further insult with the use of his Vulcan officer's
name.
     "I don't believe that much can come of a continued dialogue
with the particular form of government they now employ."
     That was a straight forward answer.  A disagreement with a
totalitarian system of government was a legitimate excuse for
harboring ill feelings towards another people.  Too bad he didn't
buy it though.  He had to admit that Solek was doing his best to
hide his personal feelings of hatred towards the Romulans, even
for a Vulcan.  No matter, it was obvious that Solek wasn't going
to reveal anything he didn't want to.
     "Thank you, Commander.  That will be all.  Assume your duty
station after you've had time to move in."
     "Yes, sir.  I am prepared to take my station immediately."
     "Very well, dismissed."  Yes, thought Riker.  He would have
to find out the mystery behind this deep resentment a man capable
of controlling his emotions was harboring.
     Starfleet sure had some nerve in assigning him a Vulcan
first officer who hated Romulans on a mission that would take
them dangerously close to the Romulan Neutral Zone.  But then
again, Starfleet had assigned him most of his command crew.
Almost everyone he had requested had either been unavailable or
deemed inappropriate.  Only Lt. Crusher and his chief engineer
had been authorized to serve on the Alaska.  He wondered if
Starfleet was getting even for making their precious little plans
hellish after all these years.
     Repeatedly, Starfleet had offered Will the command seat in
hopes that there most promising officer would accept a promotion.
After the Borg incident, Riker had been commended and displayed
as a model officer with intense loyalty for his captain,
intentionally delaying his promotion to serve under him.  Then
had come his disobedience to Captain Jelico and his part in the
phased-cloaking device conspiracy.  After these black marks
appeared on his record, Starfleet looked foolish for admonishing
lavish praises on a disobedient officer out for his own best
interests.  When the time came for a reevaluation of his career
and Riker unexpectedly accepted the promotion to Captain,
Starfleet was once again sitting with mud in its face.  Perhaps
this was its way of getting revenge on Will, and he wondered
sometimes if he didn't deserve it.
     Riker activated his comm badge, "Mr. Orleans, how much speed
can you give me for the duration of this trip?" questioned the
captain.
     "I think I can hold her at warp 7.4, but I wouldn't push her
anymore.  We've barely finished running tests on her engines.
After all, she's just completed a major overhaul of all of her
onboard systems," reminded the chief engineer.
     "You don't need to remind me of that fact, Gabe.  I'm well
aware of the condition Starfleet sent us out in."
     "You almost get the feeling that Starfleet wants us to fail,
don't you think Will," addressed the engineer commonly.
     That was allright, thought Will, seeing how that was one of
the reasons he wanted this man as his chief engineer in the first
place.  Commander Gabriel Orleans was the head of engineering on
the USS Hood, the vessel he had served on before he had gotten
the Enterprise.  He had established a friendship with this man
ever since his Academy days when Gabe, as he often called him,
was an instructor.  Orleans had tamed Will's wild impetuousness
and necessity to prove something to the father that had abandoned
him and Will had rekindled in the older man the sense of awe and
adventure that lay out amongst the stars, a feeling he had
forgotten which was how he had ended up a lt. commander teaching
at the academy, with his career going nowhere.  The two had grown
together and now Gabriel was one of the most respected
engineering minds in Starfleet and Will was a starship captain.
They had indeed come along way from their days at the Academy.
     "Right now, I wouldn't put anything past Starfleet," said
Will in disgust, "Riker out."
     It seemed the gods were against him.  What else could
possibly go wrong on this mission?


     Captain Picard paced nervously in his ready room, waiting
for his ship to be as ready as he was.  It wasn't often that he
had to wait for the Enterprise to be ready for action, most often
it was the reverse.  Starfleet had just issued them priority one
orders, a situation with the Borg was imminent and Starfleet's
most experienced captain with this lethal foe wasn't able to do
anything but wait.  The Enterprise's engines had been shut down
along with most of her engineering computer systems in
preparation for a long overdue overhaul and refit.  It would
still be several hours, possibly the rest of the day before
everything could be back up and running.  They were already past
the point of no return when their orders came through, so new
dilithium crystals had to be installed and the refit finished at
an accelerated pace.  So there was nothing to do but sit and
wait.  Inevitably a more horrible situation occured to alleviate
the problem, Picard began to contemplate what he would do when he
encountered the Borg.
     He had never fully recovered from his experiences with these
half-human automotons.  At one point in time, he thought he had
discovered the means of ridding this long time enemy, but that
did not happen.  The Borg soldier that they had captured had
recognized his individuality and became a person known as Hugh.
Upon his return to the collective, Picard thought that they had
another chance to curb the aggressiveness of their enemy, but
that to had fallen through.  After their encounter with Picard,
the Borg had built in redundant systems and separate collectives
working together on a much higher level.  This would prevent what
had happened to the Borg vessel that had attempted to assimilate
the planet Earth from spreading throughout the Borg collective.
Therefore when the Borg unit known as Hugh transmitted his sense
of individuality, it had infected only a small portion of the
Borg uni-mind before the Borg contained the damage.  The losses
were insignificant and the Borg had isolated themselves from
their deviant brothers.  Now Picard was forced to face the same
Borg who were responsible for his capture nearly six years ago,
and he wasn't sure how he would react.


     "Approaching Romulan Neutral Zone," reported Wesley Crusher.
     "Thank you, Mr. Crusher," responded Riker.  "Begin maximum
range sensor scan, look for anything resembling Borg technology.
     "Yes sir, beginning scan," reported Commander Solek from his
position at the science station.
     "Lieutenant Krell, any signs of Romulans in the area,"
questioned the captain.
     "No sir, no signs of Romulan activity," replied the Klingon,
"however, they could be cloaked and invisible to our scans."
     "Keep a sharp eye out, they still exhibit residual plasma
particles if they've been cloaked for a long period of time."
     "Yes sir," replied Krell, slightly annoyed that the captain
had had to remind him of that obvious fact.  He had probably
served more time engaging the Romulans than all of these humans
combined.
     "Anything Commander?" questioned Will.
     "Nothing to report so far sir, it seems that the immediate
vicinity is devoid of Borg activity," reported Solek in his
monotone voice.
     "Very well, take us closer to the Zone, Mr. Crusher,"
ordered the captain, "nice and slow.  We don't want to alarm our
Romulan friends."
     "Hmmph," grumped Krell at the use of the words 'Romulan' and
'friend' in the same sentence.  He had never understood Earth
humor and wondered how Worf bore living with these people for
several years.
     Activity on his board interrupted Krell's thoughts as he
attempted to identify whatever had alerted the computer.
"Captain, sensor anomaly at 215 mark 187."
     "Mr. Solek," said Riker seeking information from his second.
     "Pattern matches energy readings from a cloaked vessel,
sir."
     "Red alert," barked Riker, "shields up!"
     Space in front of them twisted and turned until a Romulan
warbird emerged out of the emptiness, and promptly fired its
disruptors at the Federation starship.
     "What the hell . . .," began Riker, stunned at the blatant
attack, then quickly composed himself, "damage report."
     "Minor damage, shields holding at 78 percent," reported
Narrandda.
     "Hail them!" commanded the captain.
     "No reply," returned the tactical officer.
     The Alaska shook under a second assault.
     "Prepare to return fire!" Riker said, mentally reviewing all
the possible options in his mind.  It wasn't like the Romulans
not to gloat over their prey.  This unprovoked assault just
didn't make sense.  Perhaps they were up against a rogue group of
officers not content with their government's wait and see policy
towards the Federation.  Heaven only knew how many Klingons had
deserted the Imperial Navy after the peace treaty, and Starfleet
was still dealing with them out on the fringe.
     "Sir, two more Romulan warships decloaking off of port and
starboard."
     The hell with this thought Riker.  "Maximum photon
dispersal, 360 degree arc, helm get us out of here.  Fire!"  With
more punishment being delivered to the ship, the Alaska fired six
photon torpedoes at its foes and sped away in the confusion.
     "Sir, the Romulans are pursuing!" exclaimed the Andorian
lieutenant.
     "Mr. Crusher, are we in Federation space?" questioned the
first officer.
     "Yes, sir," replied Wesley, "the Romulans are still giving
pursuit."
     Stunned, Will just stared at the viewscreen.  What were the
Romulans doing?  Were they intent on starting a intragalactic
war?
     "Sir," began Solek, "I recommend contacting Starfleet for
reinforcements.  Starfleet must be notified of this treaty
violation."
     Riker thought that one over.  It made sense, but was Solek
interested in the safety of the crew or was he eager to gain a
war with the Romulans?
     "Hail them again, Mr. Narrandda."
     "Aye, sir," replied the lieutenant, caught off guard.  He
was even more caught off guard by getting a reply to his hail.
     "Communications established," said Narrandda in shock.
     "On screen," replied Riker attempting to compose his best
'what the hell do you think you're doing' face.
     "This is Captain Riker of the USS Alaska.  I demand to know
the cause of your unprovoked attack on this vessel and your
deliberate disregard of the treaty between us by your violation
of Federation space."
     "Strange Captain," replied the Romulan commander, "I thought
Starfleet trained its officers on how to conduct themselves in a
time of war."

     "War?" replied Riker.  "Commander, as far as I know the
Trehat makes you
think we are in a state of war."
     "I would call the deliberate attack and destruction of a
Romulan warbird by a Federation starship as grounds for war,
Captain!"
     "What are you talking about?" demanded Riker.
     "Please, Captain," replied Commander Bolad in amusement,
"spare me your attempts at naievity.  I am not impressed.  A
Federation starship attacked and destroyed a Romulan warbird
patrolling the Neutral Zone.  Our government will not stand for
this aggressive behavior and demands immediate retribution."
     "Look Commander," began Will after glancing at his computer
display as to how close the Romulans were to firing range, "I
don't know what your talking about.  My superiors have not
informed me about any of this.  Now I suggest that you return to
Romulan space so that I can clear up this misunderstanding before
this becomes a real war."
     "So be it, Captain.  You may discuss this with your
superiors," responded Bolad as a malicious grin spread across his
face, "they will join you quite shortly.  Fire!"
     The three Romulan warships opened fire on the Alaska.  The
Federation ship buckled under the attack, its shields totally
decimated.  The Romulans prepared to finish them off, and then
all hell broke loose.

     Three Romulan warships appeared on the viewscreen.  To the
trained observer they were Nova class battleships, but to the
eyes of James T. Kirk they appeared to be borrowed Klingon
K'tinga class cruisers.  Kirk silently watched the three Romulan
warships bear down on the Federation vessel, silently counting
the seconds till they were within weapons range.
     "Commander, time to weapons range," asked the captain.
     "Fourteen seconds, Captain," replied Commander Miranda
Mitchell.
     So much like her father, thought Jim.  It was comforting to
know that his old friend shared something else in common with
him, that being children they had never known in their life.  His
son was now dead, thought Kirk grimly, but at least a part of
Gary lives on in this woman.  It was also comforting to have a
person whom he could relate to as science officer, easing the
part of him that missed Spock's prescence on the bridge.
     Of course that wasn't the only place that a familiar place
greeted him on the bridge.  His helmsman was none other than his
nephew Lt. Commander Peter Kirk.  It was good to see the Kirk
name live on, especially in the lineage of his older brother, dad
would have wanted it that way, thought Kirk privately.  The
memory of his father was something he still hadn't gotten out
from under him.  He had not been the ideal son for most of his
growing up and had just started to develop a bond with his father
when Commander George Samuel Kirk was lost in space, never to be
heard from again.  Yes it was good to have family aboard,
especially in trying times like these.
     "Entering weapons range now, Captain!" reported Mitchell.
     "Sir," reported the navigator, "enemy vessels are firing!"
          "Helmsman, fire phasers on the lead vessel," ordered the
captain.
     Twin beams of lethal energy leapt out from under the saucer
of the Enterprise-A and smashed into the shields belonging to
Bolad's ship.  The Romulan ship broke off from its attack and
turned on its new assailant.  In the meantime, Kirk had ordered
his ship to dive between the two trailing Romulan vessels and
fired phasers that ripped through their side shields.  The
Romulan vessels returned fire and hit each other point blank on
their crippled shield side.  Both vessels suffered major damage
and limped from the battle scene, engaging their still barely
functioning cloaking devices.
     Bolad was not as easy to give up as his fellow commanders.
"Gunner," barked Bolad, seething with range, "lock disruptors on
new target and fire!"
     The Romulan warbird Vindicator unleashed its weaponry on the
Enterprise-A, but the Federation ship withstood the attack easily
and fired a salvo of photon torpedoes at the Romulan attacker.
The Vindicator's shields crumbled under the assault and attempted
to maneuver into a better position to fire, when a warp core
breach occured and the damaged containment systems failed.
Within moments, the Romulan warbird erupted into a cosmic
inferno.  The Enterprise-A sped away from the destructive blast
but the Alaska was not so lucky.  Crippled from its previous
battle, Riker's ship was forced to bear the brunt of the assault
at a cost of all of its sensor systems being burned out.  Space
became a realm of tranquility once more with a badly damaged
Federation starship stranded in the middle.


     "Damage report," moaned Riker as he slowly got back to his
feet.  After waiting several moments for a reply he climbed up to
the tactical station to assess the damage personally, and that's
when he saw why he hadn't been answered.
     Lt. Narrandda lay in a pool of blood, his neck severed by a
piece of equipment that had broken loose during the battle.
Riker saw that there was nothing for him to do and began to
assess the damage to his ship.  The ship was temporarily
powerless and it seemed as though most of its systems were out as
well.  Not good thought Riker, especially in the middle of a war.
A thought occurred to him and he turned to gaze at the
viewscreen.  It was out as well.  Great, he thought, no telling
whether the Romulans are still out there or not.  Probably not,
he concluded, or you wouldn't be alive to ponder that question.
Damn, he had handled that poorly.  There must have been something
he could've done to change what had happened.  But what had made
the Romulans change their minds?  One minute his ship was being
pounded by disruptors and the next a blinding flash had destroyed
most of his remaining functional equipment and he had blacked
out.
     Bridge personnel got to their feet slowly and returned to
their station.  Well one thing was going his way, thought Riker,
the comm system is still operational, at least for intraship
communications.  That was a great irony, the comm system always
used to be the first to go in a battle in the old days.
     "Mr. Orleans," spoke Riker as he activated his communicator,
"What's it look like down there?"
     Riker waited nervously for several seconds before a reply
came back.  "Orleans here.  Captain, it looks as though most of
the damage is superficial.  Just about all of her systems are
down, but not anything major.  Looks as though she distributed
the pain nicely," chuckled the engineer.
     "Thank Starfleet for that one," replied the captain, "It
looks as though the new structural design served its purpose.
Continue with the repairs and make shields the number one
priority."
     "Aye, sir, Engineering out," replied Gabe before he severed
the connection.
     "Ok people," began Riker as he delivered his cheerup speech,
"it looks like we've got quite a mess to clean up.  First
priority is the shields and when they're up I want to know
exactly what happened out there and why we're still here."
     Bridge crew began to carry out there tasks and Riker sank
back in his command chair to try to think of what had happened
and what in hell was going on in the universe.


