A/N: I know it has been a while (more than a year) but here it is. There will only be two or three more chapters after this. So for those of you who have stuck with me thus far, thank you.

"Willow. No, it can't be," Spike whispered in shock. It made no sense. Willow was the one who had sent him on this crazy mission in the first place. She had given the prophecy. Why would she do this? How could she be the 'Great Evil'?

She reached out and stroked his face tenderly. "By the Goddess," she said, "The years have been good to you, haven't they?"

Slowly, deliberately, she traced a finger down his chest, across his stomach, and to the top of his jeans. Rubbing the hem near the button, Willow looked directly into Spike's eyes and smiled in a way that caused his stomach to drop. He knew that smile. It was one he had worn many times in the past. It was a smile that said I have you exactly where I want you, to do with as I please, and there isn't a thing you can do about it.

"You must realize," came a voice from his left, "That you cannot win. Even if this assault fails, Captain Riker has already sent a message to Starfleet Command requesting backup."

As Willow moved away from him, Spike leaned out to see who had spoken. Hidden on the other side of Benjamin, where Spike couldn't see him before, was that pointy eared pansy, Torik.

"Oh," Willow cooed as she strolled over to him, her clicking footfalls coming slowly, deliberately, "I know that he tried to send out a distress call. But I blocked it. Can't have the almighty Federation coming in to spoil my fun. At least not yet."

"It won't work," Benjamin said suddenly.

Willow tilted her head slightly, "What won't work?"

"The Jumper Drive," he answered, "You need the power source and you don't have it. Without that, it might as well be a piece of the bulkhead."

Willow's laughter, a light, haunting sound, echoed throughout the chamber, "My dear boy. Do you really think I would have gone to all of this trouble if I couldn't get my hands on the power source. It's true that I would have preferred to grab it on your first visit, but my little drones aren't exactly the smartest."

"The power source is on Earth," he said loudly, but Spike heard the hint of desperation in his voice.

Willow laughed again, setting Spike's nerves on edge. "Admiral," she said over her shoulder, into the darkness, "Why don't you come out here and show the young captain just how wrong he is."

Slowly, another figure stepped out of the darkness. Spike's unbeating heart leaped into his throat when he realized that he recognized the red on black with a gold stripe. As light washed over the face, Spike realized that he didn't know it.

Benjamin did. His surprised gasp broke the cold, dead silence.

The admiral, an old man with a hunched spine, spoke in a voice like chalk on a black bored.

"My Boy, I am proud you," he said, "You have performed perfectly."

Benjamin's face had gone white. His head drooped slowly and Spike could see a single tear make it's way down his face. Willow's laughter rang out again, seeming to mock Benjamin's obvious pain.

"Osborne here has been quite helpful," she said, "I thought that I had lost the power source when you managed to escape with it the first time. But then you gave it the Admiral here. With it in his possession, all he had to do was commandeer a shuttle and bring it to me."

Quietly, his voice shaking, Benjamin asked, "How could you?"

"Don't feel too bad, My Boy," The Admiral said in a kind, fatherly tone, "The Admiral Jared Osborne you know has been dead for some time."

The one Spike didn't know, the one on his right, groaned as he came around. Willow turned at the sound. She moved in that same, slow, purposeful gait toward the young man. As she reached him, he started to pull away, but she reached up and ran her fingers through his thick, black hair.

"My, but aren't you a handsome one," Willow said in a low, throaty voice, "What's your name, Sweetheart?"

The young man took a deep breath before answering, "Vasquez, Armand, Ensign, Starfleet Service Number GG-756-821."

Willow smiled indulgently as he spoke in a voice devoid of emotion. With one hand, she cradled the back of his neck, and with the other, she stroked his chest.

"Come now, Armand," she said, "I think we can be a little less formal. I want us all to be very good friends."

