Disclaimer: Star Trek created by Gene Roddenberry and owned by Paramount Pictures. Star Wars created by George Lucas and owned by Lucasfilm. I own the story and any original characters/species. No copyright infringement is intended.

Star Trek/Star Wars: The Best of Both Worlds

Author’s Notes:

1. This chapter contains possible spoilers for “Legacy of the Force: Betrayal”

2. For your full musical enjoinment this chapter, I suggest the following tracks:

Battle with the Forces of Evil (Sleeping Beauty)

Earth Resonance (Earth Maiden Arjuna)

One-Winged Angel (Final Fantasy: Advent Children version)

Tarawa (Snow Falling on Cedars)

The Battle (The Chronicles of Narnia: The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe)

3. If all goes according to plan, then only two chapters more will be needed to close the curtain on Act II. Regardless of when it ends, Act II’s conclusion will propel us into Act III and the home stretch. In the meantime, I hope you enjoy the story’s new home in Crossover rather than Star Trek section and that you’re having a good summer. Other than that, sit back and enjoy the continuing adventure...

Act II, Part XVIII

“We must overact our part in some measure, in order to produce any effect at all.”

- Dante Alighieri -

Location: Starfleet Command

San Francisco, Earth, Sol System, Alpha Quadrant

In the final six months of the Dominion War, the Dominion had stunned the entire quadrant by successfully courting the Breen Confederacy into their war effort. It was a development none had seen coming; the Breen’s penchant for isolation and internal focus rivaled that of the Romulan Star Empire. As such, Starfleet hadn’t known exactly how to respond to the Dominion’s newest ally. It was this uncertainty that had set the stage for one of the most daring and audacious attacks in galactic history.

The Breen managed to sneak a small task-force into the Sol System and launch an orbital bombardment on the San Francisco Bay Area and with it, Starfleet Headquarters. Admiral Nyota Uhura had not been in the building that day, instead conducting an inspection of Starfleet Communications on the other side of the Golden Gate. By the time she had made it back, the damage had been done.

The sense of déjà vu was sickening as Uhura surveyed the burning remains of not only the Tactical Preparation theater, but Starfleet Command as a whole. Images of footage form the Xindi attack on the southwestern North America continent flashed in her mind as she processed the crater that had been the TPT, the smoke choking the air and visibility, and the sound of dead of dying personnel.

Amazingly, none of the assembled Admirals – Aakar, Paris, and more – had received more than a scratch or several bruises or cuts. Their savior stood atop another mound of rubble, his eyes were closed, his hands raised above his head. Several chunks of tritanium reinforced concrete and rubble, ranging from miniscule to several feet thick, floated almost lazily in an arc. He was rummaging through the rubbles, pointing out and attempting to rescue other trapped Command Personnel.

Whatever doubt Uhura may still have harbored towards the denizens of the New Republic’s galaxy was at least partially allayed by the selflessness of Kyle Katarn. He had braved Starfleet Security and risked his own life to save theirs from the Borg Strike, holding back the fire and building collapse with his mystical ‘Force’.

She wasn’t the only one that held similar feelings. L.J. Akaar, now coming around from a minor bump and perceiving their savior, simply straightened his uniform and glanced down at the Jedi Knight who from his perspective was half a head shorter – the result of the average Capellan height and biology.”

“Thank you, Mr. Katarn,” Akaar said at least in his crisp and to the point manner. The former mercenary turned Jedi opened his eyes, glancing up at the Capellan Admiral. A hint of a smile slowly blossomed on his face.

“No problem, Admiral. Mind over matter, as they –”

Katarn’s speech halted and his eyes widened. Akaar frowned.

“What are you –“

“Get down!”

For the second time in many hours, Katarn yelled the same words. And just as with last time, fire rained down from above. But this time, it was not the fire of a Borg energy discharge or even a Breen disruptor as had been four years earlier. This time, the multiple lances of energy that slammed into Katarn’s back were the familiar amber beams of Starfleet weaponry.

Had Katarn not been levitating the rubble of the TPT, he may have had a chance to reach for his trademark weapon and ignite its vibrant blade, to deflect the beams of death that targeted him. Even with the levitation, he probably could have, for it seemed impossible that one of the most skilled mercenaries and spies in the New Republic could fall to a squad of elite Starfleet marines.

