Chapter 7: The Fall of the Tkon, Threats, Criminal and Resistance
A/N: Writing the next chapter has been difficult. Some real-life issues and funerals have been challenging, which is why this chapter is late. Not my family but, friends and therefore I haven't been in the head space to do it. Back now though.
2363
The Nightbird
"Don't get me wrong," Harry began with false humility dripping from every syllable that he uttered, "I'm flattered by your interest in me but, are you going to ask me any questions or are you going to just keep staring at me like a piece of meat?"
When the Q briefly frowned, sitting at one of the small tables in the Ship's Lounge as if he owned it, Harry reminded himself that this being in front of him was far from the bland human shell that his eyes saw. The fact that he didn't seem happy at finding Harry even as he had obviously been looking for him was also a concern.
"You are meat," the Q stated to him by way of a matter-of-fact reply.
"And you are a functionally immortal expression of a fundamental force of this universe," Harry argued back. "It's still rude to stare…or point it out as if that's all we are".
"How do you know even that much about us? More to the point, how do you use the power of a Q?" The Q seemed very annoyed at this and he almost spat the questions, questions that were far closer to barbed accusations than ones designed to fulfil a curious nature.
"I don't," Harry replied, to the other beings' obvious shock. "Some of my abilities come from the same place as yours. I would never be arrogant enough to claim ownership of it".
"How is this possible?" The Q, for the first time, appeared genuinely and utterly intrigued by him. His mood quickly changed at Harry's next comment though.
"You know, the usual way. When a man meets a woman and they love each other very much sometimes they have this very special cuddle called se-"
"Do not," and even though the Q didn't raise his voice, the threat of obliteration was there, "toy with me".
"Why," Harry answered and he appeared completely at ease while being anything but, "shouldn't I?"
"Because the Continuum can wipe away your entire existence? Because we can find the start of your life and pull it out at the root and make it as if you never were?" The Q didn't seem angry anymore, merely excessively smug as if he held all of the cards.
"Like the Tkon Empire was?" Harry asked, bringing him up short. "Or your so-called war with the Prophets? I bet it really hurt you a lot when you realised that you couldn't stop them or their plans for Bajor on one of your whims. Let me guess, you still can't read them at all, you can barely sense them and didn't realise until it was far too late that they were outside of linear time….that you were hopelessly, laughingly, outmatched. How am I doing?"
"I can see they've been spreading their lies about us to you," the Q snapped.
"Not at all," Harry disagreed. "There wouldn't have been any point in it for them. They did show me many things but, my human mind could barely retain any of it…."
"Of course, it couldn't… humans are still a bunch of imbecilic monkeys after all," the Q interjected.
"But…" Harry continued as if the Q hadn't spoken, "I do remember fragments…disjointed images. I know that you lost your war and badly at that. I also know that you had something to do with the fall of the Tkon Empire".
"A treaty was made!" The blonde Q argued. "As for the Tkon…a mistake was made by one of my kind. He was punished".
"He was punished?" Harry snapped. "Did that save the Tkon? Did they suddenly become alive again? Did you repair the damage you did? No. you just slapped one of your kind on the wrist and moved on…leaving devastation in your wake. How much blood is on your hands now? How many civilisations were lost due to your hubris? Don't think I haven't noticed that you're answering none of my questions. The fact that you haven't is telling in and of itself".
"The Tkon are irrelevant, it was hundreds of thousands of years ago," argued the Q.
"Not to me. Forgive me if I'm reluctant to share my entire life story with a being that belongs to a species that destroys another, brushes off the…mistake… as you call it and who probably didn't even punish the one who did it, let alone try and fix it. For all your immense power you seem far more like overpowered toddlers than anything else".
Harry was happy to note, out of the corner of his eye, that his design on the floor was ready as he would never have been so blunt with the Q otherwise.
"Do you know what I think?" Here the blonde Q's voice turned very dangerous indeed. "I think that I'm done being judge by a hairless ape. I also think that one of my people procreated with a Prophet somehow and made you. Thankfully I don't have to deal with you personally…I'll just take you to the Continuum to be judged".
With that, the Q smirked openly and stapped his fingers. Clearly, by his gobsmacked expression, whatever he was thinking was going to happen did not.
"Performance issues?" Harry questioned, the amusement evident in his tone. "I hear that can happen with age. How old are you anyway?"
"What have you done?" The Q's voice was now heavily infused with his near panic until he noticed with his eyes but, notably not his senses, due to the runic pattern in the floor. "Clever," he admitted ruefully, "but this…prison won't hold me forever".
"No," Harry easily admitted, "it won't. Then again, it doesn't need to. At the moment your powers count for nothing. At the moment you are as human as you seem and you can die". Harry's words, in the last sentence, were cold and as sharp as steel, with no mercy in them.
"Kill me and the others will hunt you until you are dust. The damage to this universe would be extreme". The Q threatened but, Harry had heard threats before from many people in his life and he heard the poorly buried terror beneath his bravado.
"Please," dismissed Harry, "what makes you think you're not separated from your power at the moment? That would mean your precious Continuum can't contact you and that, if I kill you, the power that you freely abuse will fade back into the universe it came from. As for what others like you might eventually do? I'll tell you one thing about myself. Where I come from I am…or was… a resistance fighter of sorts but, more than that, I am a survivor. Do you really believe that in all the time that I have been here and moving about the galaxy that I wouldn't have made more of these? That they weren't fully charged and waiting for either a command from me or a specific set of circumstances to activate? Dear God, you can't even sense them and you're threatening me? I could have put them anywhere. They could be in public places (they weren't) on every ship I have ever been aboard (also a no) or in a thousand other places including safe houses that I have set up while your great Continuum collectively scratched its proverbial head. You can't find them or track them and, at the moment, the best that would happen to you would be to be trapped by them and die of hunger and thirst like a…mortal. Let's also not forget the Prophet's themselves. They don't seem to dislike me and do you really want to risk angering them as well? Do you want to be responsible for another war…one that no one is sure you'll be able to win?"
When the Q didn't respond Harry finally snapped at him. "Well, are you going to say anything or simply try and glare me to death?"
"Alright," the blonde Q spat angrily, "I admit it. Wrapped up in the power of the Prophets as this is, I can't sense it, but…if you wanted to attack the Continuum you would have done so already. What do you want?"