The young man's eyes winced shut as Willow's hand moved below his belt line. "Vasquez, Armand," he repeated, "Ensign, Starfleet Service Number GG-756-821."

As he watched her tease the young ensign, Spike realized that something about her behavior didn't sit right with him. He had heard about her going dark while he was in Africa, but this too far out of character. It was almost as if...

It isn't Willow.

Whatever this was, this wasn't Willow. She had never been the overt seductress, even when she was dark. She had ignored the only woman in their group and had instead focused on exclusively on the men. Even if she had started to enjoy things the less fair sex could offer, she wouldn't have sworn off women.

He just had to somehow get to his pocket.

"Fire." Riker commanded.

Kotor hit the launch control for the modified quantum torpedo. On the view screen, a point of bluish light sailed gracefully into space. When it had traversed about half of the distance, he tapped in a series of commands, launching several more torpedoes behind the first and readying the phaser banks. Tension hung thick in the air as the entire bridge crew held their collective breath. The journey seemed to take an eternity.

As it neared the sphere, the shields glowed in response, spreading sickly green light over the surface. Finally, the torpedo exploded in a wave of purple light, burning away the greenish glow as it expanded across the shields. The other torpedoes hit the sphere in succession, destroying huge chunks of the surface. Kotor fired the phasers.

"Well, that worked," Riker said with just a hint of surprise, "Lets find our people and get them out of there."

A strange energy drain suddenly hit the shields, causing Kotor's panel to flash a warning.

"Sir," he said, "Shields are down to eighty-nine percent."

"Did we take a hit?" Riker asked, turning to look at him.

Kotor checked his readouts, "Not that I can tell, Sir-" his panel flashed again, "There is is again. Shields down to seventy-eight percent."

"I believe I know what that is, Sir," Donaldson said from his ops station, "Those look like the transporter signatures we encountered in the Neutral Zone. But their power seems to have been boosted significantly. I believe the shield modifications that Doctor Lazarus made are continuing to keep them out, but the extra power is draining our shields."

"Get me any extra power you can to the shields, Donaldson," the captain ordered, "We can't afford to lose our shields now. Kotor, concentrate on destroying that thing's weapons."

Kotor smiled to himself, "Yes, Sir."

Spike's mind raced as he tried to think of a way to get to the jewel in his pocket. He could barely move. Maybe he didn't need to hold it. Maybe if he just got her to hold it, he could say the magic words and use it on her. He started struggling against his bonds again, stifling his cries of pain. Willow's attention turned once again to him. She strolled over to him in that same, slow, deliberate pace.

"Why Spike, whatever are you trying to accomplish?" she asked.

Spike's eyes flicked briefly down to his own pocket. Looking at her, he could tell that she had seen it.

"Nothing," he said weakly, avoiding her eyes.

A lithe hand reached quickly into his pocket, pulling out the silver bracketed ruby.

"What kind of trick do you have up your sleeve, Spike?" she asked, eying the trinket in her hand with curiosity.

Spike smirked, "You tell me, Love. Terminus praestig-" his words were cut off as an explosion rocked the room around him. It knocked Willow and the Admiral from their feet, causing her to drop the jewel. It skittered across the floor and into the darkness. The binds holding Spike and his allies flickered but still held him in place.

Willow pushed herself into a sitting position and raised a hand skyward, "Come, my children!" she shouted, "Come and destroy the invaders!"

The woman in the tank behind Willow suddenly opened her eyes. Otherworldly power glowed behind them. That same power crawled out of implants and climbed the wires to the top of the tank. Featureless, pale naked creatures flooded the room so rapidly that Spike thought there must be a faucet pouring them out somewhere. As they did, Willow gestured and several of them disappeared. Willow's eyes widened and a look of confused concerned passed over her face. More creatures made their way into the room. She gestured and they disappeared as well. Again, she seemed confused, but also fearful.

"Something is wrong," she whispered, her words inaudible to everyone but Spike.

