Collission Of Realities (© Rob Morganbesser)
Page 1 Once she had been a grand ship, the
first line of defense in a long war. The war had finally ended, thanks to
treachery and deceit, leaving her the last survivor of her people's fleet. The
ship had led the remnants of its people off to find a new world, a world where
they could find the peace they craved. They had fled their ancient
and now victorious enemy, absorbing the losses of the long chase. Finally they
left the space they knew, entering uncharted areas of the galaxy. Finally free
of their implacable enemy, they discovered that the long flight had left them
unprepared for the anomaly that waited for them. This tear in space tore them
from the reality they had known and thrust them into a much more dangerous
one. Fully one third of the fleet, made of cobbled together barely functioning
vessels did not survive the journey. A new enemy, one that made their old
pathetic by comparison set upon the rest. Where their old enemy could
be dealt with, this new one was overwhelming them; absorbing them, leaving them
a little weaker with every encounter. One by one, the fleet was absorbed until
this battleship, once the leader of the fleet, was the last vessel remaining. But not for long. Once the captain had been a
handsome man his face framed by dark hair that now had streaks of grey in it.
His shining eyes were now dulled by the endless combat and loss of life. Even
now he stood in the small ships chapel, praying over the corpse of his father,
killed in the last attack. He tried not to think of his sister, taken by the
enemy, likely already absorbed to service them. "Father," he
whispered. "What can I do? We're all that's left…" "BATTLE STATIONS. ALL HANDS TO
BATTLE STATIONS." Rising wearily the man
known as Apollo, captain of the last Battlestar, Galactica headed for the
bridge. Starbuck rose from the
center console. "Same old song, Apollo. Different singer this
time." Apollo froze at the image
on the viewer. The cybernetic creature it displayed still had enough humanity
left for him to recognize it. Athena, his sister. The pitiless voice that she
spoke in still held the familiar tones of the voice he remembered so well.
Starbuck had turned away, refusing to look at this caricature of the woman who
had once loved him. Athena, like most of those
taken from the fleet and the ship, had been absorbed, assimilated they called
it, turned into a new lifeform, the Borg. "Resistance is
futile. You will be assimilated." Apollo felt his heart rate increase.
They had escaped the Cylon's just to face this? "NO! NO," he
shouted. "We'll never be assimilated!" Turning his back on the
viewer, he pressed a black plate in the bulkhead, a plate that had never been
touched before. Starbucks mouth dropped
open then he said, "Apollo? You can't do this!" Apollo snarled at his
one-time friend. "Why? Do you want to become one of those?" Apollo
shoved the younger man away. "It's over. I'm not being assimilated. You
can do what you want." But the argument became
moot as the ship shook from the impact of a Borg weapon. A bank of consoles
erupted, shards of metal and glass tearing into Starbuck and throwing his
shattered body across the bridge. Apollo could feel the pain as the shrapnel
tore into him. Eyes tearing, he pulled down the control inside the open
panel. Collapsing to the deck, he smiled. He wouldn't be assimilated. Deep within the ship,
control rods slid out of the engines power plant. Overworked and under
repaired, the engines quickly went critical. Apollo's sight was fading as Borg
drones began appearing on the ship. Then there was a bright light, the
explosion of escaping energy rippling through the ship, annihilating it and its
remaining crew.
2 Commander Riker was dozing in the
center seat of the Enterprise when the alarms went off. Data turned in his
seat to announce, "Deflectors just came on. We are reading a debris field
ahead." [ Continue to page 2 ] |