But sooner or later, the odds caught up; they always did, as the Solo and Skywalker clans had learned with the death of the Wookie Chewbacca two years earlier and this time was no exception for Kyle Katarn. The Jedi Knight fell and the rubble that his telekinesis has kept floating was released, caught once more in the grip of gravity. Akaar scrambled to avoid the oncoming barrage, but was knocked unconscious by a stray piece of concrete.

“Leonard!”

Uhura began to pivot towards the fallen Capellan, but found half of the phaser rifles now trained at her and the other Admirals. As the rubble settled, fully armored Starfleet Marines and other security forces stood atop the crater and began moving to secure the area.

”What in the hell are you –”

“Move a muscle and we’ll roast you.”

Granted, there was her part in the ‘Enterprise Seven’ debacle, i.e. the theft of the old 1701 from Spacedock, the illegal trip to Genesis, and of course, sabotaging the Excelsior. But that was nearly a century past and all charges had been dropped after stopping the . These marines hadn’t even

“I may remind you that I am a higher ranking officer and that both speaking to me in such a manner, not to mention ignoring the plight of injuries Starfleet personnel all around us constitutes criminal acti—”

“Can it. Medical teams are already rounding up survivors; you may be lucky enough to see them at the detention facilities or the trial.”

“Detention facilities? Trial?”

Uhura began to question the mental state of this soldier and Admiral Paris shared a similar sentiment.

“What in the hell are you talking about?”

“You and your Jedi ‘savior’ are all under arrest for charges of conspiracy and treason against the United Federation of Planets.”

Incredulity spread across the faces of all assembled.

“On who’s authority!”

“Admiral Nechayev’s.”

U.S.S. Enterprise-E

En Route to Coruscant

“Dammit, can’t we go any faster?”

Janeway was barely restrained and it wasn’t just the unfamiliarity of the Enterprise’s chair of command compare to her old chair on Voyager. She was almost on the edge of her feet, every iota of attention focused on the viewscreen and the swirling, seemingly endless green maw that was a Borg Transwarp conduit. The helmsman, Mr. Katanga, shook his head.

“We do not even know where this transwarp conduit leads, Admiral.”

“I’m also not keen on pushing the engines that far,” LaForge chimed in from Engineering. The background was rife with the sound of overtaxed and half-repaired engineering systems. “Even with the repairs, Enterprise is still in delicate shape. It’s crazy enough as it is chasing that Borg fleet to – well, where ever there is.”

“Mr. LaForge, my orders stand. Is that understood?”

There was a long silence, further adding to Janeway’s annoyance and fears regarding the legitimatecy and righteousness of this gambit.

“Mr. LaForge,” she asked again, perhaps more forcibly then necessary. The engineer finally responded.

“Understood, Admiral. We’ll do what we can do here short of burning deuterium. LaForge out.”

The channel closed and the Admiral sighed. She again had to remind herself that this was not Voyager, that this was not her crew. The Doctor was on Coruscant, fighting to secure the Alliance’s future. Tom was still field-testing experimental Starfleet craft, B'Elanna was somewhere in the Klingon Empire. Chakotay was probably dead, killed by the Borg bastards while defending one of the Federation’s most deadly enemies, a fate likely shared by Seven as well. And of course, Neelix had chosen to stay behind with his people in the Delta Quadrant.

All she had now was Tuvok, manning the tactical station usually belonging to Enterprise’s Mr. Worf. As it had all those years ago, it again struck her as odd seeing a Vulcan of all people manning a weapons console and commanding instruments of death. But Tuvok was like a island of stoicism and dedication in the sea of chaos that she had thrown the mutinous Starfleet armada into not two hours earlier.

The Enterprise and the task force had emerged through the wormhole into a Naboo system under siege. However, barely any of the Collective’s vessels, and those were primarily clustered around the Transwarp Hub. Several of the smaller vessels, primarily Assimilators and Interceptors, patrolled the system. According to survivors, they had engaged and destroyed most of the Naboo Defense Force, then proceeded through a specific transwarp aperture that had remained open.

Janeway was disturbed by the lack of any Cubes both within the patrol and within the vicinity of the Hub. If this Neo-Borg Collective was intent on launching a campaign of assimilation against the New Republic and Yuuzhan Vong, then this token force made no sense. Their safety and continued operation of both the wormhole and the transwarp hub would make securing the Naboo system a tactical necessity.

