FicWad

- Traders' World -

--Conclusion--

25

When Gamma Team finally arrived on the bridge of the Enterprise, most of the others were already present - still in their disguises. Ambassador Worf and Chancellor Martok were inspecting the tactical post. Spike was lingering with an expression of sheer boredom, until he saw Buffy appear from the elevator. For a second his whole being beamed with a mix of relief and joy. He quickly gathered himself.

The Slayer didn't even notice. She barely even registered him.

They saw that Giles was within a huddle that had formed around the rear engineering station. Commander La Forge was sat there examining a metallic sphere the size of a football. It had blinking lights and circuitry about its surface. Around him, watching eagerly, were Captain Picard, Commander Riker, and the former Watcher.

Willow and Buffy made their way over to him and both drew near. Willow rested a comforting hand on his arm. The three of them shared a quiet smile. They were each pleased to see that they were all unharmed.

After a brief explanation of their own misadventure, Troi and the two Scoobs listened to Picard and Giles' description of their Fyarl encounter.

When the account was over, Picard added: "We were able to recover this." He pointed to the sphere beside La Forge.

The engineer spun in his seat. "Near as I can tell, it's a cloak enhancer."

"Enhancer?" Riker puzzled.

"That's right," La Forge confirmed. "Capable of generating enough output to extend a Bird of Prey's cloak to...maybe ten times its original specifications. Possibly more. I doubt it's ever been tested."

Riker was astonished and disturbed. "Ten times? What was he trying to cloak/?/ A /planet/?!"

"He was most likely attempting to cloak his entire fleet of shuttles," Worf said from tactical. He examined the screen there and continued: "The Rutherford has recorded near to a hundred individual shuttles departing from the asteroid field."

The captain acknowledged the information.

"Looks like you had better luck than us," said Riker, turning back to Picard. "We managed to let one of those creatures escape with another device."

Worf grumbled. "The.../thing/...had mind-controlling abilities."

"But we were able to identify the device," Riker pointed out.

Worf handed La Forge the tricorder with the recorded information. "It was a tachyon diffuser."

The engineer's face dropped. "If that's true, then it may be impossible to detect the Bird of Prey."

"Well, there's no hiding the fleet of shuttles he's stolen," said Picard. "Not now that we have this." He indicated the cloak enhancer again.

"I am afraid I discovered nothing," Martok admitted.

"At least you all got closure," moaned Spike, not at all pleased that he'd had to bail out of a potentially fun brawl just as he was getting in the swing.

"And Data's /gone/," Troi reported sadly. "He's totally lost to the evil that's within him. Also, these actuation devices" - she pulled hers from her robe - "don't work. The entity rebooted Data's systems from the inside."

"That reminds me," Giles said, "there's a point I should make. Though I'm not sure if it will be of any importance. But, the Darkness can only exist, physically, in the body of a mortal. Demons and the dead are only fit to be its slaves. But the host must have a soul. The soul is what breathes life into the body and it is through the soul that it can claim the body as its own. Like a...a living womb."

There was a pause filled with quiet contemplation.

Worf perked up: "We're receiving a message from the Rutherford. They have picked up the trail of the shuttle fleet, sir."

"Very well," said the captain. "Lay in a pursuit course and engage at maximum warp." He turned to the others. "In the meantime, we shall report to sickbay for the Bajoran implants removing."

*

After a brief detour by the U.S.S. Rutherford/ /to collect the damaged Narayan from a cloud pocket, the 2 Starships gave chase out of the Territory - hot on the heels of the enemy.

*

On the bridge of the Rutherford, Freeman nodded with satisfaction when Chevva confirmed they were underway. "Come on," he said, leading Xander to the turbolift.

Both men stepped in and Freeman called: "If you need me, I'll be in holodeck one." And the doors shut as he asked for Deck 5.

The lift set off, and Freeman let himself relax for the first time since they got back on...slightly more solid ground. "You're pretty impressive with a phaser," he said to Xander.

"Yeah?" he replied. "That was nothin'. I can strip a nail-gun in under forty-five seconds!"

