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The Crouton Generation Archives
In honor of Freddie Mercury's (1946-1991) unearthly voice...
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"Here we are..."
A trio of geometric shapes moved through space, the classic cubical
designs of the Borg Collective's fleet. No one but the Borg knew how many
ships they had, or at least no one in the Federation knew. Of the three
moving through this part of the Federation, one incorporated a great deal
of technology from a peaceful world in the Small Magellanic Cloud that once
traded in culture and history with the Federation. That world no longer
supported the civilization that had produced that culture and technology.
Like so many civilizations in the Small Magellanic Cloud's larger companion
galaxy, that civilization was now one with the Borg.
"Born to be kings..."
Sejanus of Borg, who was until very recently one of the democratically
elected leaders of Camelot's representative monarchy, moved away from the
external view monitor he had been observing and trudged off down a typically
functional, yet barren-looking corridor inside the latter of the aforemen-
tioned ships.
"We're the princes of the Universe."
The Borg were the ultimate consumers. Q himself had told Picard that.
The Borg were the utmost in efficiency. The Borg wished only to improve the
quality of life for all species, by incorporating them into themselves. The
Borg were the logical direction for evolution. Charles Darwin might have
been pleased, or at least so the Borg believed.
"Here we belong..."
For the past sixty-odd years, the Borg had been trying to assimilate the
United Federation of Planets, a very large, well-developed social entity with
great diversity of culture, technology and biology. It would have suited the
Borg's purposes well, except that its member entities somehow managed to
outwit the Borg time and again, though not without great loss. In a war of
attrition, only the Borg could win. Yet, despite logic, the Borg were worried
by their inability to assimilate the Federation. Even attempts at explaining
the logical benefits of assimilation proved futile to these beings. Humanity
and its friends were quite stubborn.
"Fighting to survive in a world with the darkest powers."
In the beginning, Locutus, or Jean-Luc Picard as he preferred to be known,
had proven to be the great sticking point in the Borg's plans. Ironically,
the Borg had learned a great deal from him. Complete unity, the complete lack
of any individuality amongst members of the Collective, despite its logical
benefits, somehow did not work in practice. Locutus had given them an early
lesson about the power of the individual. Hugh gave them another, bolder
lesson. The Borg took the hint and changed their outlook. Each ship was now
an individual entity within the Collective, working toward the greater goal,
but by its own means. The millions of inhabitants of each ship formed the
ship's collective identity, and the union of the ships formed the identity of
the entire Collective. Multi-processing not only prevented accidental self-
genocide, but it also improved the Collective's ability to defeat its enemies
and increased the range of Borg influence.
"And here we are! We're the princes of the Universe."
Sejanus, who functioned as the figurehead Speaker for his ship, observed,
through the thoughts of others on the ship, that they were approaching their
target. The three ships popped out of warp on the outskirts of the Alpha
Centauri system, some 4.3 light-years from a target of old -- Sol 3. Earth.
Earth was irrelevant now. Earth would be assimilated when the time came, but
another world captured the Borg's attention. A treasure more valuable than
any found on Earth waited there.
"Here we belong, fighting for survival!"
Once the mighty Borg had swept across their side of the Milky Way, bit
by bit, assimilating whatever they found and improving their culture and
technology in leaps and bounds. The Federation had proven a stumbling block,
but it could have been defeated.
"We've come to be the rulers of your world!"
It could have been defeated if the Collective had been able to allocate
a greater portion of its resources to the effort. Regrettably, for Sejanus
and his numerous compatriots, this had not been possible. A greater portion
of the Collective's resources were needed to combat a bigger problem. Even
in its rejection of all things Borg, humanity had helped the Borg combat this
menace in its own way. But more help was needed, as attrition wore down the
Collective. Help was needed immediately. The Borg needed the Federation to
survive...and if the Federation was to survive, it needed the Borg.
* * * * *
Avenger sat in darkness in the VIP Quarters he was beginning to call home
again. He had lived here before, with T'Lilith, during the first mission to
the Small Magellanic Cloud. Only a few years, yet so much had changed. He
chose to retain these quarters upon his return to the _Croutonprize_. The
Captain's Cabin had remained empty since the death of Christopher Crouton, as
Highlander had remained in his own cabin out of respect for his former comman-
der. Avenger now did the same.