As such, the Gormenghast and several other ships, most notably three Iwo Jima-class troop ships had been left behind to attempt to secure the main planet while the task force had run the gauntlet. Amazingly, no shots had been fired. It was as if the Borg hadn’t noticed. Granted, this was typical of Borg behavior; unless there was any sign of overt hostility, the intruders would be ignored.

But considering that Janeway had just led seven-hundred ships worth of phaser arrays, pulse phaser cannons, and torpedoes launchers through the hub and into the swirling maw, the Borg’s lack of response was not only untypical and out of character, but even a tad frightening. She knew that whatever lay on the other side of the conduit was any number of hells and wondered again why she had proceeded with such a risk.

This was perhaps the greatest risk she had taken since she had made the decision to destroy the Caretaker’s Array and spare the Ocampa from the Kazon’s wrath. She didn’t like this. She was sick and tired of risk, of throwing the dice and attempting to claim the board for the ultimate prize. She had risked the safety of the Ocampan people over her own crew, a crew that she had in effect stolen seven years from and was now dispersed to the winds. She had made it home only to have sociopaths and nitpickers like Alynna Nechayev spit on all the crew of Voyager had accomplished and all they had scarified.

The beeping of the tactical and sensor boards brought Janeway out of her confrontations with her doubts and demons.

“Admiral, Long-range sensors and probes confirm that we are coming to the exit aperture,” Tuvok said. Janeway had ordered probes fired from the Enterprise and several other Starfleet vessels as they had entered the Hub as a precaution. They had staid ahead of the fleet and had performed this task flawlessly.

‘About time,” muttered Janeway. “Mr. Katanga, if you would?”

“Aye, Admiral. Emerging in three…two…one…Reversion to – oh my God!”

Janeway shared the sentiment as the maw of the transwarp conduit swept open to reveal a conflagration that defied all imagination. The Republic’s data tapes had shown the Federation and Starfleet the wonders of Coruscant, perhaps the first true ecumenopolis, or city-planet, that Starfleet or anyone in the Federation had ever seen.

And it was also burning.

Space surrounding the capital was a strangely hypnotic, yet terrifying blaze and maelstrom of explosions, laser fire, and movements – all courtesy of the Neo-Borg Collective. Borg Interceptors weaved in and out of space lanes, pursuing or being pursed by all manner of Republic snubfighter. Cubes and Corellian and Kuati-built cruisers exchanged disruptor and turbolaser fire at point blank range. Flaming hunks of tritanium, transparisteel blew apart from the barrage, tumbling into the void and adding to the miasma and chaos that had settled on the galactic capital.

Assimilators and their assimilation beams lanced out at ships of every kind, punching through the shields of both military and civilian vessels. By culling individual life forms, they were then beamed to assimilation chambers either on board the ship itself or elsewhere in the fleet, if Seven’s stories and data following her ‘liberation’ from the Borg six years earlier were correct. Janeway shuddered to think what would happen when if those beams were turned on the capital planet and what chance, if any, the planetary shields had in

From an initial glance, it didn’t appear that the Borg were adapting entirely to the Republic’s turbolaser and blaster technology yet – though they had been given a two-month head start to analyze and strategize , but that didn’t matter. Even without assimilation and adaptation, the Borg Cubes were normally designed to withstand a seemingly impossible amount of punishment – Species 8472 being a prime exception to this. Even with all there capital vessels, cruisers, gunships, mines, and fighters, the Borg were everywhere at once and overwhelming.

Her earlier annoyance and impatience now blossomed into a full-blown fury. Fury at herself, at her future self for failing to destroy the Collective on her suicide mission two years earlier –

“What are your orders, Admiral?”

No. She had supported her future counterpart’s risky endeavor, even though they had both known its likelihood of succeeding was nil. But Janeway was sick and tired of risking one life for another.

“Admiral?”

Yet I must step once more into uncertainty.

“Mr. Tuvok,” she said at last, “Open a channel to the fleet. Make sure it’s on New Republic channels as well.”

“Aye. Channels open.”

“This is Admiral Kathryn Janeway of the United Federation of Planets and acting command of the U.S.S. Enterprise all Federation starships, render aid to as many New Republic vessels as possible.”

She signaled Tuvok to close the channel.

