Chapter 9
Destiny
Imperial Galaxy - Outer Rim - Outland Transit Station
Outland Transit Station, the most notorious, scum-ridden trade outpost in the galaxy is situated far from regular commerce routes. Eighty-thousand pirates, scoundrels, traders, gamblers, and prostitutes called it home, with another ten million visitors coming throughout the year. A one of a kind cesspool of vice and immoral-aptitude.
The heavy clunking noise of the trios boots disappeared into the vast multi-story hanger bay. Stretching for several kilometers, it serviced many small and medium-sized merchant ships on a daily basis.
Han, Chewie, and Luke slowed their pace, looking around to take it all in.
"Smell that kid?" A big whiff filling the smuggler's lungs, the damp atmosphere drifting with dank stale filth. Still the same
"Great Han, where to?" asked Luke. The smell reminded him of old mildew, the same in the cave on Dagobah.
Their mission, to uncover the details of a 'new day' initiative the Empire launched several months ago. Word continued to spread throughout the systems that the Imperials sought bounty hunters looking for a change of scenery. Yes, it is true the Empire often recruited bounty hunters to achieve specific goals deemed politically sensitive, but this program captured all the necessary ingredients of a galaxy-wide effort. According to rebel spies, thousands of recruited bounty hunters were carted off in various directions without a trace. The underground information web spun far and wide, and yet even in the whispers in the dingiest of bars on the most forbidden worlds their fate seemed uncertain. Han counted on his old connections to help the Rebellion ascertain the 'hunters' locations. Chewie murmured something to Han as the three rested up against a guardrail overlooking one of the 'streets' in the merchant district.
"You said it...lost a lot of money here," said Han staring out into the sea of bobbing heads, whistling as the memories came pouring back, "...lots...of money." Chewie growled while pointing a hairy finger towards one of the commercial stands,
"Wow, it's still here, lost eight thousand credits in that dump." Chewie shot him a look, "...you said I had until next year to pay you back."
Luke felt uneasy, his initial reservations about the mission being verified by the second.
"Han, are you sure we are going to be able to walk around here, maybe someone you swindled is going to recognize you,"
The smuggler turned his head in total shock,
"Luke, we did many good deals around here, right Chewie?" said Han slapping his friend's shoulder. "...we did good deals, hardly any of them went sour. A few went sour...actually…" Luke could not help but roll his eyes as he saw doubt creeping onto Han's face, "...we had a few bad ones...really bad… but a few good." Han offered a smug nod and the trio started off towards the merchant sector.
Pushing through hordes of vermin-pirates and sweaty inhabitants, music and shouting bombarded their ears as each shop, canteen, bar, or storefront offered something different. The internal maze-city, closely resembling a shanty-town, felt overrun with homeless merchants and drug runners lying low or unconscious between the stores. Luke's senses stayed on high alert, his hand no more than a few inches from his lightsaber beneath his brown cloak.
After a long walk, Han stopped in front of a rundown Deli.
"Karm, how are ya?" asked Solo with a grin. Disgusting clumps of tentacle and fish slop overflowed from a trough and oozed onto the sticky floor. A slithery alien with twenty eyes twitched, making strange gurgling noises while it jabbered at Solo.
"Oh, I forgot about that, uh, listen, I'm a little short…" Karm repeated the same sound sequence, and Han couldn't hide his reluctance as he leaned towards Chewie. "Just pay him what I owe, and then we can get the info and get out of here."
Luke watched in amazement, there must not be a single person Han has not double-crossed or cheated. Chewie handed over the credit chips which Karm counted carefully before ushering them into a back room where an enormously fat alien waited.
"Solo, you scoundrel, what brings you to this corner of the galaxy?" asked the repulsive merchant, its flabby flesh quivering all over.
"Need some information,"
"Oh ya?" He slobbered.
"Heard there are some good contracts for bounty hunters,"
"I sell fish, what do I know?"
Luke carefully looked the man over, not with his vision, but through the Force. He sensed weakness, fear, joy, passion, drive and many other aspects of the fat merchants being. He felt his weak mind, and how quickly it could be tricked or convinced. I should tell these people was the mental suggestion.
A moment later,
"Ok, listen, I get contracts, but I farm them out, I get twenty percent." I should tell them everything came the next impulse. "These contracts are for information gathering; it's crazy Han! Crazy! The Empire wants these bounty hunters to find them information, to blend in, I don't know. I guess they hide and get information, or they become citizens, I'm not sure really. Fifteen thousand credits for six months, it's great."
