Master of the Ring

Chapter Eleven: They shall grow not old…

The sphere came barrelling in at full thrust. The Master of Death, directly in its' path, apparated clear. Picard felt the Enterprise judder as Worf executed an emergency turn and headed away at full impulse. His monitors showed him that Vingilot, Ironfoots' Axe and Fist of Kahless were moving to support, but the Fist was limping badly.

"Admiral Picard!" This was Master Elrond. "I am sorry, but we cannot maintain Lothlorien in normal space any longer. Craftworlds are built for the Webway, and we are in danger of collapse unless we return there at once. I am deploying a Web Gate and will send ships through as soon as possible."

"Understood." Picard said. "Get your people safe!

"Will, can we use transphasic torpedoes?"

"Negative, Jean-Luc." Riker replied. "The sphere's moving too fast. By the time we got our ships far enough away to be safe, it would be too close to the planet. Those torpedoes have a big blast radius!"

"Very well." Picard acknowledged. "All ships, surround the sphere! Keep moving and attack when you can. This is a holding action, we need to keep that sphere away from the planet!"

"Admiral!" Lore said. "Sensors indicate that the Sphere is carrying at least five CyberKing units. They're trying to get into a close enough orbit to deploy them. I'd say we've got maybe twenty minutes to stop them.

"I don't think we can do it, Jean-Luc!"

"Yes we can!" Admrial Koth declared. "The Fist can't take much more, I'm dropping my crew, can one of you get them?"

"We'll pick them up." Thorgrim replied. "But our rooms and corridors are all Dwarf-sized!"

"They'll just have to mind their heads!" Koth told him. "Pods away!"

"What are you planning, Admiral?" Picard asked.

"Never you mind!" Koth growled. "Just get out of my way!"

With that, the battered and burning hulk of the Fist of Kahless shot forward at full impulse, straight at the sphere.

"He can't be trying to ram!" Captain Addams remarked. "He won't get past…there! Their tractor beams have him, they're pulling him in. Why?"

"Because, in spite of everything, they're still Borg." Lore told her. "A Klingon battleship, even a damaged one, is worthy of assimilation, as is a commander of such courage.

"But I don't think he was trying to ram them."

A docking vent had opened in the hull of the sphere, and the battleship was being drawn in.

"All of you, get clear!" Koth bellowed. "Heghlu'meH QaQ jajvam!"

"All ships, evasive manoeuvres!" Picard barked, realising what was about to happen.

The Fist of Kahless suddenly shot forward again, adding its own thrust to the power of the tractor beams with enough effect to send the ship through the rear of the docking bay, crashing toward the core of the sphere. Then before the tractors could reverse, Koth pulled his master stroke, detonating his ships' warp core in a massive matter-antimatter explosion that ripped the sphere apart.

For a moment, the feed from Ironfoots' Axe relayed nothing but the triumphant howling of Klingons.

"A good day to die, indeed." Picard mused, then. "All ships, back to the planet! Let's go and see what sort of trouble Harry's in!"

XXXXX

Harry and Rose fought back-to-back. Under cover of the assault on the walls, a party of drones had managed to slip into one of the minor breaches, and they'd led a team of their own to deal with it. It was close quarters work and Harry was using Anduril again. The ancient blade sliced through cyber-alloy every bit as efficiently as Roses' adamantium claws and Harry was doing a lot of damage!

"I thought this thing was supposed to be purely symbolic!" He remarked.

"Me too." Rose allowed. "Who'd've thought?"

A Dwarf sergeant who'd accompanied them peered at the blade. "That's Narsil, isn't it? The Sword of Elendil that King Elessar renamed Anduril?"

"It is, as far as we know." Harry told him.

"That explains it." The Dwarf replied. "That sword was forged by Telchar of Nogrod. He forged a dagger to go with it, Angrist it was called, but they got separated long ago. Both of them were said to be able to cleave iron.

"Telchar was related to my family, and they say he had secrets that no Dwarf before or since could fathom. That metal may look like steel, but no one can be sure exactly what it is!"

"Hmm." Harry mused. "Might be something to look into, later." He moved to the breach and looked out. The drones had pulled back, beyond range of most of the weapons on the walls. The area had no cover by design, so Harrys' ranged troops had wrought havoc. Even now, the best of the Dark Reapers could still find a mark from time to time. But further off, another force was approaching. More Black Cybermen, escorting vehicles.