“Mr. Katanga, bring us alongside the nearest Borg vessel; have the Majestic and Laputa flank us. I also want fighters from the Shogei Maru flying cover.. Mr. Tuvok, target said vessel from all available weapons ports and blow it to hell. Mr. LaForge, I’ll need all the power you can give me.”

“Will do what we can, Admiral. LaForge out.”

The Enterprise’s engines surged with plasma and lifeblood, propelling the mighty Soverigen-class cruiser forward, reinforcements behind it and ready to make war. Like the armada that had bravely run the Dominion blockade of the Bajor during Operation Return, Starfleet had now entered the playing field.

Location: Cardassian Warship Trager

En Route to Cardassia Prime

Aside from their belligerence and tenacity to hunt in packs, the Cardassians were well-renown for the art of the conversation. Some had even found them to be too conversational. It was no single fault or failing; the average Cardassian simply liked to talk.

Macet had been a kind and gracious host – certainly not the typical dog of the Cardassian military that had been portrayed outside of the Protectorate’s borders. Despite the fragmentation of the Union and the almost non-existent budget towards maintaining he Starfleet-approved fleet, Trager was well maintained

The Kanar had loosened his tongue has the dinner had proceeded, though he had not made any insidious advances. Macet had spoken highly of the Cardassian duty to family and marriage and prided himself on not having taken any comfort women during the Occupation.

“Ms. Skywalker?”

“Huh?”

“We were discussing possible geopolitical effects of this wormhole on the Protectorate. You after all are the only leading expert I or any Cardassian to my knowledge has come into contact with.”

“Yes, ah, Forgive me, Gul Macet. I…I for a moment felt a stirring through the Force.”

“Fascinating. You know, your descriptions of the Force remind me of the Bajorans and their beliefs of the pagh, which while many Cardassians shunned the beliefs of the…”

He continued on, but the former Emperor’s Hand had tuned him out. Something had happened, she could feel it. But she remembered her mission. The Orbs had to be located and quickly. With them, then perhaps this insanity could finally reach its conclusion. Perhaps then could the threat of the Yuuzhan Vong be pushed back, perhaps then she could finally live her life out in peace with her son and husband. The thought of the latter caused her to reach out to him through their Force Bond.

Skywalker, if you can hear me, I hope all’s well on Bajor.

Location: The Fire Caves

Bajor, Alpha Quadrant, Milky Way Galaxy

“Put him down, now!”

Han, Kyp, Zekk, Lowbacca, and Saba all stood framed in the entrance of the Fire caves, four separate lightsabers and BlasTech blaster drawn. While all had looks of shocked recognition etched upon their faces, none so was greater than Han’s.

It was understandable, though. Kyp and the others had not come into the game until after the major events of the Galactic Civil War. And for all their differences, Lumiya was on both the New Republic and the New Jedi Order’s Wanted Lists for her crimes. Yet, the others had only heard of her; Han had met the Dark Lady of the Sith, or at least Shira Brie.

Lumiya just snorted and glared at the arrival of the Corellian and his associates. She remembered Solo as well and was not in the least bit surprised to see that even the passing of almost thirty years and the death of his co-pilot had not purged him of his cocky exterior and indifference to the terror which he was about the subject both himself and his Jedi posse.

Such comes of dealing with the Sith.

“The insufferable smuggler and a few merry men --”

“—who are about to knock you into the next life like we did with your reborn master,” Han retorted, though there was a tad of shock behind his smug expression, one shared by Kyp as well. This was clearly Lumiya, but the voice appeared to be that of Callista, or at least Cray Mingla, who had given her body to save Callista’s spirit. Lumiya’s own expression shifted from one of quaint bemusement to one of annoyance and incredulity.

“You people never cease to amaze me. You take down one Sith or Dark Jedi, you think you can handle them all.”

They hadn’t been the first, nor would they be the last. Lumiya knew from scattered records she had recovered here – records formerly belonging to the deceased Emperor – had shown that Skywalker’s first master, the fool Kenobi, had shown a similar attitude following the death of Darth Maul on Naboo and prior to the engagement of Lord Tyranus on both Genosis and later aboard the Invisible Hand.

“Well let’s see, we’ve stopped Vader, Palpatine, Kueller, Brakiss, Gethzerion and her Nightsisters – you name it, we’ve blasted ‘em.”

