StarDestroyer.Net BBS

Like i said in one of the newer replies, i've started to rewrite the old chapters, and this is the first one to be updated. For those of you who have never read the fic before i suggest you read no more then the chapters that have a (v2.0) tag after the chapter title, as things are going to be changed around a lot and it might get a little confusing if you mix the old versions with the new ones.

And the text is going to be a lot more flowing and the grammar better (at least i hope so) in the updated ones.

I'll try to revise an old chapter everytime i add a new one.

In any case, enjoy, and leave comments.

Oh, and i give you no guarantee that these chapters won't get revised to (v3.0) at some time, as it may very well happen.

Chapter 1: The Koprulu Sector (v2.0)

In a region of space, know to the Terrans as the Koprulu sector, a dropship skimmed across the surface of a rust brown planet named as Mar Sara, it’s four giant ion engines flaring brightly. Some, had they seen the ship, might have said that the vessel was flying at a dangerously low altitude, too close to the surface, which was fairly unpredictable and dotted with hills, ridges and mountains that ever increased the danger of the ship crashing into something. But to the experienced pilot sitting in the cockpit of the ship the maneuvering was as simple as taking a stroll on an open field, the easiness no doubt in part due to the gravitic emitters assisting with the keeping of the altitude.

The craft was of a simple, yet elegant design, with rounded edges and an overall sleek look to it, very different from the bulky and blocky military ships usually seen in that sector of space. Blue highlights had even been painted on its otherwise black hull, signifying it’s affiliation with the Mar Saran militia.

A peculiar looking symbol was also visible on the hull. It was that of a flag, with a blue cross drawn across it, on an otherwise unremarkable red background. Several small white stars were also lined within the cross, the number correlating with the number of worlds currently under control by the organization to which the image was affiliated. Some historians would recognize it as the Confederate flag from a civil war fought hundreds of years earlier on a planet lightyears from Mar Sara. Incidentally, the name of the organization currently associated with the symbol was also the Confederacy, weather by chance or purpose, nobody could tell.

Dawn had just broken, and the first rays from the scorching sun were already lighting up the red and brown landscape all around the speeding ship, bathing it in a bright light and making the sand shimmer, as if it were made of small grains of gold. Nothing, except a few plants and trees could be seen on the otherwise barren surface, no water, no buildings and no people, this was after all what the Confederacy had termed a backwater planet. Scarcely populated, with only a few mining colonies here and there. The natural resources being the only real reason anyone took any interest in the planet in the first place. The vast mineral fields and the vespene gas deposits, that the Confederate industry relied on so heavily, could be found in abundance on the planet.

Private Chris Morham, a marine in service of the colonial militia, sat in one of the many uncomfortable seats lined on either side of the dropship, strapped in tightly so that he wouldn’t fall over every time the pilot had to maneuver sharply to avoid an outcropping or ride in the landscape. There were also five other marines in that same cramped little space of the drop bay, all belonging to the same squad as Morham.

Where the hell is the magistrate sending us this time, he wondered as he sat there, preparing mentally for the mission that was to come.

Planets like Mar Sara rarely saw any real military conflicts, so the tasks usually performed by the local militia were nothing more then keeping the peace and suppressing the occasional riot. The only real action they had seen was when the occasional pirate group or terrorist organization decided to use their planet as a base of operations. But those incidents were few and far between these days, with the Confederacy slowly tightening its grip on even the most remote worlds.

Morhams thoughts shifted from the mission to something he had been thinking about before they had touched off. For some time now, he had been wondering what life would be like outside the military, what it would be like as a civilian. He had served as a marine in the Confederacy almost all his adult life now, the reasons for joining long forgotten. At first he had been stationed on his home planet of Tarsonis, and then later, during the guild wars, he had been reassigned to the front, where he had spent two very long years trying just to survive.

During this time, he had voiced his opinions and dislikes of the Confederacy and their policies once to often and so he had finally been demoted, just as the war had ended, and that was why he was now stationed on Mar Sara. A position that had originally been intended as a punishment, but Morham had grown to like the peaceful little planet and the quiet atmosphere it harbored, a welcome change from all those muddy trenches he had spent most of his time in during the guild wars, with the sounds of automatic gunfire and explosions ringing constantly in his ears.

But thinking about leaving the military was pointless now. No one could retire any more, at least not alive, not since what happened at Chau Sara, the neighboring planet and twin of Mar Sara.

But then again, why would he even want to leave the service? All he knew was war and how to be a soldier, and a damn good soldier he was too. Still, he was getting tired of the same routines day in and day out. Life had to have something more besides killing in it, right? And the thought of someday having to re-live those two years of hell he experienced during the guild wars wasn’t all that comforting, he wasn't sure he could go through all that one more time and survive, at least not with his sanity intact.

"'Ere, have a drink, you look like you could use one." The marine sitting next to Morham said, and extended a small silver colored flask his way. His voice was raspy and he reeked of the stuff inside the flask. Anderson was his name, a private just like Morham, and one of the closest and most trusted friends he had, despite his love for the bottle.

Their Sergeant hardly agreed with Morham’s high opinions of him though. Being drunk during combat missions wasn’t a quality he liked in his soldiers all that much. But despite all that, Anderson was a fair combatant. And out here on the very edge of civilized space, you couldn’t be too picky, you hade to make due with what you had, even if it was a somewhat drunk marine carrying a fully automatic gaussrifle capable of tearing whole groups of people apart in mere seconds.

"Nah, thanks for the offer but I'd rather be sober during this one, I've had a bad feeling about this mission all morning." Morham replied.

"Suit yerself then," Anderson said, taking a big gulp from the flask. "Me on the other hand," he continued, stopping in mid sentence as if to gather his own thoughts. "I need a little alcohol in me to get the old blood pumping." He said, finishing with a hearty laugh and another gulp from the flask. “Besides, I’d probably go insane if wasn’t drunk during these engagements.”

Morham didn’t doubt that, and if the man kept going like this, he would probably pass out long before they even got out of the ship, which wouldn't necessarily be a bad thing.

But Anderson and Morham weren't the only ones in the dropship waiting for their deployment. Sitting next to and in front of them were three other marines, all part of their six man squad, with the sixth, their Sergeant, still in the cockpit with the pilot. No doubt on the horn with command, receiving orders and deciding on the best way to execute them.

The other marines were all clad in the same kind of standard issue CMC-400 powered combat suits Morham and Anderson was. A suit designed to enhance the combat effectiveness of a soldier by adding a great deal of protection and strength, as well as a nifty heads-up display to the soldier’s disposal. Heck, you could even take a walk in space with the damned thing on, as it had an autonomous life-support unit and offered full NBC protection to the wearer, all so that the marines could fight on planets not otherwise suited for human life. Though Morham had to admit that he thoroughly hated missions situated in space, the thought of going spinning off into the endless void and then lowly running out of air wasn’t the best way to die in his mind. The only downside with the suit was that the agility was severely hampered due to its bulkiness. So bulky in fact, that Morham thought they made the men inside look kinda like super sized steel gorillas.

Though they all wore the same kind of armor, they each had a very unique look to them that helped them recognize who was who in combat situations. It was, in fact, common practice among marines serving on the fringe worlds, where Confederate regulations weren’t as strongly enforced, to paint and augment their suits so that they had a very personal look and feel to them. Including nifty catchphrases like ‘death incarnate’ and various images, like Anderson had done, was something practiced by the general majority here, so too in Morham’s squad. He himself sported a suit with the image of a clenched fist on his right shoulder pad and the phrase ‘Ass-end here’ with an arrow pointing to his foot, on his left leg.

The same kind of augmentation was also done with their C-14 rifles, with Morham having named his ‘Bertha’, after a particularly vicious dame he had had an unfortunate encounter with a few years back, and lettering the phrase ‘I come in peace’ on its side.

The door separating the drop area of the dropship from the cockpit slid open suddenly, and into the drop bay stepped a man, wearing an even bulkier model of the combat suit then the CMC-400. It was Sergeant Coldwell. He was closely followed by another man, this one wearing only his civvies. Morham didn’t recognize him so he presumed he was a technician or perhaps an engineer assigned to their squad for the duration for the mission for some reason.

There was something very odd about him though, something that felt out of place. Morham couldn’t quite put his finger on what that might have been, but there was definitely something strange about the man. The way he moved for example, it almost seemed too graceful and too controlled. And his eyes, they were a piercing blue color and darted around the drop bay with a very calculating look in them, and when they met with Morham’s own, the marine couldn’t help but turn away from the sheer intensity in them. No, there was something very different with this man, that much was plainly noticeable now, and the realization of exactly what that was hit Morham like a brick to the head a few seconds later.

"Alright marines, listen up!" The Sergeant shouted, demanding everyone’s full attention. The men quieted in anticipation, perhaps he had finally deemed it fit to let them in on their orders, they had after all been waiting for nearly an hour already, without the slightest idea about where they were going and what they were supposed to do.

“No doubt you have all heard about the aliens attack on Chau Sara by now,” The Sergeant started, and yes, they all had. In fact, it would have been quite the trick to avoid hearing about it, with every single news station talking about nothing else but just that, and rumors spreading through the colonies like wildfire.

“But just to separate the rumors from the facts, I will start by restating the true version of what happened during the attack and thereafter. Keep in mind that what you are about to hear is classified and should not to be repeated ever again.” He said, giving the men a glare that told them that should they disobey, they would quickly find his foot up their ass.

“Two days ago, a large fleet of alien warships dropped out of warp near the planet in question. They then proceeded to destroy the small contingent of ships stationed in the planets orbit and bombard the entire surface for a prolonged period of time. They gave no warning and no explanation for what they did, except to identify themselves as the Protoss, and as a result of their actions, every single living thing on that planet, along with over ten thousand colonists, were wiped out in a matter of seconds.”

So it was true, Morham thought. The entire planet was dead now, just like the rumors had said. Why would an alien race they hadn’t even heard of before do something like this. And why wasn’t he more surprised that aliens existed? It wasn’t as if any had ever been encountered before.

“This unprovoked attack was quickly followed by a large Confederate fleet in the nearby system mounting for a counter attack, the operation however, failed miserably, and most of the ships participating were destroyed in the ensuing chaos.” He continued.

So it’s war then, Morham thought, the Confederacy was at war with the mysterious aliens known as the Protoss. He guessed that whoever won wouldn’t really matter to him, as he was bound to die before the end. His hopes of never again seeing the horrors he saw during the guild wars were quickly diminishing.

“And this is where we come in gentlemen. I'll let specialist Fitch here explain the details of our mission to you." He motioned to the man who had come in behind him to take his place and speak up.

"During the battle between the two fleets, a group consisting of three smaller Protoss vessels were separated from the main force and forced to crash land here on Mar Sara, intelligence have since determined that the three vessels in question were shuttles or transports of some sort. Our mission is to secure the wreckage of these three ships, so that the R&D boys back home can examine the surviving technology in grater detail." The specialist explained.

This peaked Morham’s interest. At first he had thought that they were simply being sent to reinforce some distant military outpost, or perhaps calm some panicking civilians, but now he realized that they might even get go up against the Protoss themselves.

"I should add that we are expecting most of the Protoss, if not all of them, to be dead from the crash itself, but if there are survivors I want you all to be prepared for combat. If their ground forces are anything like their navy, we will be in for one hell of a fight."

"And what might your part in this mission be, Sir?" Private Sanders asked.

The question was a moot one of course, since the marines had all pretty much guessed what Fitch’s role in all this would be. He was a ghost, a highly skilled assassin and infiltrator. Some rumors even suggested his kind had telepathic abilities, though that seemed a little too fantastic to be true to Morham. The Confederates no doubt wanted someone they knew they could trust on this mission, and who more loyal then someone trained to obey since birth?

Fitch’s eyes narrowed dangerously on the marine that had asked the question. "My part in this mission is exactly the same as yours, to look for surviving Protoss and eliminate them if the need arises." He said and turned around to go back to the cockpit.

Just as cold as all the other ghosts he had met before, Morham thought.

"We will be touching down a few klicks from the crash site, but I want all of you on high alert the second we exit this transport. Now get your gear ready and prepare for combat, the drop will be made in a few minutes." Sergeant Coldwell said and turned to join Fitch back in the cockpit. The door slid shut behind the pair, leaving a very quiet pack of marines behind.

"Wow! We're actually going up against the Protoss! Do you realize that we will be the first ones to engage them in ground combat? Or even the first ones to actually see what they look like, even if they are already dead when we arrive" One of the marines finally said excitedly.

“I wonder if they will be the short gray type people always claim to have shown up in their backyard.” Another asked.

“Now there’s a freaky thought.” Sanders chimed in.

"I just hope there are still a few of them alive after the crash. That way we get to be the ones to kill ‘em." The one who had spoken up first chuckled, eager too engage the mysterious enemy and deal them the retribution they so rightly deserved.

But Morham knew better then to hope for survivors, if the Protoss fleet had been able to destroy dozens of their ships in a matter of minutes, then their soldiers would no doubt be able to do the same thing to their ragtag squad. "Good thing you took that flask with you Anderson, I have a feeling staying sane during this mission is going to be hard." Morham mumbled to himself.

* * * *

The lights that a minute ago had bathed the drop area of the ship in a green hue changed to red, signaling that the marines were to prepare themselves for embark. They unfastened the belts that had been securing them and stood up, grabbing a hold of a railing just above their heads.

The modern day dropships, in difference to the old ones, didn’t land to allow the marines to embark. No, that would take to long and would jeopardize the dropships themselves in the process. Instead the dropships now had two huge doors in the middle of the drop room, separating the two rows of seats that the marines had been sitting in just moments ago. When the ship was ready to make the drop, two of its four engines would rotate, so that the engine wash was directed downwards, allowing the ship to remain stationary for just a few seconds. During this time the doors would open, allowing the marines to jump through them, their suits protecting them from any injury as they landed on the ground a dozen meters below them.

The engine wash of course provided the marines with one more advantage on planets like Mar Sara. It covered their drop area in a cloud of sand and dust, shielding them from any hostiles that might want to target them when they first exited the craft.

“Alright boys, it’s nearly time.” The Sergeant said as he stepped back into the drop area from the cockpit. The Ghost was with him again, this time wearing that all too familiar black stealthsuit they were so fond of.

The two took up stations beside the marines, waiting for the drop doors to open. They didn’t have to wait long either, as the room was filled with the hiss of the opening doors a few seconds later, the bright light from the outside nearly blinding the men in the process. Their helmets automatically adjusted to the bright light, dimming the visors and allowing the marines perfect vision once again.

The first one to disembark was Private Sanders, jumping out into the swirling chaos of dust and sand below them. He quickly proceeded to check the area for any hostiles, using his close range sensor systems that were built into his suit.

His sensors showed no contacts so the all-clear was given to the rest of his squad, who dropped from the hatch in quick succession, with the Sergeant and the Ghost being the last two to exit the craft.

The men formed a circular perimeter, with a generous amount of space between each of the soldiers, so as to minimize the damage, should they come under attack and area effect weapons would be deployed against them. This was merely a precaution as the sensors already told them they were alone out there.

“Alright boys, I’m heading out so you’re on your own from now on, call me when the crash site has been secured.” The pilot in the dropship said, and then broke to speed off away from the marines.

Once the dust and sand had settled enough for the marines to visually confirm they were in-fact alone, they could ease up a bit.

Morham took a look around the area they had been dropped off at. There were sharp ridges shooting up on all sides around them, with only a single route leading out of the shielded area. The route looked like a miniature canyon as the ridges continued on, on both its sides. It would provide the marines further cover once they started moving towards the wreckage.

"The target area is just a few clicks east of here. If we follow the canyon here it should lead us straight to the crash site." The Sergeant finally said when he was certain they were alone. “We’re going to proceed towards it in a single file, loosely spaced. I want everyone on their toes, the Protoss, if there were survivors, may very well have taken up stations on the ridges to the sides.”

"As for you Specialist,” He turned to the Ghost. “You climb the ridge there and provide cover for us. The altitude should give you a great vantage point for sniping and scouting. Contact us the second you see anything suspicious."

Sergeant Coldwell took point and soon the men were proceeding through the canyon as fast as they could, without making too much of a ruckus in the process. Each and every one of them continually scanned their surroundings for any signs of hostiles, both visually and with the built in sensors. But the land was as dead as can be, apart from the occasional plant there was nothing but sand, dirt and rock in every direction.

Anderson took this little stroll through the countryside as a good thing, and thought it quite nice. So nice in fact that he started whistling a happy old tune to himself, he had his comms switched off of course, so that no one else could hear him.

Morham on the other hand, took the advance very seriously, and checked his short range scanners continuously. He just couldn’t shake the feeling that something was very wrong.

"Contact!" Screamed one of the marines, a scream that was closely followed by the dull ‘thwumps’ his gauss rifle made as he let loose a burst from it.

The rest of the squad got down on their knees and targeted the area the marine was shooting at, joining in on spraying the area with fire. The needles peppered whatever he was shooting at, throwing the dust from the ground into the air making it impossible to see what it was he was targeting.

"Hold your fire!" The Sergeant shouted, putting his hand on one of the marine’s rifles, lowering it to the ground. A few moments later they were all completely silent, staring at the area they had just fired at.

"But I saw something moving out there, I'm sure of it!" The marine who had opened fire protested, wanting to reopen fire until he was sure nothing could have survived.

"I know you did son, I saw it too." The Sergeant said, leaving the marine with a perplexed look on his face, and walked over to the spot the marine had fired at. There was still too much dust in the air to see what exactly he had been shooting at but it all became much more clear when the Sarge hoisted a dead rhynadon, or what was left of it, into the air, holding it out for the men to see.

"And just to inform everyone else, what you see here is NOT a Protoss warrior, it is in fact nothing but a six legged mammal called a Rhynadon, they’re quite known in these parts for their exquisite meat, but even so I would suggest you hold your fire next time until you see the real thing!" He said with an irritated voice. In his mind he knew that any surprise they were hoping to have once they reached the crash site was gone now.

The column of marines got on with their advance, Coldwell taking point once more. And after a while they reached their destination, clearing the canyon that had led them there. They could see the first crashed vessel some distance away with the two others even further from that, smoke was still rising from their superheated and charred hulls.

“Must’ve been some landing.” Anderson said.

“Yeah, I don’t think anything could’ve survived that.” Another marine replied.

“Shut up and take up tactical positions!” The Sergeant demanded.

The marines crouched down at the lip of the long and narrow crater that had been created when the vessel first slammed into the ground. It was about twenty meters wide and many times that in length. They spread out and lay down, keeping some distance from each other to increase their chance of avoiding detection. They checked the debris for any signs of life but none was visible.

On the ridge to their left, Fitch was doing the same thing, combing through the area with his sniper scope, trying to find some evidence of something still alive down there. But the smoke and debris clouded most parts of the ship from his sights. The most troubling aspect of it all was that he could see no bodies, no dead Protoss whatsoever.

“Why the hell are we crawling around in the dirt for? Nothing could have survived that crash.” One of the marines said, voicing what everybody else was thinking and what had already been stated. Morham was still not quite convinced though.

“Well now, that’s just a damn shame now isn’t it?” The voice of Private Sanders could be heard. “I was looking forward to personally thanking a few of the Protoss for what they did at Chau Sara.” He laughed with a few others of the marines joining in on his mirth. It seemed as if much of the tension that had been built up during the march had now been relieved.