The door chimed. Strangely, he had merely to look at the door in a
certain way to cause it to open for the Scotsman on the other side.
"I am immortal. I have inside me blood of kings."
Highlander entered the room cautiously, partially because his night
vision had yet to take hold. Avenger ignored him for the moment, although
acknowledging his presence, and looked out into the darkness of space for
an answer...or at least a reasonably good question.
He couldn't find one.
"I have no rival. No man can be my equal."
"What are you thinking about?" Highlander asked finally.
Avenger finally turned to Highlander. To his own amazement and shock,
he found himself confiding in the man.
"I've lived a long life, yet I am still very young."
If he only knew, thought Highlander.
"Why are they so interested in *humanity*? Why are they trying again
after so many failures?"
"The Borg seem pretty f***ing single-minded if you ask me."
"That's the funny thing, Number One. I'm beginning to believe they are
more complex than we can possibly imagine." Avenger sighed as he began to
selectively remove strands of hair. "Something is bothering them. I can
almost feel it...yet I don't know why." Avenger paused, inhaling deeply.
"They're so...alien."
"Permission to speak freely, sir?"
"Of course."
"You have the uncanny knack for restating the obvious. If Crossfire
hadn't already used the line about the Betazoid counselor on Kevin..."
"I see what you're getting at..." Avenger stood and pulled a Picard
Maneuver. "You know, Number One, someday I'm going to find out what makes
the Borg tick."
"Take me to the future of your world."
FADE TO CREDITS
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
STAR TREK: THE CROUTON GENERATION
"The Perfect Game"
Part 13: "Ace in the Hole"
Written by The Admiral
Guest stars
Robert Patrick
Vicki Holzhauer
D. Joseph Creighton
Special guest stars
Kirk Douglas
Sean Connery as Sejanus
Norman Schwartzkopf as Adm. Bowman
Special appearance by
Michelle Pfeiffer as The Ultimate Blonde
Music by Queen
Directed by Russell Mulcahy
Notes:
[1] A reference to the Lucky Charms Invasion of ST:TCG Season Two.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
"There it is," stated Crossfire.
"What is?" wondered Avenger as he stood from Science Station 2, tugging
his uniform into place.
"Star Fleet Tactical reports six Borg vessels converging on the Alpha
Centauri system."
"Damn." Avenger looked around the bridge and cleared his throat. Crew
members stopped and turned expectantly. He tapped his communicator.
"All hands, your attention. Battle stations. This is not a drill. The
Borg have finally chosen a target and it is Alpha Centauri. I know some of
you have friends or family there, so let's all do our best so they will be
able to remember our efforts. Qapla'."
"Good speech," commented Zort.
Avenger nodded, then pointed at Crossfire's console. "Zeph, get hold of
Star Fleet and request backup. This one won't be easy."
"_Kyushu_ and _Hood_ are already on their way," Crossfire reported.
"I'll see what else I can do."
Avenger nodded and walked down to the command area.
"Mr. Himle, Mr. Chuang...lay in a course for Proxima Centauri, Jolt 4.
Load in your macros and get ready to rumble."
"Sir, Proxima is approximately two light-months from Alpha Cen IV,"
Neal informed the Admiral. "Are you sure that's where you want to go?"
"Absolutely," replied Avenger. "Proxima's flare activity should provide
a sensor shield so that we can sneak in on the Borg."
"Very good, sir."
"Karim, get Colonel Rust's men up and ready. We may need them."
"Aye, sir." Highlander left the bridge.
Avenger assumed a thinker's pose in the command chair. "This is going
to be interesting..."
* * * * *
The Borg swarmed about Alpha Centauri's fourth planet like a hive of
angry bees. First one, then another cube, would reach out with its tractor
beams in an effort to lift cities from the face of the planet. Planetary
defense systems and the few starships on hand would fight back, but (to coin
a phrase) resistance appeared futile.
Before the Borg knew what hit them, _Croutonprize_ and its wingships
opened up with all weapons on two of the cubes. Taken by surprise, the two
cubes took a great deal of damage and withdrew to the perimeter of the
system momentarily for repairs. The Star Fleet crews knew they would not
be gone long though.
Stalemate. Further resistance by the Federation starships did little
but disrupt Borg attempts to lift cities from the planet. The Borg gave up
lifting cities and turned instead on the starships.