“Hardly. And in the matter of the Nightsisters, was it not Warlord Zsinj that dispatched Gethzerion and her ilk?”

This is was technichally true. It had been a barrage from two of Zsinj’s Star Destroyers that had destroyed the Nightsister’s commandered shuttle and prevented the terror of Dathomir from spreading to the rest of the galaxy. Han hadn’t wept, not after the hell that witch had put him and Leia through and merely shrugged it off.

“Details, details. The score’s still in our favor, lady.”

“Smart Han, real smart; antagonize her more,” grumbled Luke from the far side of the cavern.

”You okay, Luke?”

“No, I’m not.”

That much was true.

“Well don’t worry, we’ve got it under control, kid.”

Skywalker’s head shook in weariness.

“Han, you fool. Get out of here!”

Location: Bothan Assualt Crusier Ralroost

In Orbit of Coruscant

“Give me plasma flux to starboard defense screens,” bellowed Admiral Krey’Fey as Ralroost shuddered, this time more violently than should have been possible for his flagship. Kre’Fey had an ominous feeling that structural integrity alarms would be going off any comment now. A moment later, his suspicions were confirmed by one of the bridge crewmembers.

“Bridge shields are buckling. SIF failing on decks five, six, and eight!”

Just wonderful.

The problem with the Bothan Assault Cruisers was that in keeping with Bothan mentality, they were far more suited towards offensive rather than defensive action. Of course, given that the design had been approved and rushed into production following the near disastrous Caamas Document incident, the Bothan Admiral couldn’t blame their desire for a quick-action, mobile weapons platform.

Unfortunately, quick action wasn’t stopping the three Borg Interceptors weaving in and out of Ralroost’s line of fire and the remains of their fighter escort. Kre’Fey’s thoughts flashed back to Ithor a year and a half earlier when a Yuuzhan Vong coralskipper had almost rammed through the bridge. With SIF damage and the buckling of bridge shields, it was all too possible and likely that Borg would succeed where the Yuuzhan Vong had failed.

At least I’ll be able to see my grandfather Laryn again, though I’ll regret seeing Bothawui one last time..

Fortunately, this hope and this regret were not to be, at least not yet. Lances and dots of copper energy suddenly flashed pass the starboard shield and instantly vaporized two of the kamikaze Borg craft. The third fired off its own lance before breaking off its suicide

Kre’Fey watched in amazement as three fighters of non-Republic design as well as three disks swept past the starboard transparisteel viewport. And emblazoned on the largest disk, for all eyes to see, was a language that the Bothan had only recently been exposed to, but which he recognized.

U.S.S. ENTERPRISE 1701-E.

“Admiral, we’re being hailed by the Enterprise.”

“Patch it through.”

A moment later, the technician confirmed the connection and Kre’Fey was the first to speak.

“Greetings, Admiral Janeway.”

“Thank you, Admiral Kre’Fey. What’s your status?”

“We’re in need of an escort, Ralroost and the Capital is falling apart. Other than that, all’s well.”

“Who’s in charge of the planetary defense? Sien Sovv?

“Essentially it’s down to him and myself, with a couple of others along for the ride. There are even rumors of Ackbar on his way from Mon Cal.”

“What about Bel Iblis?”

“Was part of the fleet helping to guard the Transwarp Hub and Naboo. We haven’t seen either him or Peregrine since then.”

“We weren’t in Naboo long, but we didn’t seen the wreckage of a Dreadnaught either, so there’s a chance he’s still alive.”

“Hmm. I wouldn’t believe the old warhorse was dead unless I saw it with my own eyes. Are Antilles and Celchu with you?”

“They’re still on…assignment. Even if we had time, we couldn’t raise them.”

That meant Antilles and Celchu were leading the small Republic contingent of the Romulan Neutral Zone conflict.

“Pity; we could have used the new weaponry on the Mon Mothma. So you’ve been chasing this fleet since Naboo?”

“Since Sector 001. They…hit San Francisco. Starfleet Headquarters is gone, Admiral.”

“Indeed?”

There was a silence for a moment.

“Admiral Kre’Fey, do you believe me to be deceiving you about the Borg and the destruction of our Command?”