“Well in that case, Private Sanders won’t have anything against taking a closer look at that wreckage, now will he?” Sergeant Coldwells voice crackled through the comm systems, a statement that promptly ended the laughs. “Oh don’t worry, the rest of us will cover you from up here.” He added. Apparently Morham wasn’t the only one not completely satisfied with the idea that the area was clear.

Sanders didn’t doubt his own assessment of the situation, but he was still a little nervous about getting closer to the wreck, what if there were automated turrets or mines there, what if something suddenly blew up in his face.

“Well, what are you waiting for? Get down there and report back when you’ve cleared the area.” The Sergeant insisted.

“Yes, sir!” Sanders replied grumpily.

The marine got up from his position and walked over to the edge of the crater, looking for the easiest way down. One of the marines thought he saw something shimmer in the sunlight some distance away but by the time he realized what it was, it was already too late.

“Get down!” He screamed, trying to get Sanders to take cover, just as a bolt of what looked like pure blue energy crashed into him. The blast blew Sanders left shoulder and a big chunk of his torso to pieces, separating his arm from his body and sending his dead body flying to the ground.

The marine who had first spotted the danger looked back at Sander’s broken body, where it lay a few meters from him, shocked to his very core by the gory sight. He could hear the other marines shouting out frenzied commands and opening fire all around him, but he himself could not move, unlike Morham he had never seen real combat before, much less a dead friend.

None of them had seen exactly where the shot had originated from and they all knew they were probably hitting nothing but dirt, but still they held the trigger. A few of them even launched grenades but all the good that did them was shower the entire area in dust and smoke, giving the Protoss perfect cover.

"Hold your fire! Hold your goddamn fire!" The Sergeant screamed over and over again over the comm and after a while the fire finally died down. "We need to find the hostile before we start shooting otherwise we'll just end up hitting nothing!" He shouted.

The others realized their mistake and turned back to the crater, but this time all they did was wait and watch for a clear target to present itself. Morham could feel the cold sweat running down his face and he could hear his heavy almost panicked breathing. He knew something like this would happen.

And it was still far from over.

There! What was that? For a split second Morham thought he saw something, a shadow perhaps, moving behind the veil of dust and smoke, and it was coming towards them. He searched for the shadow again but he could see nothing, nothing but clouds of sand.

Then he heard a shout from one of the marines situated far to his left. He turned towards him and saw a bipedal creature exiting the dust cloud at a running pace, climbing up the wall of the crater so quickly, it almost seemed as if it wasn’t even there. It had to be at least a head taller then the marine it was heading for, even with his suit on. And it was clad in golden armor with twin blades jutting out from its arms, but the blades were not made from any tangible material, they were made from what seemed like pure energy.

The three marines closest to the enemy got up to their knees and started firing at the advancing monstrosity. But the spikes never connected with it, an energy field of some sort shimmered into existence just before they were about to impact, harmlessly repelling them. And before they knew it, the warrior was at arms length from the marine he had been running for. With a few swift moves of his blades, the Protoss warrior had cut the marine down, the comm filling with the screams of the dying marine and then the sound abruptly changed to a gurgling noise as his lungs were filled with his own blood.

The Protoss turned to head for the marine next in line, but now the field surrounding him had started to buckle from the continuous fire the other marines were dishing out, and soon it failed. But not before it managed to get one of it’s blades through the visor of yet another marine, killing him instantly. Without the shielding the warrior was torn apart even as his bladed arm was still lodged in the dead marines head, body parts and blue blood flew from the warrior, leaving nothing but a crumpled heap of guts and gore on the ground after a few more seconds of fire. And a severed arm still sticking out of the dead marines visor.

Then another shout was heard, this time from the marine to Morhams right, it was private Anderson. Morham got up and aimed his rifle at the Protoss running for his friend. This was also the one who had killed Sanders he realized, when he saw the rifle strapped to its back. The two marines let out burst after burst of fire but the enemy didn't so much a flinch, much less slow his inhuman advance towards Anderson, and soon he was upon him.

Anderson gave one final scream and tried to press the trigger as hard as he could. But his finger and the rifle were no longer connected to the rest of his body he noticed. Anderson looked down in horror at his severed arm lying on the ground, still holding the rifle. Cut clean from his body by one swipe from the enemy’s energy blades. Then he looked back at the warrior.

The last thing Private Anderson would ever see was another energy blade, this one swiping across, cutting his head from his body.

Morham watched in horror as his headless friend fell limp to the ground, the severed parts of his head landing a few meters away. He was in a state of full panic now and all he could do was hold down the trigger on his rifle and scream as hard as he could. He hoped the Protoss shielding would fail before it reached him, but he knew that was wishful thinking.

But unexpectedly the warrior didn’t turn towards Morham. Instead it headed the other way, towards an advancing Sergeant Coldwell. The warrior stopped dead in its tracks though when Coldwell fired both his wrist mounted flamethrowers and bathed the fiend with superheated plasma. The shield around the Protoss glimmered brightly for a few seconds and then gave way under the continuous strain. Without the protection provided by the shield the warrior was burned alive, his armor melting into nothing more then slag and fusing with his charred skin until nothing remained but a molten heap of metal and skin blended together in a steaming pile of filth.

A scream turned both Morham and the sergeant to their left again, a third enemy had emerged from the clouds. But this one didn’t come running at them like the others had. In fact it didn’t even look like the two others Morham noticed, instead of the golden armor and twin blades the others had this one sported a long, flowing robe and it carried no visible weapons at all.

But when the only remaining marine, except for himself and Coldwell, fell dead to the ground, Morham knew he had been wrong when he had thought it unarmed. The Sergeant leaped out in front of Morham and ran towards the new enemy, thinking he could close the distance fast enough too engage it with his flamethrowers. But the Sergeant was still a long way from the enemy when he suddenly stopped and screamed so loud that Morham had to silence his comm. Coldwell was clutching the headpiece of his armor with his hands, but Morham could se no weapon used against him or any wound that would explain what was happening. He looked back to the Protoss and saw that it held its hand out towards the Sergeant, as if it was reaching for him from afar, trying to grab him. Morham lifted his rifle to his shoulder and fired at the strange warrior, but the all too familiar blue shielding intercepted his needles once more. The sound of accelerated spikes soon changed to that of an empty clicking sound, he was out of ammo, unable to attack the creature and left nearly defenseless.

The Sergeant gave one final scream and then his visor exploded outwards. He fell to the ground and blood flowed from the hole in his helmet. On the inside, Morham could see that there was nothing more then a gory mess of brain and pieces flesh left where his head should have been. His head had exploded, but how? Morham didn't know what to think anymore, his entire squad had been taken down by only three of the Protoss, and now he was out of ammo, with the most dangerous one of them slowly approaching him.

"Well fuck you and your whole piece of shit species then!" He screamed and held his rifle out in front of him like a club, intent on dishing out some damage before he himself was killed. He got in one swing at the fiend but it parried it and smacked him to the ground, all too easily. He thought he was going to die right then and there but then he saw something shimmer behind the Protoss. A trick of his eyes, a mirage? He heard a dull thud and then the Protoss fell to the ground, landing just in front of Morhams feet.

"Now that’s what I call battle!" He heard a voice say but couldn’t discern where it came from, it was as if it had come from thin air. If he had stayed conscious for a few more seconds he would have understood why, as Fitch the Ghost disabled his cloak and reappeared, standing over the unconscious Protoss with a triumphant grin stretched across his face.

* * * *

Several hours had passed since the firefight when Morham finally woke from his unconsciousness. It took a while for him to remember exactly where he was and what he was doing there, but slowly it was all coming back to him. He arched his back up and supported himself on his elbow, lifting the other hand up in front of his eyes to shield him from the bright sunlight.

He could see the silhouettes of people all around him. They were milling about, examining things and carrying various objects that looked much like pieces from the Protoss wreckage to and fro. The dropship that had brought him and his squad on the mission was also there, along with maybe six other ships that looked like cargo haulers and military transports.

“Glad to see your awake and well again.” Morham heard a voice say.

“Wha… What happened?” He stammered, not fully remembering all the details of the mission yet. “The mission… I thought I was going to die.” he continued trying to sort out all his feelings and thoughts. But the overpowering memory of the advancing Protoss dominated everything else.

“And indeed you would have if I hadn’t been there to save your ass.” The voice said again. And this time Morham recognized it. That cold and icy voice could belong to no one else but Fitch. Memories of his squad dying all around him filled his thoughts and a cold realization that Fitch had never joined the fray to help followed closely. Not until only one of the damn Protoss was left and his squad was eliminated.

Morham forced himself to his feet and turned towards the Ghost. He was smiling, that bastard was smiling although Morham had just been forced to watch his squad and his friends ripped apart by their enemies. Without another thought Morham moved to strike the bastard, but he was still too groggy and Fitch sidestepped his fist easily.

“Is that the proper way to thank the one that saved your life?” Fitch asked with an angry voice.

“Saved me?” Morham echoed incredulously. “Saved me?! You let my entire squad be slaughtered without so much as lifting a goddamn finger to help and then you want me to thank you for saving me!?” the anger shook Morham from his grogginess and this time his punch connected. Fitch stumbled to the ground, his eyes flaring menacingly.

“You don’t seem to get it, do you?” Fitch spat. “I wasn’t sent to protect you or your pitiful little squad of rednecks from the Protoss. The Confederacy couldn’t care less about your lives. I had a different set of instructions, namely to capture a live Protoss for later interrogation, your squad was merely sent to distract them while I did this. So be glad I decided to act when I did, I could have let you die and trust me, you wouldn’t have been missed.” he concluded and got up again. “Besides, even if I wanted to help you I couldn’t have, not after some moron thought it appropriate to cover the entire area in dust. From where I was I couldn’t see you or the Protoss.”

Morham wanted to hit Fitch again. But he knew it would be pointless, what the Ghost said was true, especially the last part about the dust. His feelings of anger gave way to that of helplessness. Things were what they were and there was nothing he could do about it anymore.

“And now that you’ve settled down, I’ve got new orders for you.” Fitch said once he realized that Morham wasn’t going to try to hit him anymore.

“What?” Morham asked with a resigned voice, no longer able or willing to argue. Fitch was a little angered at the apparent lack of respect for a superior officer but decided to let it go.

“We are to escort the captured Protoss to a rendezvous point with the Confederate fleet, and from there they will take over.”

Morham was a little surprised at himself for not actually being angered by the thought of transporting one of the Protoss that had been responsible for decimating his team. Objectively he realized that in the end he was probably no different from Morham, he was just doing his job and in the end he had been the one to actually loose. The Protoss had also seen his entire squad killed by the Terrans. Hell, he had probably lost a lot more friends then Morham. And that thought comforted the marine a little. “Fine, show me the way and let’s be gone from this blasted place.”

* * * *

A few hours later Morham was sitting in the exact same seat he had been sitting in when he was on his way to the mission site. Only this time, his friends had been replaced by an unconscious Protoss warrior and a Ghost.

“You sure he ain’t getting free?” Morham asked and pointed to the shackles binding the Protoss ankles and hands.

“Quite, he’s been pumped full of tranquilizers and should be out for at least a few days.” Fitch said. “And even if he managed to sober up somehow, those shackles would stop him from doing much harm.” he added.

“Good, cause it would be a shame if I had to kill the bastard if he tried to escape.” Morham said and gritted his teeth.

Fitch laughed at that remark. “You? You think you could kill him?” He asked, looking directly at Morham with an incredulous expression on his face, his eyes fixing Morhams, never blinking.

Morham said nothing, just stared back at Fitch. “This is no ordinary Protoss warrior we have here,” Fitch said. “Do you honestly think you could defeat him after you saw what he did to Coldwell? He doesn’t need weapons to kill, all he has to do is use his psionic abilities to fry your brain. That’s what he did to the others in your team.” Fitch explained.

“Didn’t you just say those shackles would keep him from doing any harm?” Morham asked.

“Well yes, it would keep him from doing any harm to me, you see as a ghost I’m able to shield myself from his abilities to a degree, enough for me to incapacitate him with my more conventional weapons anyway. You on the other hand, you’re screwed if he decides to take a shot at you.” Fitch laughed. Morham wasn’t amused, but he knew what Fitch had just told him was true so he decided to drop the issue.

A few minutes spent in silence passed. Morham’s eyes never left the unconscious Protoss. It was the only other form of life known to have an intelligence, at least as great as humans, and yet it looked so very odd. It was roughly humanoid in form, it had two arms, two legs, a head and a torso. Although the legs were reverse jointed, like a goat’s, and the torso and the limbs looked quite frail. But frail was far from what this creature was Morham thought, as he remembered how easily it had swatted him aside, even with his armor on. How do they communicate? Morham wondered. He could see no mouth and yet he knew they had to have some form of communicational abilities. Telepathy? He speculated, it would certainly fit considering what Fitch had told him about its mental powers.

He was shaken from his thoughts when the comm system crackled to life. “You boys better strap yourselves in,” the pilot said with a slight worry noticeable in his voice. “My scanners are picking up some weird readings all around us and I don’t think I can avoid-”

Morham never heard the end of that sentence as the entire ship rocked violently and threw his head into the wall beside him, knocking him unconscious in the process. Fitch suffered a similar fate, but the pilot wasn’t so lucky. The turbulence cracked the cockpit of the dropship open like an eggshell, sucking the pilot out into space as it did. The pilot tried to scream in denial, but no sound was heard, and suddenly the cold and empty space around him made itself terribly obvious. Dying in the vacuum of space had never been a pleasant notion, but the thought of it didn’t quite compare to the actual thing.

Pretty good, pretty good. Looking forward to seeing the crossover coming out in this story.

Don't be afraid to break up speech into new paragraphs-it makes things a lot easier.

Chapter 2: The Anomaly (v2.0)

In an entirely different part of the universe, an entirely different reality even, separated from the Koprulu sector not only by space and time, but dimension, a starship could be seen speeding through the empty void of space. The stars surrounding it looked more like thin strands of multi colored light then the usual white dots people are used to see when they look up at the night sky, the reason of course being that the ship in question was travelling at speed far beyond that of light.

Some people would recognise this ship as a Sovereign-class starship, one of the newest models to be produced by the United Federation of Planets. Others still might recognise it as the Enterprise, one of the most decorated ships in all of Starfleet, and indeed its very flagship. The crew and its Captain, Jean-Luc Picard, had been apart of many strange stories heard throughout this quadrant of space, and their heroics hadn’t gone unnoticed by anyone with even the smallest sense of adventure.

But in sharp contrast to the silence of the empty void outside the ship, the inside, more specifically the mess hall, was ablaze with laughter and sound, as the crew of the ship welcomed back a very old friend.

Lt. Commander Worf had rejoined his old crew once more for a diplomatic mission to Q’onoS, the Klingon homeworld. Starfleet hoped that his presence among the delegation might be looked upon favourably by the Klingons, since he in part had been responsible for the exposing of the changeling posing as Martok not too long ago.

And in truth, Picard had asked Worf to accompany them for personal reasons as well. Worf had been sorely missed by the crew since his reassignment to Deep Space Nine, and Picard thought that his short visit on board the Enterprise might be a boost to the otherwise sore morale, what with the threat of war with the Dominion hanging over their heads.

Worf, who had always been one to avoid gatherings like these as best he could, was standing alone in the crowded room, with a half empty champagne glass in his hand, hoping that the spectacle would be over soon and that he could resume his duties.

All around him he could see people chatting, laughing and generally having a very good time. But Worf much preferred his solitude from the constant gossiping and talking the humans so enjoyed. His eyes fixed a foursome that was nearly bending over with laughter, a disapproving scowl on his face. The large man drained the tiny looking glass in his hand with one swift motion and put it down on a table near him.

“Looks like you could use another one.” He heard the familiar voice of Deanna Troi say behind him. He turned around and found her standing there with another glass stretched out towards him.

“I suppose it could help me get my mind off this... gathering.” He said and accepted the glass. Troi had to suppress a small chuckle, it didn’t take an empath to see that Worf was clearly annoyed. The Klingon hadn’t changed a bit.

“I hear you received command of your own ship, the Defiant, right?” Deanna asked, trying to switch the topic to something that might be more to Worf’s liking. Apparently it worked too, as his expression brightened up instantly.

“Indeed,” Worf said with a hint of pride in his voice. “Captain Sisko thought it fit to leave me in charge of the ship, he himself has his hand full with the station, so it was quite understandable.”

“And what are your thoughts on the meeting on Q’onoS? Do you think we will be received well?” Troi continued asking. This time more for her own benefit then anyone else’s. How they would be received by the Klingons was anyone’s guess, and Deanna always liked to know a little about the situations they were getting themselves into beforehand.

“That, I’m afraid I cannot say. It is very difficult to predict how the Klingon High Council will react to something like this. On one hand, they know they need the help of Starfleet if both our governments are to survive, this much they already admitted to Captain Sisko, but as you undoubtedly know, their pride very often get in the way of their reasoning. I wouldn’t be surprised if they suddenly thought they could take on the entire Dominion all by themselves and forfeit the alliance with Starfleet.” Worf said at length.

“Hello there, I’m not interrupting anything, am I?” Yet another familiar voice asked. This time the voice was that of Beverly Crusher, the ship’s chief medical officer.

“Oh no, not at all, we were just discussing the upcoming meeting on Q’onoS.” Troi explained.

“Ah, so are everyone else.” The Doctor smiled, having already been over the subject with a number of other people in the room. “Somehow I get the feeling that there will be a lot of bruises and broken bones that will have to be fixed before the meeting is over, and that’s if the meeting goes peacefully.”

The comment was meant as a joke, but all three of them realised that the truth probably wasn’t too far from that prediction. Klingon gatherings had a tendency to get a little on the rough side.

On the other side of the room, Jean-Luc Picard, Captain of the Enterprise, stood. He was looking out of one of the viewports, at the backdrop that was space. For some reason, seeing all those thousands of bright stars out there had a calming effect on him. His hand was rubbing his chin, a telltale sign that the Captain was deep in thought. No doubt he was just as happy as anyone else to be reunited with one of his old officers, if only for a short while. But bigger things now occupied his thoughts, namely the increasing hostilities between the Federation and the Dominion.

The latest report on the subject had reached him just before the Enterprise had set off from Earth, and the news was grim indeed. Most of the people in Starfleet HQ were already talking about the matter as if it wasn’t a question of if there would be war, but rather when it would be.

Picard, who still bore the mental scars from their last major clash with hostile aliens, the Borg, back during the Wolf 359 incident, had begun to feel a little too old for this sort of thing. He wished he could go back to the days when the Enterprise was on a mission to explore the unknown parts of this galaxy, instead of jumping between hotzones, trying to calm an increasingly volatile situation. And as if to punctuate his increasing weariness and age, he slid his hand over his bald head and fast receding hair line.

“Everything alright, Captain?” William Riker asked, managing to startle Picard somewhat by his sudden appearance. “You look like you’re a million lightyears away.” He added.

“Yes, everything is quite alright,” Picard replied. “It’s just that I can’t seem to stop thinking about the political situation we currently find ourselves in.”

“The political situation? You mean you’re thinking about the Dominion and their play for power again. It’s a tough situation, I’ll give you that. But there’s not much we can do from out here either, except maybe help keep the Klingons on our side.”