With _Croutonprize_ and the rest held firmly in tractor beams, the two
returning cubes could now concentrate on the planet.
* * * * *
The _Croutonprize_ bridge rocked as a Borg tractor tried to penetrate
the ship's defensive shielding. Avenger watched the two cubes on the far
side of the planet. They moved from city to city, lifting, probing, poking.
"What are they looking for?"
The bridge rocked again.
"Shields failing!" Himle reported.
Crossfire struggled with his console, trying to find the combination of
firepower that would release the ship from the mighty grip of the facing cube.
" Warning," stated Zen. "Hull rupture in Cargo Bay 2."
"We can't take much more of this," Susan reported.
"Well, I'm doing the best I can!" exclaimed Crossfire.
Highlander leapt to his feet. "I'll take an away team over and disrupt
their concentration, give you the opportunity you need."
"You'll do no such thing, Number One," said Avenger. "The Borg aren't
as single-minded as they used to be."
Avenger looked around for a rim-shot. Susan and Zort groaned.
"If we don't do something to f*** with them, sir," pressed Highlander,
"the _Croutonprize_ will be nothing but powdered toast in a few minutes."
"Crossfire, Soraya, other options?"
"Um..." Soraya stammered.
"Er..." For once, Crossfire was at a loss.
Highlander drew himself up to full attention before Avenger. "Admiral,
I have something to say."
"To quote our misguided cybernetic friends, 'You may speak.'"
"It's better to burn out than to fade away. Sir."
"You're going whether I like it or not?"
"F***ing right."
"All right, if you're that convinced. Commander Highlander will lead an
away team to the Borg vessel."
Crossfire looked to Soraya for confirmation and she looked to him for the
same. Were they missing something here?
"No unnecessary risks. Got that?"
"Aye, sir," Highlander nodded, turning to leave.
"Good luck, Number One."
Highlander stopped at the turbolift and smiled at Avenger. "Thank you,
*Captain*."
* * * * *
"Phasers on dissociate," Highlander ordered as his team climbed onto the
Croutonizer pads.
"Mrow mrowr mewor meowr rowr rowrp? [Isn't that a might steep?]" Jez
asked as he set both of his miniature phaser rifles appropriately.
"I don't intend to waste time over there, Mr. Jez." Highlander looked
across to Taubman. "Croutonize."
"I've got to get off this crazy tub," Taubman sub-vocalized as he sent
the away team into the heart of the Borg vessel.
* * * * *
"Spooky-looking," Lt. Holzhauer commented. She unbuckled her tricorder
from its pouch at the waist of her blue science uniform and began to scan the
surroundings.
"I've seen worse," Highlander noted, remembering the large pot of gold
he and Crossfire had visited two years before. [1]
"Sure is quiet," said Ensign Creighton, nervously shifting his phaser
rifle from one shoulder to the other.
"Mrow mrowr rowr rowr rowp. Meow meowr rowp. [Be vewy vewy quiet.
We're hunting Elmers.]" whispered Jez as he crept forward slowly with a
miniature phaser rifle in each front paw.
"Please dispense with the humor, Mr. Jez." Highlander scanned the
horizon. "Where do we start?"
"There seems to be a higher concentration of energy and activity down
this way, Commander." Holzhauer pointed with one hand, holding out the
tricorder with the other.
"Good work, Vicki. Let's get moving."
* * * * *
Jez dashed suddenly in front of Highlander, rubbing his tail along the
Scotsman's rough legs and nearly tripping him. He stopped, putting up a hand
to halt the rest. Jez motioned around the corner with his head.
Several Borg swarmed around in a larger room, making preparations for
something. Highlander pointed to a low point a few feet away and each of
the away team quietly slipped into position at floor level.
"So what do we do?" Creighton whispered.
"Look and listen," Highlander replied. He settled himself in, aiming
his rifle and bringing one of the Borg into his sight. He zeroed in on the
neural exonetwork, when the Borg suddenly stepped away.
"There's no time for us..."
Highlander caught the vision of a mane of blonde hair, with a well-
defined feminine figure attached to it. There could be no mistake.
"It's her," exclaimed Highlander, stunned with shock and surprise.
"Who?" hissed Creighton, trying to keep Highlander's voice down.