Han raised an eyebrow, that is a lot of money,
"Where are they going? What information?"
"I don't know where they go, but I know they have to go get a new ship in the Kuat docks, custom built for them. Can you believe it? Custom built ships for bounty hunters!"
"A new ship and lots of money, I'd like one of those contracts, but where do I go? What part of the galaxy do I end up in?"
"Ask my boy Ruuni; he just got back."
Luke felt a sudden danger! A blaster aiming to take a shot directly behind him. Spinning around and igniting his lightsaber, a bolt struck his saber and deflected back to its shooter. A hole the size of a fist blew through the chest of an unknown alien. Panic and chaos erupted in the streets and screams and confusion swept the marketplace. All around, merchants and customers alike dove under tables or leaped through doorways, anything and everything to find cover. But Luke moved undeterred towards his would-be assassin. As the steaming body slumped to the floor, Luke drove in with the power of the Force, this is Runni. He pushed his abilities to the limit, where have you been? What have you seen? There it is..oh my… Vivid images flashed and ebbed. Another galaxy… While trying to process the experiences, another sensation swept over him, something else.
One he had not sensed since… Yavin
Luke reached out with a hand and shoved his friend aside,
"Han get down!"
The flimsy merchant wall exploded inward with chunks of durasteel and polycrete blasting all over. Luke spun around to meet the intruder. Red and blue lightsabers connected in a torrent of energy.
Vader! This is impossible! Luke saw his own reflection staring back at him through the slick and shiny armored helmet. Both men were locked in place, unwavering.
A Force projection of dark power obliterated the room and Han and Chewie sailed through the air, tumbling end over end through people and merchandise. Luke felt the darkside power, pushing into him, not allowing for disengagement to help his friends. Everything he could muster focused on the Dark Lord.
And focus he did.
Luke disconnected his lightsaber and struck hard, letting his strength and Force energy flow into a single swing. Connecting with a tonnage of power, Vader's wrists buckled under the stress. The Dark Lord disengaged and stepped back, he did not expect such a blow.
The boy is strong,
Luke pushed forward, his sword held, his legs held, his arms held, his soul held.
Vader retreated under the onslaught. Both sabers slicing through errand tables, shelves, and equipment. Swatting left, then right, both high and low, Luke pushed, stabbing and parrying, spinning, and twirling, and as he did, he rose in spirit. Sweat pooled in his hair as his body expended vast amounts of energy. But somewhere deep down, in the recesses of his psyche, lay untold ethers of power.
More potent than Vader anticipated, new tactics came to bear,
There is much to learn young one.
A metal shelving unit disconnected from the wall and rushed towards Luke's head; the rebel ducking and rolling just in time to avoid decapitation. Vader lunged forward in a vain hope of gaining an advantage, but there existed none to be won. Luke leaped back onto his feet, snapping on his lightsaber and catching Vader's stroke in mid-swing.
Again they locked eyes,
"I have been expecting you, young Skywalker," rumbled Vader.
Brittle displays smashed to the ground, and fire leaped from one shelf to another as both lightsabers slashed and parried. Making their way out onto the street, Luke continued to land sledgehammer blows. Thirty feet away Han and Chewie untangled themselves from a garbage pile but were quickly knocked to the ground by a pair of waiting gun-drawn stormtroopers.
"Luke, I have foreseen this." Lightsabers crisscrossed again and again. Vader fully adjusted to Luke's power; their duel balanced in every such way, one unable to best the other. "I sense," struggled Vader under the stress of the fight, "that you have too." Luke continued to ignore him, instead he desperately sought an advantage, up-down-left-right-sideways, all attacks parried or avoided.
By now hundreds of merchants rushed for safer areas or took up spectator positions on the handrails above. No one had seen a Jedi in twenty years.
No one had believed there were any left.
"Luke," Vader grumbled, "We fought in a cloud city," Luke disconnected his lightsaber and stood back.
"Why should I listen to you?" he managed to say, his chest heaving, his hair a mess.
Then, Luke heard Vader's voice in his head, It was another life, another existence. He attacked the Dark Lord again with new vigor. He did not understand why this murderer conversed with him, the man who killed his Aunt and Uncle, the man who almost killed Leia.
He is going to pay!