“I know, I know. But still. I’ve started to wonder if true peace can ever be achieved.” Picard started. And then in a slightly louder and more frustrated voice added “Every time we manage to avert a disaster or defeat an enemy a new one shows up, this one even stronger and far more deadly then the last. Is it going to go on like this forever?”

Riker really didn’t have an answer for that, in fact the very same thoughts had been plaguing him lately.

“Well, the way I see it, it all comes down to one simple question. If somehow you knew that peace could never truly be achieved, would it make you stop trying to attain it? Or would you still try to reach for it?” Riker asked.

Picard thought about the matter for a while, but both of them already knew the answer. “Yes, yes of course.” He said in a soft voice. “I don’t think I could live knowing that I haven’t tried my utmost to uphold the ideal of the Federation. Even if I knew it was all in vain.”

Riker, starting to feel a little depressed by the mood the Captain was showing, thought to divert his attention to something a little more pleasant. “Worf doesn’t seem to be particularly pleased by our little celebration.”

Picard laughed at that statement. “No indeed, I’m guessing his Klingon heart would rather be in the gamma quadrant right now, battling the Jem’Hadar and singing songs of bravery and glory.”

The old warrior was indeed still the same man the Captain had known all those years he served aboard the Enterprise, and this was as cheery a thought as he had ever had.

* * * *

He found himself walking down a corridor, the only thing keeping him from tripping in the darkness a dim green light vaguely outlining his surroundings. He tried to make out where it was coming from, but he could find no source, it was as if the light was simply there.

Tubes, wires and metal could be seen everywhere, the floor, the walls, even the ceiling. The whole scene had a very eerie and surrealistic tone to it, as if it wasn’t quite real, as if it was somehow wrong. The air was heavy to breathe and had a stale taste to it, the humidity making his skin sweaty and sticky.

He could see someone approaching then, the silhouette of a figure walking up the corridor in slow and methodical pace. He tried to call out to it, but no sound was forthcoming.

Why was there no sound?

The approaching figure was illuminated briefly as it walked past a faint light and horror gripped him then, as he realized what the figure was. It was a drone, a Borg drone. Large areas of its body and skin had been removed, torn from the remains of the person’s once biological self, and replaced by various cybernetic enhancements.

The seconds seemed to slow down as the drone approached ever closer. He tried to run away, to escape somehow, but he could do nothing, it was as if he was paralyzed. Instead he kept walking towards it, in that same methodical pace. But surprise took him as the drone walked right past him, as if it hadn’t even noticed him.

It was almost as if he was one of them, one of the Borg.

A horrible thought crossed his mind then and he somehow managed to force himself to look down, to look down at his arm. But it wasn’t there. Instead there was something else occupying that space now, something mechanical, something cybernetic.

He suddenly felt very naked and exposed, as if all his thoughts had just been made public, as if everything he was and stood for was put on display for everyone else to see. Fear gripped him and he tried to scream, but he couldn’t, his mouth would not obey his commands, and instead he just continued on his path down the corridor, obediently, as if he was only a passenger in his own body, with no control over what it did.

A voice rang out in his head, the voice of a million people talking as one, in perfect unison, the all too familiar voice of the Borg collective.

“Anomaly detected in spatial grid two-one-one-five. Parameters fitting a possible breach level event. Investigate with highest priority.” It said, and then suddenly everything went black.

The next thing Picard knew, he was sitting wide awake on the small bed in his ready room. His breathing was heavy and sweat trickled down his forehead.

He had been dreaming, it had all been a dream. He just sat there for a moment, staring at the floor, not daring to move a muscle, not daring to find out if the nightmare was truly over.

“No, it was just a dream, nothing more.” He whispered to himself, trying to regain some of his composure. “..Just a dream.”

But on some level he knew, he knew that what he had just experienced was not just a simple nightmare, but the thoughts and intentions of the Borg collective. One of the few remaining curses he still bore for having been assimilated into the collective once.

But what did it all mean? Breach level event? What was that?

Did it even matter to him?

The console on his desk beeped to life then, and slid out from its folded position inside the desk, startling the Captain in the process and bringing him back from his contemplations. He calmed himself and got up from the bed, walking over to the desk.

‘Incoming transmission from Starfleet HQ’, the screen read.

They’re in an awful hurry to hear how the meeting with the Klingons went, Picard thought to himself. The Enterprise had barely gotten on their way from Q’onoS and already someone at Starfleet wanted to know what happened.

“The least they could do is wait for me to finish my damned report on the matter.” Picard mumbled and sat down in his chair, making sure that he was in a presentable condition as he did.

He tapped the screen, accepting the incoming transmission. The display changed to that of a slightly aged man with gray hair and a very important looking uniform on him.

“Admiral, it’s good to see you again.” Picard said and put his best diplomatic smile on, trying hard not to show his dismay.

“Likewise Jean-Luc,” The figure on the screen replied. “How did the meeting with the Klingon delegates go?”

“As well as can be expected, there was a lot of bluster on their part, but some progress was made. I’ll have my full report on the matter sent to you as soon as possible.” Picard replied.

Indeed any sign of progress with the Klingons could be taken as a very good sign, or perhaps as a sign of the desperation in the situation.

“That’s good news Jean-Luc. However that’s not why I’ve contacted you.”

“Oh, then what is it?” Picard asked, already entertaining the idea that the Dominion had declared war on the Federation while he was on Q’onoS. And that the Admiral was just now informing him about it.

“Our long range sensors have detected an anomaly at the edge of Federation space, near your current location. It’s situated close to both the Klingon and Romulan borders, and this is why I’ve contacted you. It’s probably nothing but some of the scientists back here seem to think that it might be worth examining, and as you’re already in the area, I thought the Enterprise would like to do the honors.” The Admiral explained.

An anomaly? Picard thought to himself. Didn’t the Borg voice in the dream say something about an anomaly? He dismissed the notion of the two things being related immediately though, choosing rather to forget about the disturbing dream and focusing on what mattered in stead.

“I understand Admiral,” Picard acknowledged. “Although I have to say I’m a little surprised that you decided to use the Enterprise for a simple survey mission. Don’t you think the flagship of the Federation could be put to better use during a time like this?” He asked.

“To be frank, yes, I do think the flagship of the Federation has better uses. But I might have been understating it a little when I said that some of the scientist are excited about this anomaly, their positively exhilarated about it. So that’s why I’m sending you. I don’t want anything going wrong on this one Jean-Luc, and there’s no one I trust more then you and the Enterprise.”

“I see Admiral, I’ll do my best not to disappoint you then.” Picard replied with a sincere smile.

“Good, I’m transmitting everything we know about the anomaly right now. Report back to me as soon as you know anything.” He said, and the display changed to a message saying ‘transmission terminated’.

Picard leaned back in his chair, soaking up everything the Admiral had just told him.

“Well, it looks like the Enterprise has one final hurdle to jump before we can get back to Starfleet HQ.” He said to himself.

* * * *

A couple of hours later Picard found himself sitting in his ready room once again, going over the report the Admiral had transmitted to him for the third time.

His mission seemed straight forward enough, all he had to do was locate the anomaly in question and then perform a series of scans on it, to determine exactly what it was. It was more the location of the anomaly that bothered the Captain, as it was situated very close to both the Klingon and Romulan borders. If the two empires chose to, they could create quite a mess of the entire situation. A Federation ship near their borders performing in-detail scans could be misinterpreted quite easily, and that was not a very pleasant thought, since the whole thing was volatile enough already.

But worrying about those things was not why he was here, Picard reminded himself. The anomaly was the only thing his mind should be focused on right now. Besides, the sooner they completed this mission, the sooner they could leave this place.

Picard was just in the middle of the technical part of the report, the part explaining why it was so imperative to study this phenomenon. Apparently the chief scientist back at Starfleet HQ had gone haywire when he had first analysed the information coming back from their scans. Of course Picard didn’t understand most of the techno babble that was scribbled on his pad, but he thought he had gotten a somewhat firm grasp of the basics of it at least.

In short, the anomaly was getting the energy, which was quite substantial, from somewhere previously unknown to their current grasp of physics, and discerning the location or method the anomaly was getting its energy was top priority, as it could lead to whole new avenues of scientific research, and perhaps even give them an edge against the Dominion if the method could be used as a new power source.

But the last part was probably just wishful thinking on the scientist’s part, Picard realized.

The Captain was still deep in his own thoughts when he heard his commbadge chirp. “Picard here.” He said absently as he tapped the badge.

“Captain, we are coming up on the anomaly now.” He heard Commander Riker’s voice say over the comm.

“Acknowledged, I’ll be right there.” Picard replied. There was nothing more he could learn here, so he got up from behind his desk, straightened out his uniform, and strode out of his ready room.

“Report.” Came the order as soon as he stepped out onto the bridge.

“We have arrived at the coordinates Starfleet gave us and are standing by.” Lieutenant Hawk, the helmsman, replied.

“What’s the status on the anomaly, Data?” He asked and turned towards the gold skinned android, who had been given control over the more scientific parts of this endeavour, along with Lt. Geordi LaForge.

“The anomaly is currently in its dormant state but should reappear in a few minutes.” He replied.

Picard recalled the report saying something about the anomaly disappearing, only to reappear exactly thirty-seven minutes later in the exact same place. Curious, he thought, that a naturally occurring phenomenon would be so punctual and precise.

“Good, prepare to make a full spectrum scan of the anomaly once it reappears, I want to know everything there is to know about it. Geordi, assist Data.” The Captain said.

“Aye, Sir.” Data and Geordi acknowledged, taking up their appropriate stations.

Picard walked over and sat down in the Captains chair beside Commander Riker.

The entire ship came alive during these next few minutes, as crewmen ran back and forth, readying a wide assortment of equipment for the upcoming task. On the bridge, Data and Geordi were busy adjusting the scanners to narrow on the area the phenomenon was supposed to show up in, and recalibrating it to perform a complete analysis.

Then, precisely as predicted, the anomaly appeared. “Captain, I am reading an increase in gravimetric activity, centred on the location where the anomaly should appear.” Data said, swirling around in his chair to face Picard.

“On screen.” the Captain said, eager to finally see what all the fuss was about. The front of the bridge changed to a holographic display showing an area of empty space outside the ship.

At first, the area was silent and nothing could be seen, except the ever present backdrop of space. But then, slowly, lights could be seen shooting back and forth, like small strands of lightning in space. And then suddenly, the entire area exploded into a bright flash of light, forcing everyone on the bridge to cover their eyes.

The light subsided and the crew reopened their eyes, but now the area in front of them was no longer empty, as a giant sphere, that looked almost as if it was comprised of some kind of liquid, had appeared there. Colored lights were still clearly visible inside the bubble, and its surface was rippling, like the surface on water.

“Incredible!” Commander Riker said and got up from his chair, to get a better view of the magnificent display.

“Indeed, number one, it is beautiful.” Picard agreed.

The light from the stars around them reflected off the surface of the sphere, just like the sun would reflect off water, reacting with the glow from inside the sphere in a most fascinating way.

“But we’re not here to gape at it in awe, were here to determine what it is, what are you picking up on the sensors Geordi?”

LaForge had a confused look on his face, as he analysed the readings on his console. “Sir, some of these readings are way of the charts and others… well, they shouldn’t be possible at all. It’s as if that part of space is very different from normal space in terms of both physics and on the subatomic level.” Geordi said, still tapping his console to confirm the readings. “And it’s not even constant, it’s shifting back and forth as if it’s neither here or there.” He added.

“Is there anything we can do to make sense of it?” The Captain asked, this time directing the question towards Data.

“I suppose it could be possible to establish some sort of structure and cohesiveness to the phenomenon, by modifying the scanners to pick up subatomic patterns that are not related to that of normal space, and then try to anticipate the seemingly random changes.” Data said, looking to Geordi for confirmation of his theory.

“I guess it could work, but the computer and the scanners will be hard pressed to solve a puzzle of that magnitude. We are talking about solving the base structure of a piece of space not at all related to our own, in terms of laws of physics. It will take some time I’m afraid.”

The front of the bridge flashed in a bright light, forcing the crew to cover their eyes again. And when they looked out at the space in front of them again, it was empty. It was as if the bubble had never even been there.

“Then you better get started straight away, I don’t want to stay here a minute longer then I have to.”

* * * *

A week of intense scanning and study of the anomaly passed by, with little actual progress being made. The “bubble”, which it was now known as, remained the mystery it had been when the Enterprise first encountered it. Even the sight of it, that had at first been breathtakingly beautiful, was now as dull as the void of space itself to the crew. The good news in all this was that neither the Klingon Empire nor the Romulans had shown up during this time, although they definitely knew of the Enterprise’s close proximity by now, and were probably keeping a close watch on them.

Captain Picard had summoned all the senior members of the staff to the briefing room for a status report, in the hopes of reaching some sort of consensus on how they should proceed from here. On one hand they weren’t really making any progress, but Picard wasn’t all too willing to leave a mission unfinished either. So they would definitely not leave until every single possible trick they had at their disposal had been tried.

“Well, it seems as if everyone is present, so let’s get on with the meeting.” Picard said, regarding each and every one of the faces sitting at the long table. “Mr. LaForge, why don’t you and Data start by telling us what you have discovered of the anomaly so far?” He continued, and motioned to the two officers to speak up.

“To be honest sir, not much.” Geordi said with a resigned look on his face. He and Data had been working on the anomaly almost without pause for the entire week. And unlike his android counterpart, Geordi did get tired and frustrated at the fact that they had gotten nowhere in analysing it. “There are more questions unanswered now then there were when we first arrived. We have not been able to determine what is causing this phenomenon, or even where all the energy creating and sustaining it is coming from. It’s almost as if it’s completely detached from our own reality, and inside it, time and space seem to be in a constant state of flux, without any way to predict the changes or pattern.” He explained at length.

Picard considered Geordis statement for a moment while rubbing his chin and contemplating all the information on the subject. He knew that the lack of progress was not because of either Data or Geordi, indeed they were two of the most brilliant minds on the ship, if not the entire Federation. But something had to be done. “What about you Data? Do you have anything to add?” Picard asked.

“I agree with Geordi’s assessment of the situation sir. The anomaly is most peculiar and elusive, yet definitely worth further study. But there is no gain in the Enterprise staying here anymore, as we do not have the equipment to properly study this phenomenon.” Data concurred.

“So the question then becomes, how will we proceed from here.” Picard said, with a slightly disappointed look. He never did like leaving a mission unfinished.

“Captain if I may?” Counsellor Troi spoke up.

“Yes?” Picard prompted, hoping that she could shed some light on what to do.

“The moral of the crew has deteriorated severely over the past week. News of the brewing war with the dominion is continuing to come in, and the close proximity to both the Klingon and Romulan borders is not a helping either.” She explained.

“Indeed Captain,” Lt. Cmdr. Worf interrupted. “Security has had to break up a rising number of fights between crewmembers. Some have even had to be detained in the brig.”

“Then as first officer of this ship I have to recommend we return to Starfleet headquarters and deliver them all the data we currently possess on the matter, they’ll know what to do with it and how to proceed from there. Perhaps they’ll send a better equipped science vessel to continue the work we have started here.” Riker said.

“What Starfleet decides is not for us to speculate on, however if there really is nothing more we can do here then-“ The Captain started saying but was cut off by his comm badge. “Picard here.” He said and tapped it.

“Captain, you are needed on the bridge, we have a situation here.” A hurried voice said.

“I’m on my way. Everybody return to their posts, this meeting is over for now, I’ll give you further details on how to proceed once the current situation is resolved.”

Chapter 3: Strangers and Mysteries (v2.0)

“Report.” Picard demanded as soon as the turbolift doors slid open. Riker, Data, Troi and Worf followed him out in short order to take their stations, while Picard walked over to his chair and sat down.

“Sir, the last time the anomaly was active we detected a small variance within it that differed somewhat from the rest of the space inside the bubble, at that point it almost seemed like a tangible object, and when the bubble disappeared there was a ship at the point the bubble had previously occupied.” The Ensign that had manned the sensors when all this had happened explained.

“A ship?” Picard asked with a surprised look.

“Well our sensors picked up nothing except empty space before the anomaly, and when it was gone there the ship was.”

“On screen.” Picard said.

The front of the ship changed again to show an image of a strange looking vessel tumbling aimlessly through space. The front of the ship looked like it had been crushed and floating debris could be seen all around it.

“Sir, the vessel appears to have sustained heavy structural damage and there are power fluctuations throughout the ship’s power grid,” Worf said, interpreting all the information the sensors were relaying to his console. “I’m also reading three lifesigns aboard it, coming from a rear compartment that still seems largely intact.”

“Can you get a transporter lock on them?” Picard asked.

“There is some residual interference from the anomaly, but I believe I can compensate for it.” Worf replied.

“Good, beam the survivors directly to sickbay, and have a security detail meet me there.” Picard said and walked over to the turbo lift again.

“You have the bridge number one.”

* * * *

By the time Captain Picard got to the sickbay, Dr. Crusher and a medical team were already busy examining the survivors.

A compliment of four security officers armed with phaser pistols were also stationed there, standing against the far wall as to not interfere with the medical crews work. Picard had wanted them there just in case. Being on a broken transport and then suddenly appearing on an alien starship could be a little disgruntling, and it wouldn’t have been the first time the survivors put up a fight. But as it was, all three survivors were lying on the biobeds, out cold.

He noticed a pile of what looked like rifles and bulky spacesuits on the floor near the beds. Apparently the aliens had been thoroughly armed when they had been beamed over. A good thing they had been unconscious, as things could have gotten ugly if they had decided to panic and open fire on his crewmen.

But if the weapons and armor seemed odd to him, the survivors themselves seemed even stranger. Two of them were obviously human, that much could be plainly seen, but the one that Crusher was currently examining was clearly alien, of a race previously unencoutered none the less.

Its head, as well as the scaly grey skin, had similarities with the Jem’Hadar’s, even the head was similarly formed and shaped. It had no mouth and no ears though, at least none that the Captain could see, and the rest of the body was nothing like the Jem’Hadar’s. It was clad in some tattered rags and had chains around its ankles and hands, a prisoner Picard surmised. That would also explain why the two others had been so heavily armed, the ship they had come across was probably some sort of a prisoner transport.

“What’s their status?” Picard asked, his eyes still examining the strange alien.

“The two humans over there are just unconscious and only need little rest. I’ve given them some sedatives so they won’t wake up before their bodies have had the chance to heal properly.” Crusher started. “But this one has a physique quite unlike anything I have ever seen before, even among aliens, so it’s impossible to say for sure if it’s okay. But if I had to guess, I’d say it’s no worse off then the other two. I haven’t given it any sedatives though, as it already had a lot of them running through its system.” She continued, still scanning the alien for some clue as to its current state.

The Captain felt a bit perplexed at this point. Had the ship really somehow been transported there with the anomaly, like the sensor officers report seemed to indicate? And more importantly, why were two humans escorting a prisoner that was of a race previously unknown? Their ship had not been of a Starfleet design from what the Captain had seen, although there were plenty of freighters and civilian vessels out there that he hadn’t encountered before, so that could easily be explained. Still, everything about these three seemed odd and out of place.

“That’s good news doctor, inform me when they regain consciousness. I’ll leave the security detachment here until they do, just in case. Oh and I think it’s best if we store all their equipment and weapons somewhere else for now, I wouldn’t want them getting their hands on them once they woke up, especially the weapons.” He continued, looking down at the vicious looking rifles.