"There's no place for us..."
"The Ultimate Blonde!" beamed Highlander as he bounced into the open.
"Sir, get down!" Holzhauer shrieked. She reached out to grab hold of
Highlander's pants leg, only to discover in her futility that _Croutonprize_'s
first officer wore a kilt below his uniform tunic.
"What is this thing that builds our dreams..."
Highlander approached the strange woman with a smile a light-year wide.
Putting on all of his charm, he holstered his phaser and extended a hand.
"They call me Highlander. I've been waiting all my life for--"
"...yet slips away from us?"
His glee turned to fearful shock as the woman turned to face him. She
may once have had the beauty to launch a thousand ships, but the machinery
wired into her skull revealed a power to sink ten thousand more. While she
was absolutely beautiful, she was also absolutely deadly...
"Who wants to live forever?"
With a hint of seduction, the Borg-woman spoke. Her pleasant voice
echoed with a variety of male and female voices over a range of two octaves
or more. "Highlander, First Officer of the _USS Croutonprize_. A fine
specimen. You will be assimilated."
"F***!" yelled Highlander, rooted in place, his eyes wide. "F***!
F***! F***!"
She moved toward him, her mechanical arm outstretched. He drew his
katana out of its scabbard. The laser beam projected from above her left
eye reflected off the blade into his own eyes, causing him to clamp them
shut as he stumbled backward.
"Who wants to live foreveeeer?"
"Commander!" yelled Ensign Creighton, jumping out into the open, phaser
rifle up and ready. Borg began to flow from their distant wall units toward
the security team like an upset nest of hornets. Creighton's comrades pulled
him back to the relative safety of their cover.
Highlander and the Borg-woman stood toe to toe, face to face.
"Your knowledge and experience will serve us well," she said. "This
power you call the Quickening should be advantageous."
"You're f***ing crazy if you think I'll let you--" Highlander struggled
against this woman, whose Borg implants gave her equal, if not much greater
physical strength.
"YOUR resistance is futile, Number One." Her pale circuit-ridden face
broke into a sweet smile, temporarily dropping his guard. She took advantage
of his hormone-plagued condition, moving forward and pulling the ancient
Japanese weapon from his hands. "You will enjoy the Collective, Highlander."
She paused as her face took on a darker, yet still quite seductive, tone.
"You will be with ME always."
"Nooo!"
"I was created for *you*, Commander. Missycutus knew your weakness.
Sejanus found my body, cold and starving, tired and afraid. He brought me
into the Collective and gave me warmth, energy, shelter. In return, I have
given the Collective my love."
Highlander realized that referred not only to her feelings of unity with
the rest of the Collective, but to him as well. This truly was the Ultimate
Blonde he had been seeking!
The struggle continued as he fought to break her loving grip. She held
on, desperate to restrain him long enough for her fellow Borg to begin the
assimilation...
"We have to do something!" Creighton exclaimed. "Lieutenant, what do
we do???"
"Rrrroowwwrrrr..." Jez was confused, emotions clouding his judgment.
His gut instinct was to cut his losses and get his surviving team members out
while he still could...but he couldn't just leave his commanding officer, his
friend behind...
Sejanus approached, still regal in his carriage despite the motley array
of electronics integrated into his body. His soldiers moved forward, ready
to take the security team.
"Rowp ssss rowr! [Oh, to hell with it!]" Jez charged forward, running
between the legs of the various Borg. His pattern was random, their ability
to compensate nil. Several lost their balance in the confusion and struggled
to right themselves. Jez's team moved forward to help, but found the wall of
Borg impassible. Only Jez could get to the Highlander.
Highlander continued his struggle, fighting to break free from the woman
of his dreams. How could this have happened? How could THEY have gotten to
her first??? Was there no sense of justice in the Universe?????
Jez rushed forward to assist, but found himself blocked by more Borg.
These drones were built with less armor for more agility and were grasping
low in attempts to catch him. Just what we need, thought Jez. KittyBorg.
Several emotionless Borg moved forward and took Highlander from the
Blonde. She followed them to a surgical table which grew out of a wall unit,
upon which he was placed and strapped down. Highlander's emotions drained
from his body. His drive, his desire now gone, he found himself in an empty
shell he no longer recognized.