Freeman chuckled. "Are you busy, Harris?" he asked.

"I...should go check in with Anya," he replied. "She's probably on a worry-factor of about ten."

The captain frowned at him.

"She'll be worried. She always worries. She worries when I slay, she worries when I work. Thinks I'll cut something off one day. Always havin' nightmares I'll come home after a hard day's sloggin' missing an arm... or a head."

"Sounds like big love to me," Dave observed. "What is it you do? For work?"

"Construction."

"Ah. You build things. Somehow that doesn't surprise me." After a beat, Freeman continued, "Go see her. Tell her you're okay. If you don't want to worry her, don't let on how close we came to... well... I'll back you up if she asks."

"Thanks. Last thing I need is to have her hyper-panicky."

"I do want you to do me a favour in return, however."

It was Xander's turn to frown.

"Meet me outside holodeck one in twenty minutes. I'm sure you'll find it easily enough. It's on your floor."

Xander's frown persisted.

As the lift came to rest at Xander's stop - his quarters on Deck 5 - Dave explained: "I'd like you to run through some basic training programs. For my own peace-of-mind if for no other reason."

Xander agreed to whatever the captain expected of him, and left to call in on his girl.

*

Three quarters of an hour later, Picard's readyroom door hissed apart to reveal Commander Riker; now fully human and in his black and grey uniform.

"Reporting for duty, Captain."

Picard looked up from a PADD. "Come in, Will."

Riker threw a thumb back to the closing doors. "I notice we haven't caught up to those shuttles yet."

"And we're not going to for some time. I've had our speed reduced to warp one."

Riker frowned.

"I've received a coded message. New orders from Command regarding our pursuit of the fleet," the captain explained. "They're on a course for Earth, and it's safe so assume that the Bird of Prey is with them."

"All the more reason to stop them now. Before they reach Earth."

Picard inclined his head in agreement. Riker could see there was a 'but' coming up.

"It seems that the Klingons have a ship in sector one. They've taken a keen interest in the outcome of this mission and are posting their ship in wait behind the sixth moon of the Epsilon Ursae system. A Negh'Var-class attack cruiser."

"The most powerful ship in the Klingon fleet," Riker said in wonder.

"Precisely. And we're heading right into its path."

"A trap?"

Picard nodded.

Riker looked more than a little perturbed. "Starfleet's putting a lot of faith in a simple trap. If it doesn't work, Data will reach Earth in a matter of hours."

"That's why we have to make it work," Picard said.

"It'll be rough."

"Extremely."

A moment later, Riker spoke: "Then I'll see that we don't get too close to their tail, Captain." He began to leave, but turned to inspect Picard's weary face. "Something else bothering you, sir?"

Picard looked up from his tactical reports, gave Riker's question some thought, and admitted: "It's something Rupert said."

"Rupert?"

Picard shook his head. "Mr. Giles."

"Oh. You mean about this 'Darkness' needing a host with a heart."

Picard's nostrils flared as he breathed in; in the way Riker recognised as his captain suddenly becoming intense about the topic they were discussing. "Not a heart," he corrected. "A soul/." Picard lay down the PADD in his hand. "Do you realise what that means, Number One? Data truly /is alive."

He got up from his desk and moved around it. "I defended him when Starfleet wished to prove he was nothing more than a machine!" He stepped across to the window. "I fought to establish his sentience!" Picard stared out at the moving stars. "But only now does it become clear." He closed his eyes for a time, then looked back at his second in command. "Data is alive. Data has a /soul/."

Riker felt the weight of that fact suddenly, as though he hadn't already known it was true.

Picard looked back out through the glass. "Will, he needs our help. We must save him. I at least owe him that much."

"There's not a member of this crew who's willing to settle for anything less, Captain," Riker assured him. "We will make it so. Whatever it takes."

Picard didn't look back to him, but nodded.

Riker was about to leave again when his own concerns came back to him. "Look, Captain. Personally I don't believe in magic, but whatever happened to me back on the planet was... disturbing. Unnatural. Beyond anything I can explain or understand. ...What I'm trying to say is... Whatever hope we have of resolving this situation may lie with the Spooky Group. With their abilities."