* * * *

Soon after the rescue of the two humans and the alien, rumors started spreading throughout the Enterprise. Where had these strange survivors come from and why were the two humans escorting a chained prisoner of previously unknown alien race? Were just a few of the eagerly discussed topics among the crew. One particularly strange rumor even insisted on the survivors being from another dimension or some such, and that that was the reason for them being so odd.

Data had been tasked with finding out more about the small ship the survivors had arrived in, and to try to discern where they had come from and anything else of interest. But what he found out was far from enlightening, rather the opposite. Everything from the on-board instruments to the engine seemed to be horribly outdated, almost as if the survivors hadn’t had access to some of the most basic technologies the Federation employed these days. But how could that be, since they were so obviously human?

Picard had contacted Starfleet HQ the moment he left the sickbay to inform them of what had happened, and to ask them how he should proceed. Starfleet decided that the best thing to do for now was to sit tight until their guests woke up. And when they knew more on how they had gotten there and who they were, they would decide on their next course of action.

And as it were it didn’t take long before Worf received a hurried transmission, telling him that one of the survivors was awake and that he was needed in the sickbay.

The first thing to cross his path once he entered the sickbay was a security officer lying on the floor. He had a bloody nose and was apparently unconscious. The other three officers that had been posted there were currently wrestling with the recently awoken survivor. Apparently he hadn’t taken kindly to waking up in a strange bed.

The officers did their best to restrain the giant, but they were having little luck. It now looked more like the survivor was restraining them instead of the opposite. Not especially surprising, Worf thought, as the strange human was nearly a head taller then them and much more muscular.

Beverly Crusher was there too, circling the group and shouting for them all to calm down. But as it was, that seemed to have little effect. She had a hypo-spray in her hand too, probably filled with some sort of a sedative, but she couldn’t get close enough to use it, as the survivor was continuously positioning one of the guards between him and her.

“I must insist that you let go of those men!” Worf roared and pulled out his phaser pistol, pointing it at the brute.

The survivor had no idea what Worf had just said of course, but the pistol pointed at him needed no explanation. He was a little unsure of it actually being a pistol though, as it looked more like a toy, or perhaps a remote control of some kind.

The feral man regarded the strange looking alien for a while, still holding the guards tightly against him. Worf was after all only the second alien he had ever seen, and the other aliens had proven themselves quite hostile, who was to say these weren’t also. But knowing that he really didn’t have a choice in the matter, as he could hardly fight himself through this entire place, whatever that place might be, he let go of the nearly strangled Starfleet officers. They backed away and held their distance, trying to catch their breath and massaging their throats, letting the situation calm down.

The door to the hallway slid open, and in walked a very grim looking Captain Picard, with Deanna Troi following him closely.

“Could someone please explain to me what is going on here?” He asked with a raised voice, eyeing the unconscious security officer on the floor.

“It would appear as if our guest here was a bit startled when he woke up, Sir.” Worf said, nodding towards the large man standing beside the biobeds.

“I see.” Picard said, his expression turning to a smile when he realizes the situation for what it is. “It’s a good thing I had their weapons removed then. Check on him, will you Beverly?” Picard said, meaning the guard lying on the floor with a bloody nose.

Picard stretched his arms out to his sides, as if to show the man he was unarmed and meant him no harm, then he slowly started walking towards the bewildered man. “We mean you no harm-” He started but was abruptly cut off by Beverly who was now busy treating the downed guard.

“I don’t think he can understand you Jean-Luc, he has no universal translator and he didn’t seem to react in any way when I tried to speak with him earlier.” She explained.

“Worf, can you adjust the computer so that it will automatically translate everything said in this room.” Picard asked, never once loosing eye contact with the survivor.

“Aye sir,” Worf said and moved over to a computer terminal and started tapping on it. “It will probably take some time for the ship to learn his language if it’s not in the computers database.” Worf reminded him.

“Then we’ll just have to try to get him to talk to us now wont we.” Picard said and smiled at the newly awoken guest again.

But it turned out that only a few short phrases were needed for the computer to extrapolate the language the stranger was using. As it turned out he was speaking English all along, or, more precisely, a very strange dialect of the language. Another mystery to add to the pot, Picard thought.

“My name is Jean-Luc Picard and I’m the Captain of the USS Enterprise, the ship you’re on right now.” He started. The guest looked him up and down, going over every word Picard had just said in his mind and scrutinizing the man’s physical appearance.

“The uniforms you’re all wearing, they’re not Confederate. And neither is this like any Confederate ship I’ve ever set foot on.” He finally said.

This puzzled the Captain a bit. “I’m sorry, but I have never heard of an organization known as the Confederacy before, unless you’re talking about the Breen Confederacy, and I very much doubt that you are, as they aren’t overly friendly towards outsiders. This ship is part of the United Federation of Planets, just like everyone onboard it. I might add that it’s usually considered polite to introduce yourself when you meet someone new, might I know who I’m speaking with?” Picard continued.

The guest stood still for a moment, wondering if he would be giving away anything important by doing that, but he finally came to the conclusion that it hardly mattered if they knew his name or not, so he responded. “Morham, my name is Chris Morham, a Marine in service of the Terran Confederacy, and I can’t say that I’ve ever heard of the Federation either.” He said at length.

“And as I’ve never heard of the Confederacy, it would seem that were both at an impasse here.” Picard said with a disarming smile.

Morham let himself relax a bit, as he no longer felt as threatened as before. Picard responded in kind by telling his security detail, along with Worf, to stand down.

“How exactly did I end up here?” The stranger asked, looking around the sickbay. It all seemed to smooth, too comfortable, compared to all the previous ships he had been on.

“We found your ship badly damaged and adrift in space. You yourselves were pretty badly injured so we brought you onboard to treat you.” The Captain explained, trying to sound as friendly as possible.

It all started coming back to Morham now. His mission, the captured Protoss warrior, and the strange anomaly that had rocked the ship shortly before he had blacked out. But he still had his doubts.

“Is he alright?” He asked, nodding towards the other human survivor.

“I’m fine, thanks for asking, and you really should be less suspicious of other people my dear Private. They’re telling you the truth you know.” The supposedly unconscious man replied.

Everyone’s eyes now shifted to regard that person and Crusher had to recheck some of the readings on the computer as they still reported the man as unconscious. “Oh and I’m Fitch by the way, now that were introducing ourselves and all.” He added with a stupid grin.

But he had barely finished that sentence before Deanna Troi interrupted “He has telepathic abilities, Captain!” Her alarmed voice said.

“Indeed I have,” Fitch replied, looking at the woman with a surprised look on his face. “I take it that you are too? No wait… not telepathic, not quite anyway.” He said and narrowed his eyes at the woman.

“I hope you can forgive my telepathic intrusion Captain, but it was the only way I could know for sure that you were telling the truth.” He explained, trying to return Picards disarming smile, but to the Captain it seemed more ominous then disarming.

“I suppose I can forgive you under the current circumstances.” Picard replied, deciding to give the survivors some leniency, this was after all a very strange situation for them.

“Good! And now that were done with the pleasantries I’d like to apologize for my friend here, he can be a bit simple at times, treating situations like an ape would. You know, smash and bash, that kind of thing.” He said, looking over at Morham with a sneer. Morham was still too confused to take any insult though.

“Yes well, if you don’t mind, I have a few questions for you, about where you came from and how you came to be here-” The Captain started but was quickly cut off by the doctor.

“That will have to wait, right now these men need to rest.”

“There is one thing that will have to be dealt with right now though.” Fitch said, stopping the Doctor in her tracks and nodding towards the Protoss, still lying on the third biobed.

“Yes, we gathered he was some sort of prisoner of yours.” Picard said. They had removed the shackles from it, deciding that it would be the best way to proceed, the Federation had no quarrel with him and first encounters usually didn’t involve one part being in chains.

“He is dangerous, very dangerous.” Fitch started. “And I can guarantee you that he will not be able to tell your crew apart from any other human, and since his grudge is against just that, humans, I’d advice you to keep him locked up.”

“I was afraid you might say that. The Federation doesn’t usually keep newly encountered species incarcerated, but I suppose it can’t be helped.” The Captain said solemnly. “Beverly, erect a forcefield around his bed and inform me when he wakes up. Try to keep him calm at all costs until I arrive. Oh and I’ll also leave the security detail here until he does, just in case.” Picard turned to leave the sickbay, but was confronted by the sight of his beaten and bruised officers standing at attention against the wall.

“Well, perhaps not this security detail.” He whispered to himself and resumed his march for the door. He had a million questions for the newly awakened guests but that would have to wait, doctors orders.

Fitch and Morham were equally puzzled, The United Federation of Planets, forcefields, space ships that were far to comfortable looking with people in pyjamas walking around in them, and a whole lot of other things were still unexplained. But just as Picard, they would have to wait and see what answers the future would bring them.

* * * *

A meeting for the senior staff, as well as the two human survivors, was held early the next day, after they had gotten the much needed rest the doctor had insisted on. The purpose of the gathering was of course for the crew of the Enterprise to learn more about their new guests. And as the guests themselves had seemed quite puzzled when Picard had first mentioned the Federation, he thought that the meeting might also provide them with some interesting insight into their current situation.

As strange as the notion sounded, this might actually be a first encounter situation with another independent human organization, previously unheard of, the Captain thought. The most popular theory among the crew was that they were from a long lost colony that had been isolated from the Federation and forced to evolve on its own.

All the senior officers were already seated at the long table in the briefing room, impatiently waiting for their guests to arrive, all except Doctor Crusher who was escorting the guests themselves. They had been so anxious to meet the survivors that they had all turned up early for the meeting, not wanting to miss even the tiniest detail of what was to ensue.

Picard gazed out trough the viewport to his right, at the stillness of the space beyond, and found that once again it calmed him a bit. He was tapping the table rhythmically with his fingers and his chin was burrowed deep in his hand.

Shortly before the meeting Data had actually found some evidence to support the theory about the anomaly being transportive in nature. Like a wormhole or the like, as he had explained it. This of course begged the question as to where these humans were actually from and how they could have remained undiscovered by the Federation for so long. Perhaps their home was even in some remote part of the Delta or Gamma quadrants, though how they would have gotten there was anybody’s guess, since their ship had seemed horribly outdated and not even warp capable.

Then, at last, the doors to the briefing room slid open and in stepped Doctor Crusher, closely followed by the two guests and two security guards, the latter two who promptly took up positions at the door. The Federation wasn’t usually this suspicious of their guests, and a meeting of this sort wouldn’t normally warrant such safety procedures, but the recent threat of war with the Dominion had changed a great deal in the UFP and their standing policies when dealing with strangers.

The eyes of the people sitting at the table immediately moved to follow the strange entourage, with Fitch and Morham, the two survivors, staring right back at them. There was that strange looking alien that had pointed a phaser at him, Morham thought, having spotted Worf. The rest of them seemed human enough though. One guy had some pretty ridiculous looking yellow make-up on him and an unnaturally stale look about him but that was probably just some strange fashion quirk these people had, that and the pyjamas’ they all wore.

The two guests seemed very different from each other. Morham was a huge man, with broad shoulders and a shaved head, the very epitome of a soldier. He did seem a little less animal and a little more man now that he was clothed and had a less bewildered look on his face though, Worf thought.

Fitch, in stark contrast to Morham, was a lot leaner and seemed a lot more controlled. His eyes told of a cold and calculating mind, an unsympathetic mentality that did what was required without the burden of either guilt or conscience. Troi didn’t need to see his eyes to know this though. She could feel it in him, and it scared her. Where there usually were some feelings floating around in a person at all times, Fitch had nothing, he was simply blank, like a whole in the space around him, cold and lifeless.

Captain Picard, who was seated at the head of the table, got up and welcomed the two of them with a firm handshake. There were two empty seats just next to him and so the Captain motioned the guests to take them. He then proceeded to introduce everyone at the table to each other. And when that was over and done with, it was time to get down to the real business.

The revelation that the gold skinned fellow was indeed an android was a little disturbing to Morham though. How very different these people were from them. He wasn’t completely unfamiliar with AI though, he had heard of the adjutant creations that were sometimes employed by the Confederacy and other powerful factions, artificial minds created to calculate strategies and help with the daily business of the higher ups. It was more the notion that Data was so lifelike and human in appearance that felt disturbing to him, and what’s more, he seemed to have a will of his own.

“There are so many things I would like to ask you, and so many issues we need to go over, that I frankly don’t quite know how to begin. So I guess the best thing would be to just get on with it.” Picard started, focusing on the two guests. “During our brief chat in the sickbay the other day, you didn’t seem to recognize the Federation when I mentioned it, a little odd since most humans belong to this faction, and even those that don’t call the Federation their own, know about it. So, as a sign of good faith, I thought that I would start by introducing our organization, and then we can take it from there.” He explained, putting on his best diplomatic charm.

“Suppose it couldn’t hurt.” Morham said, sitting back in his seat and crossing his arms in front of him.

Picard got up from his seat and walked over to a large display mounted on the wall. He tapped a few controls on it and the view changed from the insignia of the Federation to a starchart of the Alpha and parts of the Beta quadrant, with parts of the space highlighted in a blue color. It signified the territory that the Federation occupied the guests would later come to learn. The Captain started by telling the guests about the basic structure of government the Federation utilized and the anti-capitalistic philosophies that they were so proud of. Then he moved on to mentioning that the Federation was actually comprised of many different races and planets, all living as one. Eventually, he had covered all aspects of the topic and given a complete and detailed description of the organization he worked for.

Fitch and Morham were both a little stunned when they learned that the Federation spanned thousands of solar systems, and that they had a great deal of alien member worlds among them. Their own Confederacy was comprised of only a handful of solar systems and the only alien species they had stumbled upon so far were the Protoss. Not only that, but if the map on in the display was correct then the Koprulu sector would also have belonged to the Federation. Something was definitely not right here, and Fitch thought it prudent to point it out.

“Captain, if you don’t mind me interrupting,” He said, getting up from his seat.

Picard stopped in his tracks and looked at the man. “Yes?” He prompted.

“I just noticed something rather peculiar.” Fitch continued, and walked over to the display. “This sector of space right here,” He said, pointing to a small area of Federation space on the display. “Is it inhabited?”

The Captain pondered the question for a while. “Yes,” He finally said. The Enterprise had visited that region a while back during one of its assignments. “I believe there are a few Vulcan colonies in that area, why?”

“Vulcan?” Fitch asked with a cocked eyebrow.

“Ah, of course, I keep forgetting you don’t know this part of space as well as we do. The Vulcans were one of the species who originally founded the Federation.” Picard explained, he had to remind himself again that these men apparently knew nothing about their world.

“Well, I’m no expert on starcharts, but I believe this is where our home is, the Koprulu sector.” Fitch said.

“But, that’s impossible.” Picard replied. “We would have spotted your organisation a long time ago if that was the case.”

“Yes, I know.” Fitch agreed.

“Are you sure you aren’t mistaking?”

“Like I said, I’m no expert on starcharts. But yes, by the location of Earth and the way the galactic spirals are located I’m quite sure that is the location of the Koprulu sector. This nebula, right here,” Fitch said, pointing at a small purple cloud like spatial phenomenon. “Further confirms it.”

Data’s mind, who had continuously tried to solve the mystery of the anomaly and the strangers during these last few days suddenly clicked, the puzzle that had eluded him completed by a final missing piece. And it all came out of his mouth in the form of one single word

“Fascinating.”

“Do you have an explanation?” Picard asked, wondering whether Data’s obvious realization was a relevant one.

“Yes Captain, I believe I just solved the riddle of both the anomaly and our guests.” He stated flatly, drawing Geordis full attention as well.

“Well perhaps you would like to explain it to the rest of us as well.” Geordi said impatiently, he had been working on the anomaly, along side Data, without result for too long now, and if Data had a theory that might finally solve the mystery then he was anxious to hear it.

“Indeed, please elaborate.” Picard echoed.

“One of the key problems we had while analyzing the anomaly was determining where it gets the energy to start and maintain the reaction that lead to the phenomenon, but so far we have not discovered the source. But I think I just did. Simply put, it comes from another dimension.” Data explained. “This would also explain some of the fluctuations we have seen during the exact moment it appears and disappears.” He continued, looking up at the Captain.

Picard had heard all about different dimensional theories so the idea didn’t seem all that preposterous.

“This would also mean that our guests here could be from an alternate reality and not from an unknown part of space.” Data added.

“So, what your saying is that this ‘bubble’ is actually some kind of wormhole like anomaly, except it links two dimensions together rather then two points of space in one dimension?” Geordi asked, catching on to Data’s train of thought.

“Not so much a wormhole as a, well actually, a kind of transportation device. Everything caught inside it when it disappears will be transferred along with it to another reality.” Data said. “Though it is worth mentioning that the process is highly unstable, it might have been sheer luck that our guests got through it in one piece the first time.”

“I hope you’re not saying we’re stuck here for the rest of our lives.” Fitch said, a hint of anger creeping through his otherwise calm exterior.

Troi found it odd that the man could be visibly angered, yet she still felt no feelings emanating from him.

“It is impossible to tell before we run some more tests on the anomaly. We might find a way to utilize the bubble safely now that we know a little more about what it does and how it works, but nothing is certain.” Data explained.

“Good, I want you Data, and Geordi, to resume your work on the anomaly once this meeting is over.” Picard said. “But for now let’s get back to the reason we’re all gathered here in the first place, to learn more about each other.”

“Yes, I for one would be greatly interested in knowing more about your history. If indeed you are from an alternate reality, it seems that it’s in large part very similar to ours, but at some point it obviously branches off and takes another direction.” Riker said.

Morham had never been any good at history so the task of explaining it to the Feds fell to Fitch. Admittedly he himself was not all that well versed when it came to history either, but he knew the basics. The few things he remembered from the ancient history of Earth seemed to add up with the Federations view of history, all the way up to the late twentieth century. There things started to differ, first only minor things, and then progressively more and more things started falling out of place.

The eugenics wars had never existed in Morham’s and Fitch’s reality, and neither had the third world war, but they had had a similar occurrence. The more liberal views on genetic manipulation and cybernetic enhancements to the human body had led to a dramatic increase in ‘not quite so normal’ people in their society as well. It got to the point where normal people started fearing the mutated or enhanced ones, just like in the Captain’s world. So it was no surprise that when a world wide government called the UPL came to power it would quickly ban all further enhancements and genetic tampering on humans. There was one dramatic difference between the two Earth’s and how they dealt with the problem though. The UPL had not only banned future tampering, but it also ‘exterminated’ the ones that were already different in what could only be described as a global holocaust.

And in other regards Earth’s situation was far from good at this point, it was slowly being choked to death by the ever increasing population, and crime and disarray was running rampant all across the globe because of it. The leaders knew something had to be done, and so in the end it was an ambitious man named Routhe that came up with a solution.

Colonizing other starsystems was an idea that they had only recently started toying with and the dangers were quite evident, not to mention that the trips between starsystems still took a very long time with their primitive FTL drives. So Routhe suggested cryogenically freezing the prisoners that remained from the extermination and then launching them off towards another starsystem. They would then finish colonizing the planets there, so that everything was ready for the rest of the settlers when they arrived. The prisoners were after all, expendable. And if they died, it would be of no real consequence.

Routhe’s idea was soon carried out, and as result a number of large gargantuan class vessels were constructed and loaded up with as many prisoners as possible and launched into space. The trip was to last decades, but something went wrong during that time, and the ships never reached their new homes. Instead they continued their voyage through space until the ships reactors reached a critical state. As a result they crash landed on a number of planets in what would later be called the Koprulu sector.