"They're bringing up heavy guns." Harry retorted.

"Shit!" Rose commented. "That's bad!"

"For them, not us." Harry told her. "Deadpool and his gang are still out there, and….There we go!"

Four of the six guns exploded into flames. Harry scanned around and saw the towering figure of Havoth the Battle-Mage. As he watched, Havoth gestured and the fifth gun rocketed into the air, before smashing down among the ranks of drones. The sixth simply blew apart. Harry had never seen a Klingon Battle-Mage in action before – it was a salutary experience!

For a few minutes, nothing happened. Then everything changed. Most of the drones simply collapsed where they stood. Others began screaming – horrible electronic screeches -before turning their weapons on each other or themselves. Still others – a very few – looked around and, finding others like themselves, gathered into small groups and began an orderly retreat.

Harry and Rose went back into the main section at a run. "Logan!" Harry called. "Get your people out there and join up with Wade! Don't bother chasing the ones retreating, but mop up the ones who've gone mad and make sure the others don't get up again.

"Exarch Mablung, take your people toward the main base. Colonel Shepard and his team might still be alive. Find their transponder signals and help if you can. If you get them out, bring them to me here.

"Greyhound One to Trap One, are you still out there, Admiral Picard?"

"We are here, Your Majesty." Picard answered. "Unfortunately, Trap Three has been destroyed and Stadium has had to return to the Webway. However, Stadium is sending support as we speak."

"Damn!" Harry said. "Well, we knew there'd be losses. I need all the intel you can give me on the main structure. I'm pulling all my forces together and heading for that big main door!"

"Acknowledged. Trap One out."

"I've been meaning to ask." Rose said. "What's with all the greyhound and trap one stuff?"

"That?" Harry replied. "I was a Colonel in the old Unified Intervention Taskforce for a good few years. UNIT used those call-signs all the time. Just old habits dying hard, I suppose."

XXXXX

The mop-up didn't take very long. Deadpools' people had already started by the time Logans' force arrived. Wolverine found his old ally looking down at the corpse of a wiry StarFleet Marine, surrounded by several dismembered drones.

"Jonesy, Jonesy!" Deadpool shook his head. "A bit too fond of close combat, weren't you, pal?"

"Nori, too." Logan said. "It's a bitch losing people. That's why I prefer to work alone."

"Me too." Deadpool agreed. "But I always thought with you it was your sparkling personality!"

"No kidding!" Logan countered. "And here I thought that with you it was your personal hygiene!"

Deadpool chuckled. "Burned again! I should remember how much more experienced you are!"

"Don't get subtle, bub!" Logan told him. "Ain't your style. Looks like we're done here, Harry wants us to meet him at the main door of the base."

XXXXX

Harry was listening to Shepard.

"The CyberQueen still has some control." The Colonel was saying. "Seems she's kind of a Core all by herself, but her range is limited. So there are gonna be some drones in there ready and able to fight."

"Damn!" Harry said. "Still, it seems everything outside her range is grinding to a halt. Our observers in other systems are reporting in and the CyBorg are breaking down everywhere.

"Nice job, Colonel!"

"Lieutenant-Colonel." Shepard corrected.

"Not anymore." Harry told him. "Admiral Picard just confirmed the promotion. Anything I can do for you?"

"I'd like to keep Aurelius." Shepard said. "Handy having a wizard on the team!"

Harry shrugged. "Aurelius is a freelance, a private contractor. You'd have to talk to him. But if StarFleet quibbles at paying for him, I'll cover it!"

Logan and Deadpool came up then. Shepard made to leave but Harry motioned him to stay.

"We've got problems." Harry told everyone. "Not only do we have a TARDIS- type forcefield around this place, but the Colonel here tells me that the CyberQueen still has active drones in there.

"The drones we can deal with, but the forcefield is going to be a pig!"

"Trap One to Greyhound One, the forcefield has just shut down." Picard said in Harry's ear.

"Right on time!" Harry crowed. "Get your people ready, once that door is open, we go in fast and head straight for the main Control Room. Place is too big to spread and search until we have that room, so watch your flanks and rear!"

