“Generals gathered in their masses. Just like witches at black masses.

Evil minds that plot destruction. Sorcerers of death’s construction.”

Ward, Iommi, Osbourne, Butler. (1970)

The descent into the bunker was as a descent into madness.

Buried several kilometers deep beneath the arctic pack-ice, here the High Command of the Northern Compact had sequestered themselves ten thousand years ago and had devised the downfall of their Southern Alliance opponents and had lit the fuse that had destroyed their world.

Here the civil war, that had been birthed from the scarcity that the rape of the environment had inevitably brought about, became politicized beyond all reason as the warmongers that lived and worked in this subterranean fortress devised more and more lethal weapons of their craft in an insane arms-race that saw land, sea, sky and air irrevocably poisoned and tainted by the mindless hate and determination with which they waged their social conflict.

Here, as their last living soldiers died on the endless battlefield that Hecate#7b had become, those same self-important Marshalls and General Officers handed control of the battlefield to the machine intelligence that had gradually played more and more of an integral part in the prosecution of the Apocalypse, that the point where they actually abrogated collective responsibility for the conflict became blurred even to themselves.

Here, as their war machines hunted each other beneath the poisoned  ocean, stalked each other through the pathogen – choked skies and vied for dominion within the shattered Girdlecity that was home to only the dead, the High Command occupied themselves in fomenting even more fiendish weapons technologies to fight a war that had already been lost both sides, yet they had not the whit to realize it, and moved hypothetical units around imaginary battlefields to achieve objectives that had long since lost all meaning.

Eventually, as their supplies ran out and their air – scrubbers became useless, the self – same people that had wrought total and utter destruction upon their people, the High Command finally became afeared of their own mortality and chose to have their memory – engrams preserved in the same informational substrate where they had spent the majority of the war. The made a lifeboat of the virtual realm from where they had orchestrated their requiem of genocide and took this cowards refuge whilst the Hellworld resounded with the accusing silence of the Giga-deaths they had reaped.

The Repository.

For Lieutenant – Commander Lane Hanley and her rag-tag away team, their own descent into the midnight depths of the bunker was a nightmarish journey into the past, made even more difficult by the practical fact that only Six of Eleven had a functional AG-unit in her EVA Suit, so the former Borg drone was forced to ferry Hanley, the Chief and Professor Venrax down the kilometer’s long lift-shaft (pausing the first time to user her phaser to cut a hole in each of the stubborn blast – doors placed every 100 meters, that blocked their progress) one at a time.

A tedious process that took several hours.

When the team was finally assembled at the lowest level, that housed the C&C complex proper, the light-beam from Chief Harvey’s Phaser-rifle seemed to pierce the glooming dark only with some difficulty and each step they took clouded the air with a suffusion of teeming dust as their boots disturbed the tomb – like sanctity of a place where the dead had reigned for millennia.

Hanley trained her own handphaser around her as she scanned the narrow hall with her tricorder.

=^= “There are no energy readings of any type at all.” =^= The CO of the downed USS Kirk commented, so used to the echo of her own voice within the intimacy of her suit helmet that she had quite forgotten what it was like to live without its cosseting protection.

Taking point, Chief Hanley kept his longarm trained down the single corridor that stretched off in one direction, like an ominous pathways into the underworld and he rumbled.

=^= “What are the chances we’ll run into any more surprises like your pets upstairs?” =^= the security chief posed this question to Six.

The way and ease with which the former Borg had subverted the murderous Swarm – weapon that guarded the entrance to the bunker had left Lucius uneasy. Even after nearly two years serving alongside her, the Chief (and he was not alone with this along with others on the close-knit crew) was uneasy about serving with Six and retained a visceral mistrust of the Borg that was hard to shake off. They may be mismatched allies now, but the pairing still made for strange bedfellows.

It was the rescued Romulan Republic scientist, Professor Venrax, that answered for her.

=^= “Whilst there conceivably may have been some failsafe measures, in the unlikely event that the bunker should ever be compromised, for what we have been able to glean of the psychology of the Northern Compact from our delves into the Circle-city’s repository, the faction would likely have favoured a defensive measure that ensured self – annihilation. A deliberate reactor overload in all likelihood.” =^= The theoretical scientist postulated as he peered around the space they stood in, his helmet-lights sweeping around the frozen ice than entombed the ancient structure.

=^= “With an absence of power to the bunker’s systems, we should be able to proceed without hinderance. No counting any more blast doors that require breaching along the way.” =^= Six agreed levelly.