When the prisoners awoke they found that they were a long way from their intended destination, and that their ships were beyond salvage after the crash. And this is how life in the Koprulu sector began.

Fitch went on by explaining how the Confederacy came to be and even of the planetary bombardment it had performed on Korhal to solidify its power years later.

Picard had to wince at that revelation, it seemed apparent that the humans in Morham’s and Fitch’s reality weren’t nearly as well off as the ones in his own, even with the Dominion on their doorstep. In fact, the humans in the Koprulu sector seemed much like the Federation’s earthbound ancestors, violent and deceptive.

“Are you telling me that atrocities like the one performed on Korhal never happen in this reality,” Fitch asked when he noticed the apparent astonishment the ship’s crew displayed. “Are there no wars, no conflicts, no nothing here?” He kept prodding.

“Of course there are, and there probably always will be.” Picard said with a slightly disappointed look on his face. “But humanity as species has grown beyond that. Wars are still common, but the Federation has never been the antagonist.” He explained.

“Captain, if I may.” Deanna interrupted.

“By all means.”

“It is widely believed that first contact with aliens, and the realization that we were not alone in the universe, was one of the key factors that contributed to the change in humanity’s behavior. Now, from what I understand, the people in the Koprulu sector and their version of Earth never experienced a first contact situation, up until very recently.”

“Ah, I see where you’re going with this. They never had that unifying moment because they still thought they were alone in the galaxy.”

“Precisely.”

“And speaking of wars and atrocities in our own reality, there’s actually a war on the horizon right now, with something called the Dominion.” Picard continued, wanting to clear things up with the Confederates. Things weren’t perfect on their side of the fence either.

“The Dominion?” Fitch asked.

“Yes, an organization with its eyes set on bringing harmony to the galaxy. A noble goal in itself, indeed something our Federation strives for as well, but it’s the method they employ that causes the problem, as conquering and enslaving their enemies seems to be their preferred technique of accomplishing this goal.”

“And then of course there’s the ever present danger of the Borg. A collective of cybernetic beings bent on perfecting life by integrating the biological with the technological. In other words they conquer people and then turn them all into half-man, half-machine like drones that have no will of their own and no personal freedom.”

“Well, all in all I think I’d prefer your problems to our own.” Morham chimed in. “A few days before our arrival here we got into a war with the only other sentient species we know of, the Protoss. They incinerated an entire planet and destroyed a large portion of our fleet in just a few days. Oh, and they massacred my entire squad on a retrieval mission, let’s not forget that. Who knows how much damage they’ve done by now. With any luck, humanity doesn’t even exist in our reality anymore, at least no in the Koprulu sector.”

Picard realized then that the alien they were transporting must be one of these aliens. And if they indeed were as brutal as these Confederates would have him believe, then it was a good thing that it was safely behind a forcefield.

A little later the meeting was adjourned, with everybody feeling a little bit more on top of things again. Picard sent a message to Starfleet HQ, appraising them of the situation and informing them that the Enterprise would remain where it was for a while longer and try to find a way to safely traverse the anomaly.

The guests of course were to be allowed full freedom on the ship until that. A curious decision by the Captain, Fitch thought. Had they been in Confederate space they would sooner have been locked up and interrogated for all the information they had, then set loose on one of their vessels.

Not too bad at all, I can't really tell that you're from Europe *curses American schools for not making multiple languages madatory* a few nitpicks though... Counselor Troy's should be spelled 'Troi' and any time the Data speaks you have to remember that he can't use contractions, instead of "I'm" use "I am' etc. Though I'm not to well versed in the Starcraft universe, I am intrigued. I am hoping however that when the folks from the SW universe show up it won't be the usual curb-stomp that it always seems to be. Which, by the way, what era of SW are you going to use?

ElPintoGrande wrote:Not too bad at all, I can't really tell that you're from Europe *curses American schools for not making multiple languages madatory* a few nitpicks though... Counselor Troy's should be spelled 'Troi' and any time the Data speaks you have to remember that he can't use contractions, instead of "I'm" use "I am' etc. Though I'm not to well versed in the Starcraft universe, I am intrigued. I am hoping however that when the folks from the SW universe show up it won't be the usual curb-stomp that it always seems to be. Which, by the way, what era of SW are you going to use?

First of all, thanks for the feedback. Since i haven't gotten all that much response yet i've been left a little in the dark as to what people think of it.

About the Troi and the Data thing, i'll correct those issues in the upcoming chapters. I'm actually having a little trouble writing the Enterprise parts since i've never seen TNG, only VOY, DS9 and the three newest movies. I've been trying to get the characters as correct as possible though, by rewatching the movies and looking at the character dynamics.

The SW verse will be set at roughly the same time EP3 starts. And yes i'm going to tune down the power of the SW verse a bit. It just wouldn't be interesting if the Enterprise was blown up by a single TL hit. Although the SWs are still going to be considerably more powerfull.

Chapter 4: A Ship Full of Wonders (v2.0)

He tried to remain as silent as possible, while making his way through the thick vegetation all around him. He knew that remaining even somewhat discrete in this jungle terrain would be a near impossible task, given the bulky armor he was wearing.

Rain trickled down on him, the drops making small splashing sounds as it hit the neosteel metal of his powerarmor. To Morham, even that noise seemed a bit too loud to his liking.

How marvelous this technology was, he thought, forgetting the game he was currently involved in, and deciding that worrying about the noise wouldn’t do him any good. Here he was, in an extremely realistic portrayal of a jungle, yet still on a starship deep in space.

The trees, the bushes and the plants were really nothing more then photons, held together by miniature forcefields, or so he had been told. If you looked upwards, you could even see the stars in the night’s sky, although there should be a ceiling there in the sky’s stead.

It had been Worf who had first told him about this ‘holodeck’, as they called it, and challenged him to a friendly contest. The goal of the game was simple, all Morham would have to do was to reach a designated point in the jungle, and capture a flag there, with Worf and a few of his men trying to stop him along the way.

The Klingon, as his species was called, had offered to give a few men to Morham, evening the two sides up a bit. But the marine thought it might be a lot more interesting to go at it alone. After all, he hadn’t been too impressed by the display the guards in sickbay had shown. Besides, the two sides probably utilized very different close combat tactics, most likely they would only get in each others way.

According to Worf, everything would be as realistic as the real thing, during this game, except of course that the shots fired wouldn’t really kill you. A good thing too, Morham thought. As Bertha, his rifle, would make short work of the unarmored feds if he ever got a clean shot on one of them. Why those guys chose to wear nothing but their customary pyjamas during a firefight was beyond him, although Worf had claimed that no amount of armor on your body could save you from a phaser blast on full settings. Morham had still decided to wear the suit though, as it provided more then just protection.

He checked the short range sensors that were built into his suit, not really expecting to come up with any contacts so soon in the game, but still, he wanted to be sure. This was after all his first engagement with the Feds, and he didn’t quite know what to expect from them.

Sure, they had their fancy technology, and even their ‘phasers’ as they called them. But even the dumbest soldier knows that the one doing the fighting is the man with the weapon and not the weapon itself. So it would be interesting for him to see how he fared against the likes of the Federation. He had the experience, they had the technology. Of course the men he was fighting weren’t real soldiers, but merely a security force aboard a starship, but still, they would have to be at least somewhat trained in the arts of war, if they were to have any hope of repelling a boarding party.

‘Blip’, a sound resonated through his speaker system. It was a sound made everytime a new sensor contact was made. The blip was accompanied by an ominous looking dot on his heads-up display, showing the exact location of said sensor contact, and boy was it close. Only a few meters in front of him, and yet, he couldn’t see anything through the thick darkness of the jungle. The vegetation was just too dense. He could have simply opened fire then and there, spraying the general area where the enemy was, and surely killed whoever was out there, but he chose not to. No, it would make too much noise and thus give away his position to the rest of the guards.

Taking down one enemy just didn’t cut it, if you knew the next one would be able to take you down as a result.

So instead, he started circling around to the side, hoping to avoid detection and somehow sneak up on the enemy so that he could knock him out cold, instead of actually opening fire. A question crossed his mind then; did this holodeck shield people from blunt force trauma, caused by other players, too? He shook away the question immediately though, as he thought the Feds could do with a little toughening up either way. A hit to the head wasn’t always a bad thing.

A short rush towards the target, aided by the mechanically augmented legs of his powerarmor, brought him up so close to the man that he could see the surprised look on his face, just before smacking the butt of his rifle in it.

Guess the safeguards didn’t protect him after all, Morham thought, as the Starfleet guard fell to the ground, unconscious.

He left the downed guard behind and continued on through the jungle, nearing his target with each step. He wasn’t far away now, he knew. But there were still two other guards, as well as their leader, Worf, out there somewhere.

Suddenly, a deft sound was heard, a sound like nothing Morham had never heard before. A fraction of a second later, a bright yellow bolt of energy flew past his head, nearly hitting him.

He threw himself to the ground, before he gave the matter any more thought, a good thing too, since the area where he had just stood was peppered by more of those energy discharges a second later. He lifted his massive rifle and pointed it in the general direction from where the shots were being fired from and pressed down on the trigger.

The sound of the electromagnetic coils in his rifle activating and deactivating in rapid succession was heard, with a host of needle sharp projectiles shooting out towards his enemy at supersonic speeds. The vegetation in front of him was ripped apart and the entire area he was firing at was bombarded in a torrent of devastating fire.

Another firm advantage of his weaponry, compared to the phaser rifles, was that it had a much higher rate of fire. A dozen of the projectiles might miss their mark, but that would be moot if even one of them hit. And as it was, one did.

Two down, two to go.

He didn’t have to wait long for the next one of his opponents to make himself apparent though, as another burst of energetic fire launched out towards him. One of these bolts actually managed to glance him, but the computer must have interpreted that as a wounding shot only, as he was still in the game. He rolled to the side and came up to a kneeling position a few meters from where he had just been.

He checked his sensors to see where his enemy was, but there was nothing out there according to them. The Feds must somehow have managed to blind his sensors. Probably with those ‘tricoder’ thingies or something he guessed. You had to give them some credit, they might not be the best fighters, but they were crafty.

He stayed as still as possible, knowing that the darkness would shield him from prying eyes well enough, but not from ears. The real mistake to do now would be to try and move around to gain a better position.

‘Crack’ he heard a twig break a short distance in front of, and to his left. The night sky was filled with the sound of Bertha bringing peace to yet another of the Feddies.

Three down, one to go.

Another sensor contact made itself apparent on his heads-up display now, but this one was not from an enemy, it was the flag he was supposed to capture.

He continued on with his trek again, making his way towards his goal slowly, taking the long way around, and not the more direct route, though he seriously doubted that anybody wouldn’t expect him to do just that.

After a while he came across the entrance to a small cave, the doorway barely large enough for him to fit through. There was obviously a fire in there as the dancing lights were clearly projected onto the rock walls. There were still no enemy contacts showing up on his HUD though, but by now he knew it would be useless to expect any. He decided to wait a while outside the cave, just to be sure the terrain was clear.

And then slowly, when he was content that the entrance was unguarded, he crept up to the opening and stepped through it. He made his way down the narrow corridor, his rifle pointing forward at all times, ready to unleash its fire at any given moment. If Worf decided to storm him in that narrow space, he would soon regret it.

He came around a bend, and could now see that the corridor opened up into a much larger cavern, some distance up ahead. A bonfire was blazing in the middle of that room, and a flag mounted on a pole stood nearby.

Damn! Morham thought. He knew Worf had to be in there, waiting for him, but there really was no way he could safely enter the room, he knew. He thought about it for a while, and finally decided that he would just have to rush in and hope to catch his one remaining enemy off guard by the sudden and bold move.

His muscles tightened, his mind focused, and then he exploded into action.

He ran as fast as he could, straight into the cavern, and as soon as he cleared the entryway he spun about, hoping to catch the Klingon, standing on either side of the opening, by surprise. But he was too slow.

Worf crashed into him with enough force to knock him over before he had even made half the turn. His rifle flew out of his hands and landed on the rock floor a few meters from him. Morham himself was now lying face down on the ground.

“I was hoping you would do that.” He heard the familiar voice of Worf say.

Morham was a little surprised that he hadn’t taken this opportunity to shoot him already, and so he slowly got up from the floor, and turned to face the Klingon.

“Not very sportsmanlike, to sit tight like that and wait for your opponent to make the first move. Were setting up a camp perhaps?” Morham chided.

“If I would have wanted to be unsportsmanlike, I would have shot you in the back while you lay on the ground.” Worf retorted.

“Yeah well, in any case, I was hoping you’d be a little slower.” Morham said and opened his visor. “So, what now?”

“We fight of course.” Worf replied.

Morham couldn’t see him holding any weapons though. “If you were thinking of taking me on unarmed, I’d advise against it. I’m much faster and stronger in this armor then a normal human. The fight would hardly be considered fair.”

“And that is what will make it so… Interesting.” Worf replied with a grin, that last word he had said with an almost feral voice.

Morham barely had time to notice when Worf suddenly leapt for him to punch him straight in the face. The marine staggered backwards, nearly falling over.

“Wow, that’s some punch you’re packing there.” He said with a groggy voice, trying to focus his foggy sight while wiping the blood from his face.

“I took the liberty of disabling the safety protocols for hand to hand combat, it wouldn’t be challenging enough if we couldn’t feel each others hits, don’t you agree?” Worf asked, circling the still wobbly Morham.

“Yeah, I kinda noticed that earlier, when I smacked one of your men with my rifle.” He started explaining but was interrupted when Worf came at him again. This time however, Morham was ready, and was able to sidestep the punch.

The marine ceased this opportunity to grab hold of the Klingon, and a wrestling match ensued. Worf nearly matched Morham’s strength, even with the powerarmor. But due to The Klingon’s superior close quarters fighting skills, Morham was soon lying flat on his back again, staring at the ceiling.

All you had to do during a wrestling match was turn your opponent’s strength against him. Morham had heard about this before, but he didn’t know you were supposed to take it so literally.

“You’re a worthy opponent Private Morham. But if you ever hope to be a true warrior, I suggest you brush up on your hand to hand fighting.” Worf commented.

And just when the hell am I gonna start fighting my enemies hand to hand, Morham thought, but decided not to say it out loud. As his head was still dizzy, and would be hurting for days to come. He didn’t want to make it worse by angering the Klingon further.

* * * *

“May I join you?” Deanna heard a voice ask.

Councilor Troi looked up from her seat, at the messhall table, and saw Fitch standing there, with a tray in his hands. She wanted to say no, the Ghost, as he was now known as among the crew, felt very disturbing to her. But as a Starfleet officer it was her duty to accommodate the guests as well as she could. “Yes, of course. Have a seat.”

“Interesting things these ‘replicators’, as you call them.” Fitch said. “They can make you any kind of food in the blink of an eye, and from thin air too it would seem.”

To him, this was a little overkill when it came to the general comfyness on the ship. No wonder these Federation people were all so placid and uninteresting. Then again, how much better off wouldn’t the people in the Koprulu sector be if they had these same luxuries.

“Yes, they do tend to make things a lot easier.” Deanna agreed. And in truth, she had become so accustomed to them, just like the rest of the crew aboard the Enterprise, that she couldn’t even imagine living aboard a starship for an extended period of time without them.

“So, what did you order?” She asked and looked over at Fitch’s plate.

“I’m not quite sure.” Fitch answered. “I just thought I’d try a random alien dish, seeing as I’ve never tasted any alien delicacies before.”

He was poking at some of the more exotic looking parts of the dish with his fork, while he was talking, wondering weather it was alive or not.

“There’s actually something I’ve been meaning to ask you,” He said after a brief silence between the two, while still trying to make up his mind on weather the food in front of his edible or not.

“Yes?” Deanna prompted.

“During my training, I came across many other telepaths, just like me, and they all seemed very alike, very similar to each other. It wasn’t difficult for me to determine who had the talent, and who didn’t have it. You on the other hand, you somehow feel different from them,” He said, finally deciding to actually taste the food. “Why do you think that is?”

“Well, I suppose it could be because I’m part Betazoid, and in any case, I’m not actually a telepath.” Deanna replied. She decided to elaborate on that part when she saw Fitch’s questioning look on his face.

“Forgive me, I forgot you’re not familiar with the different alien species in our reality.” She said. “Betazoids are a species that look very much like your average human, but they do have one major exception. They’re both empathic and telepathic.”

“Empathic?” Fitch asked, almost choking on his meal. The choking part more due to the strange tasting dish then the sudden revelation that the woman in front of him was actually both part alien that had empathic abilities. “That means you can sense what other people feel, rather then know their specific thoughts. Yes, that might explain why you feel so different from the others.”

“Are there a lot of telepaths and empaths in the Federation?” Fitch asked.

“No, well, there are certain races like the Betazoids that tend to all have these abilities to some degree, but among most species, including humans, those traits are extremely rare.”

Fitch’s attempt at further conversation was foiled when Deanna’s comm-badge made its customary chirping noise.

“Counselor Troi, report to the sickbay immediately, the alien has awoken and you are needed.” Without so much as another bite, she got up and excused herself.

Fitch, who didn’t want the UFP’s first meeting with the Protoss to slip by, without him there, quickly followed, explaining that he could be of some help in restraining the brute’s psionic powers if he became hostile.

* * * *

The Captain, along with Doctor Crusher, Morham and Worf, were already waiting for Troi and Fitch, as they entered the sickbay. The security detachment Picard had assigned to watch over the survivors, was also there, ready for any kind of trouble, and more then a little nervous when faced with the large and intimidating alien.

Fitch was a bit surprised to see that Morham had somehow managed to get a split lip and a few bruises on him, since last he saw the marine, and though he just itched to make some kind of witty remark on the matter, he quickly put the thought aside as there were more important things to mind right now.

Apparently the Protoss had gained consciousness only moments ago, as he was still sitting on the biobed, staring at the ground, and trying to shake the dizziness away.

The alien was well aware of the entourage outside the force field though, studying his every move with great interest. He used his psionic abilities to make a quick probing of the room, and as a result, he didn’t feel all too threatened, as he could only sense ill will from two of the humans, the rest merely seemed curious, and perhaps a bit uneasy.

The question “Where am I?” came to the Starfleet Captain suddenly. It wasn’t actually asked though, and neither could it be heard by ears, instead, it was as if the question had popped up directly in his mind. But somehow, the Captain still knew the alien had been the one asking the question.

Another small mystery, Picard noted. How had the creature actually known his language? It wasn’t as if it would have had any opportunity to decipher it yet, and the translator hadn’t had time to kick in, much less translate a whole new language.

The Protoss looked over at the Captain, who was the one standing closest to the forcefield at that time. The alien had correctly surmised that he was most likely the leader of the humans who had captured him.

Picard took a step closer and spoke with a clear voice. “You are on board the United Federation of Planets starship Enterprise, and I am Jean-Luc Picard, Captain of this vessel.”

The dim lights behind the Protoss’ eyes seemed to shift slightly as he looked at the Captain. But he said nothing.

United Federation of Planets, the alien though. It had never before heard of anything like that, yet it and its templar brethren had been thoroughly briefed before their mission to the Koprulu sector.

“We mean you no harm, we simply want to talk to you.” Picard continued, hoping to get the alien to respond in some way.