"Good to see you did listen to Ron sometimes." Logan commented. "But that's a Hell of a big, thick, door!"

"I know." Harry told him. "Alohomora!"

The door sank slowly down and a ramp extended.

"No magical defences." Harry noted. "Move out!"

They were perhaps half-way into the cube when they encountered a group, standing openly in full view, under a flag of truce. Mostly Black Cybermen, but at the front was another group. A tall, thin man with a harsh face, in elaborate black robes, stepped forward.

"King Godric. I am the Valeyard. It was I who lowered the forcefield. I am here to surrender my Ring in exchange for safe passage to my TARDIS."

He slipped the ring off his finger and handed it to Harry. "It seems The Master misjudged matters. These devices have only a very limited capacity to influence our people."

"Thank you." Harry said. "I'm surprised that you of all people turned on him!"

The Valeyard smiled grimly. "I am The Doctor without morals, ethics or mercy, but I'm still The Doctor! The Master is still my enemy, and evil as I may be, I do not share his ideology and ambitions! May I leave?"

"For now, yes." Harry told him. "But if we cross paths again, don't expect me to go easy!"

The next was an elegant-looking woman in a simple coverall. "They call me The Rani." She said. "I was doing genetic research to improve the organic component of the CyBorg. Here's my Ring, and a data crystal with all the research data on it. A certain Ultramarine told me you might have a use for it. I need safe passage, too, to my TARDIS."

"Off you go." Harry told her. "Same conditions as The Valeyard!"

Yerbo, the fat Ferengi, looked like a man who hadn't slept well for some days. Worry and fear hung around him like a cloud of cheap perfume. He handed over his Ring and muttered: "Have to get back to Ferenginar."

"Fuck off, then!" Harry told him.

Then next man to approach was of medium height, dressed in grey and of utterly ordinary appearance. "Hi, Harry!" He said. "You were right, I had to help The Valeyard get into The Master's TARDIS. Here, I kept hold of the key for you. I need to get home, don't want Angelina getting bored, anything could happen!"

"Thanks, Jim." Harry said. "Love to Ange and the boys!"

"Try not to steal the Enterprise on the way, DiGriz!" Logan called after the man.

Finally, one of the Black Cybermen approached Harry.

"I have been chosen Cyberleader for this squad." It said. "We are no longer responding to the orders of the Abomination. We see no strategic advantage in continuing this fight. We ask permission to retreat and safe conduct offworld. We have a shuttle prepared."

"Granted." Harry said. "Logan, give them an escort."

"OK." Logan said. He turned to a nearby Lieutenant of the Guard and gave the orders. Only Rose noticed the other order he gave with the flickering of his fingers: As soon as you get them far enough away, kill them.

The force pressed on until they came to a large open space, half-filled with Borg drones, who attacked at once.

"Those are old-style drones!" Deadpool said. "Looks like the newer drones broke away and the Queen's had to bring the cubes' original crew out of stasis!"

"Makes the job easier!" Harry pointed out.

Easier, is, of course, a relative term. Old-style Borg drones lacked the dedicated weaponry, heavy armour and tactical skills of the Black Cybermen. But they were fearless, immune to pain and kept on coming until rendered inoperative. The close quarters did not allow for much manoeuvring, and negated the use of ranged weaponry.

The invaders' front line, dominated by Harry, Rose, Logan, Deadpool, Captain Titus, Groot, the Hulk and the battle-mage Havoth, was virtually impenetrable. But the drones kept coming.

"The Queen's at the back!" Deadpool said, during a brief lull.

"I am Groot!"

"You are correct, my friend." Titus said. "She must be summoning more from stasis."

"Hulk will smash them all!"

"You probably could," Rose said, "but there are probably thousands of these things, and we're on the clock here. The gods know what devilry The Master might be cooking up in there!"

"We need to take the Queen out!" Logan said. "If I could get to her…"

"As you wish!" Havoth said, and raised his gauntlet. Logan was lifted into the air and sent streaking over the heads of the enemy, to land on his feet in front of the CyberQueen. At that moment, the drones pushed forward again and things got frantic, until suddenly it stopped. The drones simply collapsed.