Each consecutive blow came stronger than the previous, Luke's anger swelling with every memory. But his attacks met equal violence. Vader employed all the tricks in his arsenal. Bodies, chairs, walls, shelves, garbage, and more, flew through the air to try and distract Luke from his concentration.
To the untuned observer, it would appear Luke's two companions watched helplessly, but that is far from the truth. Each stormtrooper watched their Master battle in the center of the large court, paying little attention to either prisoner laying in front of them. As the eyes of the troopers followed Vader and Luke, Han's hand cautiously slipped into his satchel, rummaging slowly for a thermal detonator, careful not to attract attention.
There it is… Taking a deep breath, Han suddenly blurted out,
"Watch out kid!"
Immediately, Chewie swiped both stormtrooper's legs, causing them to fall on their backs. Han tossed the thermal detonator like a grenade while simultaneously drawing his blaster and cracking off a shot.
Vader sensed the danger and spun wildly, barely able to catch the bolt before it struck. Luke dove backward into a pile of trash just as the thermal detonator exploded.
BOOM!
For the next several seconds complete and utter chaos erupted on the merchant level. Smoke and debris filled the air, and the deafening sound of the explosion burst eardrums and caused concussions all around. Chewie snapped the necks of both stormtroopers while Han coughed and staggered to find his friend.
"Luke!? Luke?!"
Through the smoke and commotion of panicking bodies, Luke appeared, soot and dirt covering his once clean clothing.
"Let's get outta here!" Screamed the smuggler, grabbing his arm and yanking him closer.
The trio set off towards a staircase and away from the lower merchant level. Han and Chewie taking the lead, bowling over any hapless trader or merchant unfortunate enough to step into their path. Luke backpedaled the entire way, deflecting blaster bolts and slashing and cutting when needed.
Troopers and officers called out in all directions to try and get a fix on the marauding rebels, but it did not take long to find them.
Han kept his head down, plowing forward like a wild man, his frenzied and quick hip-shots having all the ingredients of a man unhinged.
"Faster kid! Faster!"
Tables, chairs, and knickknacks were being smashed or tossed aside, with blaster fire ringing out in all directions. Han cracked shots left and right, up and down, often yelling in surprise as a trooper came around the corner unexpectedly. Imperial unit cohesion fell apart before the first round was fired, the chaotic mess of people, debris, fires, and smoke set a nightmare scenario. Many troopers dying without even having raised their weapon, caught off guard on a blind corner or alleyway.
Minutes later, the trio raced up the stairs and past the security checkpoint; the Falcon now in sight.
"Get up there and get her started, we'll hold them off!" Shouted Han to his Wookie friend. The ramp of the Falcon lowered, and Chewie wasted no time running up like an out of control freight train.
Han turned back and took a knee behind the landing gear, with Luke deciding to stay in the open preparing to deflect blaster bolts. They came. The hull of the Falcon sparked and hissed from dozens of impacts. More than ten stormtroopers prepared to break out into the open, they knew that the rebels were about to escape, and in their earpieces officers screamed at them to advance.
"Han, we need to leave, now. Go." A few deflected bolts were sent back towards the grouped troopers before both Han and Luke safely boarded their ship.
"This is gonna be close." Outside Han could see an anti-ship tripod being secured to the floor. Systems hummed and servos whined under an accelerated startup sequence, seconds slowed under the stress. Finally, the Falcon lifted off and blasted out of the hanger.
"We made it," said the exhausted Solo. "Vader? How did he know we were there? He was waiting for us."
"I don't know, but he's alive, I can sense it, the detonator didn't get him," replied Luke. He felt the Force 'wall' Vader had raised to protect himself from the blast. The energy had sent him across the room, but he was unharmed.
"You sure? That was point blank."
Luke did not reply; instead, he looked out into the whirling vortex of hyperspace. He heard Vader in his mind,
We were there Luke, in the clouds, on the walkway, it was you and I, father and son.
Luke's legs buckled, causing him to reach for the passenger seat to steady himself; he experienced the same vision, but thought it a dream. Retreating back into the Falcon, he sat alone and meditated. For a long time he stayed silent, searching the absolute fringes of the Force.
He knew the truth, somehow, something had changed; but the truth remained.