=^= “Oh! That’s huge comfort then. Thank you very much.” =^= Lucius muttered sarcastically but without much conviction.

It had been eight days since Hanley had departed from the USS Kirk, leaving her stricken vessel stranded, crippled at the bottom of the poisoned lake. Of the six original members that had set out to search for any survivors from the doom Selquar, only she and the Chief remained. The Hellworld and the tribulations of their journey from the equator to the pole had left them all exhausted and their nerves ragged, but she couldn’t afford to let morale disintegrate now, with their goal for very close to hand.

=^= “We move out. Our mission is to locate and secure the Repository and prevent it falling into the hands of the Tal Shiar.”=^=

Lane pushed all fatigue from her authoritative voice and spoke with surety as she commanded.

=^= Chief Harvey, you’re on point. Lieutenant Petrovna you’re on breaching – duty.” =^= Lane nodded her head, addressing Six by her formal title and given-name.

=^= “Professor, you’ll follow the Lieutenant and help locate the Repository and advise how to access the memory – engrams. I’ll bring up the rear. We don’t know what the Free States forces are intending, but they are sure to have gathered their forces following their last attempt so we’re against the clock. Let’s move out, people!” =^=.

So it was that the team moved deeper into the ruined complex and eventually came upon the War Room with its congress of bones.

Within a vast hemispherical space, that seemed even larger after the comparative cramped confines of the narrow corridors with they had traversed to reach there, was the main situation room that had once housed the Northern Compact High Command as they gathered to end their civilization.

Rimed with dull ice from where the glacial north had penetrated its walls, the once – busy War Room now took on the aspect of a mausoleum. The dead and broken data screens that massed on one entire wall, following the curvature of the echoing space, once showed tribute to the massed missile launches and determined advances of their robotic – forces. Now they served to mock the bones of the bunkers last occupants, like broken toothed harpies crowing over the dead.

It appeared as if, in the desperation of their final moments, the Senior leadership and military elite of the Northern Compact had devolved into savagery and violence as they fought each other for the last few rations that remained. These once proud and arrogant dealers of destruction, clawing at each other for a few mouthfuls of a protein bar, a dark parallel to the worldwide famine that their war of destruction had achieved by poisoning their environment and starving their citizens.

Although time had reduced their once – fine uniforms to tatters and rags, the emaciated cadavers had been mummified through the extreme cold and, as they lay with hands wrapped around each other’s desiccated necks, their expressions of horrific struggle would still be read upon their wizened faces.

Lane looked down at the pair locked in hatred, even as they were locked in death, her mouth a hard line.

=^= “Professor? Where would the Repository be located?”=^=

Venrax thought about this for a moment and then replied.

=^= “Well the civilian – version we encountered was situated deep underground, most probably for the purposes of survivability given the state of conflict. It’s logical that this militarized – version would be too, perhaps buried deeper within the complex and much harder to physically access. But we may be able to access it remotely, although I’d imagine it’d be heavily encoded. =^= The Romulan crossed over to where one of the skeletal Generals remains were slumped on a ruined console and he lifted up a delicate headset and dusted it off.

=^= “What is that?”=^= Hanley shone her suit light on the object in Venrax’s hands.

Venrax turned the slim device around in his gloved hands and explained, =^= It’s a neural – lattice, Captain. Researcher Veral used a similar device to access the memory engrams in the city. It acts as a cognitive transfer link that allows the user to interact with the entities that are stored within the informational matrix. We should establish a link to confirm the viability of the substrate.=^=

Hanley thought about this for a moment. What the Romulan suggested made sense. To have come all of this way just to find that the Repository was basically an inert lump of positronic junk would be the ultimate irony.

=^= “Agreed.” =^= Lane nodded and turned to her Chief Engineer. =^= “Six. Do you think you’ll be able to access the matrix and overcome the access protocols?” =^=

Six of Eleven nodded her helmeted head and moved to the console.

=^= “Yes, Captain.” =^= The former Borg confirmed. =^= “The task should not present a problem, please stand by.” =^=

=^= “Very good Six, proceed. =^= Hanley ordered.

=^= “Captain Hanley, maybe I should be the one to access the Repository?” =^= Venrax interjected, from his position standing next to Six. “After all, of all the people here, I do have the most practical experience in working with the memory engrams?” =^=

Lane waved the Professors’ concerns away.

