Disclaimer: Star Wars and everything related belongs to Lucasfilm. Star Trek and everything related belongs to Paramount. This fanfic is written without permission of either the aforementioned parties.
Chapter 1: Final Preparations
Space at its strictest definition is an abstract term. It is, essentially, the lack of matter. However, as species of the galaxy began to leave the confines of their planets and explore worlds beyond their own, "space" came to have a new meaning. It was a gigantic container, larger than any mortal could fathom, that held all of creation.
That container stores a variety of things, from the beautiful to the ugly, from gentle to violent. And no more beautiful or violent object has been discovered than the quantum singularity, also known as a "black hole." It is an object whose mass and density are so great that its own gravity field pulls itself into a zero-dimensional point. Anything, even light itself, that crosses the threshold of the black hole is pulled inside, never again to exist in the known universe.
The only measurable clue of a black hole's existence is the accretion disk: a ring of swirling matter caught in a death spiral falling toward the singularity's event horizon. That matter, being forcefully compressed, emits a nearly limitless supply of energy, that could serve both as a power source and an effective camouflage for those brave and foolish enough to venture near them.
It was this courage and foolishness, mixed with insatiable greed, that a special collection of singularities, known as The Maw, served as the nearly impenetrable walls for a top-secret Imperial research station. However, the man who had been personally responsible for establishing the base had more recently brought a new command to The Maw Installation. One whose power could even challenge the mighty Galactic Empire.
The Borg.
That man, once known as Imperial Grand Moff Wilhuff Tarkin, had chosen of his own free will to prostrate himself before the Borg Queen and accept the position as her equal in the Collective. His power was now second only to the Queen's, and allowed him to pursue his own ambitions away from the stifling monarchy of the Emperor and his pet, Darth Vader.
And now, with the fleet the Borg had amassed, Locutus Tarkin was preparing to eliminate Emperor Palpatine's obsolete form of government, in favor of a much more efficient and perfect existence. All species would become one with the Borg. Their consciousnesses would enrich the Collective, filling it with their knowledge and memories, while also improving themselves by casting off their flawed organic way of life.
Tarkin watched over the fleet he had helped create, and felt a sense of pride, as he never had before. Yet his pride did not distract him from the task at hand. He calculated any and all possible eventualities in their upcoming offensive, including both those he had known as a human, and those he would have created had he remained with the Empire. With the greater mind of the Collective at his disposal, he calculated scenarios in fractions of a second that, for a human mind, would have taken hours, days, or even longer.
In the months since his ascension to the role of the Borg Queen's Locutus, he had had most of his body removed and was now, like the Queen, a disembodied torso and head, with little desire for any body. He found such an existence very liberating for his mind, as the ships before him and the thousands upon thousands of Borg drones inside them were the only limbs he would ever need.
Thanks to his new ruler, he had been able to surpass the mortality of his limited physical body, and his consciousness was now a ubiquitous part of the Collective. Even if what was left of his original body died, he would forever live on in the Collective. Live on to rule the indestructible forces whose mere beginning was floating in space before him.
As the Queen concentrated most of her thoughts on the fleet's preparations, she gazed upon her equal. A small smile creeped up her lips. She had chosen well. Her new Locutus was intelligent and forceful, yet his quest for personal power above all else has made him easy to bend to her will. She had channeled that lust for power into fierce desire for the Borg race to control all. And thanks to Tarkin's knowledge, the Borg had been able to evolve from a handful of drones and a portion of a ship to an entire armada of attack vessels and thousands of warriors.
All were built for one purpose: Assimilate.
The Queen began to receive confirmations from hundreds of separate subsystems. All were reporting ready status.
Our forces are ready, said the Queen to Tarkin through the song of the Collective. Our destiny awaits.
One of Tarkin's main concerns, however, could not be so easily placated. Our communications network has still not made contact with the seed we left on the Death Star.
The Collective had left a legion of drones on the battle station after they escaped with Tarkin to The Maw. The intention had been to slowly assimilate the moon-sized weapon from within; as it was the only weapon they could not shield against, the Queen saw much reason in removing it as a potential threat to the Borg.