The Borg swarmed around him, preparing their instruments. The Blonde
bent down to smile sweetly in his face. Such a nice smile...yet so evil in
its intent.
Jez tried to break through the crowd, but to no avail. As it finally
parted, if only for a moment, Jez witnessed the scene that was playing out.
He yowled in torment at the sight. The Blonde turned toward him and smiled
her sweet smile, then stretched out in a very...feline manner.
"Oh, kitty," the Blonde squealed. "I feel so much yummier now."
That did it. The straw that broke the Highlander's back. Struggling
against his bonds, his captors and their needles and approaching implants,
his rage boiled to the surface. Adrenalin began to flow...
"Mrow rowrrrrr!!!" Jez shouted his frustration to his friend, his
commander.
"Jez!" shouted Highlander, struggling against his captors. "Get your
people and get the f*** out of here!!"
"ROWWWRRR!!"
"YOU HEARD ME!!"
More Borg disengaged from the walls and approached Jez's team. They did
their best to hold their own, but the fight was lost. More Borg swarmed in
around the struggling Highlander, fighting to hold him down, trying to assimi-
late him. The Blonde Borg took an avid interest in the activity, enjoying an
almost orgasmic response to the Scotsman's pain. Sejanus broke through the
crowd to observe the procedure...with a hint of amusement on his otherwise
impassive face.
Jez whined. Jez squealed. Then Jez resigned himself. Looking back at
Highlander one last time and receiving another "GET THE F*** OUT OF HERE!!"
for his trouble, he turned and ran back to his team, darting around and
between the legs of unwary Borg upon his way.
More instruments, sharp cables and other varied substances took their
place above the Highlander. He continued to fight against his bonds, doing
his best to break free. The restraints stretched to their limits, bolts
whining out complaints against the stress and strain.
Two Borg held the katana, examining it closely in order for the Sejanus
Collective to determine its usefulness in the Highlander's assimilated body
wear. The Blonde smiled her giddy smile. Sejanus nodded approvingly. Jez
looked back, as he reached relative safety, one final time as Commander
Highlander pulled free of his restraints, snapping bolts and breaking straps
all at once.
"Who wants to live foreveeeeeer?"
He yanked his sword from the drones and leapt toward Sejanus. From
seemingly out of nowhere, Sejanus' biological arm brought the King's own
blade to bear. Metal rang out upon metal. Highlander screamed and lunged.
Sejanus calmly parried and looked Highlander straight in the eye.
"You will be assimilated."
"F*** that."
"Resistance is futile."
"F*** you."
Highlander lunged again. Swing after swing, clang after clang. The
Scotsman drove Sejanus back, back, back.
"There can be only one!!!!!" the Scotsman roared as he lunged forward.
But it was then that he made one fatal error.
Sejanus saw the opening and brought his arm around hard. With the
strength of a million individual minds thinking as one, he forced the sword
home.
THOOP. Sejanus' blade slide across the Highlander's neck, cleanly
removing his head in one swift motion. Sejanus' blade fell from his hand and
clnaged loudly on the floor. Jez and his crew stopped in horror, watching
everything as if in slow motion.
Highlander's head sailed into the air, then landed and rolled across to
a stop at Sejanus' feet. Sejanus looked down at it with the kind of curiosity
only a Borg could keep.
A blue static discharge played over Highlander's body. Another leapt
from his head to his body. The discharge grew in strength and leapt from the
corpse to the surrounding Borg soldiers, immoblizing them in a field of blue
lightning.
"_Croutonprize_," yelled Ensign Brooks into his communicator. "We need
immediate transport!"
"Mrow! Meow!" [Yeah, what he said!] added Jez.
The blue lightning expanded its range, hitting distribution nodes and
coursing through the entire ship, networking itself through power and thought
transference centers. Another bolt lanced out directly at Sejanus of Borg,
who suddenly looked up, opening his eyes and mouth wide with a bone-chilling
and very human scream.
* * * * *
"What's going on?" asked Soraya.
"Admiral," reported Crossfire. "Sejanus' shields and tractors have all
dropped. They're defenseless."
"What is going ON??" repeated Soraya.
Jez bounded out of the turbolift with an answer. "Meowr mrowp hissrp
mrowp." [It's the Quickening.]
"Oh no!" exclaimed Susan.
"Not the Commander!" howled Himle.