"Father,"
Son…
"I know what you want to do, I can sense it," whispered Luke,
Join me, it is the only way
Milky Way - Alpha Quadrant - Earth
Cienna's eyes watered in frustration, her lost memories still hidden beyond her reach. She so desperately wanted to explain to Kirk her origins, and how she and 'John' seemed tied together. More than an hour passed since the three sat down at Pastry Farm just outside Starfleet Command, but the conversation had hit a wall. When Cienna looked at 'John,' spoke to him, stood near him, a resounding sense of familiarity enveloped her. Why do I feel so connected to him? He is savage by nature, brutal, yet I can't stop being near him.
As Cienna dried her eyes, Kirk continued studying both of them, as they equally studied him; evaluating his intentions and demeanor.
"You know, I have a friend, someone who could help you. Someone who could help you unlock what is in there," he said with a smile while pointing towards her forehead. "He's a Vulcan." The captain's boyish smile radiated out and Cienna felt the warmth and genuine care that created it.
Glistening like soft pearls, the mysterious woman's eyes lightened at the thought,
"I would like that very much," she said with a brilliant smile.
Kirk returned a half smile, but found himself more interested in what lay behind the gorgeous eyes and smile. Who is this woman, what does she want? What does she know? Maybe 'John' can shed some light?
"And you... soldier. I do not believe your memories are blocked, I just think no one understands you."
'John' had been watching their interaction intently, hiding his true emotions behind a sheet of steel. He feared no man, no action. But Cienna… Cienna, you are something special. Dull and lifeless eyes studied Kirk intently, a will as equal, but tattered and hidden from view.
"What do you want to know,"
"Who were you fighting, why were you fighting them?"
"Demons, monsters, whatever you want to call them. I fought them, all of them, not just some. I died…" 'John's' voice trailed off, seemingly reliving the events in his head, somewhere else, somewhere in his past. "I died a thousand times, but kept coming back, fighting. I crawled through hoards, skin removed from my knuckles and fingers. I was brought back again and again to fight those things,"
"What things? Demons aren't enough 'John,' what were they?" Kirk leaned in, pressing the issue.
"The portal, there was a portal that the scientists opened, some sort of portal, they said they got it out of a book, maybe the same one I saw, but I don't know. The things that came out-"
They were not us, only the features we have begotten on mankind 'John' winced in pain at the stabbing voice in his head. One all too familiar, a terrifying point of contact between him and THEM. On 'John's' temples, each neural-regressor wildly beeped in alarm.
"Stick with it 'John,' tell me" demanded Kirk, slamming his fist down on the table.
"They were just their images, images that could be seen and understood, but they are beyond the images, beyond those things. They speak to me, even now, I can hear them muttering,"
Deeper than thought we tread, deeper than your subconscious, in your soul and heart we exist,
"Oh god!"
Kirk looked over at the guards, but to his surprise, they did not move, they stood watching, emotionless. He then noted a few customers in the restaurant, equally still and emotionless. But he did not have time to delve into this occurrence, the soldier screamed in pain before him.
"What do they want 'John'? What are they telling you?!" Kirk shouted the question, he did not have time to play around.
"They want me to open a doorway, they-"
Yog-Sothoth knows it, Yog-Sothoth is it, when the words are truly spoken and rights howled through in their seasons.
Both Cienna and the captain could see the mental anguish on the face of the Marine.
This cannot continue, there must be a way...why are the neural-regressors not working? There must be a way to get more information without torturing him, without this level of pain.
As if fate were answering his request, Spock, now finished at Starfleet Intelligence stepped onto the patio. 'John's' eyes were closed, his breathing deep and steady, trying to relax the best he could.
"Spock, I am hoping that you could mind meld with each, to help unlock memories and relieve this man of his pain."
"Certainly," Spock pulled up a chair and sat down beside Cienna, "I cannot proceed without your expressed consent, nor can I guarantee success."
"I will do anything to remember, please help me."
"Close your eyes…" Spock gently placed his fingers along her cheek and forehead, he sought entry into the mysterious memories, a pathway to bring them to the surface. To his surprise, no matter how deep he delved, the emptiness remained, totally devoid of anything meaningful. After a minute, he removed his hands from her cheek and sat back,
"I'm sorry, I cannot read your-"
Cienna shot out of her chair, standing straight up, frozen,
"I can remember, I... I can remember everything,"
Still gentle, still beautiful, but her soul appeared to have aged a thousand years. She looked down at each of the men before stopping at 'John,' profound sadness washing over her otherwise perfect face.