     The Borg watched their pawn succeed once more.  The human
known as James T. Kirk was only deviating from his expected
behavior by 3.1 percent and the Borg set out to correct that
deviation.  Once the three ships designated as Romulan were
destroyed, the Borg had activated their cloaking field and masked
the Federation starship within it.  They did not want the other
Federation ship destroyed, not yet.  That ship contained William
T. Riker, a valuable decoy.  The human Riker would lead their
ultimate prize right to them, for that was the ends of their
mission, the destruction of the Enterprise commanded by Jean-Luc
Picard.  The Enterprise was the only ship that had ever defeated
the Borg.  The human Picard was the only lifeform to resist
assimilation.  This would be corrected.  The Enterprise would be
destroyed.  Locutus would rejoin the collective.
     After they had been delayed by the Enterprise and the human
Picard, the Borg began to adapt.  Their assimilation of the
Federation was inevitable.  The Borg had assimilated the cloaking
device from the Klingons and had adapted it to their use.  They
then assimilated technology from the Romulans and other major
groups in the area.  The assimilation of all technology that
could resist them would correct their earlier setback.  They
would not be stopped.
     Then the human Picard had tried once more to stop them.  He
had adapted one of their own to destroy them and returned him to
the collective.  They had given the Borg unit a name, and a sense
of individuality.  They called him Hugh.  Hugh shared with the
collective his sense of individuality.  This disruptive program
threatened to destroy the collective, but the Borg were prepared.
They had adapted.  After the human Picard had induced a false
regenerative cycle into a portion of the collective, the Borg had
subdivided their organization to prevent the entire collective
from being infected by a disruptive program such as
"individuality."  The Borg units in immediate contact with the
Borg unit Third of Five were affected but the Borg separated
themselves from these corrupted units before the damage could be
spread.  Nevertheless, some part of the program had been
transmitted throughout the collective.  This allowed them to
adapt further.
     After securing technological prowess over the next area of
the galaxy to be assimilated, they began to assimilate other
programs to grow stronger.  They assimilated the art of trading
from the Ferengi as a ways of achieving their means without
expending energy.  Next they assimilated deception from the
Romulans.  The Klingons provided them with aggressiveness which
allowed them to increase their efficiency in battle.  The Borg
had assimilated and adapted all and became stronger each time.
That was why the Borg were destined to improve the quality of
life wherever they encountered it.  They adapted and grew
stronger.  Resistance was futile.  Assimilation was inevitable.


     Kirk glanced over at his communications officer and was
startled not to see Uhura in her familiar place, until he
realized that Captain Uhura's abilities were needed elsewhere as
chief of communications at Starfleet Command.
     "Lt. Pierson," Kirk addressed the blond haired male manning
the station, "alert Starfleet Command of our recent battle and
request further instructions."
     "Aye, sir, encoding message now," replied the officer fresh
out of the Academy.
     Kirk didn't like getting orders one mission at a time.  To
him this seemed like a damned inefficient way to run a war.  Of
course if he complained to much they would suggest he try to run
it better and Starfleet had been looking to promote him back to
Admiral for a long time.  Three Romulan warships destroyed and
several others damaged, so far this had been a successful
campaign on this front, he could only hope others were doing as
well.
     Kirk began to question the motives and legitimacy of this
war.  The revenge he felt over the deaths of Sulu and Spock was
calming down and Jim became more and more wary of gunning down
ships crewed by hundreds of sentient beings.  Also, he had just
finished fighting a battle to bring the Federation and the
Klingon Empire closer to peace than they had ever been before and
now he was back in space destroying Romulans ships in the name of
war.  Sometimes the universe just didn't make any sense.
     Of course, war never had made sense to Jim.  After all the
years and all the battles, he'd thought that some spark of wisdom
in matters of colossal violence would have come to him, but none
as of yet.  Jim Kirk had been a warrior for the majority of his
life.  He was also an explorer but when it came time to write the
history books he would be looked upon as the greatest warrior of
his age.  That was why Starfleet had been trying to sweep him
under the rug lately.  With tw extinct Genesis Planet.  Kirk had never truly
gotten over the
feeling of betrayal he felt for destroying his ship.  That ship
had meant more to him, and had cost him more than anything in the
galaxy.  Because of his love of command, he had never pursued
another lifestyle, one that could have enabled him to get to know
his son David Marcus before he met his premature death on that
same world.  Genesis had never meant life to him, but rather the
image of death and of wasted oppurtunities.
     Now, once more, he was surrounded by death in this war.  He
had never thought he would see the day when the galaxy's known
major powers would clash on an apocolyptic scale.  How many had
died already in this slaughter?  Ten million, ten billion, who
knew.  It all seemed pointless and yet fitting.  Death had been
his chief rival in life and time and time again he had outwitted
it and defied fate his soul.  He had cheated death and broken
rules to avoid it while other innocent people had died around
him.  Spock and Sulu were now gone, who else would Kirk have to
mourn before his time finally came.  Or was he cursed to live
immortally, never to be caught by the hands of fate.


Captain's Log:  Stardate 50012.0

We have arrived at our rendezvous
with the USS Rommel.  Her captain will
give us our orders from which we will
doubtless participate in the open
hostilities that are ready to break
out along the Neutral Zone if diplomatic
talks with the Romulans should fail.

     Captain Picard gazed at the face of the captain of the USS
Rommel, a fellow Galaxy class ship and no doubt the last one to
be commissioned due to Starfleet's new ship deployment policies.
     "Good to see you again, Captain," greeted the commander of
the Federation flagship.
     "Thank you, Captain Picard," replied Shelby, "I'm sorry that
we can only meet when the Borg are involved."
     "As I, Captain.  Tell me, has Starfleet discovered any
connection between the Borg and the recent outbreak of
hostilities along the Neutral Zone," questioned Picard.
     "Are we on a secure channel," asked Shelby nervously.
     "As secure as possible," replied Picard, growing more
curious every second, "Would you rather beam aboard to discuss
this face to face?" suggested the captain.
     "That won't be necessary, time is of the essence," replied
Shelby with determination, "Recently, the body of Captain James
T. Kirk was stolen from a Federation research lab and sold to the
Borg."
     "Sold," said Picard, scarcely believing his ears, James
Kirk?  "Captain, are we to assume that the Borg have adapted the
art of trade."
     "Amongst many other adaptions," replied Shelby, "This throws
off any information we had on the Borg or their patterns.  An
unidentified Federation ship has been reported to have provoked
several attacks on Romulans vessels in the Zone.  It is our
theory that the Borg have put Captain Kirk in command of this
ship and are using him to start a war that will weaken our
respective cultures and facilitate assimilation."
     "Have any actions been taken to confirm your hypothesis,"
posited Picard.
     "The Alaska was sent out to verify this, but she has
recently encountered the Romulans and has suffered damage to most
of her systems.  We don't know whether she will be able to carry
out her mission."
     So, that's where Riker went off to in such a hurry, thought
Picard.  That made sense why she had left spacedock a full three
weeks ahead of schedule.
     "We want you to assess Captain Riker's ability to complete
his mission and assist him in any way," ordered Shelby.
     "Certainly, though I'm sure Captain Riker can handle
anything he gets into," boomed Picard with confidence.
     "Yes, I'm sure he can," spoke Shelby cautiously, not willing
to tell Picard of Starfleet's lack of confidence in Riker's
abilities.  "Shelby out."
     Picard turned to Deanna Troi, waiting for her to give her
opinion of that exchange.
     "Counselor," encouraged Picard.
     "She seemed to have some apprehension regarding Will, as
though she wasn't convinced of how well he could command his
ship."
     "Yes, it did seem that way," agreed Picard, "and yet she was
speaking for Starfleet Command," Picard acknowledged in his mind.
Determined to speak of this to his former first officer when he
saw him, Captain Picard cleared his mind of distractions and got
down to business.
     "Lt. Ro, plot a course for the Alaska's last known position,
warp 5."
     "Aye, sir," replied the Bajoran officer, "heading 052 mark
169, warp 5."
     "Engage," spoke Picard as he seated himself down in his
seat.


     "Mr. Orleans, what have you got for me," asked Riker,
currently down in Engineering getting an update on the repairs to
his ship.
     "All systems operating normally, Captain," replied the
engineer with a grin spreading halfway across his face.  Will had
always liked an engineer with pride in his work.  The grin slowly
died though as Gabe continued his report, "All systems except
sensors.  It seems that that explosion knocked out most of our
external arrays.  Aft sensors are operating at 55%, but forward
are still down.  I may have partial scanning power in another two
to three hours," finished the engineer glumly.
     "Is there any log of what happened while we were out,"
wished Riker.
     "No, sir.  Whatever hit us knocked out all our recorders and
fried whatever we had operating at the time.  As far as I'm
concerned the almighty could have come down and destroyed those
Romulan warships himself," replied Orleans in frustration.
     "Well, I hope we can rule that out.  I'd like to know that I
can handle whatever I'm dealing with," chuckled Will.
     "Aye, sir.  I'll do my best to get her in fighting shape."
     "Thanks, Gabe," replied Will affectionately.
     Riker turned to leave, but stopped to hear Gabe's final
comment, "Oh, thank Thomas for me.  Without him we could have
never gotten the job done so quickly."
     A pain shot through Riker at the mention of Thomas's name.
Will simply nodded his head and entered the nearest turbolift.

     Will exited on to the bridge, where he was intercepted by
his executive officer before he could reach the safety of his
chair.    "Captain, may I have a word with you," spoke Commander
Solek.
     "Of course, Commander," replied the captain with a false
sense of interest.
     Solek walked him over to the computer station where he was
working.  "I believe I have found a way to penetrate the Borg's
electromagnetic interference and nullify their communications
dampener."
     "Good," replied Riker, thinking at last something has gone
right.  "Will it be ready when Commander Orleans gets the sensors
back on line?"
     "Affirmative, Captain," responded the Vulcan cooly, "I shall
need another 1.6 hours to complete the modifications."
     "If this Federation starship is being controlled by the Borg
and if Captain Kirk is in command of her, maybe we can reason
with him," hoped Riker.
     "That is assuming that the Borg haven't already assimilated
Captain Kirk into their collective."
     Damn, Vulcans can be depressing at times, thought Will.  He
had already considered that possibility but had hoped that the
Borg had left Kirk alone so as not to impair his command
abilities and were manipulating him in some non-biological
fashion.  That was their only hope of getting in contact with him
and stopping this situation before all out war broke out.
     "Let's hope they haven't," said Riker and turned to consult
with another officer.
     "Aye, sir," replied Solek, not understanding why humans had
this habit of wishing for things not under their control.

     Exactly one point six hours later, Solek completed his
modifications and after another thirty-six minutes, partial
forward sensor abilities came back on line.  Using the limited
scanning range, Solek discovered trace elements that marked where
the Borg ship had been.  Extrapolating that path, he calculated
an approximate heading from which the Borg ship could have taken.

     "Captain Riker to the bridge," said Solek into his fleet-
issue communicator.
     "On my way," replied Riker, expecting trouble.
     Riker entered the bridge to find everything at normal, but
before he could say anything he spotted Solek out of the corner
of his eye and approached his first officer with a cold and
calculating stare.
     "Captain, I believe you would be interested in this,"
reported Solek.
     "What have you got, Commander," putting a little too much
emphasis on the rank.
     Solek thought about this momentarily and chose to ignore the
apparent hostility he detected in his superior's voice.  "Mr.
Orleans has restored partial forward sensors and I have detected
trace elements used by the Borg in their propulsion."
     "Can you extrapolate a course," questioned Riker.
     "I already have, sir.  There is a 92.5 percent probability
that the Borg ship took a direct course for the Klingon-Romulan
Neutral Zone."
     So now they were after the Klingons, thought the captain.
Of course with a renegade Federation starship they would attempt
to bring the Klingons into this conflict, and they probably
would.  The Klingons are just itching to get into the action, no
matter who it was with.  They would love an intragalactic free
for all.
     "Mr. Crusher," snapped Riker to his helmsman after making
his decision, "lay in a course heading of 513 mark 278, warp 8."
     "Yes, sir," replied Wesley dutifully, "Sir, that course
takes us directly to the neutral zone shared by the Romulan and
Klingon empires."
     "I know, you have your orders, Lieutenant," commanded Riker.
     "Aye, sir.  Course laid in, engaging warp engines to warp
factor eight," replied Mr. Crusher.
     The Alaska pivoted 35 degrees to port and warped out on a
course with destiny.


     "Captain," said Worf gaining his commander's attention.
"Sensors detect the Alaska at the outer range of our sensors."
     "Hail them, Commander," ordered Picard, delighted to have
found his friend in one piece.
     "Sir, the Alaska has just gone to warp 8."
     "Warp 8," muttered Picard, what the hell was she in such a
hurry for, unless it was urgent enough to break the warp speed
limit.
     "Hail them," said Picard.
     "They are answering with only a set of coordinates, nothing
else," replied Worf.
     Doesn't want to tip his hand to any eavesdroppers, thought
Picard.  He must have had a hell of a runnin with the Romulans.
     "Lt. Ro, lay in a course parallel to the Alaska's, warp 8."
     "Sir, that will also break the warp 5 speed limit," replied
the helmsman according to Starfleet protocol when their captain
was about to violate Starfleet orders.
     "I'm well aware of that and take full responsibility for
this infraction," replied Picard.
     "Aye sir, course plotted and laid in."
     "Engage," said Picard.  With the Romulans acting the way
they were there was no sense in announcing their position through
communications.  He would just have to trust Riker and see if he
could lend him a hand.  After all these years it felt funny to be
on the supporting end for once and not the ship spearheading the
mission.