"Not Highlander!" cried Soraya.
"Not a moment to lose," suggested Crossfire, rigid.
"FIRE!!!" ordered Avenger.
And Crossfire did. The _Volvo_ and the _Plasma_ quickly followed the
_Croutonprize_'s lead and added their own high energy barrage. Sejanus' ship
held together for three seconds more before collapsing in upon itself from the
final torpedo hit. The explosion that followed was catastrophic...and much
more powerful than anything Avenger or Crossfire had ever seen, even at Vulcan
eleven years before. Blue lightning arced out in every direction, glancing
across shields, ships and the stratosphere of Alpha Cen IV as the Highlander's
last gasp carried into the depths of deep space.
The bridge crew of the _Croutonprize_ stood in stunned silence.
* * * * *
The security panel began to chirp again finally, drawing Crossfire's
attention back to matters at hand.
"Admiral, the remaining ships have moved in for the kill. The capitol
is being uprooted--"
"Damn it. What more can we do?"
"Not much."
The closest Borg ship locked a tractor beam onto the _Croutonprize_,
primarily to keep it out of the way as its neighbor feasted on the planet.
"Incoming Star Fleet vessel!" Susan announced.
"Who's close enough?" Avenger wondered aloud.
Crossfire's face lit up for just a second. "_Nostromo_, sir. Admiral
Bowman sends his regards."
"Out of mothballs?"
The ship shuddered as the tractor began to carve into the hull, but the
Borg began to divert some of their attention to the new threat.
"Admiral Bowman is hailing all ships," reported Himle.
"Tie us in, please."
"Attention all Star Fleet vessels," announced Bowman gruffly from the
center seat of the _Nostromo_. "By order of the Star Fleet Commander, I am
in command of this situation under Article XVII, Paragraph 3, Subparagraph
2(b) of the Star Fleet Emergency Code. Prepare your ships for a Sigma 35
extraction on my command, should it become necessary."
"What the--?!" Avenger leapt to his feet, livid. Bowman transmitted
one-way, so he did not notice.
"Your orders will be relayed by Code 17-Epsilon on a secured channel.
Follow them to the letter and with haste. We are now at T-level security.
All non-essential personnel should remove themselves from bridge stations
at once. Black box logs will record bridge operations ONLY and the bridge
will cut itself off from most intraship communications. Further actions
should not be discussed with non T-cleared personnel without permission from
a command or flag officer. _Nostromo_ out."
"He's got something up his sleeve," smiled Crossfire. "Or he wouldn't
have gone to this much trouble. Cavalry's not the half of it."
"But what the hell do they think they're doing??? This is disruptive
and sneaky!" Avenger struck the arm of his chair HARD, eliciting a series
of squeaks and squawks from it. "You heard the man, Crossfire. Enforce
T-level security. Non-essential personnel off the bridge NOW."
A few minor crew members headed toward the turbolifts, grumbling about
how the studio would pay them that much less this week. Jez rounded up the
excess security personnel and walked them off the bridge.
* * * * *
Bundy looked up from the small screen at Heins. "They want us to do
what???"
"We're the bait." Heins stood and called to Youtz. "Prepare to
follow _Croutonprize_ out past the Borg ships. And be careful." He
pushed his way past Lt. Max and took over the security console. "It may
not be as easy as Bowman thinks."
* * * * *
"Now." Chuang pushed the _Croutonprize_ forward. _Volvo_ and other
ships followed, the group making a close pass by one of the Borg vessels.
On closest approach, Crossfire, Heins and the various other weapons control
officers aboard the ships opened up on the Borg ships and grabbed them with
tractor beams, attempting to pull them away from the planet.
Soraya tapped a comm panel and contacted Taubman in the Croutonizer
room. "Engage Phase 2."
All of the ships lowered their shields long enough to active their
Croutonizers briefly. Then their shields went up and they began to pull
away from the planet. Four of the Borg vessels followed the _Croutonprize_
group away from the planet.
"They fell for it," Himle said.
As they neared the third planet of the Alpha Centauri system, the
starship formation suddenly broke and the ships jumped away at near light
speed. _Nostromo_, having followed the Borg ships in, fired.
A single glowing torpedo erupted from its No. 2 torpedo tube and glided
toward the cluster of Borg ships.