"I was to entrap you, to do the bidding of my masters. To have you open the gate. You are right, the creatures you fought are not the true things… what you fought were just slaves, beasts that cherished those which torture you. The gate brings things from another place, there is no language to describe them, no picture to show them... We found them, in a book called the Necronomicon, and you have been healed and healed again, died and died again, a fragment of them, the smallest of parts is now part of you. It is all an elaborate plan. We are…" she stopped for a moment as she took it all in, the emotions, the lost memories now made available. "My master's have an alliance with them, to bring them through."
As Cienna rehashed her history, 'John' placed his hands to his temples, these sudden revelations causing waves of impulses to race through his mind.
Only you can save her! When the time is right, as it will be again.
"But why?" Asked Kirk, trying not to distract himself with the convulsing facial pain covering 'John's' face.
"To win the war."
"Which war?"
"All wars, in all times, in all realities,"
Kirk stared at her in disbelief, not because he did not believe her, but from the ramifications of such a suggestion.
"Fascinating, I did not think I had touched your mind. Evidently, I did," said Spock, thoroughly perplexed. Kirk's communicator beeped, interrupting his train of thought.
"Kirk here,"
"Captain Kirk, Lt. Commander Gulliver," Kirk looked down at his communicator, recognizing the name. Gulliver whom the captain ran into in the elevator no more than an hour ago, had ascended in rank.
"Promoted so soon Gulliver?"
"Yes Sir, sorry to disturb you, but your older device isn't set to receive broadcast messages. Admiral Ross has issued a priority 1 message, you are ordered by Starfleet Command to briefing room A13."
"Acknowledged, Kirk out," just as his communicator snapped closed, an ominous siren swept across the bay. Everyone on the patio bolted,
"Let's go!" Kirk hurried to his feet, but not before grabbing Cienna gently by the wrist, "but you're coming with me, I need your help," he said looking deep into her eyes. What she knows could mean life or death to the galaxy. "You too soldier."
Briefing Room A13
Packed full of directors, captains, and branch leaders, all anxiously awaiting the presentation to begin.
Finally, after a few minutes, Admiral Ross made his way to the podium,
"Attention. Attention. As of right now, Earth and all member worlds are on Priority 1 lockdown. Cardassian Prime has been attacked; we are getting reports our diplomat was killed along with the entire Cardassian Detapa Council." The room erupted with questions, but Ross waved his hand to silence it,
"Cardassia is holding us personally responsible for the death of their Council members. They sent us their security footage; Director Sloan believes it to be authentic." Ross let out a regretful sigh before continuing, "It shows our diplomatic security team planting a bomb under the chamber an hour before the blast. They believe we tried to frame the colonists." Crosstalk and arguing rose again before being silenced. "Attention! There is more. As of eight minutes ago, a fleet of Dominion ships has set up a blockade on the Alpha Quadrant side of the wormhole. DS9 has reported there are twenty-six medical ships on their way to Cardassian space. All merchant traffic is being boarded and inspected. Bajor is trying to talk to the Dominion about this. As everyone knows, the wormhole is not in Federation space and we have no jurisdiction over it. For now, Bajor is negotiating." Ross moved to the side to allow the Federation top diplomat to take center stage.
"The Vorta have contacted us, they lost seventy people in the building, as Admiral Ross pointed out, the Dominion are sending medical ships and supplies to Cardassia. Weyuon, for anybody who doesn't know by now, is the top Vorta representative, says the blockade is for the safety of their ships. They do not want any Federation or Klingon ships going through the wormhole until a full investigation is completed. So far, they blame us,"
Captain Kirk stood up to ask a question,
"Have we verified the identity of the security team who planted the bomb?"
"Yes, of course, Captain Kirk," said Sloan from across the room. "Their identities are confirmed."
Discussion continued but proved futile. For each idea, theory, or suggested course of action, came more questions. Instead of the puzzle pieces coming together, they pushed apart, with more dumping onto the board.
But more than Federation officers listened in on the meeting. Down the hall, another formulated his own plans, ideas and actions. Through the minds of the assembled officers, Kinnison listened, watched, and felt. Living among the people of Earth, he amassed more information than any individual, able to connect dots few knew existed. Pastry Farm's sale to Quark Ltd provided the perfect springboard to start a new identity on Earth.