“Negative Professor. Six is a former member of the Collective. Her capacity to withstand hostile informational countermeasures and achieve systems penetration make her the best person for this task. Six, proceed as ordered.” =^=

Six of Eleven extended her arms and again the prehensile Borg Nano-tubules burst forth from her glove and directly wedded her consciousness to the Repository.

The experience was one of momentarial dislocation and she was confused when an authoritative voice barked out in gruff challenge.

“You are there! Step away from that console and identify yourself ! You’re not cleared for access!!!”

Six of Eleven looked round. The situation room was suddenly as it had been in its heyday, 10,000 years ago. The command-and-control space bustled with activity everywhere she looked. The great screens that mantled the walls showed tactical data – feeds and telemetry broadcast from units engaged in the field all over the globe. Consoles were alive and were manned by serious looking data techs and a group of high-ranking officers were engaged in furious debate about their combined forces military dispositions across the broader battlefront.

It was one such mauve – skinned General Officer that was stood before her, his face screwed up into a mask of righteous indignation as he fixed her with an iron stare and demanded again.

“Identify yourself Soldier !” He blustered, his hand on the butt of the sidearm holstered at his hip. A few of his compatriots looked up briefly from the map table, their faces made ominous from the light from below and then went back to their deliberations.

“I’m Lieutenant Junior – grade Vanya Anouska Petrovna.” Six replied to the enraged officer.

“You’ll address me as General, dammit Lieutenant !” The furious officer fumed and stabbed at the rank designation on his uniform’s epaulettes.

Six craned her head around. The positronic matrix that sustained the memory – engrams in eternal stasis did indeed appear to be operational. A miracle after ten millennia of constant activity, so much so that Six was again forced to appreciate the quality of Garsedi engineering. Within the projection, she appeared to be without her suit and clad in her standard Starfleet duty uniform.

“My apologies, General.” Six replied with slight amusement.

“That’s more like it, Lieutenant.” The long – dead Northern Compact General looked po – faced but slightly mollified by this demanded deference yet peered at Six suspiciously.

“What the hell kind of goddamned excuse for a uniform is that anyway, Lieutenant?” The General demand irascibly, poking Six in the chest with a surfeit of entitlement.

“I know the war’s not going the way anyone was hoping, but we are still military Lieutenant and we still have uniform standards to maintain and by the Maker I will not have any of my soldiers reporting to duty in their bloody PYJAMAS!” He hollered, his face turning and ugly shade of purple.

Six frowned and spoke aloud, ignoring the memory engram that raged before her.

=^= “Captain. The matrix is indeed operational but, judging from the cognitive decline exhibited by some of its occupants, I’d say that there has been some degree of natural degradation to the storage algorithms.” =^= The Engineer reported as the General peered around, unsure of who she was talking to.

“Who are you talking to Soldier? I demand that you answer me, Goddamn you!” The General drew his sidearm from his holster and shook the evil-looking black weapon at Six of Eleven.

=^= “Is the Repository intact. Lieutenant?” =^= Came Venrax’s voice, seemingly from out of no-where.

Six stared down the dark barrel of the General’s gun, nonplussed and replied.

=^= “More or less.” =^= she commented dryly.

“I knew it!” The General screeched and cocked his weapon. “A Fifth – columnist from the Southern Alliance !  SECURITY! I’ll enjoy putting you down myself you traitorous bloody vermin!!”

=^= “That’s all the confirmation we need, Six.” =^= Lieutenant Commander Hanley ordered as the General raged and everyone in the busy situation room started to notice the commotion and were moved to action.

=^= “Log yourself out and we’ll start the process of deleting the data and purging the Repository of those engrams.” =^= Hanley ordered.

=^= “With pleasure, Captain.” =^= Six agreed and the vista before her began to fade. The lively C&C space fading back into the past (from her perspective) and being replaced with the cold – tomb of the present.

She was about to speak again when Professor Venrax snatched the handphaser from her belt and suddenly shot Six, point-blank in the back.

Six of Eleven collapsed to the duty floor in a heap, felled by the phaser – blast and even as Hanley and the Chief began to react and bring their weapons to bear on the Republic scientist, Venrax trained the weapon on the unconscious engineer.

=^= “Not so fast Captain, Lieutenant.” =^= Venrax warned quickly. =^= “That last shot was set to stun. The next shot will kill her, mark my words.” =^=

Lane’s face contorted in shock and rage within her helmet. Her every instinct was to strike at the Romulan in his treachery, but with Six under his control all she could find was impudent rage. She stood with her own phaser aimed at the scientist and the Chief’s weapon did not waver as he did the same.