The Protoss sensed that the Captain was being honest, he really was speaking the truth.

It still didn’t know exactly what was going on around it though, and so, caution was still preferable to trust. It knew first hand how brutal and shifty the humans could be, having seen his brethren being killed by them. They were a young species, unpredictable and feral, in his eyes.

Yet, some of the minds in that room were different from the others, just like the mind of a Protoss was different from that of a human’s. Did that mean there were other species there as well?

The alien looked around the room with a scrutinizing gaze, evaluating each and every one of the people standing on the other side of the forcefield. Two of them were different, one, was physically identical to the other humans, but the other, while roughly human like in appearance, also had several differences, most notably, strange ridges on his forehead. Yes, the Protoss though, that one was clearly a different species, but none that he had ever come across before.

Then another revelation hit the Protoss. The humans in the Koprulu sector shouldn’t have had the technology to create forcefields yet, so how was it possible that he was trapped by one?

“Tell me, how did I come to be on this vessel?” The alien asked, narrowing its eyes at Morham, apparently recognizing the man from their previous encounter on the surface of Mar Sara.

“You were captured during our little skirmish,” Fitch cut in, stealing the Protoss’ gaze. “Yes, that’s right, you lost the battle. But things didn’t exactly go our way either. When we were transporting you back to our fleet, our ship flew into a spatial anomaly of sorts, and that’s how we were brought here.”

“And where is here? I have never heard of a Terran organisation calling itself the Federation.” The Protoss asked, turning towards Picard again, seemingly unfazed by Fitch’s attempts to aggravate him. “I have heard stories that say the Terrans in the Koprulu sector are originally from another place, a distant homeworld. Are you by chance from there?”

“That’s actually quite an interesting topic, one which I think you might have some problems believing at first, but I can assure you, what I’m going to tell you is the truth.” Picard started, though he would much rather have avoided this topic for as long as possible.

“To put it in simple terms, our people, though we are both human, are from two different dimensions. We, the Federation, come from a reality that is similar to yours, yet different in many ways.” He explained, half expecting some sort of an outburst from the alien. A claim like the one he had just made, must have sounded ludicrous to the Protoss. But no outburst was forthcoming, the alien just sat there, watching the people around it.

“When you were being transported from the surface of Mar Sara, the ship carrying you flew into what was in fact, an inter-dimensional gateway of sorts, which acted as a portal between our two realities. We don’t know how it was formed, or exactly how it works yet, but it is there, none the less.”

“Strange.” The Protoss said, thinking the thing over. He had been closely watching Picard’s mind the whole time he was talking, to see if the strange human was lying.

“My people have never encountered any phenomenon like the one you speak of, and we have explored our own galaxy from one end to the other. Yet, I cannot sense any deception from you.”

The Captain could hardly believe it, how could this creature believe him so easily. If their positions had been reversed, and he would just have been told that he was in a different dimension, Picard would never have accepted it at face value.

“Captain,” Troi spoke up. “I think our guest is using his telepathy to check whether you are lying or not. Much like Fitch did when he first awoke.”

“I see.” Picard said, amusedly thinking that keeping secrets in the Koprulu sector would have to be hard indeed, seeing as every other person you came upon were scanning your mind. He hadn’t thought that powers like that could be used on him with so little effort though, or without being noticed in someway. Reports of alien races using their telepathy on humans usually stated that the event was a clearly noticeable thing, even unpleasant at times.

“I can see that this is something your species does appreciate.” The alien said.

“Well, usually we prefer to discuss things the normal way, looking around in another persons head without that persons permission isn’t exactly considered polite.”

“Then I will refrain from doing it in the future.” The Protoss said simply.

“Good, though I suppose I can understand why you did what you did.” Picard said.

The Protoss simply nodded in response.

Picard then decided to do something that no one else in the room expected. He had been studying the alien intently during their entire conversation, and while it remained quite enigmatic, he still felt as if it harboured no ill feelings towards any of them.

“As I said earlier, we mean you no harm.” The Captain said, moving over to a nearby console.

“The Federation has no quarrel with you, or your people, and that’s why I’m going to lower the forcefield surrounding you now, as a gesture of good faith.” Picard said, he knew that this could be quite dangerous, but with his security detail there, he imagined they would be safe enough, even if the alien became hostile.

It was like he had said earlier, the Federation dislikes first contact situations where one of the people involved is incarcerated behind a forcefield. He needed to get the aliens trust, if any headway was to be gained.

“You can’t do that!” Morham burst. “You can’t let that monster loose! It killed my entire squad right in front of my eyes, its race destroyed a whole planet without any provocation, it deserves to be locked up, all of them deserve to be locked up!” He shouted, loosing all control over his anger.

To him, the Captains proposal, and apparent naiveté, were bordering on madness.

“My friend here might be a bit brusque when expressing his opinions, but I’m inclined to agree. Letting it go would be a very bad idea.” Fitch agreed.

The Protoss shifted slightly, and focused his eyes on the disgruntled marine. “Destroyed your planet without provocation?” It questioned. “Would you rather have been consumed by the spreading Zerg infestation?”

“What the hell are you babbling about? What’s a Zerg?” Morham continued ranting.

At this, the Protoss eyes widened briefly, much like a human’s would, if he had been shocked by something. “You don’t know about the Zerg?” It asked.

Morham looked over at Fitch, seeing if he knew something about what the alien was talking about, but he just shrugged as a response.

“Apparently not, but why don’t you enlighten us?” The marine finally answered.

“This is strange news indeed,” The alien started. “Yet it would explain some of the unanswered questions surrounding the Zerg, and their attack on your colonies. The Protoss was surprised when we first learned how far you had allowed the infestation to spread, we never could understand why you did not intervene, but now you’re saying you haven’t even heard of the Zerg?”

“Cut the crap already, what are these Zerg and what’s all this about infestations?” Morham demanded, growing tired of the Protoss’ circular answers.

Picard didn’t understand much of what was going on, but he decided that it might be best to let the foreigners deal with this on their own, so he remained silent.

“The Zerg is a species, or rather a collection of many different species, controlled by some form of intelligence we have yet to discover. Once, each of the species that are now Zerg, were nothing but normal animals, but then the swarm came, assimilating them into their hive, and twisting them to suit their own needs, until finally, they remained but an echo of their former selves. We don’t know much else about them, except that they for some strange reason, seem to be interested in assimilating your species into their collective.”

Captain Picard couldn’t help but cringe at the phrasing the Protoss had used, it sounded a little too familiar to him. In fact the entire description of the Zerg sounded much like the Borg, except for the exclusion of the cybernetic component.

“That’s a bunch of crap!” Morham said dismissively. “How come we’ve never heard of these Zerg, if their supposed to be attacking us?”

“While I probably wouldn’t express myself as colourfully as my fried here, I too would very much like to hear about this.” Fitch said.

“I’m afraid this new revelation is as puzzling to me as it is to you.” The alien replied. “The planet you call Chau Sara, had been completely overrun by these beasts, with several of your major colonies burning. I do not see how such a thing could have escaped the notice of your leaders.” It explained. “We burned that planet to protect you, and ourselves, by preventing the infestation to spread to your other worlds. There was nothing we could have done for the people still alive on the surface.”

“Sorry, but that still just sounds like a bunch of crap, you’re only telling us this to get free, right?” Morham laughed. “Fitch, can you use your fancy brain power to see if the bastard’s lying?”

“Afraid not, his mental defences are too strong.” Fitch answered.

“If you wish, I could lower them temporarily, if that is what it would take for you to believe me.”

“It would be a start, at least.” Fitch said.

“Then so be it, my mind is open.” The Protoss said.

Fitch took a step forward, and locked his eyes with the giant alien, concentrating as hard as he could.

“Well, is it working?” Morham asked impatiently.

“It would go a lot faster if you’d just shut up. His mind is alien to me, I need some time learn it before I can go poking around for information.” Fitch sneered.

A few moments passed in silence, as the entire assembly eagerly waited for the two telepaths to finish their session. Picard thought about asking Troi to see if she could learn something of what was going on, but then decided against it. It would be better to see how this all played out.

“It’s true.” Fitch finally said, breaking the telepathic link, and backing away from the Protoss.

“But that just doesn’t make any sense, how could we not know if we were attacked?” Morham asked, still unconvinced.

“Actually… I think I might have an explanation.” Fitch said. “It’s quite simple, really. I think the Confederacy did know about it, but chose to keep the whole matter secret. During my latest missions, I’ve come across a few reports, telling that strange creatures had been killing and mutilating people on Chau Sara, seemingly at random.” He explained.

“What I first thought strange about the thing, was that the Confederacy was interested enough in these seemingly mundane critters, to mark them as highly classified. I think these might be the Zerg the Protoss mentioned.”

“Yes, that sounds very much like the Zerg.” The Protoss agreed.

“Then, what’s their purpose? Why were they attacking civilians on Chau Sara?” Fitch asked.

“Like I explained earlier, their exact motives remain unclear. All we know is that they have taken great interest in the human species.”

“This still doesn’t explain how we’ve never heard of them.” Morham said.

“That should be pretty obvious, even to a monkey like you.” Fitch said. “The Confederacy never told anyone about them.”

“Yeah right, why would they keep something like that a secret?”

“Who knows, but during my service to the Confederacy, I’ve learned that they’ll do just about anything to achieve their goals, including selling out an entire world to be killed, if it served their purpose at the time. Remember Korhal? They’re still capable of things like that.”

“This is bullshit! Can’t you see that he’s just telling you this so that he can get free and then kill us all?” Morham shouted, unwilling to accept what he was hearing.

“No,” Fitch said calmly. “I checked his mind, he’s telling the truth, weather you want to believe it or not is of no relevance.”

Picard decided to take this time to voice the suggestion, he made earlier, again. “If what the Protoss says is true, then I really see no reason for keeping him confined behind a forcefield.” He said, much to the dismay of Morham.

“But I will say this only once, Protoss. If you start any trouble while free, I will use any means necessary to pacify you, and throw you right back in that cage.” Picard said, letting what he had said sink in for a while.

Then he proceeded, and pressed a few buttons on the console in front of him, disabling the forcefield. The artificial barrier of static energy flickered briefly, and then vanished.

The alien took a few tentative steps forward and reached out with its hand, to see if the barrier was really gone, and much to his pleasing, it was. “I thank you for your trust in me, Captain Picard.” He said and walked out to position himself directly in front of the people standing there, his full height towering over them.

“My name is Thalas.”

Picard smiled and nodded in appreciation. “Well, now that you’re free, there are still a number of things I’d like to-”

But before he had the chance to go on, the entire ship rocked violently, nearly throwing the people in the sickbay off their feet. Picard grabbed hold of the console near him and tapped the comm badge on his breast hurriedly. “Picard to the bridge, report!”

The voice of Commander Riker could be heard over the comm. "Captain, the anomaly is growing in diameter, and we've been caught in the intensifying gravity well it’s projecting."

"Move away from the anomaly, maximum impulse! I don't want to be pulled in if the gravity gets any stronger." The Captain ordered.

"We’re trying sir, but the gravity is already to strong! If we keep trying to break free, we risk breaking this ship apart!" Riker shouted over the ever increasing din in the background. And as if on queue, the ship started trembling violently, its hull straining under the constant pull between the two opposing forces.

Damn, Picard thought. Just when things seemed to start looking up, something like this had to come along. It all seemed almost too convenient, like it had all somehow been staged. He quickly shrugged the thought away though, as there were more pressing matters to focus on right now.

"It seems we have no choice then." He said solemnly. "Disengage the engines and reroute as much power to the shields as you can, let the Enterprise drift into the sphere. Hopefully we'll be as lucky as our guests here, and reach to the other side in one piece."

Riker acknowledged the command and ordered the helmsman to disengage the engines. The shaking ceased almost immediately, and the Enterprise started drifting towards the anomaly peacefully.

A few seconds later, the ship crossed the outer edge of the spatial phenomenon, its metal hull being encased in the strange liquid like substance inside the sphere.

Then the shaking started up again. Consoles exploded into sparks, as the very fabric of reality was warped in places, and the groaning sounds of the outer hull could be heard echoing inside the ship.

Picard held on to the console he was standing next to, gritting his teeth and hoping that his beloved ship could survive the anomaly’s turbulent inner workings long enough for them to reach the other side.

If there even was an other side.

Ep. 3 eh? I seem to recall another meeting between one of the Protoss and a certain Jedi in a another fan fic that had quite a shiny battle between the two. I can't wait to read more.

ElPintoGrande wrote:Ep. 3 eh? I seem to recall another meeting between one of the Protoss and a certain Jedi in a another fan fic that had quite a shiny battle between the two. I can't wait to read more.

Yeah, the fan-fic your thinking of is actually the reason i started writing mine. If we're thinking of the same fan-fic that is, which i do believe we are.

Although you might have to wait a while before a Protoss/Sith battle comes up, seeing as there aren't really any good Sith candidates for such a battle at the start of ep 3. No one knows about palpy and he's the only one untill Anakins fall at the end.

We are thinking of the same fic. Shame, it would be fun to see an ALIEN put old man Palpatine in his place. And being that this is Your story, you don't neccesarily have to make Anakin fall. just something to play with, but the choice is yours as always.

Nice! This is a good fanfic to occupy the SC-ST-SW fix whilst The Rift is on hiatus; perhaps in a while it'll be the alternative reading.

Chapter 5: Warzone

Admiral Roth stood at the front of the bridge of his brand new Venator-class attack cruiser, gazing out of the huge panoramic window that covered much of the front and sides of the bridge. Behind him a very inpatient Captain paced up and down the narrow walkway separating the two crewpits on either side. Every now and then the Captain would look down at the crew working in the pits, anxious for them to complete their scans of this system.

Roth and his small fleet had been tasked with the simple mission of inspecting a few of the outlying systems on the galactic rim for any signs of Separatist activity. He knew however, that the chances of them actually running into the Confederacy of Independent Systems here on the barren edge of the galaxy was almost non-existent. Which was of course was exactly why he was out here in the first place.

The ships in his fleet were still very new and hadn’t even been properly tested yet. Had this been peacetime the ships wouldn’t have been commissioned after much more dry-dock testing, but as it were every single ship was needed if the Separatist threat was to be countered. And in stead of wasting a battle hardened fleet on this mission, Roth was sent.

And his ships weren’t the only thing needing the experience, as his crew was also relatively fresh. Most of them hadn’t even served aboard a real military vessel before this mission. They had merely been recruited by the Republic and given a crash course in what they needed to know in order to serve aboard a starship to fill out the void of officers needed for the Republic fleet.

“Have you found anything yet?” The Captain asked the men manning the ships sensors.

“Well sir, there’s no sign of any Separatist activity,” one of the younger Lieutenants answered. “However there is something strange we picked up not too far from here.”

The Admiral noticed that the man was a little nervous, not from anything he had seen on his scopes but rather about his whole situation here on the ship. The Lieutenant in question had been a sensors operator on a mining ship before the war, and as such this entire experience would no doubt be quite intimidating for him.

“What is it?” The Captain asked eagerly, thinking that perhaps this time they would actually find something of significance.

“A spatial anomaly, Sir. That’s-“ The Lieutenant started but was quickly cut off by the Admiral.

“Spatial anomalies do not concern me, Lieutenant. If you find any sign of the Separatists, then report it, otherwise, don’t.” The stern faced Admiral calmly explained.

The Lieutenant turned back to his station in the crew pit. “Sir!” He shouted, and this time the Admiral could hear in his voice that he had noticed something of significance. “There are several ships exiting hyperspace, not far from here!”

“Can you identify them?” The Captain asked.

“Yes, it’s a Separatist battle group!” The Lieutenant answered with a near frantic voice.

The Admiral calmly stood at the front of the bridge, watching as several tiny objects appeared out in the distance.

“How in blazes could they get the jump on us like this?” The Captain demanded. How a Separatist fleet could just suddenly appear at their exact location was damn near impossible, unless they somehow had gotten their hands on the patrol plans.

“Well, if I’d have to guess I’d say we’ve got a mole on one of our ships, that’s the only way they could have known about us.” The always calm and composed Jedi Knight said, as he strolled out onto the bridge to join the Admiral and the Captain. His name was Cartaine, and as a simple Jedi Knight in rank, far from attaining the position of Master, he was usually given the less important missions as assignments, missions like accompanying this battlegroup on their patrol.

“We’re now picking up over a dozen more contacts right in front of us! They are targeting our ships with weapons armed.” The Lieutenant shouted, fear clearly evident in his voice.

“Transfer your readings to my screen.” Roth said to the Lieutenant and walked over to the nearest console. Its display shifted to that of a graphical interpretation of what was going on outside as the Lieutenant patched his feed through to it. Roth could see at least thirty Recusant-class Light Destroyers, four Munificent-class Frigates and two of the massive Trade Federation Battleships on the screen. His own force consisting of no more then twelve Republic cruisers accompanied by various smaller support craft wouldn’t even be a challenge for the Separatists.

“How long until they reach weapons range?” He asked one of the other officers down in the pit.

“At least another minute.”

“Sir,” Another officer interjected. “We have reports of sabotage aboard the ship, the hyperdrive has been disabled, and at least five other ships are reporting the same thing.”

“What?! This can’t be!” The Captain shouted in denial. “Sabotage of that magnitude would mean that we don’t just have one infiltrator among us, but several!”

“Indeed, it’s strange that I haven’t sensed any of them, they know what they’re doing that’s for sure.” The Jedi said.

“The incoming ships are scrambling vulture droids numbering in the hundreds.” The young Lieutenant said as his screen was filled with a multitude of smaller dots, representing fighter craft.

“How long before the hyperdrives can be repaired?” The Admiral asked.

“Impossible to say at this moment, Sir. The repair crews haven’t had time to analyse the damage yet.” One of the officers replied.

Admiral Roth looked out at the fleet slowly advancing towards them with a scold on his face. “Fine, if it’s a battle they want, that’s what they’ll get.” He said with a determined voice. “Contact all the Ship Captains in our battlegroup and have them prepare for battle and scramble fighters.”

“Cartaine, I think you would be more useful in your starfighter during this engagement, I want you and your fighters to clear out those vulture droids.” The Admiral continued. The Jedi nodded and ran down the isle between the two crew pits and out of the bridge.

“Communications officer, contact the other cruisers in our battlegroup via secure transmission and relay the following orders. They are to form up and remain in close proximity to each other until the hyperdrives have been repaired. Once this is done we will retreat as fast as possible. We can’t let the enemy break us up, that would mean certain destruction for us.” The Admiral explained at length.

The only thing left was to see the whole thing through and hope for the best. But the Admiral knew that they would suffer horrible losses even if they were successful in fixing the hyperdrives and escaping. And if they weren’t, there was nothing holding the Separatists back from grounding his fleet into dust and eliminating every single one of them.

* * * *

“Damage report!” Riker shouted as he picked his battered self up from the floor of the bridge. He was cradling his arm as it had been badly hurt when he was knocked off his feet. He tried to move it but a sharp pain shot through the entire length of it, and he had to force himself not to show that pain to the crew. It was broken, there could be no doubt about it. With his other arm he tried to wave away the smoke that had filled the bridge from his eyes.

Lining the walls were several broken consoles shooting sparks and a few were even openly on fire. Crewmen were running to and fro in a mild state of panic, trying to put out those fires while others were working their consoles furiously, trying to assess the damage and bring some measure of stability to the whole situation.