He came to understand the Federation to be hopelessly behind the information curve. There is so much they don't even realize, I will need to help them while I am still here. How there are humans in this universe, I do not yet know...
Unlocking Cienna's memory and disguising it under Spock's mind meld suited Starfleet's needs. Kinnison had also frozen the security officers reactions as well as patrons while 'John' fought with his inner demons. His mind...something is very wrong with that mind… it's hard to tell if he's insane or not… but there are more immediate concerns. Starfleet needs to quickly expand the scope of its thinking, to look beyond the four walls of the Alpha Quadrant. They are in grave danger...but I cannot reveal myself. If they know of me, everyone will know of me. But… just because I cannot be revealed does not mean others cannot. Here. We. Go.
In the murmuring and debating crowd of Starfleet officers, a lowly Division Manager suddenly stood from his seat. A Betazoid whom everyone knew well.
"I sense something…" He did not. His mind no longer his, a slave to the infiltrator.
"OH MY GOD!" Shouted the Division Manager from the back of the room. Everyone jumped and turned around to see what prompted the shouting. Senior Commander O'Donnell, Betazoid Division Manager began twisting into a new shape. His clothes and skin dissolving into a yellow fluid, his speech a gurgle as his vocal cords turned to slime.
"Security!" shouted Admiral Ross.
Slurping and slopping in his chair, the former Betazed officer converted into the liquid form of a Changeling. It did not want to, but could do nothing to stop its own transformation, a slave to another, it's mind compromised.
Not too far off, Kinnison stood ready, Go! Go! He commanded.
Ensign Veeno, the security guard outside the briefing room door charged inward, phaser drawn. Captain's, and Admirals parted like water while Venno fired center mass, striking the Changeling at maximum power. A loud shriek and the stench of burned flesh filled the room. It slumped in its chair, its liquid body solidifying into dark muck. A hundred meters away, Kinnison already started his dash towards the briefing room, running headlong towards the door; arms pumping, chest heaving.
Need to make this look just right.
With a mental nudge, a group of senior officers huddling in the corner moved a few steps towards the door, just as Lieutenant Commander Gulliver came bursting in.
"Did someone call for secu-" The 'surprised' Gulliver smacked into the tightly packed group of officers like a bowling ball into pins. Datapads, communicators, phasers, tricorders and other items went flying in all directions. Curse words that cannot be printed were being tossed about as the pile of bodies tried to sort itself out.
"Gulliver! You damn fool! Be careful!" Shouted an angry commander while pulling himself off the floor.
'Bumbling' Gulliver appeared to be trying to help. But unbeknownst to anyone, he did not exist. Not in the sense of a true past or record, only in the physical, caught on camera and with hundreds of witnesses. Able to complete many tasks at once, Kinnison felt for the Changeling's mind. Severely wounded but alive, tough bugger...
Trying to regenerate its damaged cells, the Changeling remained motionless, hoping to fool the crowd, but it could not fool everyone. Kinnison reached out telepathically and killed it then and there, it's mind blasted. To those monitoring security footage, it would have seemed like it died from phaser fire, same with the autopsy. More security officers came rushing in and surrounded the smoldering, black muck.
"Thanks for stopping in," said Kirk as he extended his hand towards 'Gulliver' to help the man off the floor. Kinnison stood up and shook his head to feign confusion,
"Not sure what happened, heard a security call, was about twenty feet behind Veeno," he said, seemingly disoriented. All around, Starfleet personnel rushed in and out, some to their offices, others to brief their direct reports. 'Gulliver' bent over and put his hands on his knees, "I feel so stupid, I can't believe I ran into those people, I just tried to do my job…"
"It's okay Commander, you tried to get here, you had no idea they were standing there, good effort."
Kirk patted the man on the shoulder, 'Gulliver' sighed and straightened his uniform before joining the other security officers. To a Second Stage Lensman, it was easy to appear to be doing one thing, but in fact be in several places at once. He stood in the conference room, but his mind spread. 'operating' as two security guards in F building two kilometers away. Kinnison ensured their schedules parked them precisely where they needed to be for a series of events to 'randomly' occur.
As of now, the pair came around a corner when they saw an engineer hurrying towards them. Out of place due to the alert protocols enacted, the security officers exchanged concerned glances before confronting him.