     Krell looked up from his console momentarily to assess his
captain's position.  It was the duty of every Klingon to remove
his superior from command if that individual showed any sign of
weakness.  That was the strength of the Klingon Empire, weakness
was never tolerated and that was why they were destined to rule.
The alliance with the Federation was only a temporary one, every
Klingon heart knew this.  One day the time would come for them to
assert their rightful place as the dominant species in the galaxy
and that time was approaching very soon.  This war might be the
catalyst.  With the Romulans out of the way after a long and
protracted conflict, the Federation would be vulnerable.  These
were the thoughts of a true Klingon, thoughts of power and
conquest.  These were the thoughts he sensed in his superior
which was why for the thousandth time he decided that the time
was not right to put a dagger to this man's throat and replace
him.  But that day would come.
     "Captain Kern," spoke a subordinate, "long range sensors
detect a ship approaching."
     "Class," spat back Kern, showing his contempt for his
subordinate.  After all, that was the only way to maintain your
position by making others feel unworthy of your title.
     "Federation starship," replied Narg.
     A Federation ship, thought Kern.  Had the Federation finally
decided it was time to nullify the treaty that existed between
them?  So be it, wished Kern.  Despite his brother belonging to
this organization, he had always wanted to engage a human captain
and prove to the universe that these humans were the weak,
cowardly beings they really were.
     "Status," questioned Kern.
     "Cloaking device functioning within normal limits, ready to
decloak and transfer power to weapons at your command," replied
Krell, taking pride in anticipating his commander's next orders.
     "Thank you, Lieutenant," said Kern with as much belligerence
a Klingon could muster, "If I ask for your suggestion on how to
command I will ask it, is that clear!"
     "Yes, sir," responded Krell obsequiously, enfuriated at
himself for not predicting Kern's outburst.
     "Maintain position, and keep me posted," Kern said and went
off to his quarters.  A Federation starship, that was something
that could bring much glory to him and the empire, if handled
correctly.  Kern proceeded to his private communications
transmitter in his room to get the confirmation needed to destroy
this ship if necessary.  Yes, this could present a unique
oppurtunity indeed.  After all, ships can get misidentified in a
time of war.


     The USS Enerterprise NCC 1701-A approached the border of
Klingon space.
     "Approaching the Klingon-Romulan Neutral Zone now, Captain,"
reported Lt. Cmdr. Kirk.
     "Slow to impulse power," commanded the captain, "sensors at
maximum range.  Find me some Romulans, Commander Mitchell."
     The junior officers obediently carried out their tasks.
Many in the fleet would rather die than to fail Jim Kirk.  That
was not unusual in other societies.  What was unusual was this
committment was out of the respect held for this man, not out of
fear.
     "Mr. Kirk," it still felt strange to say that, thought Jim,
"put us on the Klingon side of the zone."
     "Aye, sir," replied his nephew.
     "Anything, Commander," asked the captain as he swiveled his
seat to face the science station.
     "Negative, sir," replied Miranda, "no cloaking signatures
are being detected presently."
     Well, no news was good news, thought Jim privately.  He
could do with some rest.  It seemed as if this ship was in a
battle every time it dropped out of warp speed.
     "Mr. Pierson, try to raise the Excalibur," asked Kirk.
     "Sir, may I remind the captain that we are under orders not
to attempt communications with anyone save Starfleet Command and
only under emergency circumstances," quoted the officer fresh out
of the Academy.
     "I'm aware of the rules, Lieutenant.  Now here's one you may
not have heard of.  I am your commanding officer and I am giving
you a direct order to contact the USS Excalibur or I will have
you court-martialed is that understood!"
     "Yes, sir," acquiesced Pierson, licking his wounds as he
worked.
     The bridge crew were all observing the exchange and quickly
returned their attentions to their stations before the captain
could notice.
     Kirk felt like a bully who had been caught picking on the
most defenseless person around.  He didn't mean to snap at
Pierson like that but the lieutenant had resisted every attempt
by Kirk to get in touch with someone besides HQ and figure out
what the hell was going on.  He had been trying to raise Captain
Chekov on the Excalibur for days now with no success.  Something
about this whole war was gnawing at the back of Jim's mind and he
couldn't shake it.  He felt that this was inherently wrong and
yet he could not think of one logical conclusion to support that
gut feeling of his that this wasn't right.
     "Captain," announced Mitchell, barely allowing Kirk to
finish his thoughts, "cloaking signature detected at 415 mark
283.
     "Yellow alert!" barked the captain.
     "Sir, that is coming from the Klingon side of the zone,"
pointed out his helmsman.
     "Identify," ordered Jim.
     "Sensors can't tell whether it is a Klingon or Romulan ship,
sir," replied Mitchell.
     "Open a channel, Mr. Pierson," ordered Kirk.
     "Channel open, sir," replied the lieutenant.
     "This is Captain James T. Kirk of the Federation starship
Enterprise to unidentified vessel, please acknowledge this signal
and identify yourselves."

     "Repeat this is Captain James T. Kirk of the Federation
starship Enterprise, identify yourselves,"  boomed the voice of a
ghost.
     "It must be a trick, sir," deduced Narg.
     "Of course it is a trick, Narg," bit back the captain, "Do
you think myself so stupid that I would have to rely on your
counsel to deduce the obvious!"
     "Of course not, Captain," replied Narg, realizing another
error in judgement he had made.
     "Krell, distance to Federation ship," asked Kern.
     "Twenty thousand kelicams," replied Krell.
     "It appears as if the Federation has finally decided to turn
against their Klingon 'allies'," thought Kern out loud.
     Despite Krell's personal yearnings for battle, he didn't
think that this was right.  With his experience in Starfleet, he
knew that the Federation would never resort to deception to
attack another.  Starfleet had always made its position clear
before taking action and would never act in a manner as to openly
invite war between their peoples.  More likely it was a renegade
ship out for personal vendetta.  But then, Starfleet had not been
known for its officers disobeying the chain of command
frequently.  It was probably a Romulan trap.  Either way,
renegade or Romulan, the ship would be destroyed.  But in case it
wasn't, he would not voice his thoughts to his superior.  He
might have need for a clean record in order to replace his
commander when the time came.  Krell would sit and wait.

     "No reply to our hails, sir," replied the comm officer.
     "Red alert, shields up," commanded Kirk, "helm, move us in,
one half impulse power."
     "Aye, sir," returned Peter over the klaxon, "one half
impulse power."
     The bridge bathed in an eery red glow, the Enterprise slowly
stalked its prey.

     "Sir, Federation vessel's shields just went up," reported
Narg.
     "Federation ship closing in," announced Krell, "range,
fifteen thousand kelicams."
     "Stand by." ordered Kern, "On my command, drop cloaking
shields, engage main shielding.  Gunner, await my command."
     "Yes, sir," chimed in the duo who those orders were directed
to.
     "Range ten thousand kelicams," said Krell.
     Kern sat with his hand stroking his chin, preparing for the
impending battle.

     "Status of belligerent," asked Kirk.
     "No change," replied Mitchell, "ship is still motionless."
     "Lieutenant," said Kirk to the communications console, "open
a channel."
     "Channel open, sir."
     "Unidentified ship, if you do not disengage your cloaking
device and identify yourselves immediately we will be forced to
assume you are a belligerent and will act accordingly to the
articles of war of interstellar law," commanded Kirk, hoping the
ship would act so that Kirk would not have to give his next
order.

     The warning echoed over the speakers of the Klingon bridge.
     "Transmit to high command, the Federation has declared war
on the Klingon Empire," announced Kern boldly.
     Krell listened to his commander's order.  He thought that
that was a rather rough interpretation of the message recieved
from the Federation ship, but didn't oppose his captain in any
way.  Let the fool start a war, Krell thought silently.
Meanwhile, he would be around to pick up the pieces.
     "Range, five thousand kelicams," reported Krell calmly, not
allowing his thoughts to be interpreted by his voice.
     "Disengage cloaking device!" ordered Kern, "course, 213 mark
341, fire disruptors!"

     "No reply, sir," reported Pierson apologetically.
     Kirk prepared to give the order to fire.
     "Sir, ship is decloaking," announced Mitchell.
     Kirk waited on his fire order to see what the ship was.  It
was possible that they had heeded his warning and he had to allow
them the chance to identify themselves.
     It took him approximately two seconds to see his mistake.
The Klingon ship decloaked and immediately maneuvered below the
Enterprise its disruptors firing almost instantaneously.
     The Enterprise rocked under the attack, the crew fighting to
stay in their seats.
     "Damage report," barked Kirk out aloud.
     "Shields holding, minimal damage to decks 13-26," replied
Miranda.
     "Helm, bring us around to bear," ordered the captain.
     The Enterprise maneuvered around into firing position.
     The Klingon ship suddenly appeared on the viewscreen and
fired its disruptors point blank at the ship.
     The Enterprise took another beating as sparks began to fly
out of consoles.  Kirk was thrown from his chair against the side
rail.
     "Shields at 40 percent, damage to forward sensors," replied
the science officer.
     "Target and fire torpedoes," ordered Kirk, trying to
retaliate before the ship could evade.
     Two photon torpedoes erupted from their launch tubes and
streaked towards the Klingon vessel.  The first clipping the wing
of the Bird of Prey and the second gashing the underbelly.

     "Evasive," screamed Kern after sustaining two hits.
     The Klingon vessel peeled away from the Federation ship.
     "Damage report," ordered Kern.
     "Starboard disruptors off line," supplied Krell, "Warp
engines offline."
     That from two nearly direct hits, thought Kern.  What was
that ship carrying?  Kern returned his thoughts to staying alive
now rather than simply achieving victory.


     The Borg watched the engagement with cold, calculating
analysis.  Their plan was proceeding within 2.9 percent of their
predictions.  The Klingons would be drawn into the conflict and
the mutual slaughter would leave this area of the galaxy weak,
facilitating the subsequent assimilation of their cultures and
technology.  Soon the Cardassians, Tholians, and others would be
drawn in.  There was a 72.9 percent chance that the Federation
would fragment and dissolve into civil war, increasing their
expected destruction by 2.4 years.  Yes, the Borg unimind
thought, this was much more efficient than using Borg to destroy
the defenses of these future brothers.  The Borg had adapted
well.
     The Federation ship they had constructed had proven to be
useful.  The ship was similar in appearance to a real Federation
starship, except this was built with Borg components.  Most of
the ship was an immense generator needed to power the ships
advanced systems.  The ship contained Federation technology and
weaponry, but at increased efficiency.  The Borg had used the
knowledge gained from their contact with Locutus to replicate
advanced Federation weaponry, but with more power.  This leaved
no trace of Borg involvement in their activities putting sole
blame on the Federation.  Its shields were twice as powerful.
The ship responded as an Enterprise class ship should, but it was
not suffering any real damage.  The hologrophic technology they
had adapted had been used to convince the human Kirk that he was
really in his time.  The ships he had encountered had been
modified via the viewscreen to resemble 23rd century craft.  The
crew were in fact all holographic representations.  The ship was
run automatically, activated by the human's voice commands.
Every attempt had been made to give him freedom so as not to
impede the command style that had given him victory time after
time.  The Borg had planned well, and after his usefulness was
over, the human Kirk would be assimilated into the collective to
add his knowledge and expertise to the Borg.  The Borg were
looking forward to that.  With the assimilation of Kirk, the Borg
would once more be the unstoppable force they were before their
defeat by the traitor Locutus.


     "Approaching Klingon-Romulan Neutral Zone," said Lt. Crusher
to the officer on deck.
     "Slow to impulse power, Mr. Crusher," replied Solek,
"Captain to the bridge."
     After a few moments Riker exited the turbolift and sat down
in his chair moments after Solek had gotten up.
     "Status," requested Riker.
     "All weapons systems are armed, sir," answered Solek,
"Commander Orleans reports that we are fully operational, sensors
operating at 100 percent."
     "Just in time," mused Will.
     "Captain," reported the operations officer while Solek
ascended to the science station, "sensors detect massive weapons
fire ahead at 169 mark 328."
     "Analysis," said Riker.
     "Sir, it appears to be Klingon and some form of Federation
weaponry," returned Solek.
     "Some form of Federation weaponry, what does that mean,"
said Riker a little to gruffly.
     "Readings indicate Federation technology," said Solek
obviously puzzled by what he was seeing, "but of a nature and
kind I have never seen.  The weapons emanations are 150 percent
more powerful than the Alaska's systems."
     "Hypothesis," asked Riker.
     "Sir, I believe that this is the Borg ship that has been
provoking the Romulans as of late.  It is likely that the Borg
have adapted and improved Federation technology, possibly to
leave evidence behind implicating the Federation in their
attacks."
     Will had heard enough.  "Mr. Crusher, take us to those
coordinates, red alert, shields up!"
     The crew performed their tasks and the Alaska joined the
battle.


     The Klingon warship, which Kirk perceived to be a Romulan
vessel, evaded the Enterprise in an attempt to escape.
     "Sir, the Romulan ship is retreating," announced Lt.
Commander Kirk in disbelief.
     "Not like the Romulans to run," thought Kirk out loud.  What
were they doing.  With only two hits, they couldn't be that badly
off.
     "Captain, I'm receiving a transmission from the Romulan
ship," reported Pierson.
     "Put it on screen," ordered Kirk, determined to get to the
bottom of this.
     "Sir, its not meant for us.  The Romulans are calling for
reinforcements.  It sounds like a whole invasion force is on its
way."
     "Peter," exclaimed Kirk, "target their communications center
and fire phasers."
     "Phasers firing," replied the junior Kirk.
     A pinpoint beam of energy pierced the blackness of space and
struck its mark.
     The Klingon ship's shields crumbled under the assault and
the ship drifted off into space, a powerless hulk.
     "What happened," ordered Kirk.
     Peter Kirk turned around in his seat and faced his uncle
with remarkable composure.  "I must have hit a weak spot in her
shields.  The Romulans must have been engaged in a previous
battle and had already suffered damage.  The phasers were fully
powered and she couldn't take the beating.  Sir, the ship is
dead."
     Kirk looked on in disbelief to the destruction he had once
again caused.


     "Klingon vessel has been attacked once more," reported
Wesley.  "Power systems failing including life support."
     "Transporter room," said the captain into the air,
"transport survivors immediately.  Sickbay, prepare for Klingon
casualties."
     "Mr. Crusher bring us in front of the other vessel," ordered
Riker.  He had always thought that staring your enemy in the face
was the best way to intimidate him, that way he could see your
weapons aimed right at him.
     "Aye, sir," replied Wesley as he maneuvered the ship into
postion.
     "Mr. Riker, prepare to implement Commander Solek's program,"
said one Riker to another.
     "Yes, sir," replied Thomas with a slight note of
insubordination, "program on line."
     "Hail them," ordered the captain.

     The Borg watched as the USS Alaska approached their ship,
hidden safely at a distance from the battle by their cloaking
field.  With careful attention to detail, the Borg had
immediately detected the intrusion and had modified the vessel to
appear as a Romulan battleship on their Federation decoy's
monitors.  The human Riker had arrived at last, and with his
arrival their was a 92.7 percent probability that the Enterprise
would follow.  With the two of them here, the Borg's revenge
would be complete.  Revenge had been a highly adaptable trait
assimilated from the Klingons.  It had given the Borg a purpose
and drive that had been unparalleled in their history.  That was
the reason why they had manipulated events to this place.  The
greatest human warrior of his time would destroy the two greatest
threats to the Borg masterplan, a plan that must never be put in
jeopardy.  If the Borg had adapted irony they may have noticed
the justice in having a human regarded as a legend be the cause
of destruction for the two humans who were regarded as their
saviors.  But they hadn't, all they had was the satisfaction that
their revenge was about to be exacted.  Riker would die.