"The same deal that you have with the Prophets will do nicely," Harry's reply was blunt and to the point. "You know… you leave me alone and I will do the same".
"Agreed," the Q spat out "in principle. I will have to talk to the others before we can agree in practice thought. Now let me out!"
"As you so rightfully assumed," Harry said even as he began to break the design slowly, "I can't remake these things instantly and you are still connected to your powers even if you couldn't feel them so… I don't think it would be a good thing for the universe if you die at the present time. Don't think that I don't have ways to change that though. Hairless ape or not…you underestimated me once and I know that you wouldn't want to do that again. Of course, I don't even have to kill you to stop you…how would you like a few thousand years as a bonsai tree, a rock or a lump of coal maybe?"
As the blonde Q's thoughts had been running along the lines of dealing with this annoying human as soon as he was free, his face fell. It paled further as he finally digested what Harry was saying and he understood (or thought he did) the threats of more traps like this against his kind and stubbornly, even fearfully, refused to dwell on what other things this lower life form had up its sleeve.
'He probably has something similar that stops me from attacking him directly unless he's insinuating it as he did before… but is it worth the risk?' The Q thought uneasily.
"Fine," he spat at Harry. "I will carry your request for a five-lightyear zone of non-interference…"
"Don't act like you are doing me any favours you overpowered dick," Harry snapped right back, finally having had enough of this Q's attitude. "Just make sure that your people keep to the agreement".
"I will have to leave something here to signal whether we agree or not," the Q added, looking far angrier than ever.
"Just be sure that you keep to the agreement," Harry said tiredly, suddenly exhausted from dealing with this being. "The Circle stays, ready to be raised until you do, however".
"We keep to our agreements monkey," the Q sneered, "be sure that you do too. You have angered me and the whole Continuum today. We will not forget it".
"You do that," Harry said, seemingly utterly unbothered by the threat, "and get off my ship".
With a flash of light, the Q was gone and all that was left was a chuck of rock that was glowing softly with Force potential. Essentially the Q had left an odd-looking tracker that could double as a communications device.
Harry was just glad he had left and let out an explosive breath.
-HPBNW-
Malcolm Reynolds was conflicted for once and this was an unusual state for him. Usually, his job was simple. He followed orders, paid his tithe and lived his life without needing to think about moral quandaries much and he preferred it that way.
He hated moral quandaries.
At the same time that Harry was entering his ship and about to have his conversation with a being of immense power, he had a task to perform. It was one that he found distasteful but, he would often have to do distasteful things and had made his choice a long time ago so this usually wouldn't bother him.
It was the first time betraying a friend though.
He liked Harry, he really did, and he did not understand this move (at this time) as it made little sense to him but then, he was not in charge. He may have been…management for lack of a better term… but he wasn't upper management or the head of the organisation. He didn't even know who that was and likely never would.
The Asfar Qatala had benefited from the relationship with Harry just as much as they had gone from strength to strength. More than that, they had been more than happy to use each other to weaken their mutual enemies as well as both the Orion Syndicate and the Cardassian Union.
It was a thing of beauty, the way that the two had fought each other tooth and nail in their silent war even as the Asfar Qatala moved in on weakened assets and territory while the two other parties, like snarling animals intent on their fight, were largely unaware of it even happening.
More than that, in his life true friendship was rare and he had, somehow, formed one with Harry. Harry was, on reflection, smart, funny, inventive when needed and honourable. Malcolm also respected how much he seemed to care for Bajor and its people.
'He has such promise as an asset,' Malcolm mused before adding the thing that would be the final nail in their relationship. 'He is an asset though… and all assets have their time and their end'.
Orders came down, from the very top, and Mal knew that friendship or not, the Asfar Qatala had to come first, as it always did.
"Are we ready Captain?" He said, bringing himself back to the now and burying the last traces of any guilt that he had under his professionalism. He liked Harry but, he was not going to cross Durban.
He was on board one of the four freighters that they used to transport Harry's latinum. It was Harry's latinum until today and now it was theirs, now the Asfar Qatala would take it all.
"Of course, Mr Renyolds," was the quick reply from the human in the Captain's seat. "Thankfully, all of the mining is automated so there was no mess needed to be made there. Would you mind if I asked you a question?"
"As long as it doesn't delay the departure of our wealth, I'm all ears".
"Who set out the modifications for these ships? They are faster than any transport I've seen commercially and the smuggler's hold is very impressive".
"That.." Mal began to reply, with hesitation in his voice, "was Harry Potter. We've never had any serious problems using these ships, not at the checkpoints and, even if we did, these are fast enough to outrun most other ships..certainly the average pirate vessel. Not many ships can hold Warp 8 for 12 hours and be available commercially. These ships might be lightly armed to pass casual inspections but, he once told me after too much drink that the cargo hold could survive a direct hit from a photon torpedo. Even if the rest of the ship was lost, we'd stand a reasonable chance of recovering the cargo".
"That's…not something I'm eager to test," admitted the Captain, uneasy at the thought of his own death. "I'm curious as to how he did that though… I don't suppose we'll be able to ask him now will we?"
"I'm not curious either…I like living. No matter how many times we met o how drunk I tried to get him he just wouldn't say anymore. Well, he would smile this cryptic little grin and simply shake his head. You're right though… we'll never get the chance to ask him now and if my understanding of the situation is right, the Cardassians will be finding out his connections to the Bajoran Resistance about now. Even if he somehow escapes them, he'll be hunted by them, us and the Orion Syndicate… I don't think he'll last long".
"If you say so Sir," the Captain replied dubiously. "I hear he is resourceful though and dangerous though….is he not?"
"He is," admitted Mal. "He's dangerous anyway. Resourceful? Maybe in the past but then, he had us backing him, didn't he? He's relied on us for years and now he's alone and without friends and allies the future looks bleak for him".
"Couldn't he have other allies, Sir? Or make them?"
"If he had any, we would know it. As for making them? I doubt he has the time. Speaking of that, Enter the new coordinates for our latinum and begin our journey. Warp 8".
"Warp 8. Aye sir".
-HPBNW-
"So, my friend you can see… why we have a problem?" Dukat's question, spoken in such a reasonable voice, belied the dangerous nature of what he was talking about to Harry. The Cardassian's face though was serious, without a smile and with his brow furrowed in either thought or judgement.