The Queen had been surprised, but not overly concerned, over their inability to contact the drones they had left on the Death Star. The network of communications relays the Borg had deployed connecting the core of The Maw to the space outside was newly-assimilated from the Maw scientists, and had been untested even by them. Although the Collective had picked up some local radio chatter, they could not confirm whether or not the network was sensitive enough for inter-sector subspace transmissions.
It does not matter, she said. That was a small group of drones, and even if they were somehow destroyed, it would make little difference. Once we have taken our first worlds and established our fleet, the Death Star will be useless against us. We will prevail.
Yes, my Queen, said Tarkin. He allowed his consciousness a second to bathe itself in the pure order of the Collective, and in the power of his mistress. Our time is here. Kessel will be our first step into the assimilation of all star systems and species in the galaxy. The entire Imperial Starfleet could not stand against us.
The Queen agreed fully. Just one of her ships was able to easily decimate dozens of Federation starships in their home galaxy. Although the Imperial Star Destroyers, the bulk of the Empire's fleet, were more powerful than Federation ships, they had proven to be even less effective against the Borg.
The Queen stretched herself out through the entire Borg neural network, taking final stock of their base. Their central control nexus, where the Queen and Tarkin resided as the core hubs of the Collective, was inside the former administration module of the Maw Installation. Standing ready nearby the nexus were over two dozen Borg cube and sphere ships. Nearly half the ships were created from material salvaged from the Imperial Star Destroyer fleet that had previously guarded the Maw Installation. The rest had been built from resources replicated by harnessing the endless energies released by the accretion discs of the black holes surrounding the installation.
Their plan was simple and efficient. The cubes would spread out through the Kessel system, assimilating all planets at once. Because Kessel was a very small planet and consisted mostly of mining facilities and some Imperial prisons, it would be very easy to assimilate. However, because of its vital role in both legitimate and illegal trade throughout the galaxy, it would send a powerful message to all species: The Borg are coming.
Not only had Tarkin's knowledge been useful, but his tactical and strategic planning were far superior to any such skills the Collective had possessed previously. Tarkin had recommended attacking Kessel for two reasons. First, that their assimilation of the planet would stop the galactic distribution of many precious minerals and spices. Second, that their attack would likely summon much of the Imperial fleet to defend the mining world. They may lose one, perhaps two cubes in the battle, depending on how many Imperial ships engaged them. However, eventually they would have gained not only thousands or even millions of new drones, but also enough raw materials to build dozens, or perhaps hundreds, more ships. Enough to quickly exterminate the Empire's core and begin systematically spreading to all systems in the galaxy.
They needn't even worry about the Empire's Death Star. With a thousand drone eyes, she gazed upon their newest weapon: a sphere ship over a hundred kilometers in diameter. Other than its size, it was identical to all other Borg sphere ships except for one detail: approximately midway between the ship's equator and northern pole was a parabolic dish embossed into the ship's surface.
When the Borg had arrived at the Maw installation, the early prototype of the Death Star had been sitting idle, docked at the station. The Borg had completely assimilated it, and aside from making it a fully functioning Borg ship, they had improved the firing capability of the primary weapon, making it more powerful and able to lock onto targets as small as TIE fighters, if necessary. Only the gigantic ship's propulsion proved to be a hardship. Because they could not construct a transwarp engine with enough power output to move the giant ship at faster-than-light speeds, they were forced to install hyperdrive engines that they had removed from the assimilated Star Destroyers.
The Queen had considered installing the faster hyperdrive engines on all her ships, but decided that the easier maneuverability and quicker response time of their warp engines was more efficient, and would serve them until they constructed a new transwarp conduit network in this galaxy. She did not care that they would take longer to traverse galactic distances than other species in the galaxy. Speed was irrelevant. Time was irrelevant. Ultimately, the Borg would control all. And, being immortal, the Queen had all the time in the universe.
The harmony a thousand murmurs washed over her mind. All ships are in position, reported Tarkin.
It is time, Locutus. The Queen's pride flowed out from every tendril of her consciousness. The galaxy is ours.