     On the viewscreen, Kirk saw a top of the line Romulan
battleship staring him down.  That had been a strategy he had
used all his life.  He was curious who this commander was and was
interested to know if his battle techniques were being taught by
the Romulan High Command.  Before he could signal Pierson to hail
the other ship, the viewscreen began to behave erratically.  The
image it was projecting began to twist and turn until a clear and
shocking image appeared before his eyes.  Kirk looked at the face
of a human and behind him a Federation style bridge more advanced
than Starfleet's latest Excelsior class.
     "This is Captain William T. Riker of the Federation starship
Alaska," began the face on the screen.
     "Captain Kirk, if you can hear me, you are in grave danger.
There's no time to explain, lower your shields immediately so we
can transport you to safety.  I beg you, please listen to me.
You are in immediate danger from beings known as the Borg.  They
are tricking you to make you believe that you. . . still. . .
tee-third. . ."  The message began to break up and was gone
without a trace.  The ship on the screen was once more a Romulan
warship.
     "Lieutenant, what happened to that transmission," snapped
Kirk.
     Lieutenant Pierson didn't respond instantly.  He sat there
gazing at the viewscreen while the Borg modified the program to
encorporate the corruption Riker had introduced through his
transmission.  Finally, Pierson returned Kirk's look, acting as
if he had been pondering the problem for a moment before giving
his answer.
     "Sir, it is obviously a trick of some kind.  I recognize how
they did it now.  They have used their computers to make them
appear to be human.  We just learned about it at the Academy a
few months ago.  Evidently their computers couldn't handle the
power drainage needed to pull of this illusion and failed."
     That seemed to answer Kirk's question.  After all, once
you've retired from the fleet they don't exactly keep you
appraised of top secret intelligence data, yet he still felt
uneasy about the message.  The individual had called himself
Captain Riker, and yet he wore uniforms that did not resemble
their own, lending credibility to Pierson's claims.  But
something about the man seemed familiar.  The way he addressed
himself and spoke conveyed to him the mark of a Federation
officer and of a man that was telling the truth.
     "Lieutenant, hail the Romulans," decided Kirk.
     "Sir," began the academy graduate with uncharacteristic
defiance, "may I remind the captain that the Romulan Empire and
the Federation are at war.  The Romulans have been responsible
for the deaths of thousands of lives and have just now tried to
trick us.  It is our duty to destroy all Romulan warships on site
to protect Federation lives and property."
     Kirk stared down his junior officer, letting his gaze fix on
him for a few heartbeats.  "I am aware of my duties, Lieutenant,
and none of them warrant attacking another ship without
provocation.  I am in command of this vessel and will decide who
I do and don't communicate with, is that understood, Lieutenant,"
said Kirk with a cool calm manner.
     Pierson trembled for a few moments before nodding his head
and slumping back into his seat.
     "Now, Mr. Pierson, please hail the Romulan ship," ordered
Kirk.
     "Aye sir," Pierson replied as he began to make the
connection.
     "Captain," Miranda Mitchell yelled, interrupting Pierson's
task, "new vessel entering range at 513 mark 268."
     "On screen," said Kirk.
     An image of an Enterprise class starship appeared on the
viewscreen, joining the Enterprise in facing off the Romulans.
     "Sir, its the Excalibur," announced Lt. Cmdr. Kirk at the
helm.
     "Belay that last order, contact Captain Chekov," addressed
Kirk to his comm officer.
     An image of the bridge of the Excalibur appeared on the
viewscreen with a smiling Russian at the center.
     "Could you use another hand, Keptin," asked Chekov,
mimicking their exchange on the bridge of the previous Enterprise
in their battle against Khan.
     "Thank you, Captain," replied Kirk, glad to see one of his
former officers again, "that would be much appreciated."
     "I'll swing around her backside so that ve can get her
between our two ships," posed Chekov.
     "Very well," replied Kirk, "we've experienced difficulties
in our transmissions.  I am now reestablishing communications to
see if we can resolve this war once and for all."
     "Understood, and Keptin," said Chekov with heartfelt
admiration, "its good to see you in action again.  Excalibur
out."
     The Excalibur began its maneuver, moving off to the left of
the Romulan battleship.
     "Mr. Pierson, please establish communications with the. . ."
     "Captain," screamed his helmsman.
     Kirk looked up at the viewscreen to see two green balls of
energy shoot out from the Romulan ship and smack into the right
underbelly of the Excalibur.  The Excalibur listed to port from
the barrage and attempted to maneuver into firing position but
the Romulans were too quick.  With another deadly series of
blasts the Excalibur's two hulls separated from each other in a
massive explosion.  Before Kirk could bring the Enterprise into
action, the secondary hull exploded from a loss of antimatter
containment, propelling the wrecked saucer section out into
space, leaving an ion trail of debris in its wake.
     "No life signs, sir," replied Miranda to the captain's
unasked question.
     Kirk sat back in his seat in shock.  It had all happened so
fast, he hadn't had time to react.  Before his eyes, another of
his former crew, and a lifelong friend had been killed.  First
Spock and Sulu, and now Chekov.  Kirk just stared at the
viewscreen in disbelief.  How many more would die before his time
came.  How many more would perish because of his inaction.  A
fire like he had never known before began to burn inside of Kirk,
rage seething through his veins.
     "Jim, there was nothing you could have done," said McCoy in
his consoling manner from behind.
     Jim never heard the doctor's words, his mind was already set
on his next course of action.
     "Mr. Kirk, fire all weapons!"

     Captain William T. Riker cursed under his breath as the
image of James Kirk warped and twisted out of focus until the
transmission stopped.
     "Commander, what happened," asked Riker to his second.
     "A third party appears to be jamming our transmission,
Captain," replied Solek.
     "Source?"
     "One moment, sir, I am attempting to locate," returned
Solek, calmly relaying commands to the computer without stopping
to look up at his commanding officer.
     "Their appears to be unusual activity emanating from ten
thousand kilometers off the port bow," reported Solek finally.
     "Mr. Crusher, visual," ordered Riker.
     Wesley relayed the image to the main viewscreen and the crew
looked at an empty region of space.
     Suddenly, a ripple appeared, like a stone dropped in a pond
sending waves out in all directions, except this ripple appeared
cubical in shape.
     "Captain, it apears to be a Borg ship.  They are expending
tremendous amounts of energy that are causing side affects with
their cloaking device.  Their transmissions are being directed
towards the Enterprise-A," reported Solek.
     "What the devil could they be doing," muttered Riker.
     He didn't have time for an answer as the Alaska shook
violently from the surprise attack.  Multiple torpedoes ripped
into the ship knocking her crew off their feets.  Sparks flew out
of consoles and a phaser beam cut into the weakened shielding.
After the last torpedo hit resonated through the hull, the crew
began to resume their stations.
     "Mr. Crusher, evasive maneuvers," ordered Riker in an effort
to avoid a second attack.
     "Damage report," barked the captain to his twin.
     "Massive damage to decks 9-13, casualty reports coming in
from all over the ship.  Shields holding at 43 percent.
Engineering reports warp drive offline," said Thomas.
     "Obviously their carrying more firepower than they should
be.  Mr. Solek, any chance of reestablishing communications,"
asked Will hopefully.
     "Negative, sir.  The Borg have increased their dampening
field to a point where further attempts to penetrate their
shielding would be useless," reported Solek.
     "We have no choice then," declared Riker solemnly,
regretting his next command already, "Mr. Crusher, bring us
around on a heading of 152 mark 263.  Tactical, prepare to fire a
volley of photon torpedoes on my command, target engineering
section.  Try to disable her if you can."
     "Aye, sir," replied Thomas with an edge to his voice.  He
found it useless to attempt to save a man who had obviously
betrayed the Federation and joined the enemy.  From what he had
heard of the Borg, Kirk probably wasn't even Kirk anymore but
some Borg pawn.  He didn't feel the sympathy that his counterpart
did.  James Kirk had died a long time ago and as far as he was
concerned they should make sure thassed at their prospects of
survival, but not this crew.  They served under Captain William
T. Riker and knew that if anyone could defeat a living legend, he
could.  This was the man who defeated the Borg when over forty
starships had failed at Wolf 359.  A man who had faced the
Romulans and the Cardassians, and had prevailed each time.  Riker
may not be respected by the Admiralty, but the officers of
Starfleet knew him to be one of the best tactical minds of his
age.  Riker and Kirk were the best in both of their worlds, only
fate could have brought the two together to see which one was the
best of all time.  The crew saw this as the ultimate battle, and
were proud to be a witness to this historic event.  They had no
doubt in their mind who would prevail.
     "Captain, disturbance at 83 mark 231 mark 355!" shouted one
of the crew.
     "Mr. Crusher, target phasers and fire!"
     Twin beams of energy lanced out from the Alaska, racing to
their target.

     On the screen of the Enterprise, a shuttlecraft exploded.
     "Bring us in, Commander," ordered Kirk, pleased that his
deception had worked.  He knew that the Romulans would be relying
on visual to identify the point of attack, after all, he would
have done the exact same thing.  He sent a shuttlecraft away from
the Enterprise and had it approach the Romulan warship to see if
they would take the bait.  Apparently they did.
     "Lock phasers on target and fire when ready," ordered Kirk.
     The Enterprise descended upon the Alaska with her guns
blazing.

     The viewscreen showed a small object being destroyed by the
Alaska's weaponry.
     "Wait a minute, that's too small to be a ship," thought
Riker out loud, realizing his error a moment too late.
     "Federation shuttlecraft, Captain," supplied Solek.
     "Sir, new disturbance from port aft!" alerted Wesley
Crusher.
     "Visual," commanded Riker, "Fire phas. . ."
     Riker never completed his command as the Enterprise roared
in firing her supercharged phasers at the Alaska.  The ship
heaved heavily under the beating.  Panels that were intact blew
out, killing several crewmen.  The shuttlebay experienced a
sudden decompression and exploded, ripping a hole in the
starship.  The lights dimmed and finally faded out, leaving only
the eerie red emergency lighting functioning, bathing the bridge
in a hellish glow.
     "Damage," announced Riker, not really wanting to know.
     Thomas lifted himself off the ground and returned to his
station.
     "One hundred confirmed dead, sir," began Thomas with the bad
news.  "All major systems offline including navigation and helm.
Shuttlebay has decompressed and exploded.  Shields have
collapsed, engineering is silent."
     "Warning," began the computer, "antimatter containment
losing integrity, five minutes to automatic shutdown.  Warning,
automatic shutdown of anitmatter chamber has failed."
     It never rains, but pours thought Riker.
     "Wesley, Thomas, get to Engineering and see if you can help.
If we can't dump the core in five minutes were all dead," said
Riker.

     "What's her condition, Commander," said Kirk as the
Enterprise completed its maneuver and raced away from the Romulan
ship.
     "Direct hits, sir.  But it appears that the Romulans are
still battle ready.  Her cloaking device is offline though, she
won't sneak up on us anymore," completed Mitchell.
     "Lieutenant, are communications back on line," asked Kirk to
his temporary communications officer.
     "Negative, sir.  Engineering reports communications will be
offline for some time now," reported Pierson.
     "Helm, bring us around to bear on the Romulans.  Approach
nice and slow, let's see how badly we've hurt her," ordered Kirk,
as he relaxed back in his command seat.
     "Aye, sir, coming around to 213 mark 189, half impulse,"
replied Peter.

     Wesley and Thomas fought their way down to engineering
through broken turbolifts and shattered bulkheads.  As Wesley
walked with this man, he realized why he had never liked him
since he came on board.  This wasn't his William T. Riker, the
man he respected and admired so much.  This was a gross
perversion of that man.  A possible Riker that was never meant to
be.  Thomas was the aggressive, risk taking man that Will once
was but had learned wisely to curb.  Will had made the sacrifices
to his career and to his relationship with Deanna to stay aboard
a ship with people he could call his friends.  Before serving on
the Enterprise, Will had never made many friends.  He was always
looking on to the next promotion and the next assignment on his
way to the captaincy.  That was the man Thomas Riker was.  Will
had learned the value of friendship and duty and had become a man
that Wesley had admired and respected, and most of all, called a
friend.
     As they approached the door leading into engineering, they
noticed that it wasn't going to open, like half the other doors
on the now crippled ship.  The two of them combined managed to
pry open the doors and remove the debris blocking the entrance
from the other side.  As they progressed through the area they
saw Gabriel Orleans off to one corner attempting to lift a
bulkhead off of an injured crewmember.  Thomas rushed to his aide
while Wesley tryed to get a nearby terminal online.  Both men
managed to remove the immense piece of metal and get the fallen
crewmember to a nearby medic for treatment.  With that done,
Orleans and Riker joined Wesley to see how bad the damage was.
     "Well, tell me what you've got, son," said Orleans
paternally to the academy graduate.
     "It doesn't look good, sir," returned Wesley, "most of the
connectors to the auto shutdown have been destroyed and I don't
know if there's enough power to transfer to the remaining
circuits."
     "Then we'll just have to do it the old fashioned way,"
grinned Orleans, ready to get to work.
     "Sir, there are two hundred circuit pathways leading to the
reactor core with over six junction boxes where they are rerouted
through, we have less than four minutes," pleaded Crusher.
     "Then let's get to it," supplied Gabriel and proceeded to
open a bulkhead to get at the computer systems behind it.
     Wesley accepted the inevitable and began working with him in
a futile gesture.  He looked around for Thomas to ask for his
help, but the tactical officer had dissappeared.