The latest operational orders from _Nostromo_ cleared Zen's translator
and scrolled across Himle's screen. He read it aloud. "Withdraw 10 AU
immediately."
"10 AU?" Soraya wondered aloud.
"Engage, Mr. Chuang." Avenger's brow wrinkled further. He looked at
Soraya and shrugged, then they both looked up to Crossfire.
"I don't know what's going on either," offered Crossfire.
Despite all the careful planning, the Borg easily figured out how to
evade the torpedo. Somehow, they sensed its purpose, and fired their tractor
beams. The beams failed to destroy the torpedo, instead deflecting its
course. It sailed right over the planet and straight on toward one of
the hot Centauri suns.
Bowman suddenly tensed as he appeared on all starships viewscreens, his
face filled with genuine fear. "Sigma 35 extraction. This is NOT a drill!"
The _Nostromo_ joined the _Croutonprize_ and the rest in a quick burst
of Jolt Warp. The ships jumped OUT of the Alpha Centauri system and beyond.
The Borg happily ignored the retreating vessels and pounced on Alpha Cen IV.
Avenger leapt out of his chair again and whirled toward Crossfire as the
_Croutonprize_ passed the Centauri heliopause.
"What the hell is going on h--?!?" Avenger was cut off by a brilliant
flash that engulfed the bridge around him. Soraya's gasp was almost a scream.
Susan shielded her eyes, more from disbelief than fear of being blinded. Zort
stopped typing in mid-code, but dared not turn to look. He already grasped
what had just happened. Crossfire simply stared, dumbfounded.
Avenger turned around...very slowly. Three years later, as he completed
the turn, he appeared to be perfectly composed. This was, of course, a
perfectly executed cover for his true feelings.
"Get. Bowman. On. Line. In. My. Office." He spoke slowly and quietly,
enunciating every phonic. "Z-level security. No one speaks until I tell you
to. No one breathes until I tell you to. Crossfire and Soraya, with me."
He walked straight toward the Ready Room and did not look back. Soraya
looked up to Crossfire for explanation but found none. He stared at the nova
for several seconds, then automated the security systems and followed Soraya.
* * * * *
"You. Used. A. F***ing. Genesis. Device," spat Avenger. "Didn't you?!?"
"How could you possibly--?"
"My main specialty at the Academy was astrophysics! Sub-main sequence G
stars do not nova. There's only one way I know how to cause it and Carol
Marcus was responsible. Now answer my damn question!"
Bowman was still too shocked to put up much resistance against the fiery
_Croutonprize_ commander. "Van Tripp didn't think there was any other way.
It wasn't supposed to happen like this!"
"Use of a Genesis Device is morally and ethically wrong...and when you
add in the Borg, it's just plain STUPID! I can't believe what you people
have done!! THINK OF EVERYONE YOU JUST KILLED!!"
"I don't understand," Soraya whispered shakily.
To Bowman, Avenger said, "I am authorizing declassification of Genesis
materials to Lt. Cdr. Soraya Ghiasi and Lt. Cdr. Crossfire on this stardate.
My new command staff needs to be in on this." He typed a few commands into
his data terminal, formalizing the clearance, and whirled the screen around
to where Soraya could read it.
Crossfire ignored the terminal and turned to Avenger. "I was briefed on
Genesis eight years ago, Admiral," Crossfire explained. "I am fully aware of
what has just happened."
Avenger acknowledged Crossfire with a glance and whirled back to the
viewer, fire in his eyes. "What secret did Alpha Centauri IV hold that was
worth THIS cost, Admiral Bowman?!? What could possibly be worth the lives of
twenty-five billion of our citizens?!"
Bowman no longer presented the powerful military image Crossfire was so
used to. Instead, he was on the verge of tears, stumbling over his words,
awash in guilt and afright with horror. "We b-believe they were trying to
infilitrate a classified Star Fleet project." He took a breath and choked
back his emotions. "They were going to assimilate the design team out from
under us."
"Classified project?"
"Here." Bowman transmitted a description of the project directly to
Avenger's terminal.
Crossfire whistled appreciatively. Soraya read down the screen, then
sank her head into her hands. Avenger glanced over the material impassively
while trying to digest everything that had happened.
"If they'd gotten hold of this..." began Crossfire.