“Admiral Janeway, all I know is that in less than four hours, one of our main allies showed their colors and turned their ships and weapons against the New Republic Captial. Couple this with the recent accusations against your Captain Picard and some sort of Federation covert group, Section 31, mean that others won’t—”

“Wait, wait, slow down. Did you say Section 31!”

Before he could respond, the communications board pinged.

“NRMOC for you, sir,” said the technician.

“Speak of the devil beast,” sighed Kre’Fey.

“What is it? Section 31?”

“Nom those who wouldn’t think to believe you. NRMOC is hailing me. It appears politics are about to enter the fray – again.”

Location: The Fire Caves

Bajor, Alpha Quadrant, Milky Way Galaxy

There was a desperation in Luke’s voice that Han had only heard on a few occasions and it instantly sent chills up both his spine and the spines of the Jedi posse. Luke, while not emotionally cold and hard as nails, was still noteworthy for his calmness and keeping his fear and despair tempered. Such traces of desperation within his cry spoke volumes towards the graveness of the matter.

It meant that Lumiya herself was bad enough, but the ugly fellow behind her was probably worse. Indeed, Han heard gaps from Saba, Zekk, Kyp, and Lowbacca gasp, sensing the awesome power and aura that radiated off of Amjan’s corporeal form.

“You may wish to listen to your beloved Grand Master, you weak, pathetic fools. You face more than just a Dark Lady of the Sith,” she stated quietly, but with force and rising tension as she gestured to the Cardassian behind her.

“Kosst Amojan, if you would please?”

The Pah-Wraith possessed Cardassian just starred at the Sith.

“I am not at your beck and call, whelp.”

Sighing, Lumiya’s eyes narrowed and she made a motion with her hands. Instantly, a strange feeling overcame Amojan, seeping through pathways and cogs both organic and ethereal, reptilian and non-corporeal. He was compelled to raise his hands, the flame of the Pah-Wraiths bursting into brilliance and growing steadily until both pillars threatened to engulf his mortal frame.

“Hallowed is the power of the Pah-Wraiths,” a now conscious Palas observed aloud as he dove behind an outcropping of stalagmites. While he had been willing and capable to do the work of immortals, he knew there was a time for work and a time for getting the hell out of the way.

“Take them down, now!” Durron yelled, but as the other Jedi prepared to move, the distinct snap-hiss of a lightsaber sounded. Instantly, a crimonson tendril of energy flashed through the air and narrowly missed the Knights and Masters. The Jedi saw Lumiya moving to block their path, the tendril emanating from a silver cylinder clutched in her right hand.

“In your place, children,” Lumiya snapped, brandishing her long-time favored weapon, the lightwhip. Similar to a lightsaber, the lightwhip emitted a coherent beam of energy. However, the blade was long and flexible and wielded like a standard whip as could be found in both galaxies.

Kyp frowned and charged . To his astonishement, his blade didn’t even halt the tendril, as was normally a given when two lightsaber blades made contact with each other. Her weapon had been constructedfrom a shard of the Kaiburr crystal and Mandalorian iron and had been specially modified to include both energy and matter in its emission. Luke had learned this nearly to his demise years earlier and it had only been the well-placed aim and brandishing of the rarer Jedi weapon, the light-dagger, that had allowed him to carry the duel.

That, of course, was nearly twenty years removed from the present circumstanses. Kyp or any of the others possessed such a countermeasure and Lumiya had progressed much from the untested Dark Side assassin that Vader had forged her into without Sidious’ knowledge – or Palpatine; technichally, Sidious was the correct name of the late Emperor, but it always felt more correct in addressing him by his Nubian name.

The tendril continued unabated, slicing him through the abdomen. Durron fell with a cry, his hand clutching his mid-section, droplets of blood and other fluids pooling on the rocky floor of the rocky floor. Before the other three Jedi could take up the charge, the charge that Dukat/Amojan had been building up finally erupted. A ring of Pah-Wraith fire shot forward and settleed around the fallen Durron and his backup.

“Thiz one is not intimdated by your flames,” hissed Saba as she coruched into a running jump. The Barbael’s attempt to escape the ring of fire, however, failed, as she slamed into what appeared to be an insiivble dome capping the ring. The Jedi fell back, knocked out cold. Dukat laughed darkly.