     Captain William T. Riker sat in his command chair, alone on
his bridge, intently gazing at the viewscreen.  He had lost, and
he knew it.  All those years he had strived and worked hard to
get to the big seat for this.  On the Enterprise, he had
postponed his promotion indefinitely.  He had wondered at the
time if he was scared of the captain's chair, but Deanna had
reminded him that he was happy and that was the reason he had
stayed.  Now he began to understand his apprehension.   Will was
destined to die as captain of a starship, and that's why he had
resisted promotion.  After all these years, to perish on his
first mission to a man who by all rights should not exist.  Borg
technology or not, James Kirk was the greatest starship captain
of all time and he was proud to have failed to the best.
     These thoughts and more floated through his mind as he sat
and awaited his fate, his gaze fixed on the viewscreen and a
Federation starship moving in slowly for the kill.  His ship was
no match for the Enterprise-A now but he knew that the Borg would
make it appear that he was battleworthy and ready to fire.  It
seemed fitting that he should be defeated by the Enterprise.  The
ship that he had served on for years and never found any reason
to leave should finally seek her revenge on his departure.  He
now realized that he belonged on the Enterprise, no other ship
would ever replace her.  That was why he had never left all those
years.  There was something special about a ship with that name.
He had failed to heed its warning and the cost would be his life.
     "Captain," said Thomas from behind the command chair.
     "Yes, Thomas," said Will, using his first name for the first
time, also surprised that Thomas had addressed him as captain,
that point of subject being a sore spot between them.
     "Mr. Orleans isn't going to be able to repair the damage.
The ship is lost, we must evacuate," said Thomas calmly,
attempting to reason with his alter self.  He had seen that
expression on Will many times before in the mirror and knew what
the captain was planning.  He wasn't sure if he would have done
the same in his place, losing a starship on its first mission, a
starship command both had strived for all their lives.
     "Warning, one minute to antimatter containment failure,"
droned the computer over the intercom.
     "All hands, this is the captain," began Will solemnly into
the communicator in his chair, "Implement emergency evacuation
plan B, all crews to your escape pods," Will began to close the
commlink when he realized there was something he wanted to say,
"I'm proud to have served with you, good luck," Will finished,
the tone of his voice indicating an apology over his failure.  He
realized that the crew looked up to him as a hero and he was sad
that he had to show them he was human.
     "Sir," began Thomas.
     "Take care of Deanna.  You two belong together.  She
shouldn't have to suffer for my mistakes anymore," replied
Thomas.
     Thomas began to reach for his phaser but Will had already
thought of that as he turned and fired his weapon.  Thomas
collapsed under the stun setting to the deck.  Will picked him up
and dragged him to the nearest escape pod.  Placing Thomas
inside, he made sure that all the systems were operating and
closed the hatch.
     "Goodbye, brother," said Will and engaged the firing
sequence dispatching the pod safely away.
     Will returned to his seat and sat down for the last time.
The last time not seeming as comforting as the first time he sat
in his chair.  "Goodbye, Imzadi," said Riker thoughtfully, glad
that he had made the right decision in the end.


     "Will," said Deanna in distress, feeling her imzadi calling
her.  Picard glanced over at her but was interrupted before he
could do any more.
     "Approaching neutral zone, Captain," reported Data from Ops.
     "Slow to impulse power," replied Jean-Luc Picard.
     "Captain, sensors indicate two starships as well as evidence
of massive weapons fire," said Data quizically, or at least his
impression of that inflection.
     "Identify," asked Picard.
     "One Alaska class battle cruiser and one Enterprise class
heavy crusier," supplied Data.
     "Kirk and Will," said Picard under his breath.
     "Proceed to those coordinates, Lieutenant," ordered Picard
to Ro Laren at helm.
     "Aye, sir," returned Ro, manipulating her controls to carry
out her orders.
     The Enterprise-D moved towards the battle under full impulse
power like an angel to the rescue.


     "Its no use, Commander," shouted Wesley over the noise
caused by the overloading reactor chamber.
     "Your right, son," replied Gabriel with a disconsolate
expression on his face, saddened by his failure to avoid the
inevitable.  "Let's get to the escape pod."
     "Warning thirty seconds to antimatter containment failure,"
said the computer confirming the situation.
     Wesley found an intact escape pod and discovered that it had
been damaged in the attack.  He looked around and found that
there was only one escape pod left, an emergency one that could
only house vital equipment or a tightly packed individual.
Wesley made the decision to leave this one for Gabriel while he
attempted to find another when he was shoved from behind into the
pod, the door closing behind him.
     "There's no time for you to find another one.  Besides, the
young should always leave the old behind.  I'm proud of you son,
you showed your worth under pressure, you'll make a fine
officer," Gabriel closed the commlink and ejected the pod to
safety over the shouting Lieutenant pleading for Gabe to open the
pod.

     "Captain, massive energy buildup being registered by the
Romulans," announced Miranda from the science station.
     "Analysis," replied Kirk to his friend's daughter.
     "Sir, they're building up to fire," deduced Mitchell.
     "Playing dead to lure us in," muttered Kirk momentarily
under his breath.
     "Commander, fire photon torpedoes," ordered Kirk, trying to
save his ship from the impending attack.
     Two photon torpedoes launched from the Enterprise racing
towards their target like fireballs out of hell.

     The Enterprise closed to within visual range of the two
ships facing each other off.
     "Captain, the Enterprise class ship is firing," reported
Data.
     Picard looked on helplessly at the viewscreen as two photon
torpedoes ripped into his friends ship.  The ship buckled and
imploded under the barrage, exposing huge chunks of the ship to
space.
     "Transporter room, beam anybody off that ship," cried
Picard, knowing that it was too late.
     The ship performed a death dance.  Without structural
intergrity, the Alaska twisted and turned under the stress.  The
warp nacelles snapped clean off of the ship, the saucer section
warped and cracked into two.  At that moment the antimatter
containment failed and the ship erupted, blazing the dark night
sky as the USS Alaska rejoined the universe from which it came.
     "Will," muttered Picard, slumping back into his seat,
Deanna's soft sobbing overtaking his thoughts as he leaned over
to embrace the distressed counselor.
     All over the bridge, the crew made their peace with their
lost friend.  Worf remained silent, taking his death as a
warrior.  Later when he was in his quarters he would scream to
the heavens, indicating to the netherworld that a warrior had
come.  Lt. Ro looked on in shock at the death of a man she had
never made total peace with.  After their brief affair, she had
never given up hope that the two of them might make something in
the future.  Now she realized that that was impossible and
returned her gaze to her console, masking her features with her
characteristic Bajoran defiance.  Data looked inward, or analyzed
his subprocessors, noticing that his systems were not functioning
at one hundred percent efficiency.  Something had caused him to
experience a slowing down of all of his systems, a phenomenon he
hadn't experienced since the death of Tasha Yar.  Once more, Data
experienced death, but this time seemed different.
     The crew stood in a state of shock, until Picard finally
collected himself and realized what he had to do.
     "Data, engage that ship, Worf prepare to fire."  For once
Picard didn't feel like resolving the situation peacefully, he
wanted revenge and he would have Kirk's blood.

     The Borg were victorious again.  The Borg collective paused
for a moment to relish in the satisfaction of victory, an
adaptation they had acquired from the Klingons.  The human,
Riker, was defeated.  They had avenged the deaths of their
brethren from seven years past.  Now the Borg set their thoughts
on Picard.  His ship, the Enterprise-D was approaching their
trap.  With revenge out of the way, they now sought retribution.
They meant to ressurect their brother Locutus and return him to
the collective where he belonged.  Nothing would stop the Borg,
Kirk would see to that.

     "Captain," interjected Data amongst the sorrow and growing
belligerence of the crew, "sensors are detecting numerous escape
pods in the vicinity."
     Picard awoke from his rage and attempted to regain control
of himself and his feelings.  Anger was the worst thing a
starship commander could allow himself to feel.  It blinded one
from the facts and invited inevitable destruction.  Composing
himself, Picard replied to his operations officer.  "Life signs."
     "Fifty-nine," replied Data.
     "That's all," muttered Picard in shock.
     "Yes, sir," returned the android.
     "Picard to transporter room, we have detected survivors.
Transport all escape pods to the cargo bays.  Doctor Crusher,
prepare for medical emergency in Cargo Bays 5 through 12."
     "Lieutenant, maintain position until all escape pods have
been brought on board," reminded Picard.
     "Aye, sir," said Ro.

     The transporters energized once more and another survivor
was freed from the cage of his escape pod.  As the nurse escorted
the officer to sickbay, Doctor Crusher decided to handle the next
survivor personally.  This was the last escape pod, it must have
been jettisoned shortly before the Alaska was destroyed, thought
Beverly.  This patient was probably pretty banged up from the
shock waves.  The transporter beam engaged once more and the last
escape pod materialized on the platform.  Beverly quickly went to
open the pod, silently wishing that one of the five dozen pods
had saved her son's life.  She opened the hatch and was overcome
with joy at seeing Wesley's face smiling back at her.
     "Hi, Mom," said the young officer, relieved to discover it
was the Enterprise and not the Borg that had saved him.
     "Wes," cryed Beverly as she hugged her son tightly.
     "We'd better get you to sickbay," realized the doctor in her
as she began moving her son towards a stretcher.
     "No, Mom I'm all right," said Wesley.  Seeing the
determination in his mother's eyes he quickly added, "I've got to
talk to Captain Picard right away."
     Beverly thought about it for a moment until she finally
relented, realizing the urgency in her son's voice.
     "All right, but after your done I want you to report
directly to sickbay, that's an order," said Doctor Crusher.
     "Yes, maam," replied Wesley cynically and raced off to the
bridge.
     "So much like his father," remarked Beverly under her
breath.  That was what worried her the most.


     "Sensors indicate a new ship entering this sector," reported
Miranda Mitchell.
     "Identity," said Kirk under his breath, almost wishing he
didn't already know what type of ship it was.
     "Hull patterns conform to a Romulan design, sir," replied
Mitchell to Kirk's question.
     More killing, Kirk thought, how many more would die.  He had
attempted to disable the weapons systems on the last Romulan
warship before she could fire, but their attack had destroyed the
enemy ship rather than cripple her.  If the Romulans were in that
bad of shape they would have committed self-destruction anyway
rather than risk capture, but that didn't ease Kirk's conscience
much.  He had killed once again and Kirk was beginning to tire of
it.  After finally resolving his difficulties with the Klingons
and advocating peace with a people he had mistrusted his entire
life, it was difficult to begin killing Romulans anew.
     Kirk had seen enough killing in his life and would have
stayed on as captain of a starship till he died if he could have
been guaranteed exploratory missions and not routine patrol along
the neutral zone which invited trouble.  That's why the Romulans
always risked war to engage his vessel.  The Romulans were a
people who thought that they were superior and destined to expand
their domain forever.   But they were a cautious people too and
would never enter into a war unless they were convinced they
could win.  The heroism and exploits of Jim Kirk had left doubt
in the Romulans' minds of their superiority.  If they could
defeat him, then they would know that they were the best.  As
long as he remained undefeated, there would be peace between the
Romulans and the Federation, or so he thought.  Now with war, his
defeat was more important than ever.  As long as he lived, he
knew that the Romulans would be unsure of their chances in this
war.  His death would give them the confidence to march unimpeded
to their destiny.  That was why he would not be defeated.  That
was why he had had to kill so many Romulans.
     Look at it this way, Kirk, Jim thought privately.  If you've
had no trouble with these guys, think how quickly this war will
be over.  He tried to convince himself that that was true, but
failed miserably.  James Kirk was fighting a war he did not want
to fight but one that he could not afford to lose for the sake of
the entire Federation.  That was the situation he faced as yet
another Romulan warship made its challenge.
     "Status of the Romulan ship," requested the captain.
     "She is monitoring the wreckage of her sister ship, Captain.
Probably attempting to discern what happened to her and salvage
any intact equipment," suggested his science officer.
     "Does she see us," questioned Kirk.
     "Probably, but the energy discharge from the explosion may
be blinding her sensors.  If the Romulans do not detect us, they
will surely penetrate the distortion within a matter of minutes."
Miranda swiveled around in her seat to face her captain.  "Sir,
this might prove to be a valuable opportunity.  If we can
approach her with her sensors blinded, we might be able to launch
a preemptive strike and cripple the Romulan ship before she can
return fire."
     "Are you advocating, Commander, that we take the iniative
and fire without any sign of hostilities from the other ship?"
said Kirk in disbelief.
     "Sir, we are in a state of war.  When the Romulans detect
us, they will surely attack," Miranda paused to change tactics,
"Captain, we will save lives by firing first.  Not only the lives
of our crew, but the Romulans we let survive by only disabling
her vessel instead of being forced to destroy her."
     The attack had come, the question posed and all the eyes of
the bridge crew watched their captain for his reaction.  Kirk
thought over the decision.  His first officer's advice made
sense.  They were in a state of war and any action over than the
complete destruction of the enemy would be deemed merciful.  But
were they fighting?  Besides McCoy's word, he had recieved no
official report stating that there really existed a state of war.
As far as Jim was concerned, he was recieving written orders from
an Admiral back on Earth that could be totally fabricated.  But
if they were forced to fight he would have no choice but to
destroy them.  NO!  The day he allowed the possibility of
something that had not happened yet to force him to action was
the day he would resign.  He would not risk lives unless he was
forced into a situation to defend himself.  Starfleet was about
defending the peace, not attacking without provocation.
     "Peter, maintain position and alert if the Romulans give any
indication of movement.  Continue red alert, all hands remain at
battlestations," Kirk ordered.
     "Commander Mitchell, you have the conn," said Kirk as he
left his command chair and entered the turbolift.  Jim pushed the
button that would take him to his quarters and sagged against the
wall, weary from the past few days.  It seemed they were in a
battle every other hour and the stress was beginning to take its
toll on him.  Used to be he could go two days straight without
sleep, then again he used to be able carry on a few love affairs
and still save the universe in a single day.  The galaxy wasn't
what it used to be, sighed Kirk, and neither was he.

     Wesley Crusher stepped onto the bridge of the Enterprise in
amazement.  He didn't realize how long it had been since he'd
been on board, or how much this ship meant to him, until now.
The thrill at being on the flagship of the Federaton had not
diminished any and Wesley was eager to see the people that he had
served with for the better part of four years.
     "Lieutenant, I'm glad to see that you survived the battle,"
said Data in his android voice.  Most people wouldn't have caught
it, but Wesley sensed the warmth behind the message.  Data was
capable of more emotion than most humans displayed, thought
Wesley.  He only wished the android would realize that one day.
Commander Data was occupying the captain's chair with Deanna Troi
noticeably absent from her seat.  He couldn't imagine how hurt
she must be right now.  He only knew that their was a job to do
and he wouldn't feel the pain of losing Captain Riker until this
was all over.
     "Commander, I need to speak to the Captain right away," said
Wesley anxiously.
     "He is in his ready room," replied Data absently, intently
gazing at the viewscreen and the distant image of one of the
Enterprise's predecessors.