Harry couldn't tell which but, he could guess. The Nightbird's display screen was good enough to pick out the finest details of Dukat's face and even though he was thousands of light years away Harry felt a chill.
"Problem?" Harry questioned Dukat. "I don't see one that I should be concerned with. I mean yes the Cardassian people have a working relationship with this…what was his name…Durban?" At the other man's nod, Harry chuckled lightly. "Durban…right. As I was saying… I am sure that he has been useful in the past against the Orion Syndicate but, are you telling me that the great and wise Cardassian Union are taking the word of a criminal over mine? Are you really going to be taken in by whatever fabricated evidence he has and his lies?"
"Of course not, my friend" Dukat scoffed with forced cheerfulness oozing from him like sickly treacle. "Still, he is being interrogated as we speak and I'm sure that we will get to the truth…eventually. It would be helpful though, purely to speed up the investigation you understand, if you were to return to Cardassian space and clear up this… misunderstanding".
"As I understand it," Harry began with a show of great reluctance, "Durban has accused me of killing…amongst other things… a member of the Obsidian Order. You may take my word but they'll probably kill me o the off chance that he is not lying".
"No, No. Of course they wouldn't," Dukat disagreed and obviously lied through his teeth and then reluctantly continued. "Even if they wanted to…they do not control this station. I am the power here and they respect it, even if they dislike it, and you'll have my protection as long as you are here and until this situation is resolved. They will not dare harm you here, though I can't make the same promise about open space".
At other times and in different circumstances Dukat's thinly veiled threat and offer might have been touching (in an oddly heavy-handed Cardassian fashion) and he might have even taken him up on it except for a few things.
The first and most obvious was Dukat's spotty reputation, then there was his calculating and manipulative nature that was more than legendary and made Harry extremely disinclined to accept his offer of aid and the strings that went along with it. More to the point he was guilty and he always knew that this fact would eventually come to light.
The Interrogation of Durban wouldn't buy him much breathing space either and he was now on borrowed time before Cardassian space became very hostile to both him and his interests. Thankfully for Harry's interest in the Bajorans, this fact wouldn't stop the battle between the Cardassians and the Orion Syndicate… in fact, in their short-sighted attempt to steal his interested the Asfar Qatala had simply made it far more murky and turned it into a three way war.
'I mean really? What were they expecting? Granted, in theory, they would get my latinum and probably an ally in the Cardassian Union. It wouldn't be an easy task however, given the untrustworthy nature of both of those organisations, it wouldn't be an easy task,' Harry mused. 'More than that… Cardassians don't forget slights of any kind and my old business partners have killed far too many of them for any alliance to last any length of time. I can take some satisfaction that they will make each other pay in blood in the end'.
Apart from everything else, he was a somewhat self-taught expert on recent Cardassian history and the Dukat family in particular. It was hardly surprising though as, to do business in the Bajoran Sector, one did have to learn as much about the man who theoretically ran it. It wasn't just his moods, his indiscretions and his motivations that the wise learned but, those of his family as well.
A family that included the now more famous Dukat's father.
Procal Dukat was once a very well-respected man. He was one of the highest-ranking judges of the Cardassian Justice Ministry before he fell afoul of the Obsidian Order. His trial afterwards was, as per the norm for Cardassian Justice, quick and efficient. His verdict had been decided well in advance and that was the norm too, as was the verdict, that of guilty.
They even added to the man's shame by not determining that he would be put to death. Instead, the man lived in ignominy for quite some time. No matter which way you looked at it twenty years in Cardassia Eight's penal colony was a death sentence in and of itself as the average inmate generally didn't last more than two years.
To his credit or shame (depending on your point of view) he lasted five before he died. What was certain was that this was salt in the wound for the young and politically ambitious Skrain Dukat. The younger man had also hated the Obsidian Order ever since and the agent who orchestrated his father's fall from grace.
"I'm flattered," Harry began, "by your faith and trust that you have placed in me Dukat. Whatever the man says I've never attacked you or your position". Even as he spoke Harry thought 'Technically not a lie… if only technically'. "Given the Order's preferred methods of information gathering and their history with your family I wouldn't want to put you at risk…my friend".
"The risk," Dukat disagreed, "would be minimal…"
"For you maybe. You have a wife and children though. Of all people, you know the lengths that the Obsidian Order might go to get what they want. I may not have a family…not anymore but, I still remember how important it is to protect yours."
"A noble sentiment," Dukat replied, with a faint note of amusement in his voice. Harry wondered how the words could seem so congratulatory and yet so full of judgement at the same time. "But, if you don't want to appear like you're are running away and being tried in your absence. Even if you are not found guilty, you would still be suspect and not welcome in Cardassian space…"
"Until this mess is sorted out," interjected Harry.
"True. But, until then, if you are found in our space you would be arrested and the very people that you are so nobly trying to avoid would doubtless use their tricky ways to add escaping the rightful justice of Carassis to the trumped-up charges against you. If you don't come in you will be seen as a criminal throughout the entirety of Cardassian space. My friend… think about your next words carefully… is that really something that you want?"
"Not really," Harry responded truthfully as being branded a criminal (unofficially or not) would be inconvenient, to say the least. He also paused to convey the rather false idea that losing Dukat's 'friendship' disturbed him whereas, in reality, the opposite was closer to the truth. "But, it is better than one of us is at risk rather than the many, my friend. Far better for me to face my fate than for you and your family to do the same just to harbour me".
"Fate is what you make it….but as you wish. I still think that it would be safe enough here." Dukat's voice was so full of artfully laced sorrow and worry that, if Harry didn't know any better, he might have believed it.
"I shouldn't tell you where, so if they ask you can truly state that you don't know but…trust me Dukat, the Obsidian Order won't find me where I'm going". Harry gave the man one last bright and false grin before shutting the transmission down.
It was only after he had done that, deactivated the impressive amount of encryption and removed any trace of information received by Dukat's call (in case there were trackers or something in the data sent) that he let the false aura of geniality drop. In its place settled a grim look, one that seemed to be disgusted with all the players involved in this farce of a situation.
Harry wasn't stupid. He knew he wasn't the hero in this situation, he was (indirectly) covered in as much blood as everyone else involved and, like every one of them he supposed, he thought his cause just.
