Well, here is the fiction I mentioned. First, I'd like to say that this
is being posted here because this how I see a great series being made
greater by making it what all media should be: anime. The teaser does
not show all the anime aspects, it is a teaser. If you want to preread
the rest of the series, send me an e-mail, I'll put you on a list and send
you further installments for pre-reading. Anywho, aqui vamos:
******************
It is a grimmer time than has ever been known. Man had just been in
space for a paltry fifty years when they arrived. Man did not know
much of the Dominion. But they *knew* they were not to be trusted.
Some people didn't feel war was necessary, and fled what was to become
the battleground for Man's Last War. Now, hundreds of years later,
scattered amongst the stars, man's last vestige lie in small patches of
colonized meteors and one station, obscured in the darkness of space.
******************
Sei ni Ryokou de, Hangyaku!
/Star Trek: Rebellion!/
******************
A Week Later, Wormhole
******************
Cisco was nervous. Never in his entire life had he faced a threat
such as this. All his skills, all of his training, came down to this battle.
But, as when he had faced similar threats before (although none quite as
deadly), he squeezed everything he'd ever worried about into a tight ball,
surrounded it with his rage, his survival instinct, and in veins bounding
it all together, his hope. However, right now, those veins were anemic
from lack of victory and inspiration.
Then the fleet-wide signal went out. "All hands, battle
stations." Cisco listened to the voice he'd hated for as long as he could
remember, up until a couple of months ago, with a keen ear. Testing that
voice for its resolve. If it had quavered, even one bit, he would have
considered just leaving. Hell, it would have extended his life for a
little longer, maybe even a decade or so. But the thought always came
back to him, "What kind of life would it be?"
Time for final checklists. "Worf, Yar, you finished?"
Four ayes sprang forth almost immediately, both sets with a tinge of
anticipation. Ah, to be a Klingon right now, he thought. Ready to fight
to the death with anything, so long as the fight was an honorable one.
"Pull back the fighters then and get into formation." Worf and Yar sprung
into action with veracity. With little pause, he turned to Dax. "Ops,
old man?"
"Ready and willing, Ben," calmly replied the Trill, without even
turning from her station.
Benjamin knew that that was his way of readying himself. Calm
exterior, no distractions. At least, he thought, without some of those
distractions. He had been noticing the way she'd been reacting to Worf.
Best, he'd thought, to separate the two.
"Engineering?"
"Geordi here. O'Brien and I have finished the calculations and
all the modifications are ready. Just give us the word. Miles, what does
this button do?"
"Got me," O'Brien said.
They then share a smile, then a laugh. But both stopped when they
realized Cisco wasn't listening. Sadly, they shared a 'What can you do?'
look and shrug, and went back to status checking and diagnostics.
"Good," Cisco said absently, still running through his personal
checklists. Those two never had given him any trouble. Completely
dependable. The next two checks, however . . .
"Weapons?"
"Completely ready, sir," Odo replied, at taut attention. This was
a risky decision. With such a large presence about to come through the
wormhole, and with Odo's past . . . well, he'd insisted on being able to
fire "the weapon". It had become a quest to show everyone he was
completely free of the cold alien presence he was once a member of. He'd
placed subroutines, however, allowing them to fire on his word, at any
time, just in case something went terribly wrong, like . . . he decided
not to think about that.
"And finally, Data?"
His response was a deafening blast of what appeared to be . . .
music? "DATA!!!!!!!!!!" he yelled. He received no response, at least not
any he could recognize. Cisco's first acted on his thoughts. "Computer,
turn off that damned music!" Riker yelled with a sense of fulfillment.
Done with his checklists, he was aching for something to do or for something
to happen. "You'll get it soon enough," Cisco thought. After a second,
when the music stopped, he finally received a response.
"What the god-da . . .!"
Cisco quickly cut him off. "Data, what's wrong now?"
"Well, I was kinda bored and I was, uh, listening to some
classical Earth music."
"A 20th century band called Metallica, sir, with their song . . ."
Odo interjected.
Cisco once thought that Odo's (and for this matter, Data's) deep
interest in ancient human culture useful, or at the very least,
interesting. Hell, he'd been interested in earlier era sports for a
while. Even played a little in a holosuite, but only after a huge
haul. And that came about as often, as, well, being invaded. But
responsibilities had taken hold and those interests slipped away. "Thank
you, Odo, now, Data, why were listening to this music?"
Riker shot Cisco a glance saying, "We don't have time for this,"
but Cisco quelled him with a glance back that they'd developed meaning,
"Let me handle this." This near-telepathic conversation took barely a
second, however.
Cisco was brought back to the matter by Data, " . . . because
Weasel here doesn't say much, and it was boring."
"And why was Weasel mute?"
"You know why," Data replied sheepishly.
"Remind me," Cisco responded in a voice hardened by command, the
bitter-sweet rumble that forced most anyone to do exactly what he said.
Data was not an exception.
"Because he's meditating to do the big weapon thingy," Data
informed.
"And didn't you think that that really loud tra . . .," Cisco
paused,"Metallic song might distract him?"
"Metallica. And he didn't complain about it."
"Wasn't he busy trying to meditate?" Cisco asked Aristoteleanly,
almost annoyed.
"Well, I suppose . . ." replied Data.
"Just try and keep yourself occupied, maybe, maybe you can go over
your collection anime Odo gave you, Data," Cisco said in his tone of
voice which got most people to do exactly what he wanted, Data no
exception. It was a voice tempered with command and battle experience.
"Yes, sir," Data answered in submission.
"Well, I guess that's about it. Anything left Riker?"
"Not a thing, sir."
"Report us in, then."
******************
At the same time, ????
******************
"Oh, watch them scuttle around. Aren't they so cute? You're
losing, you know."
"Go to hell."
"Been there, done that, and they don't sell T-shirts."
"What are you talking about?"
"Oh, forget it. You're not half as fun as the others."
"You've done this to others?"
"Oh, this paltry linearity. DOING is more like it. Sideways.
Think. Hard. Never mind."
"But what about them?"
"I told you. I have no control over this. You on the other
hand . . ."
"Yes! I could, couldn't I? I could, I could . . ."
And he just existed there, smirking.
******************
Half an hour Later, Wormhole
******************
"They're coming through," Dax noted nonchalantly, as if she were
a zombie (or she knew it was fated to be.
"Fire," Cisco said with grim determination.
And then, everything stopped.
******************
Same instant, ???
******************
And then everything stopped.
--MC3
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