RAGNAROK 2
Author: Rocky
Act I
Tuvok stood in front of the main display screen in Astrometrics, preparatory to briefing Voyager's command crew and chief conn officer on the disposition of forces for the upcoming battle. The importance of this briefing was underscored by General Korok's presence; the Klingon leader had just returned to the sector within the past hour.
At Tuvok's nod, Lieutenant Megan Delaney, head of the department now that Seven was gone, keyed in a sequence of commands. A tactical map appeared. Small red icons representing Korok's forces were located in the lower right hand corner, moving slowly and seemingly at random. At a distance from the others, a group of motionless green blips-a fitting color choice to represent the Borg, Janeway thought-formed a cluster shaped vaguely like an arrowhead.
"This display encompasses the entire Vigrid sector," Tuvok said. "General Korok has provided us with the warp signatures of his fleet so we can track the positions of the different ships."
"So we can identify hostile vessels during the actual battle," Chakotay said, and gave a wry smile. "Before they announce their intentions by shooting at us, that is."
"The positions of your allies are also important," Korok interjected, "knowing who is watching your back."
"But we can already detect which vessels are still connected to the Collective," said Paris, studying the display carefully. As he watched, the green cluster moved closer.
"Yes, Tom," answered the captain, "but what about unconnected cubes? Can we automatically assume they're on our side?"
"Of cour-" began Paris, then stopped. "You mean some of the freed drones would actually fight for the Queen?"
"As illogical as that would seem, Lieutenant," said Tuvok, "that is a possibility we must consider."
"The 'pirates' and other renegades will doubtless fight for whichever side they think will net them the most advantages. In other words, pick the winning side," Chakotay said flatly. He didn't voice the obvious conclusion of who the victors were expected to be.
"But their own self-interest is at stake!" Paris protested. Off to one side, ignored for the moment, Delaney gave a quick nod of agreement.
Korok smiled, but it was not a pleasant expression. "In the long term, perhaps, but many of these *petaQ* are interested only in the short term benefits." A grudging respect entered his voice. "But at least they are willing to fight for what they want. By their presence, they announce that they are not cowards who shy away from battle."
He brought his fist down with sudden force on the console in front of him. Janeway almost expected to literally see sparks fly. She quickly sought to defuse the situation; Korok had already held forth at great length about the cowardly behavior-as he saw it-of Axum, who several months ago had turned down Korok's request to join his venture. Fortunately, Korok did not seem inclined to harp on Janeway's own earlier refusal, apparently 'forgiving' her in light of Voyager's current involvement. "Back to our discussion of tactics and vessel deployment, General," she reminded him.
The Klingon warrior took the hint. He knew as well as she did that time was a precious commodity, and one they did not have in abundance. Four hours had elapsed since Voyager had first received Korok's message about the approach of Collective's fleet, leaving them with at most another 12 until the final battle would begin.
With Delaney's assistance, Korok rapidly indicated and named each of the small red icons that represented the ships of his alliance. "My own ship, the Taj, will be in the vanguard here, flanked by the Ymir and Verandi, there." All of those were Borg cubes. Next were three tactical spheres. "Tyr, Surt and Fenris will make up the inner line of defense. Voyager will be positioned here as well." He then identified a series of alien vessels, from worlds Janeway did not recognize but knew to be natives of the Vigrid sector.
Korok had done a tremendous amount of work toward building a coalition, she realized. It was no accident that he had planned to make his last stand here. Another set of ships were indicated as being held in reserve, with still others taking up positions on the perimeter. Janeway was not paying close attention to the particular names, being more concerned with the overall placements and strategies, but the final name Korok uttered caught her attention.
"Did you say the Trefla?" she asked.
"Yes," said Korok. "A cube of freed drones. Their leader, a Vulcan called Sakat, contacted me a few days ago and asked to be part of our effort."
Janeway's eyes met Chakotay's. She knew exactly what he was thinking-about whether or not to tell Korok of Voyager's earlier encounter with the Trefla. Chakotay lifted his brows questioningly. Janeway hesitated a long moment, then shook her head, the movement so slight as to go unnoticed by anyone other than her first officer. He could not fail to understand her meaning.