It was precisely because he wasn't stupid that he always knew this day was coming, just not the exact details of it. He also knew that Dukat's friendship was as false as the man himself and returned the depth of that friendship in equal measure. Both men liberally lied to each other, often under the guise of the friendship they espoused, and held more back than they ever shared as each looked for an advantage in their silent battle of wills.
In short, they trusted each other not at all.
Added to that, even without being able to reliably use the Force from this distance, he understood the way Dukat thought and his offer had nothing to do with their so-called friendship. As he sent out a few messages (text only and encrypted of course) that he had ready for quite some time and that amongst other things immediately shifted his supply lines out of Cardassian space as much as possible. When that wouldn't be possible, he shifted the couriers through other races and companies…. That would cut into his profits, yes but, his goods wouldn't be impounded by the Cardassian Security Forces.
"So I'm a criminal now," Harry mused aloud. "Guilty until proven innocent, that's the Cardassian way and, as far as I know, no one has ever been proven innocent. Of course that isn't really relevant anyway as I am guilty". His thoughts about his guilt were tinged with more than a little amusement as he had enjoyed, in a perverse way, getting one over on Dukat for so long. "Thinking like that though…Dukat isn't stupid either, he no doubt at least suspects the truth but, if I went to Terok Nor right now I'd be playing into his hands. If I'm guilty he gets the glory of capturing me and gets one over on the Obsidian Order at the same time. If I'm innocent, the Order still look like idiots and I owe him for my freedom. He would have leverage against me for almost anything that he might want. An easy win to his mind either way and one that I intend to deny him".
Of course, this call for his 'safety' was just another move in the chess game that was their relationship. Harry, however, was far older than he appeared and not as trusting as he had allowed Dukat and others to believe him to be.
Because of this, his interests were safe for the moment, as was he, but that didn't help him with what to do next. That was why he did exactly what countless Jedi, Silver Knights and more than a few Sith had done in the past.
He meditated, deep into the Force, over what should have should do next even as the multitude of the discordant voices that made up the Q Continuum quieted the 'voice' of the Force to a whisper that he struggled to hear, let alone understand.
-HPBNW-
All around the Bajoran sector, the signals were received. Most Harry had never met and they likely didn't know who he was nor he them. A rare few Harry had met and they were in charge of the others or otherwise lynchpins in his operation but, in the end, it didn't matter as they all followed his instructions regardless.
Everything that could be packed up from the mining site was, the raw ore taken unprocessed or irradiated so it wouldn't be useful for some time and everything else was damaged or utterly destroyed.
Then the remaining transport ships, lightly armoured and unknown to the Asfar Qatala, used their top-of-the-line engines to leave and headed directly for New Wales. From there they would be redirected to one of three backup sites. None of them was as resource-rich as this one but, they were unknown to his enemies and (once Harry had a chance to visit them) they would be straightforward to mine.
He would lose only about ten per cent of his total income using these sites rather than his original one. He had intended to move to them anyway when the current one ran dry but, this merely sped things up for him.
Durban, on the other hand, knew none of this.
Instead, Durban had to deal with Dukat. Dukat was a man, a Commander, who was known to not second guess a decision once made (at least his own) and his thirst for vengeance on those that slight his power both outstripped that which was normally ascribed to his race and it was coupled with an impressive, if narrow and self-aggrandising, intellect.
It had taken almost every scrap of latinum that Durban had in his savings to avoid the harsh reality of the Cardassian Justice System and that hurt the Ferengi deeply.
It wasn't just Dukat though, he at least could be mollified with some ego pampering, bribes and careful words, it was the Obsidian Order as well. He still had nightmares after his brief 'interview' with them. Ones that included cold-faced but, smiling Cardassians and rivers of blood and pain.
'The stars are made of latinum,' he thought to himself. 'Maybe..but…they are also drenched in blood. I should have stayed at home. Nothing like this would have happened there. No uncivilised Bajorans, crazy Humans or bloodthirsty Cardassians. Just Ferengi and bugs…the right kind of bugs.
He knew where it all went wrong and it started when he had left home and fallen into what he had. He couldn't understand what was so wrong with a bit of good honest crime.
Because of that and his traumatic experiences recently, he sought a small slice of home before he left the station. He was confident, after all, that e wasn't going to be detained or arrested right this minute and so felt that he had a bit of breathing room to enter Quarks.
He also had nothing better to do for the next few hours until his transport arrived to take him home. So, nostalgically, he ordered a snail juice and barely restaining his sneer at the other customers, settled in to wait.
Only to be bumped into, heavily, as he did so and the uncaring person even had the audacity to slosh his drink slightly.
"Watch your step filth!" Durban snapped, taking in the fact that it was a Bajoran that had done this and not a small amount of pleasure at their panicked look. He usually wouldn't have been so blunt but, his day had hardly been normal.
"A thousand apologies," muttered the man who kept his eyes on his threadbare work boots and dared not meet Durban's eyes even as the Ferengi backhanded him across the face and he fell to the floor.
The Cardassians saw this of course but, after checking that the unnamed Bajoran would live and therefore could work, they dismissed the incident. Such things, while not common, did happen and it wasn't really of any concern to them.
Durban, for his part, hadn't even gone that far. He was more than content with the petty revenge that he had dealt out at the moment and satisfied himself doing what he was going to do before all of this…dream of home.
He didn't notice when the man staggered to his feet or when he wiped the blood from his mouth with a practised hand. Nor did he notice the slight limp the man had gained as he moved off with a slow and careful gait, leaving Durban to his drink.
If he had, he might have seen the small smile that briefly graced the Bajoran face, before it was smothered once again by the downtrodden resignation that was a far too common sight on the station. To Durban, he simply wasn't worth any attention.
He did notice the poison in his cup but, sadly for him, only after he drank it and it took effect. In his defence though, it was almost impossible for anyone not to notice their lungs filling with blood.
'Your greed,' Kando thought, knowing that Durban was already dead and not stupid enough to hang around and watch it, and already entering a hidden compartment on an entirely different transport, 'has killed many Bajorans in the past. When you gave up the evidence you did you put even more at risk. I have no sympathy for you and you will not be the last of your kind to die'.
-HPBNW-
Harry exited warp over his new destination and mused on why the Force had led him here.