=^= “Professor! What the HELL do you think you’re doing?!” =^= A furious Hanley demanded.

The Romulan’s stolen weapon did not stray from their comrade, but the scientists voice did carry a note of genuine regret.

=^= “I’m sorry, Captain. I really am. But I cannot let you destroy the data contained within that repository.” =^=

=^= “But we’re supposed to allies! Dammit man, we lost good people rescuing you!!” =^= Chief Harvey growled dangerously, his phaser-rifle trained on the Romulan, but unable to press the trigger stud.

Venrax did not look at the Chief as he answered.

=^= “Yes, we are allies Lieutenant. Allies of convenience born out of necessity.” =^= The Professor explained. =^= “You must believe me when I say that I bear the Federation not ill – will and am thankful to Starfleet for my rescue but, as much as it pains me to admit, the Tal Shiar have the right of it in this instance. The military secrets contained within the Repository are a prize beyond compare and whoever possesses them will gain an unparalleled strategic advantage.” =^=

=^= “An advantage that you mean to keep for yourselves.” =^= Lane replied accusingly.

Professor Venrax jerked suddenly in a paroxysm of rage.

=^= “Don’t you DARE judge me, Captain Hanley!!!” =^= Venrax warned, his voice cracking.

=^= You’ve never had to see your planet burn! You’ve never had to live under the brutality of the Tal Shiar, only to see them rise again from the ashes, more brutal and powerful than ever, whilst your own people remain broken & weak! Yes, we became your allies, but not because we wanted to. We, too, dream of a restoration of our fortunes to a time before the fall of Romulus, but we have learned from our travails where our opponents have not. The Free States would see the Star Empire restored to the same atrophied arrogance of the past! With the secrets of this bunker, the Republic can see a different, more just Empire restored! One where the Federation’s support & trust might be repaid in full!” =^=

Professor Venrax was about to reach the crescendo of his impassioned diatribe when he was interrupted by a persistent alarm that issued from the console that Six was still connected to.

Venrax frowned and peered at the readout, just long enough for his weapon to waver.

=^= “NO! It can’t be !” =^= Venrax whispered hoarsely.

That’s when the Chief shot him.

The Romulan scientist flew backwards over the console, the bright bolt of phasic energy ripping through the chest of his grimy suit. Had the force of the shot not been enough to kill him, exposure to the pathogen-laced atmosphere surely would have.

As Venrax crumpled into a heap, Six’s voice came weakly over the comm-channel.

=^= “Captain! Someone else is downloading the Repository from another location!” =^= She warned, as her link to the data net confirmed that someone else was taking the bunkers secrets.

=^= “The Tal Shiar Agent!” =^= Lane realized with horror. Whilst the had been preoccupied, somehow the Free States must have found some way into the bunker and had taken the initiative whilst the fought amongst themselves.

=^= “Six? Can you prevent the download?!” =^= Hanley demanded urgently as the Chief finished checking that the Professor was dead and moved to help the groggy Six of Eleven up from the floor.

Six gripped the edge of the console and shook her head.

=^= “The download is at 87% already, Captain. I can destroy what data is left, but the Free State forces will still secure enough of the data to present a credible threat if they are able to return it to their own High Command.” =^=

And the cycle of destruction that had destroyed this world would start anew.

=^= “Kill what you can, Six and then catch us up!” =^= Lane ordered desperately and turned to Lucius.

=^= “Chief! You’re with me! We have to locate the Tal Shiar agent and secure & destroy that data. We can’t risk it getting off – world!” =^= Hanley asserted and began to make for the entrance of the situation room, when the entire room began to shake and her suit pickups picked out a low rumble that began to grow in intensity.

Dust began to flutter down from the ceiling fixtures and then drift sideways from the entrance, as it was caught in a sudden breeze. Lane stopped in her tracks, suddenly sensing that something was seriously wrong.

The rumbling increased and Lane could now feel the vibration increasing through the steel plates of the floor, she had to put a hand out to steady herself against the map – table.

Six’s voice suddenly sounded urgently in her ear even as a massive wall of dark – water moving as a single  freezing, roaring wall, exploded into the War Room with a sudden onrush of crushing-violence.

=^= “They’ve disengaged the sea – locks, they’re flooding the bunker!!!” =^=