     "Well, Commander, I'm sure you'll do a fine job," said
Picard, "and congratulations once more, I only wish the
circumstances were less critical."
     "Understood, Captain.  I only regret that Captain Riker
could not be here to share in this," said the officer in the gold
colored uniform.
     Picard felt the loss of his friend once more and wished that
he could have done something to change his friend's fate.  It
saddened him to know that Will's long awaited starship command
proved to be his tomb on his first mission.  He was a fine
officer, and a fine man who deserved better.  Now he would go
down as the great starship captain who never was.
     The door chimed and Picard greeted that sound with his
characteristic monosyllabic answer.
     Wesley Crusher entered and nearly collapsed from shock.
Staring at him was the image of a man who shouln't be here and
then his senses caught up to him and he realized that he wasn't
seeing a ghost.
     "Lieutenant, I'm glad to see you made it out in one piece,"
answered the officer, aware of his junior's distress.
     "Yes, sir, me too," stammered Wesley, regaining control of
himself.  "Am I interrupting something, sir," he asked the
captain.
     "No not at all, I was just finalizing a decision I have
considered for a while now.  Lieutenant, may I present our new
first officer, Lt. Commander Thomas Riker."

     "Did you have something to offer, Lieutenant, besides your
services I suspect," continued Picard.
     "Yes, sir.  While I served as helmsman aboard the Alaska, we
engaged the Enterprise-A, under the command of Captain James T.
Kirk," began Crusher.
     "Yes, Starfleet has made me aware of your mission, is there
anything you can offer that will assist in our defense to this
threat," said Picard.
     "Yes, sir," added Wesley, "The Borg have modified the
Enterprise-A's shielding and weaponry.  Its still Federaton
based, but it is markedly superior to her conventional payload
and surpasses our own technology."
     "I see, that is very helpful," thought Jean-Luc, already
planning a strategy, "I'm sure Doctor Crusher has requested your
presence in sickbay so I won't delay you any longer."
     "She called you, didn't she, sir," suspected Wesley.
     "Let's just say a little bird told me.  Dismissed,
Lieutenant," said Picard lightheartedly.
     "Aye, sir," replied Wesley with less enthusiasm as he turned
an exited the ready room.
     Wesley emerged onto the bridge and walked up to the
turbolift at the back of the bridge with a deliberately slow
pace.
     "Is there something wrong, Wesley," remarked Data as he rose
from the command chair.
     "I've been ordered to bed," returned Wesley without breaking
stride.
     "Pleasant dreams," chirped Data as Wesley stepped into the
turbolift and the doors closed behind him.
     Moments later Captain Jean-Luc Picard and his new first
officer Lt. Commander Thomas Riker entered the bridge.
     "May I have your attention for a moment," said the captain
to his bridge crew who immediately focused on their commanding
officer.
     "Due to the vacancy in the position and our current
situaton, as of 1830 hours I hereby promote Lt. Commander Thomas
Riker to acting first officer of the Enterprise," finished
Picard.
     The crew looked on in nervous approval, slightly disturbed
that the image of their dead friend would be serving with them.
Had Deanna been on the bridge, she would have said the crew
needed more time to adjust after just experiencing the death of a
former crewmember and she might have pointed out that having
Thomas at Picard's side allowed the captain to pretend that
nothing had ever happened.  But the counselor was still in her
quarters dealing with her pain and not around to offer her
advice.
     After a few moments of uneasy silence, Data arose from the
command seat and greeted his new superior, "Congratulations,
Commander, I look forward to serving with you," then he moved
towards his seat at ops and paused a moment before sitting down.
If one didn't know better, they would have thought the android
was feeling an injury to his pride for being passed up on
promotion, but noone noticed the pause in Data's movement.
     "I know this will be difficult to adjust to," began the
captain, sensing the uneasiness of the situation, "but I'm sure
you'll adapt after circumstances are less urgent.  For now, we
have a job to do."
     "Mr. Worf, go to red alert.  Lieutenant Ro, move us in, full
impulse power," said Picard as he sat down in his seat with his
new first officer beside him.
     The USS Enterprise-D was whole again, with Wesley Crusher
back aboard and a Riker as first officer.  The flagship of the
Federation, pride of the Starfleet, prepared to meet her destiny
with the recreated Enterprise-A under the command of the
legendary
James T. Kirk.  The Battle of the Ages was about to begin.


     "Captain to the bridge," said Lt. Cmdr. Kirk's voice over
the intercom.
     Kirk shot up from his chair in his quarters and made for the
door, leaving the computer on in his room, still running Jim's
last  command.  Kirk headed for the nearest turbolift and ordered
the machine to the bridge.  Well, it was about to happen, he
thought.  The feeling had been overwhelming as of late and Jim
knew that his end was near.  He had dismissed his premonitions as
nervousness and the uneasiness of commanding a starship without
the same crew he had served with for years.  Space didn't welcome
him as it used to, in fact, the emptiness of the void seem to
reject his presence after all those years of acceptance.  He had
always known he would die alone, and that was why he had doubted
what he now knew to be true.  That was the one thing in the
universe he thought he could always count on.  Even a forty year
space veteran can misread the signs in the stars sometimes.
     The lift doors parted and Kirk made his way to his seat,
which was being exited by Commander Mitchell at that very moment.
     "Status," snapped Kirk, mentally preparing himself to
assimilate all the information he was about to be given into a
coherent strategy.
     "Romulan warship has powered up her engines and weapons and
is moving towards us," reported Miranda as she took her place at
the science station.
     "Time to intercept," asked Kirk.
     "Two minutes . . . mark," said Peter at the helm.
     "Mr. Pierson," began Kirk, readying himself for any
resistance his communications officer would show, "hail the
Romulans."
     "No reply, sir," said Pierson with unusual obedience.
     Kirk smiled, relieved that his several talks with Lt.
Pierson had changed the officer's attitude finally.
     "Red alert," ordered the captain, "raise shields, energize
phaser banks, load forward torpedo bays."
     "Aye, sir," replied the officers whose job it was to carry
out the orders.
     "Ahead one half impulse power," Kirk ordered.
     The Enterprise-A now moved towards its counterpart, both
ships loaded to bear and ready to fire.


     The Borg monitored the two ships as they moved towards each
other.  There was a 23% probability that the Enterprise-A would
not survive the encounter.  The Borg payed little attention to
this fact because there was also a 95% probability that if the
Enterprise-A was defeated, the Enterprise-D would suffer heavy
casualties and the Borg would finish them off themselves.  Either
way, the Borg would be victorious.  To minimize the amount of
Borg resources used in case the Enterprise-D did succeed, the
Borg increased their energy transmissions, repairing the damage
taken on by the human Kirk's ship after its battle with the human
Riker.


     "Captain, sensors are detecting elevated levels of neutrino
activity in the area," reported Data from his station at Ops.
     "Can you locate the source of the disruption," asked Picard.
     "There is a great deal of interference in this sector,
Captain, it will take some time before the sensors can lock on to
its point of origin.  The interference is similar to the type we
have detected with our encounters with the Borg," replied Data
cooly.
     "Keep at it, Mr. Data, if there's a Borg ship out there I
want to know where it is."
     "Captain," alerted Worf, "I am unable to scan the other ship
due to Borg interference."
     "Great," said Thomas, "we don't even know what she's
carrying or how badly we hurt her."
     "Mr. Worf, is the Borg interference jamming our
communications," asked Picard.
     "Yes, sir," replied Worf.
     "Then we have no choice," said Thomas, "Sir, we must
attack."
     Picard looked at his new first officer with an expression of
discontent.  He hated firing on another ship before
commuincations could be attempted but it seemed he was being left
no choice.  He did not want Kirk dead anymore.  He now realized
it was the Borg whom he wanted revenge with and not some innocent
pawn.  He had been used by the Borg too once, and he wanted to
hurt them more than anyone could imagine.
     "Mr. Worf, fire phasers, try to disable their engines,"
ordered the captain.
     "Firing phasers," reported Worf as he depressed the red key
on his panel.
     The phaser beam lanced out at the Enterprise-A impacting the
starboard warp nacelle with vicious intensity.
     "No damage," reported Worf after the firing sequence had
stopped.
     "Lock topedoes on target," tried Picard again.
     The ship shuddered violently under the impact of a modified
phaser attack by the other Enterprise.
     "Damage report," said Picard.
     "Direct hit by her phasers, shields down to 68 percent,
torpedoes locked on target," reported Worf briskly.
     "Fire," sounded Picard's voice over the bridge.
     Three photon torpedoes lashed out at the Enterprise-A and
smashed into her forward shields in three separate points on her
primary hull.  The ship listed for a moment and then righted
herself after some effort.  The torpedo bays of the Enterprise-A
glowed a shining red as they prepared to return the favor.

     "Damage report," shouted Kirk over the deafening impact of
three photon torpedoes smashing into his ship.
     "Moderate damage on all decks in the primary hull, shields
still holding," reported Miranda Mitchell.  The ship had been
damaged more than the Borg originally estimated.  They increased
their transmissions to maintain the structural integrity of the
damaged vessel.
     "Are my torpedoes ready," asked Kirk.
     "Aye, sir," answered the crewman.
     "Fire," ordered Kirk.

     "Incoming weapons fire," reported Data, recognizing the
imminent attack.
     "Evasive," shouted Picard, knowing his command was probably
too late.
     The Enterprise began moving to starboard and as a result
caught two high energy photon torpedoes on its port side.  The
ship was knocked off its course and rolled even more to starboard
as the crew fought to maintain course.  The impact momentarily
crippled the shields leaving a black scar on the neck of the
starship.
     The crew were thrown from their stations by the attack,
tumbling across the deck.  Picard was the first to recover and
promptly took his seat to ascertain the damage to his ship.
     "Damage report," queried Jean-Luc.
     "Major damage to decks fifteen through twenty-six.  Weapon
systems offline, rerouting circuit pathways to compensate.
Engineering reports warp engines temporarily offine, shields down
to 48 percent."
     "Picard to Engineering, Mr. LaForge, how long till you can
restore warp power," asked the captain.
     "LaForge here, Captain.  I can have warp power in a few
minutes," reported Geordi over the intercom.
     "Make it so with all deliberate speed," said the captain,
adding a twist to his usual remark.
     "Captain, reading increased neutrino activity, sensors are
now able to locate the general area of the source of the
transmissions.  They seem to be directed towards the Enterprise-
A, possibly transferring power between the two ships," reported
Data.
     "Data, can we jam these transmissions," asked
Thomas to his superior officer.  He still wasn't used to the idea
of taking orders from a machine.
     "It is a possibility," began the android officer, ignoring
the breach of protocol, "if we release high energy particles into
the surrounding space, it could impair their transmissions and
sever all contact.  But Captain, these particles are highly
unstable and weapons fire could energize them to the point of
critical instability.  Space itself would explode."
     The bridge became deathly silent as all around awaited the
decision of the captain.  This was one of those times where the
admiration of the crew for Jean-Luc Picard increased ten fold
since none of them would want to make the choice he was about to
declare.
     After a moment of silence, Picard reached a decision, "Lt.
Ro, set a course for the source of those transmissions, full
impulse power.  Mr. Data, standby to impliment your plan."
     A chorus of "Aye, sirs" rang out and the Enterprise moved
towards the cloaked Borg ship.

     The Borg watched the Federation starship approach their
position.  The cloaking device was functioning with 99.4 percent
efficiency and even now Borg units were working on correcting the
point six percent failure.  There was a 72.9 percent probability
that their power transmissions had exceeded their cloaking
ability and the Enterprise was able to detect them.   This far
exceeded the possibility of their course being a coincidence.
With the odds this high, the Borg concluded that their identity
had been suspected, but not yet proven.  As long as the
communications interference continued, noone else would be
alerted to their involvement.  With careful calculation, the Borg
unimind decided to alter their plans and ensure their secrecy in
this operation.  If the Enterprise were to approach within five
kilometers, the Borg would destroy the Enterprise themselves and
minimize the damage.
Every attempt would be made to capture the ship intact, but there
was a 68 percent probability that Locutus would be sacrificed to
maintain the integrity of their plans.  The Borg collective
decided on a course of action.  The Borg had prepared for every
possible outcome and their success was ensured 95.6 percent of
the time.  The plan would be preserved, the Borg would be
victorious.

     "Captain, she's moving off," reported Peter Kirk at the
helm.
     "Stay with her, Commander," replied Kirk, "let's see what
she's up to."
     The uncle and nephew starship team commanded their ship to
its fate.  The USS Enterprise NCC 1701-A pursued its descendant
towards the hidden Borg ship.

     "Captain, the Enterprise-A is giving pursuit, closing
rapidly," reported Worf from his post at tactical.
     "Put us between the Borg and Kirk, Lieutenant," encouraged
Picard to his Bajoran helmsman, "Give us some distance, we don't
want the Borg to know we detect them."
     "Aye, sir," replied Ro, wondering if the captain would
nursemaid her through the entire maneuver.
     "Captain, we are now within range," reported Data.
     "Begin high energy particle dispersal, wide range aft,"
replied Picard.
     The Enterprise began casually seeding space with the potent
weapon.

     The Borg observed the Enterprise close within five
kilometers of their present position.  They made the decision to
attack.  The Klingon in the spokesman of the Borg cried out for
blood in anticipation of battle while the Borg half commanded the
deactivation of the cloaking device and the arming of all
weapons.

     Lights began flickering on and off all over the bridge,
consoles lit up and went dark sporadically and James Kirk was
helpless to do anything.
     "Commander, what's happening," asked Kirk to his science
officer.
     "Unknown, sir," replied Miranda Mitchell from her station.
"Sensors show that the Romulans released a high energy compound
of a kind I have never seen before.  Approximately two seconds
later our onboard systems began to fail."
     "Are you saying the Romulans are behind this," said Kirk in
shock at the chaos all around him.
     "It sure looks like it," returned Miranda.
     Kirk was caught off guard for a moment at the casualness of
the answer.  Working with a Vulcan for so many years he was used
to measures of probability and percentages, not straight forward
statements.
     Kirk realized he had only seconds to act before his ship
became totally helpless and vulnerable to the Romulans.
     "Peter, target all weapons on that Romulan ship, phasers and
torpedoes," said Kirk, understanding that he had only one shot.
That much weapons fire would severely drain the ship and leave
their shields in a very vulnerable state to enemy attack.  It was
now or never.
     "Target acquired, weapons locked on," said Peter grimly,
realizing the implications of the command from his uncle, and
giving him his silent support.
     "Fire," ordered Kirk, praying to God that the weapons still
worked.
     Peter depressed the firing control and released the massive
barrage of destruction.

     "Captain, massive power buildup detected from the
Enterprise-A," reported Data.
     "Mr. Worf, lock phasers and photon torpedoes on target and
fire!" ordered Picard.
     The Enterprise-D unloaded its weaponry on its opponent at
the exact same moment.