Picard did look back at that. "The 'Spooky Group'?"

"I overheard some of the young officers chatting," Riker expanded with a hint of a smile. "It seems that the 'Slayer' and her team have acquired a reputation with our ensigns. And a nickname to go with it."

Picard pondered over it and also smiled a little. "The Spooky Group?"

Riker shrugged. "It fits. Ghost stories have taken over conversation onboard the past few days. I don't think the crew knows whether to befriend our guests or fear them." The commander then turned and made for the bridge, leaving the captain to his contemplation. The fate of the galaxy, and indeed the universe, was in their hands. Most importantly to his heart; so was the fate of his second officer.

*

A terrible convoy of ships - 93 in all - made up of shuttlecraft, runabouts, and non-Starfleet pods, travelled at their maximum velocity of warp 2 directly toward the Sol system. They flew in an elliptical formation around an empty pocket of space. Empty, that was, to the eye.

For, within that space, a deadly weapon cruised steadily. A Klingon scoutship boasting dangerous experimental technology created for terrorism.

They made little sound as they moved at speeds faster than any sound could travel. Yet, an echo did resonate through the pocket of subspace that surrounded the Bird of Prey. It was the sound of a violin.

As the vessel glided like an eagle through the stars, from within her bowels came the beautiful music of Handel's violin sonata in D major.

On the blood encrusted bridge, sat in the commanding chair, Data played the first movement of Handel's masterpiece on a replicated violin. All else was quiet around him.

Data's eyes were closed as he played his bow over the strings of the instrument that rested between his shoulder and chin. His performance was flawless. Note-perfect. His head moved with subtle expression to the rhythm. He was lost in his music.

Another face moved close to his, this one hideous and disfigured. The face of a demon. It examined Data's lost expression like a predator examines a wounded prey, and growled. When the android did not acknowledge its presence, the demon curled back its lips and spoke: "That taka-yon diffuser thing's installed, Chief."

The music stopped suddenly when the android thrust his violin bow into the demon's neck. The demon gagged and winced with pain, but the artificial man didn't release the long stick of wood and horsehair that penetrated its throat.

"NEVER interrupt me when I am expressing myself!" he warned as he pulled the demon closer. "Or I MAY choose to express myself by tearing your eyes out from their sockets." He let the creature go. "And, furthermore, don't waste my time with your grating dialogue. I am aware of your thoughts at all times. Your knowledge is my knowledge." He took a moment to consider that. "Knowledge may be too strong a word for the drivel that swims through the slush you call your brain."

The Hell-Beast nodded and gargled. It choked as it ambled away from the Klingon bridge holding the bow cautiously as it went.

The evil spirit, in the form of Data, stepped down boldly from the command chair and disregarded the violin. He surveyed his bridge and thought back to the words of the Slayer...

He began to recite: " 'Be bloody, bold, and resolute! Laugh to scorn the power of man, for none of woman born shall harm Macbeth.' ... Smart, Slayer. Very smart. But this is not Shakespeare. And life, that you so wish to preserve, is frail... and you are far from being immortal." His confidence was at its peak. He knew that no mortal was able to defeat him. No mortal, no alien, no weapon, and no machine. He had been bound once, but never defeated. The Slayer would soon meet her end. Permanently. And the infinity of the universe would be his to mould into any shape he might choose.

Data moved to a forward workstation.

During his encounter with the Slayer on the planet's surface, he had received knowledge from his minions still onboard the Bird. He had been aware of the skirmish with the shuttlecraft. Moreover, that another shuttle had appeared to aid the first.

The android worked the computer. "It seems that a Federation shuttle was able to track us while cloaked; even without a tachyon sweep," he muttered. Such a sweep would no longer be effective now that the tachyon diffuser was installed.

Internal diagnostic results appeared on his monitor and he explained aloud; for no other reason than it felt good to have a voice once again: "There is an imbalance in the fuel supply. The portside engines are receiving a ten-percent overflow, causing the excess to be vented. We're leaving footprints." He located the fault with the internal sensors. "The injectors need re-aligning." Then he spoke to a red-skinned demon stood close by: "Fix it."