Yes, the drones on board the Trefla had attempted to take over Voyager and had attacked a number of her officers. But that had been at the instigation of individuals like Cretia Finney, who were now dead. The forces of reason had prevailed, and it was unfair to continue harboring any bad feelings toward the survivors. Besides, with their clearly demonstrated hatred for the Collective, the Trefla drones were bound to be a valuable addition to the coalition. If things went according to Korok's overall plan, it was highly unlikely Voyager would have any contact with them during the battle itself. Chakotay sighed softly, but did not say anything.
"So there you have it," Korok finished. "Forty two vessels of the Collective, versus 18 of ours. Fine odds, wouldn't you say?"
"No, I would not," Tuvok answered, taking the Klingon bluster at face value. "In terms of sheer numbers of ships, we are outnumbered by 2.3 to 1. In terms of manpower, the odds are even higher-"
Korok waved his hand dismissively. "Numbers are not important. What *is* important is the size of the heart in each fighter, his willingness to give his all, his very life if need be, to the cause."
"And if we fail?" Delaney said suddenly, speaking for the first time. Janeway shot a warning glance at her, but Korok smiled.
"Then it will be glorious to die in battle," the Klingon general said.
"Thank you, but I plan on living," Janeway said. She turned to her officers. "No, the situation doesn't look good. Aside from the issue of our own survival, and that of the billions who inhabit this sector of space, this battle is going to determine the fate of the Borg once and for all. The Queen has obviously put all her forces in play. We cannot expect to do any less." She looked meaningfully at each of the people in front of her. "And I refuse to accept the notion of 'licked before we even begin.'"
No one, not even Paris, had anything further to say. The meeting was over.
Before accompanying Tuvok and Korok to the transporter room, Janeway spoke in a low voice to Chakotay. "I want all personnel of the alpha and beta shifts to get some rest in the hours we have before that fleet is expected to get here. Go to split shifts. Everyone is to have a minimum of four hours off, no exceptions."
"Understood, Captain." He paused for a moment. "That speech of yours-"
"Yes?"
"I hope you plan on repeating it on shipwide speakers before we engage the enemy."
"You honestly think the crew doesn't know what's at stake here?" she asked incredulously.
"No, they know perfectly well what's at stake. Almost as well as they know that their captain isn't willing to concede defeat." He left without waiting for her to respond.
"No, I'm not defeated," she said quietly to herself. "Not yet, anyway."
Janeway was largely silent during the walk through the corridors. At her side, Tuvok and the Klingon general continued to discuss tactics for the upcoming battle. She listened with half an ear, but uppermost in her mind was a feeling of trepidation. She shivered. She didn't believe in premonitions, but the words of the ancient Terran writer, whose name was lost in the mists of antiquity, echoed with sudden urgency through her mind.
/And on that day of Ragnarok, the day of the last battle, the forces of evil shall declare war upon the gods, the forces of righteousness, and fight with them to mutual extinction. In this twilight of the gods, all the universe itself will fall to ruin, not merely the sun and planets and stars, but at the last, Valhalla itself, and all its warriors and deities. For no one can triumph against Fate-/
"'Fate often saves an undoomed man if his courage is good,'" Janeway murmured, scarcely aware she'd spoken aloud.
Korok broke off his conversation with Tuvok in mid-sentence. "Exactly so, Captain. I was not aware that Terran philosophy so closely echoed our own."
Janeway gave him a small smile. "That line was spoken by the old Norsemen, as they prepared to go into battle."
"Then they must have been related to the Klingons," Korok answered. He stepped on the transporter pad. "Remember, *bIlujlaHbe'chugh bIQaplaHbe'*-if you cannot fail, you cannot succeed." He raised his fist in salute. "Till we meet in battle, or in Sto-Vo-Kor beyond."
After he dematerialized, Janeway stared at the empty platform for a long moment. Tuvok raised a questioning brow, but said nothing.
"I need to go to Engineering," she said at last. "See if we can get the warp engines back online ahead of schedule. But before I do, there is something you and I need to discuss."
"Yes, Captain?"
"It's about the nanoprobes..."
