Darth Vader stared at the body of Lieutenant Harris crumpled on
the Enterprise main bridge. Imperial technicians, stormtroopers, and droids
swarmed over the prize.
"Killed by a superheated plasma discharge my lord," the imperial
doctor knelt by the corpse, examining him with the help of an imperial medical droid.
"Fools," Vader hissed. He turned and inspected the exploded panel
and melted components, spattered with the Federation officers' dried blood
and viscous fluids. An imperial Engineer sat next to it, scrutinizing each of
the components as they were removed, filmed cataloged and cleaned by the
salvage droids.
"It seems so, but it has the advantage of a surprising level of
sophistication and computational speeds for a computer core of a ship this size," the engineer chimed.
The doctor turned to a pair of stormtroopers standing nearby and
removed his quarantine gloves with practiced ease, "I'm done here."
The stormtroopers hauled to corpse away, edging around the slicer
droids plugged into the Enterprise control panels.
"Have the droids penetrated the computer core yet?" Darth Vader
asked idly. He picked up a random component from a tray of pieces
tagged 'unknown 'and began to turn it over and over in his hands. It was
small, and rectangular, consisting of pressed leafs of an organic substance
bound by a leather covering marked with lettering. Apparently, it was a
primitive information storage device.
The engineer stood with a grunt and stared at the strange object, "we found it in Jhonnluke Pikard's room; we have been able to translate the language but the contents remain a mystery my lord, perhaps you can make sense of it."
Darth Vader paused for several breaths then flipped it open to the first page, "let me see a translation."
A droid nearby brought up a holographic display within moments, "The Holy Bible, King James Version. Chapter One: Genesis. In the beginning there was darkness…"
"End translation," Vader ordered. He turned to the nearest officer, "All information found is now designated at the highest level of classification. Bring all captured rebels to the main cargo bay immediately, I wish to inspect them."
Darth Vader brought up the information of Hija's droid assisted
interface which was wired to the Enterprise command console.
"Yes my lord," Lt. Hija glanced down, "all of the prisoners will be
transferred, including those who were damaged, within the hour."
The Sith Lord planted his fists on his hips and surveyed his prize, "the Emperor will be pleased, despite this debacle." He turned to the junior officer before moving to the turbolift, "Excellent work, Commander."
"Lord Vader?" The newly promoted Commander Hija blinked, then smiled broadly, "thank you my Lord!"
Darth Vader stopped in mid-stride, and then slowly turned back, "Never thank a Dark Lord Commander."
Doctor Pulaski ran a hand along her patients' shoulder, feeling gently for the break in his collarbone. The blaster bolt left a charred hole in
his upper left chest, despite the stormtrooper battle armor he had been wearing
All of the patients in the imperial medical facility were either resting comfortably or, if their injuries were serious enough, had been
transferred to bacta tanks for accelerated healing. Doctor Pulaski thought about the amazing substance and how well it treated a wide
variety of injuries and ailments. She was glad for the help the medical droids offered as well, but she still preferred Federation medical
technology; a dermal regenerator, while it could only treat a small area of the body, was infinitely more convenient and portable than a
huge tank of fluid.
The patient winced at her touch and scowled up at her, "what're ya doin' doc?"
"Checking for infections, now hold still," She scolded him.
The stormtrooper settled down and put up with the discomfort. He watched the doctor move her instrument over his wound,
which miraculously closed, leaving an ugly red sore where a nasty burn had been. His eyes tracked from her winsome, motherly smile and
blue eyes, down over her form fitting uniform. I knew older chicks were hot, but DAMN!
"So, ahhh--" He licked his lips and with effort brought his eyes back up to hers.
Doctor Pulaski stopped, retrieved a medical tricorder from her instrument stand and began to wave it back and forth, measuring his
vital signs. She took a deep breath and looked down at him hungrily, admiring his blue eyes, thick wavy black hair, well muscled body, and his long, thick, and prominent chin.
"I can't believe this,' she thought. The doctor glanced around furtively. Only one other doctor was doing rounds, her imperial
keeper that had been her shadow ever since she had volunteered to continue working after being captured. She took her Hippocratic Oath very seriously. "We do have some time--"
"Don't you think I need some more, ah, tests?" He grinned at her.
Damn him, every time he starts sweet talking… Doctor Pulaski bit her lip and tried not to let out a giggle.
'You know that you are out of line trooper," she looked up at his chart and swiveled away from him. A half dozen of his companions laid in various stages of repair around the iron gray medical ward. Three of them were like him; clones, but the rest were individuals, recruits from all over the galaxy.
"Ah come on doc, don't be such a goody little two shoes eh?" He reached up and ran a hand along her hip, kneading softly, "I think I could use some 'physical therapy,' y'know?"
Kate Pulaski closed her eyes and stifled a small noise in her throat. She waved the medical droid away, drew the isolation curtain
and leaned over her handsome young patient, "Will you give me some more of those sweet words that I love so much?
His strong arms wrapped around her and pulled her close, his right hand wove into and gripped her short blonde hair eliciting a soft gasp.
"Gimme some sugar baby." The stormtrooper pulled her onto him and crushed her lips against her own, smothering any protests she might have made.
Captain Picard glanced over the faces of those gathered in the conference room. Some of the faces he was as familiar with as his own, others were new. Geordi Laforge and Chief O'brien, fell into the former category. Ensigns Sonya Gomez, B. G. Robinson, Taurikand Reginald Barclay, Doctor Selar, and the representatives of the Rebel alliance, Princess Leia and Captain Antilles definitely fell into the latter. Though the new ensigns were not known to him personally, he knew of them through their evaluations and the occasional brief meeting in ten forward or at a ships function. He had no doubt that they would not be Starfleet officers if they were not made of the finest moral fiber and highest levels of professional development. But, the trauma of the last day showed plainly on them all, hollow eyed and dour of countenance, all of them sat in silence or hung their heads in exhaustion and shock. Picard nodded absently to himself, they needed their spirits lifted and to regroup mentally. For his sort of thing he usually relied on the talents of the ships counselor, Deanna Troi, but as she was unavailable, he would have to serve as both Captain and moral compass. He cleared his throat.
"I need not restate the magnitude of our losses," he stood and straightened his tunic, "we have all lost someone that knew, worked with, cared for; but I do need to tell you how very proud I am of all of you." Picard's voice wavered when he looked over the assembled faces of his officers and guests. Leia stared back at him; her fine brown eyes locked with his and lent him their quiet strength.
"I am humbled by your dedication, your élan and the selfless service to your fellows. Starfleet thanks you, I thank you. I am, so very proud of each of you." The Captain moved around the table, placing a hand on O'brien's shoulder, shaking hands with captain Antilles, inspecting Laforge's broken arm, and accepting a salute en masse from the gathered and newly promoted ensigns.