“This is our domain, Jedi. You will got no further,” the Pah Wraith chieftan growled, clearly not happy at his coercement in this affair. Yet, after the dregs of imprionment and Winn Adami being the last thing their flames had consumed – exlcuding the Emissaries of the Prophets and the Pah-Wraiths respectively – he could not help but enjoy the drama unfolding beneath Bajor’s surface.

“I’ll admit that’s a cute light show. But mine’s better,” Han yelled as his blaster’s nozzle was aimed directly as the possessed Cardassian’s left eye socket, the bolt released even as he spoke. Unfortunately, while such packets of charged energy are normally useful and Han’s aim true, Solo was overlooking one, slight detail. The Corellian was firing at an immortal, at a being for whom the manipulation of time was as possible and as easy as moving a mountain.

So, it shouldn’t have been a surprise to anyone, least of all the Jedi, when the three blaster shots stopped a meter from their intended target.

“Strong words for a, whelp,” said Dukat. And with barely a blink of his eyes, the three bolts reversed course along their arc towards Captain Solo. Han dove from a rebound eerily similar to Vader’s deflection of his blaster bolts at Bespin all those years ago. Dukat/Amojan followed up this initial barrage with two additional fire blasts from his inferno. Han

“I’m getting too old for this Sithswpan,” Han muttered.

“My ears are burning, Captain Solo,” said Lumiya, who was watching Solo’s running of the gauntlet with detached interest. She had taken up a seat in the arena, so to speak, besides the still-bound Siskos, specifically Jake.

“Bring back any memories?” she asked rather innocently.

“Some,” Jake responded darkly, memories of two dark times flowing through his mind. The first was of the alternate timeline that they had been thrown into, where the Pah-Wraiths had become the dominant religion of not only Bajor, but the entire Alpha Quadrant. Their actions had very nearly caused Armageddon and the erasure of that timeline did little to quell the uneasiness in Jake’s memories and dreams. And of course, the second recollection was just as, if not more, insidious. He had severed as Amojan’s vessel during the False Reckoning aboard DS9 towards the end of 2374.

“Still coutning on your father to save you all?”

“Perhaps.”

“Well, if all has gone according to plan, then your father should be dead.”

Jake just starred ahead at Solo and the other Jedi’s attempts to break through the Pah-Wraith’s ring of fire, their lightsaber’s smashing down upon the flames. There was an expression of defiance and confidence etched upon his face.

“I don’t believe you. Why should I believe a Sith?”

Lumiya shrugged.

“Fine, then. Continue to cling to your delusions. But make no mistake that your father’s death wasn’t accidental. None of what has occurred on the playing fields of these two galaxies is. Everything that has unfolded here has been predetermined.

“Does that include this?”

Lumiya frowned at the voice, her hand on the hilt on her lightwhip as the Dark Lady turned –

-- as something green violently sliced into her right arm, sending sparks flying into the air. The lightwhip went flying in to the air, crashing into the rocky cavern floor and rolling for several moments before finally stopping. The crimson tendrils were still crackling, Lumiya’s right hand gripped along its hilt. Lumiya fell to her knees, shock and disbelief burning in her eyes as she gazed first at the stump of her arm and then up at her attacker.

Standing above her, slightly unsteady, but with green lightsaber in hand, was Luke Skywalker.

To Be Continued…

Notations

The Enterprise navigator, while unnamed in previous chapters, is a tribute to the freighter captain from “Raiders of the Lost Ark”

The Iwo-Jima-class troopships again first appeared in the RTS game “Star Trek: Armada II”.

The Starfleet vessel Laputa is another tribute to the world of anime, specifically the film “Castle in the Sky”.

Gethzerion and the Nightsisters first appeared in “The Courtship of Princess Leia” by Dave Wolverton.

I have just discovered that I have been misspelling Admiral Kre’Fey’s last name wrong for most, if not all of this fic. For this I apologize; future updates will correct this.

Janeway has been aware of Section 31’s existence since the VGR novel “Section 31: Shadow” by Dean Wesley Smith and Kristine Kathryn Rusch.

“Legacy of the Force: Betrayal” shows that Lumiya was aware of Palpatine’s Sith name (information possibly passed on by the Jedi Vergere if Lumiya’s story is to be believed). It is thus reasonable to assume that she might also know the Sith identities of both Maul and Dooku.

Palas’ “Hallowed” comment is a stab at the blessings of the Ori from Stargate SG-1’s ninth season onwards.