The demon looked to either side of itself and said: "Me?" He went slightly redder with panic. "I don't know how."

With a thought from the Dark Spirit, the demon's eyes grew suddenly wide with knowledge. "Whoa," it gasped, "that was a killer rush." The demon turned then and left, rubbing at its sore head as it pounded with a wealth of new information.

The android also went to work. He began to write a program. In all, it took him less than thirty minutes to complete. He linked the tactical weaponry controls directly to both cloak devices - the primary and the new experimental piece of technology he'd acquired on the surface. He then set up a time-delay program that would run automatically when certain commands were given to the computer. If all went well and this device was successful, it would be an invaluable weapon. If it failed, ...there would be other hosts. And other armies.

" 'Life is but a walking shadow. A poor player that struts and frets his hour upon the stage and then is heard no more. It is a tale told by an idiot, full of sound and fury... signifying... NOTHING!'"/ /He activated the program.

" 'I 'gin to be aweary of the sun, And wish the estate o' the world were now undone!' ...Good will no longer prevail! Not this day! Not EVER!"

A zombified Klingon engineer observed a rear terminal under the guidance of the Darkness like a puppet. It reacted to new information that scrolled across the small screen and quietly hissed a slur of words to itself: "Doubllle-lllayered cloaaaking fieldsssss activvve."

The android already knew that the technology was now installed. Yet there was still the chance that it would fail to function. "I'll believe that it works when I see it for myself," he replied.

He also knew that the Enterprise was nowhere to be seen. Long-range sensors detected no vessels within range. That gave him enough time to run a test of his new weapon.

With one unified action, the entire fleet dropped out of warp and came to a complete standstill surrounding the concealed Bird of Prey.

He was aware of all things around him. He knew the long-range sensor readouts. He saw through the eyes of his dead Klingon engineer. He knew that repairs were underway to fix the engine problem - courtesy of the various demon breeds and alien crew that were joined with him. "I'm bringing the new program online and re-routing all cloak and tactical commands through it," he muttered, enthused. He returned to the command chair and ordered the periscope to be deployed. He gripped the handles as it descended, and snapped them open. Peering into the sights, he called out: "Status of cloak?"

The instant the living-dead Klingon set its eyes on the relevant information, Darkness knew the answer.

"functioniiiing withiiin sssafety sspecificationnnsss," it replied nevertheless.

With an unspoken command, the weapons systems were brought online. The android swung his scope around to a new bearing. It was time to test his device. Time to test the program he'd written for it. His eyes narrowed. There was a suspicion in the back of his thoughts.

By travelling with his army of shuttles, he was restricted to the maximum speed that those ships could reach - a warp factor of just 2. He found it curious that the Enterprise had not already intercepted them. Especially since he'd lost the cloak enhancer.

There was always the possibility that they were unable to pursue. Then there was also the possibility that they chose not to follow, which raised all kinds of questions. But one fact could be stated for certain; it did not matter. The Dark Spirit was not troubled by such inconsequential details. Nothing stood between him and the Hellmouth now but distance. It was only a matter of time until that too was behind him. However long that would be, and in whatever form he should assume.

The android was, by far, his premier choice of host. A living machine with strength and knowledge beyond anything both in the mortal and supernatural realm. Yet, still expendable when the end came. There was no fear. No worry. The final hour would soon be at hand. Life was nothing more than a piece of badly-made theatre, and the curtain was about to fall for the last time.

*

From the emptiness at the heart of the android's fleet, the sound of a weapon-launching system activating echoed through the void. But there was nothing to see. Until a moment later, when a single glimmering torpedo appeared as if from nowhere.

It streaked forward into the shuttle fleet...

A tiny non-Federation shuttlepod with no weapons and minimal shields took the impact directly. It exploded, sending debris through the sea of ships - bouncing off their shields and drifting away.

Quiet returned.

The ships set course.

An entire army of vessels moving together into warp.

To Earth.