“Internal sensors are showing damage across all decks and the hull has been breached in several places,” Worf said with a loud enough voice to be heard over the chaos on the bridge. “I have temporarily patched those ruptures with emergency forcefields, and it looks as if they’re holding.” He continued, checking his console for more information. “Propulsion is offline, both warp and impulse. But I’ve managed to get the shields back up to seventy-three percent.” He continued as the information kept scrolling across his screen. “There are several wounded but no reports of casualties as of yet.” He finally concluded his report.

At least there was some good news in all of this, Riker thought to himself, no casualties so far. “Have we cleared the anomaly?” He asked, directing his question to the helmsman.

“Yes, the anomaly has disappeared and we are free of its gravitational pull.” Came the answer.

Riker sat down in his chair with a deep sigh, the ship had taken a fair beating, but at least they were still in one piece. “Dispatch damage control teams and get me the Captain. He needs to be informed of the situation.”

But just as Riker had settled down in his seat, thinking the worst was over, Worf interrupted him once more. “Sir! I’m reading several sensor contacts.” He said.

“What? What kind of sensor contacts? And from where?” Riker asked with a curious expression, turning towards Worf.

“I’m having problems locking on to them, probably due to some residual effects from the anomaly.” Worf explained, obviously irritated at the equipment not working properly. “But if I’m reading this correctly then there are at least thirty ships out there that are roughly the size of the Enterprise, with one of them even over four kilometres long. There are also several hundred smaller craft in the area, roughly the size of our shuttles.”

That was quite a substantial force, Riker thought to himself. “Any guess as to what they are doing out there?” Riker asked, and winced in pain as he moved his arm a little to fast.

“I’m getting readings of heavy energy exchange between them, it looks as if two factions are battling each other.” He finished and looked up at the Commander. Rikers expression now changed from one of curiosity to one of alarm.

“On screen.” He demanded. Splayed across it was a view of the space outside and against the backdrop of the multitude of tiny stars was the scene of a space battle the likes of which Riker had never before seen. Dozens of kilometre long capital ships could be seen, spewing blue and red energy beams from their weapon emplacements. Explosions could be seen everywhere, lighting up the bridge from time to time. In between the larger ships Riker could see smaller, perhaps one man fighter craft, dodging and tumbling about while spewing forth their own weapons fire. He had never before seen ships of this type and the sheer energy output that the sensors were picking up from them were simply too high to be matched by any known species in the galaxy. That is… anyone in their own galaxy he thought as a very disturbing notion came to mind.

“Get me the Captain, NOW!” Riker shouted without taking his eyes of the battle raging on outside.

“No need to shout number one, I’m already here.” Came Picards calm voice from behind him. Riker turned around to see the Captain standing by the railing, looking out over the scene of destruction and war with a far too serene look on his face. “Never before have I seen anything like this.” He said, more to himself then anyone else. A huge explosion then filled the viewscreen as one of the larger capital ships reactors went critical and the entire thing exploded in a huge ball of fire, shocking the Captain back to his immediate surroundings.

“Number one, send out a message across all subspace frequencies, explaining that we have nothing to do with this battle. I don’t want either side taking us for the enemy and attacking us.” The Captain said and walked over to his chair. He opened a comm channel to engineering as he sat down. “LaForge, how soon can you have propulsion back online?”

“It will take at least another hour sir, there are a lot of other things we have to deal with first, such as keeping the life support going and the warp core from going critical.” He answered over the tumult in the background.

“Get impulse back online as soon as you can, make it your top priority.”

“Aye sir.” Geordi acknowledged and severed the comm link.

Picard sat back down in his chair with a concerned look on his face. If either one of the sides conducting this fight mistook them for enemies they would be blasted to pieces in mere seconds. If the sensor readings were correct then one of the larger capital ships could easily overpower them, especially now that the Enterprise was in such a banged up state.

Picard couldn’t but shudder at the predicament they were in right now. How many times had not the Federation encountered enemies that seemed far superior to them. And always they were hostile. The Romulans, Borg and now the Dominion were but a few examples.

* * * *

“Admiral, I have something I think you should take a look at.” The younger Lieutenant shouted from his station down in the crew pit. Roth walked over to the side of the walkway, looking down at the young crewman, wondering what could be so important as to draw his attention away from the battle raging on outside. They had just lost two of their ships from the larger turbo laser emplacements on the two approaching Munificent-class vessels.

“Yes Lieutenant?” Roth said, his voice informing the young man that the matter had better be important.

“I just picked up a new ship on my scopes, it’s at the edge of the engagement area and it’s broadcasting a message, the language wasn’t consistent with anything in our database so I ran it through the translator, I think the message is saying that the ship not apart of this battle and that they mean neither side any harm.”

“What do you mean ‘just picked up’.” The Admiral asked, his eyes narrowing dangerously.

“Well it wasn’t there a second ago when I checked, there was just the anomaly I was trying to tell you about earlier.” The sensors operator explained, his voice a bit shaky.

“What kind of ship is it?” The Admiral kept asking, more curious then angry now.

“It doesn’t match any known ship types, either Republic or Separatist. It could be a civilian ship of some sort, though it is a little big to not be mentioned in our database. And what’s more is that it seems to be damaged. There are several breeches along its hull and the power fluctuations seem to indicate that the power distribution is quite unstable.”

The Admiral pondered the matter quietly for a while. “Most peculiar, if it does anything else inform me immediately, it could very well be some sort of a Separatist ploy. But for now we can do nothing about it, I need every single ship at my disposal if we are to win this battle. I suggest you inform Cartaine about the ship as well.” He ordered. Then he moved back to the front of the bridge to inspect their situation.

“Admiral, one of the Recusants are targeting us, it will be in firing range shortly.” The Captain was barely able to say before the deflector shields on the Venator started taking on a high concentration of turbo laser fire. The sound the weapons made when they impacted against the shields reminded Roth of bombs going off in the distance, muffled somehow, but still so very loud.

“Swing the ship about so that the maximum number of turrets are able to fire at the enemy ship.” Roth said. He could feel the ship suddenly jerking as the internal dampeners didn’t quite have time to smooth out the sudden move. “Fire all weapons!”

The space between the two ships was filled with turbo laser fire then as the mammoths started trading blows with each other. Red and blue streaks of highly concentrated energy could be seen leaving one ship and then impacting on the other and for a long time it seemed as if the two giants could go on like this forever. But slowly the deflectors on the much weaker Recusant started buckling, and then they disappeared completely. The deadly weapons of the Venator didn’t impact safely on the other ships shields anymore but was now tearing huge chunks from its hull with each shot, leaving trails of fire spewing out from the wide open cracks. The space around the ship was filled with its own debris within seconds.

“Sir, I’m reading huge internal explosions in the attacking vessel.” One of the tactical analysts reported. “The explosions seem to be spreading at a rapid pace throughout the ship.”

But he hadn’t even finished that sentence before the Admiral looking out of the window on the bridge could see the ship breaking into two parts with massive explosions erupting all over its surface. The entire bridge of the Venator exploded into a loud cheer then, as they had made their very first kill.

“Silence!” The Admiral shouted and just as quickly as the roar had come into existence it died down again. “There are still plenty more ships out there, and if we don’t remain focused during this battle we will not come out alive. So I suggest you return to your duties and save the celebration for later!”

* * * *

“Sir! Two of the smaller craft have just broken off from the main battle and are on an intercept course with the Enterprise.” Worf said.

Picard looked up at the burly man from his contemplating posture. “Are you sure they received our message of non aggression?”

“Yes, we have been repeating it uninterrupted for the last five minutes. There is one other thing Captain,” Worf said. “I’m reading no life signs from the two incoming ships, it would appear that they are fully automated.”

This was a little surprising to the Captain, fully automated ships would imply that some sort of computerised intelligence was controlling them. And if whoever was fighting out there was able to produce hundreds of ships like this, it would mean their grasp on artificial intelligence would be much more widespread then back in Picards own galaxy. “Try to open a channel to one of the approaching ships.” The Captain said.

“They’re not responding, Captain they might not even be able to since their completely automated. They seem to be designed for only one thing, war.” The comm officer explained.

“They’re firing!” Worf shouted just before the sounds of impacts against the Enterprises shield could be heard and a slight shudder of the ship could be felt.

“Report!” The Captain demanded.

“Shields down to seventy percent, even their smaller ships seem to employ heavy firepower.” Worf said.

“Captain, with the Enterprise still suffering from the power fluctuations caused by the anomaly, the alien ships could get a lucky shot in through our shields and cause a great deal of damage.” Data said.

The Captain sat silently in his seat, contemplating what course of action he should take. Should he open fire on the attack ships? The Enterprise could easily destroy these two vessels, but would it invite more of their kind to attack? The bridge shuddered yet again as the two fighters came around for another pass, spraying the shields with their fire. “Mr. Worf, you said the two fighters were automated.” Picard said with a solemn voice.

“Yes sir, there are no lifesigns aboard.” Worf repeated.

“Are the phasers online?” Picard continued.

“Yes sir.”

Picard thought about what he was about to do, destroying those ships might attract the attention of the rest of the alien ships, but then again, he couldn’t risk the lives of the crew either. “Target the ships, fire when ready.” But even as those words left his mouth, Picard knew that he would come to regret them.

Moments later two bright beams of highly concentrated energy lanced out from the saucer section of the Enterprise. They connected squarely with the hostile ships, destroying them and sending what was left of their wreckage spiralling into space.

A few silent moments passed, and then.

“Sir! One of the larger ships is breaking away from the battle, heading towards the Enterprise!” Worf said.

Picards head sank as what he had feared might happen was about to happen. There was no way the Enterprise would be able to defeat one of the larger sized ships. They probably wouldn’t even last a minute against a ship with that kind of firepower, not in the state the Enterprise was in right now. “How long until they get within firing range?” The Captain asked.

“I estimate that I will take no longer then a couple of minutes.” Worf answered.

* * * *

The Recusant that had just broken formation didn’t escape Cartaines notice. A few minutes earlier he had also been informed of the strange ship that the Destroyer was now headed for, but with a bunch of vulture droids on his tail he hadn’t had the time to give it a more detailed look. But now that the Separatists obviously risked their own battlelines to engage the foreign ship he was all the more interested in it. But it was also something more, it was as if the force itself was begging him to examine the odd ship.

“TK-421, have your wing and yourself form up behind me,” Cartaine said over the comm to one of the nearest clone pilots. “Let’s clear out the nearest vulture droids so I can head after that Destroyer that just broke formation.”

“Copy that Gold Leader.” Came the obedient reply. And soon Cartaine had four ARC-170 starfighters following him in a wedge formation.

“We’ve got an incoming group of six vulture droids from nine ‘o clock. Come around to engage.”

The four ARC-170’s with their Jedi starfighter leading them veered off so that they were approaching the incoming group of Separatist starfighters head on. Seconds later the space between the two approaching groups of starfighters erupted into fire as both sides started spewing their lasers towards the enemy. Two vulture droids as well as one ARC-170 received direct hits and burst into flame. The screams from the clone pilot echoed over the comm systems.

Cartaines fighter nearly collided when he was forced to fly right between two of the enemy fighters to avoid their weapons. That little manoeuvre warranted a loud pitched “Yaaaoow!” from his R4 unit situated on his wing. “Calm down R4, I know what I’m doing.” The confident Jedi said.

As soon as the two groups were clear of each other the entire region erupted into chaos as it now was every man (or droid) for himself. Coordination becoming all but impossible in the thick jumble of laser fire and starfighters.

But it was in these conditions that the living pilots excelled, far outmatching their droid counterparts. As the battle no longer was a simple matter of calculations but more a matter of instinct and gut feeling coupled with the unpredictedness of the human mind. It didn’t take many more minutes before the last of the Vulturedroids were blasted to pieces, erupting into a very gratifying ball of fire and debris. No more then two of the four ARC-170’s that had followed Cartaine into the fray had been destroyed.

“Good job, you’re free to continue on your own now, Gold Leader out.” Cartaine said and swung about to head for the newly appeared ship just outside of the engagement area.

His comm system crackled to life and the voice of Admiral Roth was heard. “What do you think you’re doing? You’re needed were you just were.”

“It’s the strange ship you told me about Admiral, a Separatist Destroyer just broke formation to intercept it, and I also have reports of a wing of vulturedroids attacking it some time ago. Whoever they are, they’re clearly not on friendly terms with the Separatists.” Cartaine explained.

“And? This does not merit the attention of a Jedi Knight during a direct engagement with the Separatists! Do I need to remind you of just what is at stake here?” The Admiral asked, his voice taking on a sterner tone.

“I know, and believe me normally I wouldn’t even think twice about it, but it’s something more this time, the force itself is telling me that my attention needs to be focused on that ship. And believe me, you don’t want to ignore what the force tells you.” Cartaine explained.

On his end the Admiral was fuming, he had no understanding of the force and wasn’t even sure if he even believed in its existence, but he couldn’t order the Jedi to turn around either as they were all free to do as they wanted. “Fine, report back as soon as you can.” The Admiral said and closed the comm channel.

“Is it just me or does he seem a little more grumpy then usual today?” Cartaine asked his R4 unit. The droid rolled through a series of beeps and chimes that sounded more like an amused chuckle then anything else.

“Well in any case, I want you to start scanning the vessel we’re headed for, I want to know as much about it as possible.” The Jedi said, flipping a few controls in his cockpit, adjusting his monitors to display whatever the droid found.

* * * *

“Have they responded in any way to our communications?” Picard asked and looked over at the comm officer.

“No sir, their still approaching with weapons charged and aimed at us.”

The Captains shoulders slumped as he looked at the ship approaching on the viewscreen. There was no possible way the Enterprise could defeat it, and propulsion was still offline so escape wasn’t an option either.

Then he finally reached a decision on what to do.

He punched a few controls on the armrest of his chair, opening a comm channel to the entire ship. “This is Captain Picard, All non essential personnel proceed to the escape pods, I don’t want any unnecessary casualties if the Enterprise is attacked. As for the rest of you… Battle stations.”

The entire ship came alive then, as civilians hurried towards the escape pods for safety and the crew took up their positions, some of them getting their phaser rifles in case the enemy would try to board them at some point in the upcoming battle.

“Mr. Worf, keep scanning the incoming ship for any weaknesses, load the torpedo tubes and charge up the main phasers.” The Captain added once the comm link to the rest of the ship was severed. “Do not fire until fired upon, we still can’t be certain about their intentions.”

“Aye Sir.” Came Worfs reply.

The Enterprise was now as ready as they ever would be. But with their power grid still out of focus and their shield and weapon strength considerably weakened Picard realised they wouldn’t stand a chance.

Ah good as usual. I'll have to agree with my esteemed colleague that this is a worthy replacement for 'The Rift' while it is on hiatus. As always keep up the good writing.

*requsitions more*

Right, it's been a while since my last update. Real life has a tendency to sometimes get in the way of the stuff you'd rather be doing. Suffice to say that there were a bunch a exams and a trip to Estonia involved.

And then when i finally got around to writing the next chapter it just kept on growing and growing. In the end it was about as large as two of my normal chapters. But i didn't want to cut them into two separate chapters either, so here you go.



Chapter 6: Retreat

Not so much as a sound could be heard on the bridge of the Enterprise, everything was as still as grave as all eyes were fixed on the viewscreen, focusing the huge kilometer long ship slowly making its way towards them with the promise doom.

A while ago Picard had ordered the message of non-hostility that the Enterprise was transmitting to be changed to that of surrender. He had hoped that this would at least enable them to reach a somewhat peaceful immediate solution and then when everything had calmed down they could explain themselves to whomever these aliens were. After all, that was what this all had to be about, a simple misunderstanding that could be explained. But as it was, no answer had been forthcoming, and the alien ship was still approaching with their weapons charged and ready.

Picards face was as stern as it had ever been when he finally decided to speak up, trying to ease the nervous atmosphere that was evident on the bridge. “Have all the non-essentials evacuated yet?” He asked.

Riker looked down and tapped a few controls on his console to check. “Yes, the escape pods have launched, and they are currently heading away from the engagement zone.” He replied.

“Good, that means at least they will be safe from whatever might happen next. Even if we are forced to do battle, no one would attack unarmed escape pods.” Picard said, but even as he did, his mind was filled with doubt. The truth was that they really didn’t know anything about these aliens or their intentions.

“How long until the alien vessel will reach firing range?” Picard asked, directing the question to Worf.

“Any moment now, Sir.” He answered.

“Then I guess it’s time.” Picard said with a solemn voice. “Bring the phasers online and load all the torpedo bays. Divert all auxiliary power to the weapons systems and shields.” He started ordering. “Get a targeting lock on the alien ship, but do not fire until fired upon.” He concluded, he still wanted to do everything in his power to bring this all to a peaceful end.

But mere seconds after those orders were issued Picards wishes flew right out the window as the forward gun emplacements on the approaching ship erupted into fire. Red bolts of high-yield energy spew forth from them to impact the shields of the Enterprise in a steady stream of tremendous force. But the bolts all dissipated into nothing more then vapor as a screen of blue light from the Enterprises shields shimmered into existence right in front of them. The shields groaned under the strain of the continuous fire, sending tremors throughout the entire ship.

“Sir! Our shields are dropping fast. They will not be able to sustain this kind of punishment for much longer.” Worf shouted over the din of the bridge.

Picards face turned to a scowl and he gripped the armrests on his chair so hard that his knuckles went white from the pressure. They have no right! Was all he could think. “Fire quantum torpedoes, full spread! Let’s see if they back down once we show we’re not completely dead in the water.”

Four torpedoes, all carrying a massive payload of fire and destruction, were launched from the forward torpedo tubes of the Enterprise, speeding towards the enemy ship. Seconds later they impacted, but the shields on the alien vessel stopped them cold, repelling their damage completely. Picard noted that the enemy ship obviously didn’t utilize the same type of shields they were used to, as no visible sign of it had been seen during the impact.

“All four torpedoes scored direct hits, but they did not penetrate the enemy vessels shields. I am however reading fluctuations in what I believe could be their shield matrix.” Worf reported. “If we keep on firing we might be able to punch through eventually.” But as all the while he said that the Enterprise kept on taking a heavy stream of enemy fire, and the tremors were becoming more intense with each hit.

“Then fire all weapons!” The Captain shouted over the ruckus on the bridge. “Try to locate their weapons systems and target that if possible!”

Bright yellow lances of phaser fire shot out from the Enterprises saucer section to connect with the shields on the enemy vessel, while salvo after salvo of quantum torpedoes were launched at it in rapid succession. All the while the enemy ship kept their barrage of pulsed energy fire steadily bombarding the Enterprise.

The two ships were both slugging it out in full force now, as well as taking on a great amount of punishment. The previously void space between the two ships filled with all manner of projectile and beam weaponry as both ships gave all they had to give. The scene could have been considered beautiful, in a macabre sort of way. It was nothing more then a race to see which ships shields would fail first and who could outlast this massive bombardment. No strategy, no tactics, just an all out slugging.

Inside the Enterprise it was like the chaotic trip through the anomaly all over again. Consoles were exploding and fires erupted everywhere as the systems overloaded. One unfortunate crewman was even blown over the railing surrounding the sides of the bridge, as his console blew up in his face.