Harry and his friends made their way to the back of the chamber, where they found the shredded remains of the CyberQueen and Logan sitting propped against the wall. It had been a serious fight; Wolverines' garments were tattered, and beneath them Harry could see wounds severe enough to put a normal human in the ground. Logan looked pale and ill, but the wounds were already healing.

"What kept you?" He asked. "Not that I'm complainin'. At least I finished puking up the nanoprobes she stuck into me! Got a bit of dignity left. But I'm gonna have to sleep this one off, Harry. Sorry!"

"Forget it." Harry said. "You've done your share and more, mate! I'll get the medics to take you back to the Vingilot while we finish up here."

"Don't forget to take her Ring!" Logan urged.

The next room was almost as large, but a ten-metre circle had been drawn on the floor. In the centre of the circle stood the Klingon, Korak, holding a long Klingon sword with a jagged blade.

"Where is the one who calls himself King of Men?" He bellowed.

"That would be me." Harry said, then more formally. "I am Godric, heir of Elessar, heir of Isildur, heir of Elendil, of the line of Elros Tar-Minyatur, King of Numenor. What do you desire of me?"

Korak spat on the floor in front of him and snarled: "Qab jIH nagil!"

"Challenge accepted!" Harry snapped. "A moment to prepare?"

"Granted." Havok replied. "Do not keep me waiting!"

Harry nodded, then began to doff his tactical armour.

"What are you doing, Boss?" Deadpool asked.

"He's not wearing armour." Harry pointed out. "And as much as I might like to, I can't do an Indiana Jones on him. Not with everybody watching!

"Do me a favour, Wade. Go and find the Orion, Velek and get his Ring. I don't care how."

Harry picked up Anduril and went to enter the circle, then became aware of something moving fast and quiet on his left. Korak yelled a warning, but before Harry could turn, Rose was there, intercepting the black clad figure. A thud, a grunt, then a full-throated scream and the assassins' body spun away to lie in a rapidly-spreading pool of blood. Rose retracted her claws and knelt to strip the Cardassians' Ring.

Korak spat again, this time in the direction of the corpse, before turning to Harry.

"Will you accept my word that I had no part in that?" He asked.

"Yes." Harry said. He stepped into the circle and saluted. "Let's do this!"

Korak nodded, then sprang to the attack with a roar.

Harry could smell the polished wood and sweat aroma of the dojo. He could hear the voice of his old friend, Neville Longbottom: The first teaching is "Ai Uchi", to cut the opponent just as he cuts you. It is lack of anger. It is to treat your enemy as an honoured guest. It is to abandon life or throw away fear.

Harry met the Klingons' charge serenely, he did not give an inch and his defence was awesome. Korak was as fierce by nature as any Klingon, and the Ring he wore accentuated it, driving him to wilder and wilder attacks. Then Harry saw the opening and countered with the Body Strike, slamming his left shoulder into Koraks' chest with all the power of his augmented body and concentrated will. The Klingon was thrown back several metres. Harry had felt his opponents' ribs crack, but knew that would barely slow a Klingon down. Indeed, Korak immediately made another wild attack. But now Harry moved, fast and fluid, making a single cut. Korak mustered another powerful strike at Harry's head. Harry smashed his own sword against his opponent's in the Fire and Stones Cut. Koraks' blade shattered, and he dropped to his knees, then fell forward and rolled over as Harrys one, lethal, cut took its' toll.

Harry knelt beside him, taking Koraks' face in his hands and holding his gaze until the last spark ebbed from his eyes. Then Harry flung his head back and howled, as did Havoth.

"I was told you were a man of honour." Havoth said. "I see it is true."

Harry took the Ring from Koraks' hand. "It was the one thing this could never take from him." He said. "His honour. It was a good death."

Deadpool reappeared, handing Harry a Ring. "Found Velek." He said. "Already dead, poison I think. There was a bottle in front of him anyway, along with a message from the Syndicate to tell him they have a new leader and he should resign 'in the usual way'."

"Saves on the golden handshake, I suppose." Harry allowed. "Right, just The Master left. Let's go!"

The Control Room was just down the corridor. Harry was about to open the door when Rose said. "Who does graffiti in a place like this?"

Harry looked where she was pointing, there were symbols etched into the metal wall beside the door.

"I mean I call it graffiti," Rose went on, "but it's more like a pattern than writing!"