"If they got hold of this, we'd ALL be Borg by now." Avenger shook his
head at the stupidity of it all. Anger and despair clashed within him, his
blood pressure soared and his stomach filled with acid.
"Was it worth 25 billion lives?" he finally asked.
"It wasn't meant to happen this way! We were to take out as many Borg
vessels as we could with one shot. The rest of you would have been able to
clear out the rest, plus the momentary confusion would have disrupted the
Borg's attentions long enough to Croutonize out the design team."
"Even if it had worked, I still can't find justification for using a
Genesis Device. In any situation. Against any enemy. If we hadn't seen it
just happen, I wouldn't have been sure it would even work against the Borg!"
"Admiral, I'm not sure of anything right now!" admitted Bowman. "I can't
justify what just happened." He sighed. "I don't think I should even try."
Avenger cushioned his next words by swallowing his anger and lowering his
voice. "Craig, you're relieved here. Take _Nostromo_ back to Earth."
Bowman nodded. Defeat and resignation washed over him. For the first
time in his life, he truly felt OLD.
"We'll discuss this when I get back. As far as Star Fleet is concerned,
you've been relieved by your chief medical officer and are merely resuming
your retirement. The stress of the day was too much for you. You are not,
repeat NOT, to report to the Star Fleet Commander. Wesley Van Tripp is being
relieved as of this stardate, at least as far as I'm concerned."
"You can do that?" asked Soraya.
"I won't need to," said Avenger. "The Federation Council will take care
of him when I feed him to them!"
"You can't go to the Council with this!" Crossfire interjected. "You'd
tear the Federation apart faster than the Borg could!"
Avenger started to argue, but then stopped abruptly. "Damn. Why do you
always have to be right?" Avenger walked around the desk and pressed a finger
into Crossfire's collarbone. "Very annoying thing about you."
Avenger paced the floor. "I have to do something. Some irresponsible
son of a bitch is going to fry for this."
"General Order 72," suggested Bowman.
"General Order 72," repeated Crossfire, nodding.
Avenger and Soraya looked knowingly at one another.
"Thank you, Craig," said Avenger, sincerely. "We will provide you with
an escort back to Earth. _Croutonprize_ out."
Avenger looked at Crossfire now. "I need a favor."
"Ambassador Kennedy?"
"Affirmative."
"Yes, sir. I'll take care of it."
Avenger hung his head in silence. The pain of all that had happened in
the past few hours washed over him, then Soraya and Crossfire too. He finally
looked up at them, bleary-eyed.
"Commander Ghiasi, I'm field promoting you and appointing you as my new
Executive Officer. Lt. Cdr. Crossfire, I'm afraid we're going to need you as
our new No. 2 until we figure out what's going on." He removed one of his
infamous "Number Two" buttons from his desk and tossed it dispassionately at
Crossfire, who grabbed it out of the air out of pure instinct. "I'm sorry to
put the extra pressure on you right now, but I really need your help. BOTH
of you."
Avenger looked to each of them for a reaction. Soraya was still too
shocked by the whole turn of events to respond with even a glance. Crossfire's
face showed nothing apart from a growing eagerness to manually rip the tiny
electronic components one by one from any Borg that crossed his path.
Avenger stood, with a vigor that could only come from an adrenalin rush.
He turned his back abruptly on his new command staff and looked out once more
into the darkness of space and the bright glow of the nearby nova.
"I'm too young for an ulcer," he sighed, leaning against the window's
edge, resting his head on one arm. He reflected on the loss that he felt the
deepest and soon whispered, "There could be only one..."
FADE TO BLACK
----------------------------------------------------------------------
On the next exciting episode of
STAR TREK: THE CROUTON GENERATION
"The Perfect Game"
Part 14: "Mathers of Importance"
Avenger's off the deep end...
Muirden: Maybe he's been replaced by a pod person.
As the crews mourn the death of Highlander...
[ Kabeta and Kleber in Ten Forward. ]
Kabeta: You've been called upon to speak his death.
But will the press uncover Star Fleet's secret?
[ Admiral Wesley Van Tripp in FNN studios. ]
Larry King: Admiral, we know the Borg are interested in our technology. Was
there something the Centaurans had they were looking for?
SUPPRESSED FEELINGS and SUBTERFUGE on STAR TREK: THE CROUTON GENERATION!
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