     Photon torpedoes and phaser beams streaked across the
heavens to their designated targets, preparing to unleash their
destructive force on the opposing ship.  Two photon torpedoes
struck the Enterprise-A on her secondary hull, one on the side
and another on the neck of the starship.  The ship bled like a
giant whale, sending sparks and an ion trail from the gash in her
neck while the second torpedo punctured the secondary hull and
exposed four decks to space.  The Enterprise-D's phaser beams
sliced into the primary hull, digging a huge gash into the side
of the ship.  Without the Borg's power feed, the ship was on its
normal shielding, and Kirk's weapons fire had weakened them to
the point that they cracked under the assault.
     The Enterprise-D took three more photon torpedo hits, two on
the primary hull and one that punctured the ships shielding and
ripped right through the main deflector dish, taking a good chunk
of the secondary hull with it.  The other two torpedoes impacted
on the Enterprise's weak shields and with one scraping the hull,
digging a gash the length of the port side.  Her phaser beams
were only on half power and knocked out the starboard warp
nacelle without detonating it.  The two ships took on massive
damage, both essentially powerless to wage battle.

     Jean-Luc Picard had been thrown from his chair by the attack
as well as the rest of the bridge crew.  He arose slowly and
began to survey the damage, both to his ship and his body.
Commander Data had also been knocked out of his seat by another
object, the object being the crumpled body of Ro Laren.  Picard
went to her aide and after glancing at ther briefly, determined
that she was going to make it.
     "Picard to sickbay, med teams to the bridge," he said into
his communicator, not bothering to await a reply from the
udoubtedly busy medical staff.
     Data resumed his position at ops and worked frantically to
get the viewscreen back online.  He was successful and after a
few moments, a view of the stars returned in front of them.
     Picard began to turn around and determine the extent of the
damage to the ship when he was alerted by his second officer.
     "Captain, on the viewscreen," said Data without the aide of
his disabled sensors.
     The viewscreen showed an image of a ship that Picard thought
he would never have to face again.  A large cubic shaped ship
decloaked on the viewscreen and stared them down.  Picard stared
at a Borg ship with the Enterprise totally defenseless.  They
would get him again and Locutus would live again.  The nightmare
he had dreamed for several years would soon become a reality and
a living hell.
The Borg cutter beam activated and shot out towards them.  Picard
averted his eyes as the beam struck the mass of high energy
particles and space before him exploded in a brilliant blaze of
light.
     The Enterprise was rocked backward by the shockwaves and the
crew was once again thrown off their feet as the ship slowly came
to a stop, the emergency thrusters countering her inertia.
Picard looked forward once more and saw a sight that brought a
smile to his face.  The Borg ship had been totally decimated by
the explosion.  Over 50 percent of its mass had been changed to
raw destructive energy and only a hollow shell remained of the
once mighty warship.  Picard allowed himself a slight chuckle at
the irony of the Borg's own weaponry being the means of their
destruction.  Well, that was one less ship to worry about as
Picard turned his attention to the other threat.
     Thomas had recovered by now and noticed the motionless form
of Lieutenant Laren as two medical personnel exited off the
turbolift and went to her aide.  He knew that something had
happened between her and Will but none of the details.  Finding
his communicator still attached to his uniform, Riker used it to
summon her replacement.
     "Lt. Crusher to the bridge."
     Meanwhile, Picard had moved over to ops and was leaning over
Data's shoulder, looking at the display on the console.
     "Is there anyway we can ascertain her position without
sensors, visual telemetry perhaps," queried Picard.
     "Attempting visual search," said Data, carrying out his
captain's plan.
     "Visual confirmation, sir," responded Data, forwarding the
image to the viewscreen.
     "Well," said Picard after assessing her battle damage, "at
least she didn't get away cleanly."
     "Mr. Worf, damage report," said Riker.
     "Shields are down, damage to all decks.  Warp speed and
weapons systems are offline.  Approximately 500 casualties,
medical temas responding throughout the ship," reported Worf
gravely.
     Picard didn't even want to know how many of those casualties
were fatalities, the number alone was repulsive to him.  Damned
sloppy, thought Picard, there must have been some way you could
have handled that better.
     "Can we establish communications with the Enterprise-A,"
asked Picard.
     "Yes, sir, communications systems are undamaged," reported
Worf.
     "Make it so," said Picard, preparing to face a man who
shouldn't exist.

     James Kirk slowly awoke from his unconscious state.  He rose
up to a kneeling position and gazed around him at the debris that
used to be his bridge.  Panels had blown out all over the place
and wreckage was littered over the floor.  As he stood up he
noticed the uneasy quiet that enveloped the bridge and looked
around to notice that there was noone present.  His crew had
vanished and there was no sign that they had ever existed.  James
Kirk was alone.
     Now everything made sense.  His premonitons of doom and the
feeling that his end was near were correct.  James Kirk had been
alone, deceived by someone to believe he was on board a
Federation starship.  For that matter, they could have tricked
him into  believing he was attacking Romulans when he could have
been attacking thin air or even other ships, possibly Federation
ships.  Who would have the power to do this, thought Kirk.  The
Talosians maybe?  They certainly had the power to create the
illusions that Kirk had witnessed, but what purpose would they
have in performing this masquerade?
     As Jim thought about this he realized that his nephew had
never been on board.  That was one part of the illusion he was
glad to have participated in.  It had been good to have the
closest thing he could call family with him until the end.  But
then, if these were all illusions than that meant Spock and Sulu
and even Chekov were still alive!  Kirk's heart rejoiced at this
news, glad to know that his friends had not died after all and
that he was not the instrument of their destruction.  While Jim
contemplated this good news, his eyes fell on the still
functioning viewscreen and his gaze locked on to a sight he had
never seen before in his life.  On the viewscreen was the
mutilated form of a Borg ship.  From what Jim could figure out,
the ship appeared to be cubical in design before it had suffered
some kind of battle damage.  It was possible that these beings
had been the ones Kirk had been attacking or even those
responsible for his kidnapping.  Kirk began to scan the image
ahead for any signs of other starships when a message began
breaking in and snapped to crystal clarity in another second.
     On the screen was the face of a human in uniforms that
resembled Starfleet issue, but of a kind he had seen only once
before.  He now knew that those Romulans he had destroyed earlier
had not been Romulans after all and that the transmission he had
recieved had been genuine.  He had caused the sensless deaths of
innocent lives and his heart plunged into dispair as the true
magnitude of the destruction he had wrought became known.
     "I am Captain Jean-Luc Picard of the Federation starship
Enterprise," began the bald man," NCC-1701. . .D."
     Kirk looked on in shock and began to formulate a reply as he
digested this new information in.
     "I. . .am Captain James T. Kirk," replied the other.
     "It is an honor to meet you, sir," said Picard gracefully,
"I know how much of a shock this must be, but you must listen to
me.  You are now in the 24th century.  Your body was
cryogenically frozen and you have been brought to life by a
hostile race of beings known as the Borg.  They meant to use you
to further their goals of the annihilation of the Federation.
That ship, you see on your monitor, is the remains of a Borg
vessel that we were finally able to neutralize."
     Kirk took this all in slowly, accepting the truth of the
situation.  "What do you want me to do, Captain?"
     "Our transporters are temporarily offline, I would like to
know what is the status of your vessel," asked Picard to the
living legend.  The crew looking on in astonishment at a man they
had heard endless tales of heroism about.  Thomas especially, not
realizing until now that James Kirk was really alive and that he
would soon be able to meet the man he had modeled his life after.
     "Well, I can't really say.  My crew has seemed to run off on
me," said Jim dryly, "It appears that most of my major systems
are down, including the transporters but life support seems to be
holding."
     "Do you have access to your shuttlebay," asked Picard.
     "No," replied Kirk, "the turbolift seems to be jammed and I
don'tupport is functioning below decks."
     "Very well, then we shall wait for the transporters to come
back online," decided the captain, "in the meantime we will keep
you apprised of our progress.  I look forward to meeting you face
to face."
     "Thank you, Captain, I too.  Kirk out."
     The transmission ceased.  The crew of the starship
Enterprise began chatting fervently at the anticipation of
meeting a Federation legend while another man sat down in his
chair on his empty bridge and accepted the shock that his whole
life had been turned upside down.

     The Klingon-Borg warrior arose from his position on the deck
with brutal determination.  His right prosthetic arm had been
damaged and he removed it to look on his withered hand.  As he
examined his surroundings, he saw thousands of his brothers
nonfunctional, damaged by the explosion that had incapacitated
their ship.  For the first time in ages, his thoughts were his
own.  His brothers' voices no longer sounded in his head in a
perfect harmony that tied them together into one collective mind.
He was alone, and he was angry.
     He had been defeated.  He had been chosen to be the
spokesperson of the Borg to facilitate the assimilation of this
quadrant of the galaxy and he had failed.  A side of him roared
out in ferocity, a feeling he had not experienced in a long time.
His Klingon blood came back to life and his soul cried out for
revenge.  He was Raltag, and he was a Klingon!
     Raltag made his way through the passageways of the part of
the Borg ship that had not been damaged.  One or two Borg
soldiers stood in his way but he easily dealt with them and moved
on.  He finally made it to his destination, a still intact
transporter.  Energizing the beams, he brought aboard the first
victim of his revenge.  The one who had been chosen to lead them
to victory instead of Raltag and had dishonored him since.  The
transporter beams locked on to their target and began
transmitting the matter stream back to the Borg ship.  Raltag
smiled as the image of James Kirk slowly coalesced in front of
him.

     Kirk sat in his chair aboard an empty ship, powerless to do
anything but sit and wait.  He had plenty of time to think, and
that was one thing he did not want to dwell on.  So much had
happened in the last few days and he was being overwhelmed by the
sensation that everything had been a lie.  What could he believe
anymore.  Was Picard real or just another illusion meant to trick
him into performing some other gruesome feat.  When would this
nightmare end or would it ever.  Maybe Jim had in fact died and
this was his eternal punishment.  He couldn't think of any fate
worse than being decieved one day to the next and not knowing
what was real and what was not.
     Well, he was determined to be prepared in any case.  Jim got
up and walked over to a panel in the side of the science station.
He pryed the jam door open and removed a phaser from its place.
Kirk checked the power readings to verify that it was in fact
genuine and tested it by incinerating the nearest piece of metal.
Good, he thought.  At least he would be prepared if this was in
fact a trap.  He began to walk back over to his seat, to await
the Enterprise or whatever it was when the tingling sensation of
a transporter beam enveloped him.  Strange that Picard hadn't
notified him before beaming him over, he thought as he awaited
rematerialization, but this thought quickly erased from his mind
as he emerged in an alien vessel.  He looked around to try to
find some clue as to where he was when he saw an ugly smile
greeting him.  A Klingon encased in metal appendages seized him
by his uniform and threw him to the ground.

     "Sir," said Worf looking intently at his panel, "Captain
Kirk is no longer on his ship."
     "What," said Picard, already guessing what had happened.
     "Captain, the Borg have activated their transporter beams,"
reported Data, confirming Picard's hypothesis.
     "Can we bring him back," asked Picard.
     "Negative sir, even if the transporters were operational we
wouldn't have a lock on his signal," answered Data.
     "Mr. Laforge, all due haste on the repairs to the
transporter or we won't need them," said Picard in the air.
     "Aye, sir," replied the chief engineer, speeding up his
work.
     Picard imagined what the Borg were doing to him right now
and hoped that he was wrong in every case.

     Kirk threw up his arm to deflect the blow that was coming
but didn't react in time as the metallic arm hit him broadside
again.  Jim slid down the deck, feeling the pain in his rib cage
from where the mutant Klingon had struck him.  He thought he had
seen everything there was to see in this galaxy from one side to
the other, but this took the cake.  This being was a gross
monstrosity of a Klingon with artificial implants for almost
every limb and major organ.  Not counting how much more strength
the already muscular Klingon warrior had, this thing was an
imposing sight.
     Jim got back to his feat and managed to duck his opponent's
next attack.  Raltag swung his right arm and missed as Kirk
delivered a solid blow to the torso and knocked the Klingon back
with another shot.  Raltag stumbled backward, but quickly
recomposed himself, his implants supplying his system with
artificially high levels of adrenalin.
     As Raltag prepared for his next charge, Jim glanced around
his surroundings, looking for a weapon to use against his foe.
He spotted a broken off metallic arm from a downed Borg soldier
and grabbed it, swinging it around with all his force and
catching Raltag in midstride, knocking him to the floor.  With
the cyborg momentarily beaten, Kirk broke out in a dead run,
searching for another transporter console.  He wasn't sure where
he was, but ten to one odds were that these creatures were the
Borg and, judging from the look on Picard's face when he
mentioned these beings, Jim didn't want to hang around any longer
than he had to.
     After a few moments, he looked behind him to make sure that
Raltag wasn't following and continued his search with a measured
stride, wary of being spotted.  He passed by several dozen Borg
in what appeared to be hibernation.  They were hooked up to their
computer systems and seemed to be recharging or more like healing
themselves.  Several were injured, no doubt from the battle.  He
was amazed that a ship could still function with the extent of
the damage he had seen on the viewscreen.  What he wouldn't give
for a tricorder right now, thought Kirk as he searched for a
needle in a 2haystack.  He could try doubling back to the
transporter that had brought him here but he didn't want to take
the chance of bumping into his pal behind him.
     After walking a few more minutes, he saw a line of Borg
warriors approaching him.  Thinking that he had been discovered,
he quickly readied himself for attack, but the machine beings
just marched right past him, not even paying heed to his
presence.  Kirk had the distinct feeling that if he had been in
their way they would have walked right through him like he wasn't
there.  It seemed they weren't interested in him at all, and yet
one of their kind was trying to kill him.  Jim brushed these
thoughts aside and continued on his search.

     The Borg warriors approached their brother as he marched
towards the direction of his prey.  A Borg stood in front of him
and placed a hand next to his neck, intending to stun his comrade
so that he could be repaired.  Raltag acted instinctively,
grabbing the other's arm with both hands and ripping it right out
of its socket.  A pool of lubricant and blood spilled from the
dismembered joint as Raltag flung the Borg against the nearest
wall, snapping his neck in the process.  His brethren now
approached him, but Raltag was ready.  He had broken free at last
and he was not about to be taken back, not alive anyway.  Two
Borg closed in from either side and grabbed him by both
shoulders.  Raltag kicked out with his right foot, sending his
opponent to the ground while he concentrated on the Borg to his
left.  He deflected the arm that was swinging down upon him and
with a mighty cry of battle picked up the Borg and drove him into
the nearest computer terminal, exploding the panel and sending
sparks flying over the deceased Borg.  He returned his attention
to the first who had recovered by now.  With a strong right to
the face, Raltag destroyed the Borg's eyepiece, rendering the
soldier blind.  He then shoved the Borg in the back as the
mechanized automoton fell over a railing hundreds of meters to
his death.  With that taken care of, Raltag resumed his course,
sensing the air for any signs of his prey.