At a glance this unnamed planet had nothing that really made it stand out from the countless others like it in the multitude of them in the galaxy and, according to Federation records, it was barely charted as well as that being done only by long-range probes and sensor readings. In fact, it was only barely Class M, with saltwater seas and a very thin, hot atmosphere.
But the Force was telling him that it wasn't always this way.
Like an illusion over it the Force, briefly, managed to make itself seen past the Q and their Continuum, if only for less than a second and he managed to glimpse this place for what it once was.
It used to be a jungle world almost as if the Amazon rainforest had exploded over the entire planet, with wildlife jammed into every nook and cranny, every dappled grove and dark quiet floor. It had tree-top cities, filled with the most interesting of things and beings that had a culture, art and intelligence that rivalled or surpassed any that were alive today.
He knew without knowing why, even as the image faded from him, that it hadn't been this way for at least 600,000 years. Even as his ship's computer correlated the remnants of building materials on the planet (and even more information came in, moment by moment) he began to understand why this was so.
The materials used were signifiers of one group alone… the T'kon. This meant that this planet used to be part of their Empire.
The T'kon Empire made the current galactic powers seem like children playing over broken and useless toys. They had the power to move stars, seemingly on a whim, and not only was that the only widely confirmed thing about them after their fall so long ago but, no power since had ever been able to replicate it or, if they had, no one had used it or made it known.
Their demise was documented historical fact though and it came about when the sun of their home planet went supernova. What wasn't known to many (but was to Harry) was that it wasn't supposed to…or at least they were in the process of reversing it when they seemingly got the attention of a Q.
Why they hadn't spread their people out more, or simply moved home planets in the first place was a mystery and that, along with many other things, would likely be lost to time.
Before Harry had found the Orb or (perhaps far more accurately) been found by it Harry had only wanted to live his new life in relative peace without a death sentence hanging over his head and, if possible, help the Bajoran people along the way because he abhorred the treatment they were receiving and it wasn't just the Cardassians but, also the willful neglect or blind eye that the other powers were giving the whole situation. Then again, at that time, he had also never heard of the Q or the T'kon.
He had tried to help the Bajoran people. He gave them a way off of the station and as much as he could other work camps as well, helping the Resistance as he could and by both selling them and enabling them to create their own weapons. This had a knock-on effect that he hadn't truly anticipated the scope of… escalation.
As each of the major (and not a few minor) powers in the galaxy had noted the effectiveness of his weapons they had developed their own (largely inferior) versions. It was fast becoming epidemic, to the extent that the older phaser style (that of a line rather than a bolt) was becoming a thing of the past except as ship-mounted weapons as they hadn't figured it out yet due to the power requirements.
In fact, it was only the Federation who were bucking this trend as they viewed this type of weapon less as a deterrent and more as a weapon of war and that didn't sit well with their sensibilities. Sooner rather than later though they too would have to adapt or they would falter…escalation didn't discriminate.
After his experience with the Orb Harry thought that he needed to do even more. He had largely been an indirect player in the freedom of Bajor and the welfare of the Bajoran people as a whole. More than that, he had realised that helping free Bajor was not enough and he also wanted Bajor to thrive as well.
Though part of that goal would doubtless be arming more of the Bajorans (and carefully so that the Cardassians didn't simply bombard the planet) there were other aspects that were more important to the prosperity of Bajor in general than just arming them.
It was out of this desire that led him to study the Romulan's research on power generation as clean and cheap power for Bajor would be a great boon for both its recovery and its future. It had unfortunately hit a wall and frustrated Harry no end as, in its current state, it wouldn't do much for Bajor.
The sheer amount that he would need, coupled with how often he would need to change them would mean that he would have to spend years just maintaining them. It wasn't feasible for him to spend the rest of his life from one power point to another.
That was why he had meditated and that had, in turn, led him here.
Predictably enough, the Potter Luck (that is, if you can call get into monumental trouble by accident luck) reared its ugly head and he found his ship trapped in an energy beam from the planet below. Worse for him, just as he had taken readings to confirm this, something scanned his entire computer system.
Harry tried for several minutes to stop this, even using technomancy to interface with the computer itself. It was beyond him however as, whatever was doing this, the mind behind it was far too vast and far older than his so..it wasn't even noticing what he was doing.
Harry then transported down to the surface and he did this for two reasons. First, he clearly wouldn't learn anything from onboard his ship and second as whatever had immobilised his ship was coming from there, he really had no other choice but to go.
-HPBNW-
The thin air made him feel like he was on top of some great mountain rather than a flat reddish plain. Harry could see little else other than the three moons that hung limply in the sky above him and, as he looked around he was aware of distant mountains far in the north from where he currently stood, a smidgen of deep dark blue that could be a body of water to the east and more plains stretching out in the south and west.
The only thing that the Force managed to whisper to him was a sense of ancient power, loss and sorrow. Even that much was only because it seemed to permeate the ground beneath him and the very air that he was breathing right now.
Magic told him even less.
Whatever had happened here had affected the flow of the universal power deeply. It wasn't a dead world too it, as it was in almost every other aspect, but Magic was torn, clumped and chaotic here. It felt like patches of seething hatred and resentment followed by odd dead zones that seemed to wear at him, that felt like oblivion.
It oddly reminded him of the stories that he heard of the original Jedi homeworld Tython, in a way, where the Force had to be balanced or massive storms would come and damage all life on the planet. Of course, it wasn't the same, it wasn't even the same power involved but, the parallel did occur to him.
Even as he took in all of this, Harry spun around as a voice spoke to him from behind, belonging to a person that he had not heard approach and he could not sense at all. His lightsaber was activated and brought up to guard his body even as he did so, mostly on reflex but with reason behind its use.
His ring was glowing softly, begging to be used, begging to unleash its power on whatever threat he was confronting at the same time.
"You are a strange man, Harry Potter". The voice said and as softly spoken as it was, it reminded Harry more of the ghosts of Hogwarts than it did a living human being. "Most strange.."
"Right back at you". Harry replied before he asked his next question, "Who are you?"
"I am Portal 18, Guardian of this planet and servant of the Great and Eternal T'Kon Empire". The being then eyed Harry's lightsaber curiously before he began speaking again. "Your weapon will not be needed here, I mean you no harm, Harry Potter".