"Stop!" shouted one of the officers. The engineer kept coming, they pulled their phasers and gave another warning. Against his will, the engineer continued to rush forward, every ounce of his thought trying to control his body, but to no avail. One last warning was issued before the security pair opened fire. Upon being hit the engineer mutated and shifted into a globulous liquid, it sprang forward in an attempt to escape. Six security cameras recorded the encounter, a perfect setup. Kinnison knew that all security footage would be replayed and analyzed, even someone as smart as the Android Data could not be allowed to piece it all together. In the corridor under normal circumstances, both officers would have been killed, their stun settings having little effect. Unfortunately for the Changeling, a slight delay in its reflexes is all the time required to allow the guards to switch their phasers settings to kill. It died in the next volley. A black sludge stained the carpet, both officers were released from control, each believing they had completed the task on their own. Careful to leave no trace of his telepathic presence, Kinnison disconnected himself, not even a Vulcan mind meld at a later date will uncover this manipulation.
For weeks the Lensman observed the Changelings on Earth, dissected their minds a thousand times without their knowledge. He knew of more, plenty more, all over the Federation. But I can't feel them at interstellar distances. Their plans devious and bold. Kinnison's hope for the Federation lay in his desire of their greater vision, they need to expand their imaginations...they are too soft, idealistic...sheltered. They will never be the Galactic Patrol, but something is better than nothing.
I can of course tell them, but it would then reveal my existence. I could plant the information in their minds, but that could lead to questions by others who may be looking…
The Lensman still felt unsure if he came alone. Is there something I cannot detect? Watching, waiting for a slip-up?
The best he could figure, back in his own universe, his ship had been pulled into the hyperspace maelstrom set by the Ploorians. He remembered only being in the hyperspace tube for a moment before he felt a tremendous jolt and then the tree line on Betazed appeared.
Did something follow me? It is impossible to know. Ploor had been destroyed, the pirate organization Boskone is history. This new universe he found himself in seemed so unique, so different from the one he knew. The Q are undoubtedly the top dogs, the biggest operators, but seem mostly passive according to Federation records. The real struggle he figured is between near equal races, for now… those master's of Cienna do not sound like lovely cohorts to me… but they are not here… thank god.
Back in the conference room, deliberation and analysis already began on the new discovery,
"Spock, hypothesis?" Asked Kirk,
"It seems strange that a Federation security detail on Cardassia would purposely start a war."
"Agreed...and these shape-shifting creatures, they could be anywhere."
"Affirmative,"
"We need to look at this on a big scale, we need to brainstorm," Kirk motioned for Picard to join them,
"Captain Kirk, I do not believe we have had a formal introduction," said Picard with a warm smile and firm handshake.
"Nice to meet you... now Captain...the fleet is going to be deployed shortly, we both know that,"
"I would certainly agree,"
"Can you and your Android meet Spock and I in Astrolab 3 in ten minutes?"
Starfleet Intelligence
Sloan remained at his desk, not moving in several minutes. The shape-shifting infiltrators had been killed, thank God, they could be anywhere, anyone. War is coming with the Dominion, do those bastards think they can block a wormhole?! And what the hell are these things?
Sloan fell into a daze while looking at his office wall, trying to decide, they must be Dominion agents, what else could they be? Dominion agents make sense… probably came with the probes…
He jammed his finger into his communications button,
"Sloan to Bakerfield come in,"
"Dewal here,"
"The scraps that the U.S.S Douglas located in the Elop system, are they of any use to us? Any indication of Dominion intentions?"
"We were just about to call you, this is unreal. We found something alive. It's some sort of, brain, we think. I don't know. Are you able to come?"
"What? What are you talking about?"
"At first we thought it was...well maybe part of the Dominion, and we were asking it about probes and what not. But it's not part of the Dominion, at least we do not think. This thing says it can help us detect the probes, it's pretty smart…we can patch you through… says we need to help it survive, some sort of exoskeleton, some sort of shell. We need to help it build it so it doesn't die."
"What?! Go ahead, put me through, keep it on encryption AA-16. Why didn't you tell me sooner?!" What the hell did they find? And...if it can help us scan for probes, maybe even more…
"Just following your orders, you said only communicate at 08:30 on channel 22.32"
A moment later, the Director addressed the newly found 'thing' his Section 31 operative described as a brain. "This is Sloan, I am coming to meet you. If we let you rebuild your exterior shell, will you be able to boost our sensor ranges to detect the probes and maybe-"
"A-F-F-I-R-M-A-T-I-V-E!"