"It's writing." Harry told her. "Gallifreyan writing."

"Ah!" She said. "Explains why I can't read it!"

"It says," Harry squinted and read. "Not regeneration. Borellus. It's signed The Doctor."

"Cryptic." Rose remarked. "More so than usual."

"It was risky coming here, with The Master and The Valeyard about." Harry replied. "Probably no time to explain more fully."

"But what does it mean?" Deadpool asked.

"Not sure." Harry admitted. "But Borellus rings a bell.

"Never mind, we'll either figure it out or we won't!"

The door was open, they went in to see The Master standing in front of what looked like a Borg Repair Pod in the middle of the room. He was holding a device in one hand and searching through his pockets with the other.

"Looking for this?" Harry asked, holding up a TARDIS key.

The Master stared, then gave a brittle laugh.

"Bravo!" He said. "But how? Wait! DiGriz? The Stainless Steel Rat? Only he could have picked a TimeLords' pocket and got away with it! I hope you've counted your teeth, My Lord Seeker! He's not an honest man!"

"No less honest than either of us, My Lord Master." Harry responded. "I don't go by Seeker any more, by the way. I'm King Godric now, for my sins."

"Going up in the Galaxy, then?" The Master smiled, rather too widely for comfort. "My heartiest felicitations, Your Majesty!"

"Thanks." Harry replied. "Now I suppose that doohickey you're holding is the trigger for the self-destruct on this complex. Your plan being to trigger it from inside your TARDIS and clear off while we all went boom, no doubt. But now you're kind of stuck. So how about putting it down and surrendering?"

"Oh, don't be silly, Harry!" The Master said. "Suppose I did surrender, do you have a prison that could hold me?"

"Only for as long as it would take to extradite you to Gallifrey." Harry said. "The TimeLords have first dibs on you, mate! Attempted genocide."

"Well, that just makes matters worse!" The Master snapped back. "If they're feeling merciful, they'll just disintegrate me and scatter my atoms too far apart for me to regenerate. If they're feeling malicious, they'll put me in stasis for a few millennia. Only for a TimeLord, stasis is more like sensory deprivation, so if they ever did let me out, my mind would be gone. No, I'm not going back there.

"Look, you've worked out that this is a 'dead man' switch, because if you hadn't, you'd have killed or stunned me already and we'd all be in bits by now. You know very well that, if I set this thing off, there'll be an almighty explosion. But, hey, you can regenerate, I can regenerate, The Marine over there can regenerate, your zombie friend can't be killed and your good lady over there is just as resilient. The tree will regrow as long as a twig is left and the green one will just have a ringing in his ears for a bit. But what about the rest? Your loyal followers, your Numenoreans, the Aeldari and the Naugrim? Even all the wizards you have with you couldn't protect them all. I know all about you, Harry James Potter, the Boy Who Lived, the Master of Death, The Seeker and now King Godric. One thing never changes. You'll die for your people and smile at the chance. But you will do anything and everything to prevent anyone dying for you or because of you.

"But in this case, all you need to do is exchange that key for this trigger. You disarm it and I go on my merry way! So let's not waste our time in protracted pointless negotiations, and just do what we were always going to do anyway!"

Harry had barely been listening. He'd already worked out what The Master was going to propose, but he also knew that the renegade TimeLord was trying to use his hypnotic talent and Ring of Power to gain an ascendancy over his opponents' minds. There were too many, and too strong-willed, for it to work, but The Master had always had too much faith in his abilities.

What Harry had been doing was remembering. Remembering one of his early cases as a young Auror. A haunted mansion in the Yorkshire Dales, where he'd met the warlock John Constantine and faced a wizard returned from the dead. He'd also remembered about Borellus.

"You people, what we call 'bad guys', always like to monologue a bit too much , you know." Harry said. "It's a bit of a pain in the arse, but it does give us good guys time to work things out. So now I've only got one thing to say to you.

OGTHROD AI'F
GEB'L-EE'H
YOG-SOTHOTH
'NGAH'NG AI'Y
ZHRO!"

At the first syllable, The Master froze in place. A cold wind sprang up from nowhere and spun around him. His form began to crumble away. By the time Harry had finished the incantation, there was nothing left of him except his clothing, his Ring, the trigger and a quantity of fine, bluish-grey dust.