"As you wish," Harry replied as he shut the blade down but, he didn't put it away. "Perhaps I should have led with what are you rather than who?"
"In your terms?" the being began to answer with the hint of a smile, "I am an artificial intelligence. "I'm not a…what was the word I found?... A droid, that would be a far too simplistic and entirely inaccurate way to describe my physical representation, nor am I an android like Lieutenant Commander Data. He is a curious being though and I understand why you want to meet him. I suppose you could say that we are kindred, of a kind, as he is closer to me in his capabilities than most but, our physical forms are very different".
"You are also reading my mind," Harry added bluntly, "despite my defences. Though whether you're keeping to my surface thoughts out of some form of archaic etiquette or my shields… I can't tell".
"Why do you assume that I'm reading your thoughts?" Portal 18 naked. He didn't confirm or deny what he was doing and he didn't seem angry either. If anything he appeared… faintly amused.
"Well," Harry reasoned, "you have read my computer easily enough and that would have given you plenty of background information but, there is no mention of anything to do with droids in there, robotics yes but, not droids. I made sure of that. Add that to the fact that I was briefly thinking about droids and how you might be one when you were speaking a few moments ago and it's not that hard to draw certain conclusions. It became even more apparent when you mentioned that I had a desire to meet Data. I mean, my computer has files on him, he is very famous inside the Federation and elsewhere after all but, nothing short of reading my mind would reveal my desire to meet him. It was literally a passing thought".
"Good, very good. Well reasoned but, put your concerns about my motives aside. What concerns me are your motives at the moment. From your demeanour and reading your files I can assume it is not to join the Empire. For such a small ship your computer was carrying a large database, was very organised and extremely efficient so, as you may have gathered, it would be a bad idea to try and lie to me".
"No, it's not. Not to sound callous but, empires rise and fall..it's what they do and yours has fallen…ages ago. I have no desire to try and resurrect your glorious history, I have enough ghosts of my own without adding yours. As strange as it may sound to you…the Force led me here after I tried to commune with it for a path to take. This is where it wanted me to be but, I have no idea why".
"Then..perhaps it is better for me to ask what you needed so badly…what were you searching for?"
The simple answer to that question was, of course, lots of things.
In general, he wanted a home to call his own, a place where he felt like he truly belonged rather than feel like a curiosity for others or somehow excluded by virtue of who and what he was. He also needed friendship and to keep his few friends safe as much as he could, Companionship was, after all a basic need.
What he wanted was to help the Bajorans.
They were a people that had been overlooked by many of the 'Great Powers' and had been for decades even as the Cardasians had (in their infinite wisdom) enslaved them with a shockingly casual brutality. The things they needed were as simple to understand as they were often difficult to provide.
Aside from the Cardassians gone (preferably without them turning the planet into an uninhabitable wasteland), they needed major rebuilding across the board. They needed a major reorganisation of their people, their food supply, new ships and a fully functioning government that could keep the planet and its people strong. In short, they needed everything and they needed it yesterday.
Most of all they needed power. Without a steady stream of clean and/or renewable energy, their ability to create shipyards, to create a basic infrastructure by themselves would be almost impossible by themselves and it was very likely that their people would starve even more than they already were when and if the Cardassians left.
Frankly, even if he managed to do something about that issue then their chances weren't that great without outside help but, a slim chance was better than no chance at all.
He had tried to solve at least one of those problems with his research and the creation of his power spheres. He couldn't, as an individual, do little about the political situation that prevented a larger power from helping, he couldn't effectively boot the Cardassians from the planet or set up a Government-inExile but, he thought he could have helped with their power at least.
But they didn't work well enough.
As they stood they might be good enough for the short term or to power a ship or two but, considering the short shelf life they had (compared to similar sources) and the intricate nature of their design it wouldn't work for long.
For one, Bajor would have ever-increasing power demands and for another, the currently workable design only functioned with his 'tweaks' or failed within hours or didn't work at all. He didn't fancy spending the rest of his life only making them and nothing else.
Added to that the intelligence agencies that he had been avoiding would then do almost anything to get to him once they realised that his abilities could do that and that no one else would be able to replicate them. Needless to say, this was an outcome that he would rather avoid.
'If only I could have stabilised the reaction in some way without runes,' Harry idly thought, 'but, at this point, I'm not sure whether it's the casing, the element that it used or some other x-factor that I haven't accounted for?' Harry shook his head unconsciously and then muttered "What's the old saying? If wishes were horses beggars would ride".
"I understand," Portal 18 said quietly, breaking Harry's train of thought even as Harry smothered his instinctive (and purely hypothetical) annoyance at the fact that Portal 18 was reading his mind. "The Empire could have helped you with your needs if you had joined it while it still existed. The Empire is, regrettably, gone".
"Could you help me instead?" Harry asked.
"Regrettably, no, not to the best of my abilities. Please understand that the problems that you are facing would not even be considered minor nuisances to the Empire. Our great civilisation moved the stars themselves where we wished and as we needed. A design that required the power that you need would be…forgive the human expression… child's play".
"Did you draw power from them as you might with a Dyson's Sphere then? Is that why you won't tell me? Are you afraid that I might misuse it?"
"Not you Harry Potter, no," Portal 18 admitted. "You have seen the result of power unchecked and I believe that, if it were possible for me to give you the knowledge of our greatest achievements, you would even go to great lengths to protect it…as much as you were able. To trust you is to trust everyone that you know and I have not read their hearts as I have yours and no matter what you may say we both know that you cannot guarantee such technologies protection forever. A Dyson Sphere?...hmmm…what an interesting, if crude, concept. I suppose, by power output that might equal one of our lesser inventions but, we would never have been so…simplistic".
Then Portal 18 looked truly regretful even as he sighed softly. "Let me be clear, this conversation is largely moot. It's not that I do not want to help you rather that I cannot. My core programming prohibits me from sharing almost two thousand years worth of our knowledge with people who are not members of the Empire. Our most cutting-edge resource maps and our latest bleeding-edge technology are all locked behind this programming even as I know that it would help you".
The frustration from Portal 18 was so strong it was almost alive in the air around him and threaded gently with the beings' sense of loss and deep despair.
"Be easy," Harry soothed him, "I understand that you would help me if I could. That does lead me to the obvious question, however… Why exactly did the Force lead me here?"