     Kirk pressed on, not encountering any more patrols in his
path.  He discovered another major intersection and was about to
continue forward when he heard a faint humming noise off to this
right.  Intrigued by the presence of sound on the silent ship, he
turned directions and moved towards it.  As he closed in on the
noise, it changed from a hum to a kind of rhythmic pulse, like a
faint heartbeat.  The sound was not strong and it seemed as if
the beat was bordering on extinction after every pulse.  If it
were the heart of an animal, he would say that it was near its
deathbed.
     Intent on locating the source of the hum, Jim inadvertently
walked into a glass casing directly in front of him.  Through the
ice crystals that had formed on the surface, he could make out a
faint outline of a person and began to wipe away the condensation
to get a better look.  What he found stopped him dead in his
tracks.  Through the glass he saw a reflection of his own face on
the body of a Borg warrior.  The clone was an exact replica of
James Kirk except it was of a much younger version, approximately
in his early twenties.  The Borg had already begun to install
implants on the clone, including an eye piece that beamed a green
light directly at him.  Kirk now knew what they intended to do
with him.  This was his fate.  He was to become a machine, and
worse yet, many machines like him were to be created.  An army of
Kirks to take over the galaxy.  Jim refused to give in to that
plan and drew his phaser from its place on his tunic.  With cold
determination, Jim pointed his phaser and fired, instantly
disintegrating the warped replica.  One down, he thought, who
knows how many more to go.  Hearing the heartbeat-like sound once
more, Jim set off again, moving closer with each stride.

     "LaForge to bridge," said Geordi into the air after
activating his communicator, "Transporters are now operational.
We just have to run a few tests to calibrate the sensors."
     "No tests Geordi, do the best you can," replied Picard.
     "But captain. . .," protested the chief engineer.
     "I'm sending an away team down right now, you have till then
to calibrate your systems.  Picard out."
     Disgruntled, LaForge went back to work, hoping to avoid a
catastrophe in the process.
     "OK Chin, it looks like we'll have to eyeball this," said
Geordi to his assistant, who returned him a quizzical expression.

     "Mr. Worf, Mr. Data, report to the transporter room.  I want
you to try your best to retrieve him, but no unnecessary risks,
is that understood," said Picard.
     "Yes, sir," replied Worf with Data chirping an affirmative
right after.
     "Captain, request permission to join the away team," said
Thomas.
     "Denied, I need you here on the bridge, Will," said Jean-
Luc, realizing his error a moment later.
     "Captain, Will is dead," said Thomas softly.
     For the first time, Picard finally faced the truth of the
situation.  His former first officer, and friend was gone and he
had to accept it.  The pain registered on his countenance as
Thomas spoke those words and Jean-Luc bade goodbye to Will Riker
for the first and last time.
     "If he were here, it would be his place to be on the away
team," reasoned Riker, hoping he had gotten through to his
captain.
     With sad reluctance, Picard agreed and allowed him to join
the away team.  As Riker bounded up to the turbolift where Data
and Worf were waiting, Picard realized how hard it was to let him
go.  He had lost one Will Riker and he did not want to lose
another.  Although this was not the man he once knew, his
resemblance still reminded him of his friend and sending him off
to a Borg ship had been a difficult decision.  The Borg had cost
him so much already, he now prayed they would not take another
Riker away from him.
     "Transporter room, maintain a lock on the away team and be
ready to bring them out of there at the first sign of trouble,"
ordered Picard.
     "Acknowledged, Captain," said LaForge as he heard the
transporter engage, sending his officers to their meeting with
the Borg.

     The away team, lead by Lt. Cmdr. Riker stepped into the
transporter room and assumed their positions on the platform.
     "Have you calibrated the sensors yet, LaForge," said Thomas.
     "No, but I'm sure we can handle this manually," replied the
chief engineer not all to confidently.
     Riker wasn't reassured and mumbled something under his
breath that he dare not repeat out loud.
     "Energize," he ordered as a tingling sensation swept over
his body.
     Riker, Worf and Data materialized on the Borg ship.  All
around them were Borg soldiers, rejuvenating in slots against the
wall.  It felt eerie to have hundreds of eyes watch you without
being conscious of your presence.  Riker lead the way, followed
by Data with Worf bringing up the rear.
     "Sensors indicate a power source emanating from 500 meters
away, directly ahead," reported Data.
     "All right, that's a good place to look," concluded Thomas
and followed Data's course.
     The three walked on for a few minutes until they came upon
the bodies of two Borg soldiers.  It appeared as if some kind of
a battle took place for the two Borg were mutilated beyond
disbelief.  Riker didn't want to see who the winner was, that was
for sure.  Data had stopped to examine the two soldiers but
quickly ceased his investigation and proceeded on when he saw
that Riker wasn't interested.  Thomas paused a moment, and
strained his ears to make out something in the distance.
     "Whoever did this was a formidable warrior," said Worf
gazing over the dead figures.
     "This way," ordered Riker, following his senses to the
source of the sound.
     Data and Worf quickly kept pace with Riker as he plunged
ahead recklessly.

     The hum grew louder and louder and Kirk turned a corner to
discover a sight that amazed him in its infiniteness.  He peered
straight ahead at a chasm that extended on for as far as the eye
could see.  A horizontal tunnel running the length of the ship
and he was at its direct center.  Everywhere were Borg soldiers.
Endless columns and rows of Borg in their interface chambers,
healing themselves and communing with each other.  One collective
mind for an entire civilization.  Millions of parts sharing and
interfacing with each other at the speed of light, compromising
one single minded entity.
     Kirk finally realized where the hum was coming from.  The
Borg were chanting.  They were combining their strenghts and
energies into a healing trance, one that would repair their
brothers as well as their vessel.  Kirk looked on and saw metal
reforming before his very eyes, bending and shaping from the
massive power of a single unified thought.  The Borg possessed
telekinetic abilities that were more powerful than anyone could
imagine.  As Kirk gazed on in wonder, he looked behind him and
saw an immense sphere, pulsing in energy.  This was the focal
point of their powers, he thought.  The Borg channeled their
strength into this computer that effected repairs throughout the
ship.  Not since V'ger had Kirk ever seen so sophisticated a
piece of machinery.  A computer that harnessed telekinetic waves
as an energy source.  There was never so perfect a blend between
man and machine.  But the wonder of it all soon wore off and Kirk
now knew what he had to do.  These Borg would continue to grow
and heal until they were whole again and then they would start
all over.  It must end here.
     Jim reached down to his side and drew his phaser, preparing
to destroy the Borg and himself with it.  He should already be
dead anyway, thought Jim silently.  No man was meant to live
beyond his years, he had cheated death once again and it was time
to stop playing this game.  Jim aimed the weapon and prepared to
give the grim reaper its final victory when someone knocked his
phaser out of his hand, preventing him from completing his task.
Kirk whirled around and saw the gruesome face of a Klingon, with
his teeth snarling at him until a hand blotted out his vision and
Kirk collapsed to the deck.

     "Data, look," said Riker, examining the burned out wreckage
before him.
     "Sir, this was done with a class two phaser," reported Data
after examining his tricorder.
     "Kirk's phaser," concluded Worf.
     Suddenly, Borg began popping out of the framework,
proceeding towards them.  Before Riker could figure out where the
hell they had come from, the Borg were on top of them and the
trio hastily retreated backwards, as if being herded in to a pen.
Worf stood his ground and prepared to fight before Riker ordered
him back and the warrior reluctantly obeyed.  The Borg pressed on
and the officers from the starship Enterprise crept back further
and further into the ship.

     Kirk hit the deck with a pain he had never experienced
before in his back.  Without having anytime to think, Raltag was
on top of him pinning him to the floor.  With careful
deliberateness, the Klingon cyborg put his hands around Kirk's
throat and began to squeeze the life out of him.  Jim gasped,
trying to get some air into his lungs and only marginally
suceeding.  Fighting not to pass out, Jim clubbed the warrior in
the side of the head with each fist, doing little damage.  Again
and again he struck until Raltag finally loosened his grip and
Kirk delivered a solid kick to the groind, hoping that there
weren't any implants in that region.  Raltag's furious howl
answered that question and Jim managed to slide out from
underneath his opponent.  Kirk looked around for his phaser and
didn't see it anywhere.  Without much time to act, he grapped a
jagged piece of metal that had broken loose in the battle and ran
straight for Raltag.  With all his might, he thrust his makeshift
weapon into Raltag's artificial eye.  Sparks flew out from the
Borg implant and Raltag hurled another scream that shook the very
structure of the ship.  The Klingon, severely injured, was more
dangerous than ever and grabbed Kirk around the torso, preparing
to take the human to hell with him.  Kirk delivered blow after
blow from his unimpaired arms with no use.  Raltag slowly edged
toward the chasm, preparing to die with Kirk in his grip.  At the
last moment, Jim looked above and wrapped his arms around a
support beam.  The Klingon fell over the edge, with only Kirk's
grip saving them from oblivion.  Thinking of another time he was
in this situation, Kirk began kicking with his legs.
     "I," a blow to the torso, "have had," another blow to the
midside, "enough of you!"  With that, Jim swung everything he had
into a final attack that weakened the Borg's grip and sent him
hurtling down to his death.  Kirk swung back over the edge and
fell to safety, exhausted beyond all comprehension.

     The Borg steadily drove the Enterprise officers back, deeper
and deeper into the ship.  Their phaser fire had proved
ineffective along time ago and there was nothing more they could
do.  As they backed into a clearing, Riker looked over his
shoulder and saw James Kirk, collapsed on the deck.  He began to
move towards him but was blocked as several Borg warriors
appeared and began closing in on the legendary Starfleet captain.
Riker was surrounded and so was Kirk.  Jim got to his feet and
assessed the situation instantly.  He reached down to the ground
and drew his phaser pointing it directly at the glowing sphere
before him.   The Borg warrriors stopped instantly, not
proceeding any further for fear they would instigate Kirk's
attack.  Jim knew they wouldn't wait forever and prepared to
fire.  He turned to his left and saw Riker.  Feeling great joy
that he had not killed the man who had given him his finest
battle in years, Kirk simply nodded his head and signaled Riker
to get out.  LaForge, discovering on his console that the away
team was surrounded transported the officers back on board as per
the captain's orders.
     "NO!" screamed Riker, not wanting to lose his idol once
again as the transporter beam enveloped him, taking him back to
safety.
     With a calm he had never felt before and a sense of peace
washing over him, Kirk fired his weapon, bringing an end to the
Borg and himself.
     Picard gazed at the viewscreen as the Borg ship exploded
into a billion pieces.  Without calling down, he knew that Riker
and the others were safe, but a great man had been lost.  With a
silent moment of honor, Jean-Luc Picard saluted the finest
starship captain ever to have existed.  The galaxy was dealt a
great victory today, at the cost of a legend.

     Lt. Cmdr. Riker approached his destination, and singaled the
occupant of the room that a visitor had arrived.  A very soft
'come in' answered his page and Riker entered the room to find
Deanna Troi lying down, her eyes swollen from the tears that had
been there moments before.
     "I just wanted to know if you would come to the memorial,"
began Thomas, not trying to pressure her in anyway.  He could
only imagine the pain she was going through, probably similar to
his own.  She had lost someone who had meant more to her than
anything else in the universe, and had yet betrayed her at every
moment.  He had lost someone like that too, when he had regained
his freedom to experience rejection by his Imzadi.  He still
loved her with all his heart, be he knew the pain Will had caused
her and her unwillingness to jump into something she had given up
long ago, prevented them from being together.  It must be sheer
torture, he thought, to see the image of a man you had been
grieving over in front of you, and Thomas began to leave, not
wanting to cause her anymore pain.
     "Wait," she spoke softly, summoning him closer to her.
     Thomas went to her side and sat down on the bed beside her,
ready to offer her any comfort at a moment's notice.
     "I," she began, summoning up the courage to say the words
she knew she must, "wanted to say I'm sorry for the pain I've
caused you."
     "Sorry, if anyone should be hurting its you," began Thomas,
"I know how much he meant to you."
     "That's not what I mean," she replied.  "I mean for not
reciprocating the feelings you have for me."
     Thomas' heart began to sound with joy at the thought of a
future between them.  But caution payed heed to excitement as he
realized the state she was in.
     "I know you're still hurting, and that I resemble a man you
lost, but I am not that William Riker," said Thomas defiantly.
     "I know," returned Troi, "and it will take time.  But I've
finally been forced to let Will go and all the baggage that that
carries.  I think, someday in the future, I might be ready to let
Thomas back into my life, from where we left off years ago."
     Thomas was shocked beyond comprehension.  For years he had
spent his life alone, dreaming of this moment and now it was
almost a reality.  With a tenderness he had not felt before,
Thomas took her hand and escorted her out into the corridor.

     The Enterprise senior officers were assembled in the
holodeck to pay tribute to their fallen comrades.  They were
currently in an artificial environment simulating an Iowa
cornfield, as per the deceased's last wishes.  Picard took his
spot in front of the recreated grave and began his remarks.
     "We are gathered here to pay final respects to our honored
dead," began the captain in the ritual saying.  "Those officers
who have met their ends died in the service of their people to
sustain a peace we shall always cherish.  On stardate 50015.3,
Captain James Tiberius Kirk was lost in the line of duty.  It
should be noted that his sacrifice saved the lives of the crew of
this ship and of countless civilians who may have been victims of
Borg assimilation.  It is our hope that this defeat will convince
our enemies to cease their assault against the Federation and
seek peace with the citizens of our nation.  Although he will
remembered for his accomplishments amongst the stars, James Kirk
was born on Earth and to Earth we return his body, ashes to
ashes, dust to dust, earth to earth.  The galaxy will feel his
loss and will remember his heroic rebirth to save our
civilization in its darkest hour."
     A moment of silence enveloped the crew as they reflected on
the great sacrifice this man had made for the galaxy once again
his name to become a greater legend than it already was.  After
several moments, Picard signaled Geordi by the arch and the
scenery dramatically shifted to that of Alaska, except with a
comfortable environment in place.
     "Now we pay tribute to our comrade and friend, Captain
William Thomas Riker.  Will was a good friend of mine and the
finest officer I have ever known.  But I feel he should be
remembered for the man he was and not the record he retains.
Will was a friend to all who consistently put his career on hold
to remain with this crew.  It is sad that the promotion he had
always wanted and yet had delayed for so long brought about his
end, but we are not meant to know the destinies of ourselves or
the complex order of the universe.  He will be missed and his
service to all shall be remembered.  Farewell, old friend."
     The galaxy had lost two great heroes that day, from two
different ages.  They were the best of their generation and had
fought the battle of the ages, with both losing their lives in
the process.  The Federation had lost its two greatest starship
captains and only the future would reveal if another would
challenge their place in history.


                            THE  END