Deadpool swore, and dived for the trigger, causing Harry and Rose to laugh out loud. Deadpool, from the floor, glared at them both.

"What's so funny?" He growled.

Rose shook her head. "I magically deactivated the trigger as soon as he said it was a dead man one!"

"And I," Harry said, "knew she had because I'm a TimeMage and can sense when somebody is casting a spell nearby and tell what kind of spell it is! Sorry, Wade, I didn't have a chance to tip you the wink!"

"But that was a Hell of a dive, catch and roll!" Rose added. "You've not lost your touch, Wade!"

"I am Groot?" Groot asked.

"I'd like to know, too!" Titus agreed.

"It's an old, old bit of alchemy, with some ritual magic thrown in." Harry said. "You get hold of a corpse – doesn't matter how old, as long as you get all of it – and use an alchemical process to reduce it to that dust. 'Essential salts', they called them. If you prepare them right, you can say an incantation over them and they'll reform into the person they used to be, with all their memories intact."

"That incantation. "Rose noted. "It mentioned Yog-Sothoth. He's one of the Other Gods."

"I know." Harry said. "That's what makes the whole farce so bloody dangerous! You can raise the dead, but there's no guarantee that you can control them once you do. A long time ago, a group of magicians on Earth -Joseph Curwen, Janos Ferenczy and some others – had a whole organisation going. They plundered graves, swapped bodies and salts, all kinds of stuff. They resurrected ritual magicians, wizards, priests, cult members, intellectuals and what have you and interrogated -even tortured- them to find out secrets and old knowledge. Curwen even found a way to make a descendant of his, a Charles Ward, dig up his corpse and revive him in the 20th Century. But somewhere down the line, one of them revived somebody skilled, powerful and pissed off enough to take all of them out! That's just the kind of 'joke', the Other Gods specialise in. They give you whatever you ask for, then sit back and watch while it destroys you.

"The Master must have had somebody around who could use the technique to revive him. Probably under post-hypnotic control.

"As for Borellus, he was an alchemist who knew of the technique and mentioned it in his writings, but never used it.

"OK, spread out and search this place. Seal and deactivate any occupied stasis pods and regeneration chambers. Let's make sure there are no more drones for the Collective or the Cyberium to get into and start any more trouble. Once it's all clear, we can trigger the self-destruct on this place.

"Rose, you and I need to gather these Salts and put them somewhere they can't be found."

XXXXX

It took the better part of a day, but finally, Harry and his friends stood on a nearby hill and watched the complex reduce itself to rubble and scrap metal. Then they turned and looked down the hill. In a cleared space were perhaps two hundred and fifty graves, each with a simple white marker stone engraved with the name, unit and rank of the occupant. Under the ministrations of the Aeldari, grass was already growing on the graves, while red poppies and white Evermind, golden Elanor and pale Niphredil were starting to bloom. At the centre of the cemetery two Mallorn trees flanked a simple granite cenotaph, raised by the Dwarfs and carved with epitaphs in English, Vulcan, Klingon, Quenya and Khuzdul.

"We will care for these graves." Farseer Galadriel told them. "This world has a strong life, and we will nurture it. The folk of Lothlorien remain Exodites at heart, and some at least of us will settle here. Those who wish to visit these graves will always be welcome."

"Harry," Logan said, "the guys want you to say a few words. They know you don't like speechifying, but they reckon you'll know what's fitting."

Harry nodded, cast a spell that endured everyone could hear and understand, and spoke words he'd heard almost every year he'd lived on Earth, but never since:

"They shall grow not old, as we that are left grow old:

Age shall not weary them, nor the years condemn.

At the going down of the sun and in the morning

We will remember them."

Rose gestured with her own wand, and out of the air, the plaintive notes of the Last Post sounded. After the last one had died away, Logan stepped forward and bellowed: "Parade! Dismissed!"

"Time to go home!" Harry told Rose.

"Damn right!" She replied. "We've got our coronation to sort out!"

"Don't remind me!" He groaned. "Guest lists, seating plans, order of precedence, menus, music….I'm going to end up doing my nut!"

"There's more important things to worry about." She told him. "For instance, I haven't a thing to wear!"