"Perhaps it was to realise exactly how dangerous an individual Q really is? Or perhaps it's because I have a request that I would like you to fulfil".
"What request?" Harry asked even as he dismissed the idea that he was led here simply to understand the Q. He already knew how dangerous they were and he didn't need more lessons to hammer that point home except, perhaps, to speak to how little they seemed to care about their actions and how far they would go to prove to themselves that the galaxy really was their playground.
"More of my kind likely exist," he began, "we are built to last. We are not the same however as, aside from our core precepts, our programs adapt and evolve just as you do. They, like I was, will be sleeping, and if you meet them they might ask you for something different. Today though, I am tired and feel that the reason for my existence is nought but ash at my feet. I cannot terminate my own program, I want to but, again, I am prohibited. My request is simple….end my life".
"Are you sure?" Harry asked, the weight of the request settling on him like a boulder. "You might be able to find another purpose, another way to enjoy your existence".
"You forget what I am," admonished Portal 18 lightly. "I am not a flesh and blood being and cannot alter my own purpose. When you couple that purpose with the reality of the galaxy that we find ourselves in… this mandate is a dagger in my mind and impossible to complete even as it compels me to try eternally, torturously. Even my sleep would not help me as the minute I woke, it would begin again".
"I cannot understand the hell you live in," Harry admitted.
"But," added Portal 18, "you understand the desire to end your existence, to end your pain".
"I do," Harry whispered. The shadows of all the pain and blood, the losses that he had suffered played in his mind. For a moment he could see his wives dying in front of his eyes, taste blood in the air and hear the screams of his friends begging for his help even as he was powerless to help them.
"Come with me then," Portal 18 said softly and not quite as a command as he saw what Harry was going through and gave him a moment or two to gather himself.
-HPBNW-
Asfar Qalala Stronghold
Unknown System
Malcolm Reynolds spent most of the journey to one of their main strongholds in a troubled sleep.
The journey itself had been largely uneventful apart from that and took around seven hours. If he had been awake he might have had a thought about how easy the journey had been. Instead of that, he was plagued by the shadow of his conscience and his mind, though made up years before he had met Harry, was not letting him deal with the inevitable conclusion easily.
The easy journey could have also been explained by the fact that they were going to a mining colony that had been abandoned centuries before when the minerals ran out. It was far off the beaten track as it were which was also why the journey took so long even when they pushed the engines to the top of their safety limits.
Their stronghold was the only planet in the system and sensors were largely obscured due to the massive asteroid belt in the system. Of course that was a double-edged sword but it had served them well here for many decades.
His uneasy slumber was broken, eventually, by a startled call to the bridge. Given that he wasn't exactly rested it took him a moment to understand the tinge of confusion and even panic in the man's voice over the ship's comm. After he did, he moved calmly but swiftly to the bridge itself in search of more answers.
"What is so important that you had to wake me, Captain?" Mal grumbled at him, adding a glare for good measure. "Is there a problem with one of the freighters?"
"No sir," he answered quickly, seeing the other man's mood, "we are running smoothly. It's nothing to do with the ships but…"
"But what?" Malcolm snapped at him, enraged by the hesitancy in the other man's voice. "Well? Out with it man".
"We've finally got close enough to the planet to get clear readings. There's… there's no one there".
"That's not possible. There should be sixty people there, not including the guards that should be there at all times, especially with the Vault. There must be something wrong with the sensors".
The Vault, or rather a Vault, was a colloquialism used by them to denote a well-fortified cache of useful, expensive, illegal or hard-to-move for one reason or another (or any mixture of the above). Unlike their now more famous rivals, they didn't decentralise as much as they could and although that made it easier to theoretically find a Vault it was also harder to take as they were much more heavily guarded because they relied less on subterfuge.
It was also not the only one and, frankly, they did get much larger than the one that was present on this planet. This, though a stronghold, was only meant as a stopping point where they would break the cargo down and send it to others after taking a full accounting and filling the one here.
Both did operate on cell-like structure and the people that knew of the actual placements of the Vaults were relatively few. Those that knew the location of all of them were probably only one or two, three at most, and Malcolm was not one of them.
"No sir," the Captain replied, "we've triple-checked the readings and there are absolutely no life signs on the planet".
"Hmm," Mal thought aloud. "If the sensors aren't faulty and there is no one there…." His eyes widened in sudden realisation. "It wouldn't be the bosses setting a trap for us as we've done everything that they asked and they wouldn't have moved without informing us. They must be dead".
"Shouldn't we check for survivors sir?" The Captain's question was met with a shake of the head.
"No," Mal said quickly. "He knew, I don't know how but, he knew. We need to leave, the others have to know. Get us out of here right now!"
Even as he spoke those words there was a blaring alarm that went off throughout the ship and one of the other crew instinctively activated the viewscreen. What it showed caused everyone to pause as a wave of fear settled on everyone that could see it.
Three Klingon Birds of Prey decloaking and with their weapons powered.
"Sir," added a crew member, "the Klingons sent a signal to all our ships. The engines have stopped working and the shields won't raise on any of the ships".
Mal couldn't have realised that the next words that he spoke would be his last as he muttered "Well, that tracks".
Then, before they could get their shields up no matter how frantically they tried, they faced a full spread of plasma torpedoes and disruptor fire. Transports weren't designed to see combat at the best of times, let alone weakened as they were.
It was a slaughter and when it was finished, less than a minute later, the Klingon ships recovered the protected cargo and warped away.
-HPBNW-
The small hill that he had been led to by Portal 18 wouldn't have been worth a second glance and even the tricorder that Harry (if he had carried one) would have registered nothing unusual about it.
In fact, Harry would have dismissed it entirely if his guide hadn't stopped outside of it expectantly and their long walk was done. He didn't even seem to be paying attention to Harry anymore.
Harry had engaged him in deep and pointed conversation during the journey. He had wanted to see if there was any way to avoid this without dooming Portal 18 to a torturous existence and to make sure that it was what he really wanted. He didn't actively try and talk him out of it, rather he tried to pose alternate scenarios, possible other options and the probability of something changing for the A.I.
All for nothing, besides which, Harry felt like any direct or strenuous argument for or against wasn't really in him as it both wasn't his place and he could empathise with the thought process behind the Portal's decision if not the actual cause.