As more creatures flooded into the room, a gigantic figure rushed in, screaming like demon. Five of the creatures were scythed in half by a flashing blade. Even more were flung aside by another figure, kicking and punching his way through the crowd. As each creature fell, two more appeared to take their place, but the two kept fighting and making headway through the crowd. Spike realized at that the larger figure had to be Siegel.

"Oi, Big Man," Spike called out, "Come get me out of this thing."

Siegel looked to Spike and began cutting his way over to him. The other man, Spike couldn't see who it was, remained where he was, continuing the fight with the flood of sickly pale skin. Spike kept one eye on Willow, who seemed to be focused on whatever had distracted her earlier.

Siegel's blade flashed as he swung it above Spike's wrists. Released, the vampire dropped to the floor. Siegel immediately turned to fend off an attack from several of the creatures that were advancing on him.

"Free the others," Spike yelled, "I have to find something." He then dove into the darkness, hoping to find a needle in a haystack.

The beast roared soundlessly at it's new found freedom. Benjamin's temper, never totally buried, but never completely boundless, now burned it's way through his veins. A deafening cacophony, like the war cry of a thousand feral predators thundered in his ears. Through a sheet of red, past the chaos, his eyes focused on the target of his rage.

The soulless monster masquerading as Admiral Osborne stood calmly among the flood of creatures, completely oblivious to death staring at him from across the room. A flash across his vision, and suddenly he was free. Oblivious to the soreness in his muscles from the position he had been in, he ran for his target. Countless pale hands reached out to him, but he avoided them all. His anger screamed for release, demanding blood.

Osborne turned, but too late. Or so Benjamin thought. Suddenly, the older man's hand was around his neck and squeezing painfully. Benjamin desperately brought his foot up and kicked under the arm that held him hard enough to break a few ribs. Or so he thought. Osborne grabbed his heel with his free hand and, almost nonchalantly, turned Benjamin's foot one hundred eighty degrees. The pain of having tendons torn, joints popped, and bones broken, shot up his leg and into the core of his being, forcing a cry from his mouth. Like a splash of cold water to the face, it woke him to the situation that his temper had gotten him into.

He did his best to push it aside. He knew that if he gave into the pain now, he wouldn't survive. Osborne reached out and, with a thumb, broke Benjamin's collarbone. He felt the snap reverberate into his core, but it was nothing compared to the pain he was already experiencing in his leg. Osborn reached out again. Benjamin tried to grab his hand, but with a flick of his wrist, Osborne grabbed his forearm. In one fluid motion, he pulled Benjamin's arm out straight and bent it at the elbow in the wrong direction. Without pausing, Osborne pressed his thumb against the young captain's ribs. Benjamin felt the crack, forcing what felt like a thousand knives into his lungs. He wasn't sure how much longer he could survive this. The pain was threatening to take away his consciousness. He knew that if that happened, he would never reawaken.

Siegel watched Benjamin run headlong into the crowd of cyborgs, but before he could follow, he was surrounded again. He had already freed Spike, Commander Meps, and Ensign Vasquez, so he swung his sword to clear a path to Lieutenant Torik. He struck the wall just above the vulcan's head, cutting the glowing green tentacles that held him in place. Immediately, he was up on his feet, ready to fight.

Siegel heard a cry of pain. He turned to see a man in an admiral's uniform holding Benjamin by the throat. Throwing all of his might behind his swings, he began fight his way toward his old friend. He only hoped he wasn't too late.

Benjamin felt another rib break, and breathing became even more difficult. He knew that he couldn't take muck more. Eventually the pain would overwhelm him. Osborne reached out again, but before he could find his mark, a sharpened steel spike exploded from his chest. Through his fuzzy vision, Benjamin could just barely make out a gigantic figure behind Osborne, like the Grim Reaper standing in judgment. Benjamin dropped, and as Osborne was torn in half, one thought rang through Benjamin's mind, I'm next.