"In a few seconds," Portal 18 suddenly said to Harry even as he seemed to snap back to himself, "this hill will open and my power source will be revealed. I have deactivated most of the defences but, if you try and take it rather than destroy it I will be forced to stop you as per my programming. If you use your destructive capabilities here it will cause a chain reaction which will destroy me".
"Understood," Harry replied even as he marvelled over the fact that the entire hill he was looking at was a power source and (he assumed) the actual hardware that ran Portal 18 must run under it and go very deep. "Not to be callous but… how much information will be left after I do this?"
"Nothing," was the firm reply. "My creators were careful, even in this. There will be a gap of a few seconds between my being damaged enough that I cannot affect this construct and the collapse of all my systems. During that time you might be able to transfer some information but, I'd prefer that you did not as the likelihood of you getting injured rises considerably. Also…I find myself in a strange state of longing. I do not want my death to end in theft. Let it end as the Empire should have… in peace".
Harry nodded at that, though he couldn't help the brief thought that it would have been nice to get the information. He may be many things but, Harry was not going to desecrate what was essentially another person's grave if he had a choice. He got the impression that Portal 18 didn't wholly believe him but, he was clearly desperate enough to take the risk.
Even as he gathered his power the hill did just as Portal 18 said it would. What was revealed was almost a spiderweb-like crystalline circuitry that seemed to cover the entire inside of the large hill. He honestly couldn't fathom what it was and had no choice but to take the Portal at its word that this is what it was given that its design was both too alien and far beyond him.
"Where should I aim?" Harry asked with a deeply resigned look on his face.
"Here," Portal 18 pointed and then did so again, "and here". To Harry, they seemed exactly the same as every other part of the strange design and all of it was glowing softly and emitting a quiet hum.
Once he had spoken Harry prepared himself.
Then he launched a wandless bombarda as an opening salvo at the first mark even as he threw his lightsaber at the second in a graceful arc that cut through the machinery and gently came back to rest in his palm.
"Thank you," Portal 18 said, his voice full of gratitude, as he felt the first hints of the collapse begin. Then, the odd pair shared a long look.
They both knew that Harry could really use the information that was contained within Portal 18's hardware to help the Bajorans and that he wouldn't get another chance to get it. If he was going to break his word to the Portal now would be the time and Harry did feel the temptation rise within him from a deep place in his brain.
It was also one that he dismissed. Harry had seen enough wanton destruction, enough blood and (more to the point) enough desperate wishes unfulfilled that he wasn't going to sacrifice a relatively innocent beings' last request if he could help it even if it was a detriment to his task.
Portal 18, being what it was, realised that and somehow managed to summon up the ability to smile in genuine and open gratitude before slowly fading out of existence.
"Requiescat in pace," Harry whispered to the now empty air but, it seemed that it wasn't done with him yet as a fading voice spoke to him.
"A final warning…Harry James Potter and one last favour. Do not trust the Q and when they betray you make them pay for all of us. Remember….there is…always…something… more powerful…"
"I wasn't planning on it," Harry replied although, if he was being honest, he couldn't say whether he was speaking to Portal 18 or the memory of him and all of his people. It was a lesson both for himself and the Q, one that he would try not to forget, but not even he was sure who the Portal was currently referencing with his last words.
He knew that, now his self-appointed task was complete, his ship was free as the forcefield holding it would have ended with Portal 18's death. He still didn't quite understand why he was led here in the first place, whether it was to learn a lesson, help someone end their torment or for something else entirely and he might never know.
In this case, he was fine with that and he transported away, leaving the world to its quiet peace as he had promised.
-HPBNW-
As Harry settled into the captains chair of his ship and began the preparations to leave the system he noticed a strange notification on his screen.
It seemed that at the moment (or near enough to not matter) of Portal 18's death but, before the release of his ship, the forcefield had been used to somehow relay information to his ship's computer.
It took him more than ten minutes to fully comprehend what he was seeing and to do even that much he had to cross-reference with the many technical sources that his computer could provide him with more than once.
"Well," Harry said, "I'll be damned". "Computer? Is what I'm seeing synthetic and replicatable?"
"It is synthetic but is not able to be replicated at this time". The monotone nature of the answer only further hammered home the depressing nature of the answer even as Harry reminded himself (and not for the first time) to change the voice of his system.
"Computer? Speculation," Harry commanded unwilling to believe that Portal 18 gave him an unsolvable puzzle with his final seconds of life. "Would it be possible to alter a standard Federation replicator so that it would be able to create this substance?"
"Working," came the dispassionate reply. "Speculation. It is possible with a 97% degree of certainty and with sixty-eight separate alterations to the replicator's standard schematic. A list of those modifications is available if required".
"How long would these changes take?"
"Three days eighteen hours and twelve seconds, assuming it is one standard humanoid and they allow themselves eight hours of sleep a day".
"Hold computer," Harry commanded and it dutifully fell silent even as he thought the ramification through.
Portal 18 was very clear when they spoke. He had been prohibited from allowing him access to any technology of the Empire for the last two thousand years. The Portal had also found the idea of a Dyson's Sphere quaint to put it politely.
It could also be inferred from the way that Portal 18 was talking that the Empire could have been exceptionally large as they were clearly very powerful. They didn't just colonise places, they had the ability to move stars and attempted to revitalise a dangerous one.
'I don't think anyone knows for certain how old the Tkon Empire actually was. The rumours of their technology were likely just the tip of the iceberg. So this was either so simple and antiquated to them that the stipulation didn't apply or he was able to circumvent it when he was dying. If he could do that though, why didn't he do so in the first place? Did he need to test my intentions first? Why did he do this? Did he feel some sort of kinship between us, given that we have both lost everything that we had ever known? There are similarities between us, I thought so, so maybe he did too".
He was glad that Portal 18 had done what he had thought and that he hadn't tried to steal anything from him. After all, if he could do this in a few tenths of a second God knows what he might have done with longer.
Regardless, what he had in front of him was an artificial element which (as far as he could make out) was related to Neutronium that Portal 18 called Sigium in the information that Harry had received.
It should, when used, slow down the degradation of any singularity power sources. For a clearer picture testing had to be done but, Harry had little reason to doubt the notes that he had recieved/
It would also mean that his power sources were reliable and long lasting without the use of magic.
A step in the right direction.