But as the seconds passed, everyone on the bridge of the Enterprise was becoming painfully aware of the futility of their struggle. Sure their weapons were having an effect on the enemy ship, but the effect was just too weak. Their own shields were dropping way too fast for them too be able to sustain the enemies fire for long enough for their own weapons to penetrate the enemies shield. So when Worfs voice was finally heard shouting that the shields on the Enterprise were down, it came as no surprise to any of them.

The blasts that a second ago had been impacting harmlessly against the Enterprises shields now started connecting with the hull of the ship. Huge gouts of flame started sprouting up from all over the exterior of the beautiful ship, tearing its elegant design apart, as bolt after bolt blew huge chunks from the vessel to pieces. One bolt hit one of the nacelles directly, blowing the whole thing apart in a huge explosion that tilted the ship and sent it into a slow, out of control spin. The bolts dug deeper and deeper as the steady stream of destruction came rolling on. Soon the ship was barely recognizable anymore.

The interior of the ship was no calmer then the outside. Internal explosions could be seen on every single deck and a few crewmen even died in them. The forcefields that had been put into place where the hull had been breached earlier dissipated and the area around it quickly buckled under the immense change in pressure. A few more seconds and the Enterprise would be no more then a memory.

But then suddenly, the enemy vessel stopped.

The space surrounding the two ships was completely still once more, except for the occasional floating piece of debris from the Enterprises hull. As tranquil as if nothing had ever even happened there. The enterprise was still burning though, fire spewed out into space from its interior and was then quickly doused off as the vacuum no longer provided the fuel that the flames so desperately needed. The whole scene was reminiscent of a creature slowly dying, bleeding from too many wounds.

“Report!” Came the familiar voice of Captain Picard. During the last moments of that barrage he had almost relinquished all hope and given in to despair. Sure that his beloved ship and the crew were about to be annihilated. But now he was filled with hope once more. Perhaps the aliens intention was only to disable them.

“The enemy vessel has stopped firing, but their weapons are still powered up and they are still targeting us.” Worf said. “It looks as if they’re waiting for something.”

“Can we get the weapons and shields back up?” Picard asked, but looking at the broken state of the bridge, he could already guess the answer.

Worf pressed a few buttons on his console, but as nothing happened he pressed a few more. Still there was no response and his frustration took over, he slammed his hands repeatedly into the console, roaring out his rage all the while. A few more seconds of fuming and he regained his composure. “No, I don’t think we will be able to get them online again,” He finally answered. “Not without extensive repairs.”

But just as he finished that last sentence he noticed something else and spoke up again. “Sir! I am detecting several smaller craft braking off from the enemy ship. They are heading directly for the Enterprise!”

“What are they?” Picard asked, not really knowing what to make of that latest bit of information. “Boarding vessels?” He guessed.

“I don’t know, Sir. But it would seem easier to just use the transporters if they wanted to board the Enterprise.” Worf replied, his voice filled with venom.

Picards mind was racing, what was going on here? He was thinking about all the possible routes he could take with these new developments. The boarders, if indeed they were that, could be there to simply demand their surrender. Or they could be there to kill every last single one of them and try to take the ship intact. Although intact was probably not the best word to use right now when describing the Enterprise. The Captain tapped the controls on one of the arms on his chair, finally reaching a decision and opening a channel to the rest of the ship. “This is the Captain to all hands aboard the Enterprise. Prepare to be boarded. If the aliens show any signs of hostility, respond in kind. But if they are willing to let us off this ship alive, do everything they ask. I want no further bloodshed if that is only possible.”

“Sir, we have an incoming transmission, audio only.” Data said with a surprised look on his android face.

“From the ship that attacked us?” Picard asked, hoping that they were willing to talk now that they had disabled the Enterprise.

“No Captain, it is coming from a much smaller craft, one of the one-man fighters I believe. It is heading directly for us but it is still some distance away.” Data started, flipping through the sensory data faster then any normal human could. “And if I have been reading the battle going on outside between the two alien fleets correctly, then this ship and the one that attacked us were on opposite sides of this conflict.” He concluded.

“Open a channel.” Picard said. “Let’s see what he wants.”

“Channel open, Sir.”

A voice speaking an unfamiliar language could be heard over the comm, repeating what he said over and over. A few seconds passed as the ships computer tried to translate the language the alien was using. But as the two ships were both using translators that were sending out translation algorithms along with the actual message the process was quickly concluded and the two languages translated. “…I say again, this is Jedi Knight Cartaine of the Republic battle fleet, please respond.” The final message said.

Picard gathered his composure and spoke up. “This is Captain Jean-Luc Picard of the USS Enterprise. We are about to be boarded by unknown alien hostiles so I’m afraid we’ll have to be brief.” Picard said, not wanting to waste any time but still trying to be as courteous as possible.

“Yes, I know, I’ve been following your little skirmish with the Separatist vessel, and that’s also why I’m here. It’s quite obvious that you’re not on friendly terms with the CIS so I’m offering refuge aboard our ships should you accept.” Cartaine said.

Picard thought about that offer for a second. “I can’t just abandon my ship, for all I know you’re no better then the CIS, as you call them.” He responded with a stern voice.

“I’m afraid you don’t have much of a choice in the matter Captain, the Separatists are about to board your ship and believe me when I say they aren’t going to be gentle with you. I’m guessing your ship is as alien to them as it is to us, which means they probably want it for further study. If you’re lucky they will take a couple of survivors, but the rest will most certainly be killed.”

Picard sighed and looked at the weary faces on the people around him. Somehow he knew what Cartaine said was true, and their only option if they’d want to get out of this alive and not become prisoners of war was to somehow rendezvous with Cartaines ships.

“Alright, I’ll sound the evacuation.” The Captain finally said. “Can you provide safe escort to your ships for our escape pods?”

“Ah, that’s actually going to be a bit of a problem. You see my side is loosing the battle, and we can’t spare any ships to help you at the moment. In fact, we’re doing all we can just to retreat ourselves. I’m afraid you’ll have to somehow get yourselves over to our ships with only the cover I can provide, and soon too. The Admiral won’t wait for you once our hyperdrives are fixed and we are able to retreat.” Cartaine explained, not knowing if the Admiral would take them on even if they actually got there in time. But he was going to do whatever he could for these aliens, the Force was demanding it.

“Fine, we will do what we can. I’ll start the evacuation sequence, try to wait for us as long as you can.”

“Roger that, I’ll do what I can.” Cartaine said, and severed the comm link.

“Alright, you heard the man, we are going to have to be quick about this if we are to get there on time. Data, start sending out orders to the escape pods that have already launched to head for the Republic fleet. Once that’s done, start the self-destruct sequence, I’ll send out the message of retreat to the people still onboard this ship, and tell them to get to the escape pods as soon as possible. The bridge crew and senior officers will all head for the shuttlebay.” Picard started. “Oh, and I think it’s best if we take our guest along as well.”

As soon as Picard finished Data went into action, performing his designated tasks with the uncanny accuracy and proficiency only an android mind could. Picard wasn’t going to let his ship fall into enemy hands. He wanted this apparently hostile race of aliens to know as little as possible about the Federation.

* * * *

The door to the sickbay slid open as a fully clad and battle ready Morham stepped in from the hallway. The scene that greeted him was as gruesome as any he had ever seen during his service in the Guild Wars, yet somehow so out of place aboard the Enterprise. The room was filled with the screams of people in pain and there was blood everywhere. Far too many people had been crammed into that small room and there wasn’t a single biobed that wasn’t currently occupied. Morham looked over to one of them only to be greeted by the lifeless eyes of a dead crewmember. And for some reason he couldn’t bring himself to look away from those eyes.

Fitch brought him back from his trance as he walked up to him and grabbed the rifle and suit Morham was holding in his hands. “Snap out of it Private, it’s not like you haven’t seen death before.” Fitch said. Morham shifted his head to look at him instead. A realization hit him then, there was something in Fitchs eyes that was very similar to that of the dead crewman’s, no feeling, no life.

“Good thing you went to get our equipment, the Captain just said that the ship is about to be boarded. And I for one don’t trust these Feds to be up to the task of repelling a boarding party.” Fitch said as he started to put his suit on.

“Yeah,” Morham said with an absent voice. “I heard it too.”

They had both decided to stay in the sickbay when the troubles had started. The reason they had given was because they wanted to help if things got too bad down there. But the real reason for their stay had been that they both wanted to keep an eye on Thalas, the Protoss they had captured earlier on. But he had just been standing quietly in one corner of the room the whole time, watching the scene unfold before him and not making any trouble of himself.

During all this time some bits and pieces of rumors and news had been slipping down to them. Enough so that they thought they had a pretty good idea of what was going on outside right now.

A hand gripped Morhams armor clad arm then, it was Doctor Crusher. “I could really use your help right about now.” She said.

“Right, sure. What can I do?” Morham asked.

Crusher brought him to a patient that was covered in burn wounds and one of her arms had been torn completely off, probably in one of the larger explosions they had heard. Blood was gushing out of the stump that was left, dripping down on the floor, making it slippery. “I need you to keep her alive until I can treat her properly.” Crusher explained.

“How do I do that?” Morham asked, looking at the writhing form in front of him. To him the person might as well be dead already.

“We have medical technology that can save her. But I need to tend to another patient first. Try to keep pressure on the wound, I don’t want her to loose much more blood.” Crusher said.

“What wound?” Morham asked. He didn’t see any bleeding wounds except the torn arm. And she couldn’t possibly be asking him to try to stem the blood from that.

Crusher saw the questioning look in his face and knew what he was thinking. She looked him in the eyes. “Just keep pressure on it.” She said and took his hand and pressed it against the bloody stump that was what was left of the crewman’s arm. The patient responded by screaming one final time before slipping into a painless unconsciousness.

The comm systems in the sickbay crackled to life then as the voice of Captain Picard came echoing over it. He said something about everybody evacuating and trying to make it to safety. But Morham was too transfixed by the dying patient and the blood seeping through his fingers to really pay attention to anything else. He didn’t want this, none of it. No blood, no war, no death. Not anymore.

A hand gripped Morham again, and this time it was Fitch. He had his suit on now, and somehow with that piece of jet black fabric wrapped around him he seemed more like the real Fitch. As if the suit was what he really looked like, and his human form was the disguise. “You heard the Captain, it’s time for us to leave.” He said with a stern voice.

Morham looked over to the doctor and she nodded her approval. The patient with the severed arm had no chance of surviving an evacuation, and as simple as that, her life was forfeit. The doctor did manage to ease her passing somewhat though, by giving her a dose of sedatives large enough to eventually stop her heart.

A few minutes passed as the medical crew got the ones that could still walk ready to go. Dianna also showed up during this time, a phaser rifle in hand. She said that she was to show the three guests the way to the shuttlebay while Crusher, the security team and the wounded would all head for the escape pods. Fitch thought she looked a little out of place with a rifle, and had to wonder if she even knew how to use the thing.

* * * *

“Sir, the security teams have taken up position at the locations where the boarding vessels are estimated to attach themselves.” Worf said.

“Good, that means it’s time for us to start making our way to the shuttlebay. There is nothing more we can do from here.” Picard said, looking around one final time to make sure he wasn’t forgetting anything. “Tell the security teams to hold their positions for as long as possible. We want to get as many people off this ship as we can.” Picard said and got up, grabbing a spare phaser rifle from one of the newly arrived security officers that was there to escort them.

Soon after, he found himself walking down a corridor lit only by a dim light and the red flashing from the red alert lights, making the situation seem more sinister then it needed to be. Apparently the normal lighting in this corridor had been damaged during the firefight with the alien vessel, since it wasn’t supposed to be this dark.

Then suddenly, a series of loud mechanical thumps could be heard from all around them, followed by other sounds, like metal scraping against metal and then everything was silent once more, the breathing of some of the more agitated crewmembers being the only thing audible. “Captain, I believe that was the sound of boarding vessels attaching themselves to the outer hull of the Enterprise.” Data said. “We can expect them to start the boarding procedure at any moment now.”

“Yes, I guessed as much. Now come on. We need to get to the shuttlebay as fast as possible.” Picard said and resumed his pace towards the end of the corridor.

A few more minutes passed as the crew had to remove some debris that had been blocking their way. During that time they had heard the sounds of gunfire echoing down the corridors, followed by screams. They had tried to contact the others with their communicators, but they were unable to get through. The aliens probably used some sort of jamming equipment preventing them from making contact with each others. So all they could do was guess as to what was happening around them.

Just as they were coming up on a bend in the corridor they were stopped by Data, who had been walking at the front of the group, scanning for anything moving with his tricoder. “Captain, I believe there is something moving this way from the other end of the corridor. I can not be certain but I doubt they are part of the Enterprises crew.”

Picard walked up to Data and looked over the readings on his tricoder himself. Indeed something was moving towards them, but the tricoder wasn’t picking up any lifesigns from whatever it was. “Everybody check your weapons and take up defensive positions.” The Captain ordered.

In normal circumstances the corridor wouldn’t have been able to provide any cover at all. But with all the rubble and shattered metal lying everywhere after the battle they had no problem finding positions from where they could easily enough defend themselves.

Soon both eyes and rifles of all the crewmembers were pointed towards the bend in the corridor, twenty meters from their location, as they waited for whatever it was approaching to show itself.

As everybody quieted down the rhythmic sounds of metal clanks could be heard, echoing down the corridor. At first the sound was very faint, but it grew louder as the seconds passed. Riker thought it sounded almost like a band of people marching, only the steps were that of metal upon metal and the rhythm too perfect and precise.

And then the first one of the aliens rounded the corner. Only it wasn’t an alien. Not a biological one in any case, as it was clearly a machine, a robot of some sort. It was bipedal and hade a quite scrawny looking chassis with a brownish color to it. But even as they were studying the thing it opened fire at them. Shooting bolts of red energy that reminded Riker of the weapons on the enemy ship, only in a much smaller scale. The shots impacted harmlessly against the rubble or walls the crew was hiding behind.

It didn’t take long for the crew of the Enterprise to open fire themselves though.

As the first shots from the phaser rifles were shot even more of the robots came marching around the corner. They didn’t seem the least concerned with their own safety, as they came on towards the positions of the crew without so much as flinching in the face of the phaser fire.

But the shots did nothing more then slow down the oncoming enemies, knocking them back a step or two with each hit. “Were going to need more firepower, everybody adjust your phasers to a higher setting!” Riker shouted. And now the shots were doing more then just slowing down the enemy. Chunks of metal were being torn from their bodies with every hit, and soon the first ones were down. But all the while more of them were rounding the corner, slowly advancing on their position with guns blazing.

The man beside Picard, a crewman that had been working on the bridge at the time the evacuation sounded, was a little too eager and got up from his cover for a little too long. Just as Picard reached for him, trying to pull him down behind cover again, a shot from the advancing robots connected with his head. Blood exploded from it as it was blown to pieces, sending his dead body collapsing to the ground beside Picard.

Picard looked over at the dead crewman and gritted his teeth in anger. Why? Was all he kept thinking. They had done nothing to these aliens, and yet they seemed to like nothing more then to kill every single last one of their crew without so much as an explanation. He got up from behind his cover and fired off a few shots at the robot that had dealt the killing blow to the crewman beside him, bringing it down in a burning heap of fused metal and wiring. But that did nothing ease Picards anger.

The corridor was starting to fill with smoke as the firefight progressed. Three more of Picards crew fell dead, from impossibly accurate shots fired from the robots and the situation was fast becoming desperate. But then, as an answer to their prayers, the enemies started dwindling as there were no more of them coming around the corner, and the ones that were already there were shot down in rapid succession.

One of the robots actually made it all the way to the crew’s entrenched positions, but it was greeted by a smack in the face from Data and his mechanical strength. The hit made it fall back a few steps but it still managed to get off a shot from its weapon. The bolt hit Datas arm, shattering and severing it from the rest of his android body.

The robot looked down at the scorched arm, and Data could swear the look on its face was one of surprise, although the face remained as unmoving as ever.

“I am quite capable of functioning perfectly even with the loss of a limb.” Data said as he walked up to the robot and pulled its weapon from its hand. “Hitting me in the head or the chest would have been more successful.” He said as he turned the weapon around in his hand so it was pointed at the chest of the robot. “Here, let me demonstrate.” He said and pulled the trigger. The blast sent the robot flying backwards, destroying it completely.

“Indeed this is a powerful weapon.” Data said as he looked it over. “Too bad the ones using them are not as efficient.”

“Data, get back behind cover!” Riker shouted. He could hear the footsteps of something else approaching now, and the sound this one made was different from the sound the ones that had come before had made. Heavier somehow, and Riker had a good idea as to what that meant.

Data did as he was told and crouched back down behind his cover. And not a second too soon either. As the form of another bipedal robot, a lot bigger then the last ones rounded the corner. It was of a metal grey color and had a mean look to it.

It pointed its arm towards the entrenched crewmen and opened fire. Apparently this robot had a rate of fire much higher then the last ones, Data thought to himself as the entire area was saturated with its blasts. The fire forced everybody to remain behind cover, as getting up would most likely result in getting hit. One of the crewmen didn’t see it that way though, and decided to tempt fate and get up. To his credit he did get off two shots at the approaching death machine before he was cut down. The shots themselves didn’t do much else then rip some of the armor plating on the robot apart.

“How are we supposed to take that thing down without getting killed?” Riker asked Worf, who was crouching beside him.

“I will show you.” Worf said. Riker noticed then that he was holding a metal tube in his hand, probably a piece of the debris they had been hiding behind. “Just wait for it to get close enough.” Worf said with a look on his face that was one of almost pure rage.

“You’re not thinking about doing what I think you are?” Riker asked incredulously, but in truth he already knew the answer.

And just as the robot reached the first pieces of rubble the crew were hiding behind Worf sprang into action. With one impossibly strong swing of his metal tube he knocked the hand that the robot was firing with to the side, shattering the weapon mounted on it in the process. But his feelings of triumph were short lived as the robot reached up and grabbed his throat with the other hand. Worf could feel the strength from his arms dissipating rapidly as the enemy was chocking the life out of him, threatening to snap his neck at any moment. And indeed the neck would have snapped under that mechanical strength had it been a lesser man in Worfs position.

But in the last second two phaser shots blew past Worfs ear, nearly taking it with them. Those two shots landed squarely in the robots face, blowing it into a million pieces. The pressure from its hand quickly faded and Worf soon found himself on his knees on the floor, gasping for air and clutching his throat. The robot was lying beside him, broken and destroyed with a small trail of smoke rising from the place its head had been a second ago.

“Thank you.” Worf managed to say between his gasps as Riker moved up to stand beside him.

“You’re welcome, but right now we need to get moving.” Riker said and helped the huge warrior back on his feet.

* * * *

“Are you sure you know where you’re going?” Morham asked as they walked down yet another one of the myriad of corridors on the ship.

“I normal cases yes,” Troi answered. “But it’s a little more difficult now that every other corridor is blocked by debris and some even leading straight into open space.”

And indeed, this must have been the third time already the three humans and the Protoss had to backtrack because the way before them had been blocked. Morham was starting to think that there might not even be a way to the shuttlebay, and that would really mean they were in trouble. They had already only narrowly avoided what looked like an enemy patrol by hiding in a Jeffery’s tube, and he had a feeling that the patrols weren’t exactly diminishing as time went by. Although he had to suppress a chuckle when he remembered the look on the Protoss face as he was crammed into that cramped space.

“The corridor ahead is clear.” A voice seeming to come from thin air said. Then the spot the voice had originated from shimmered and rippled for a while to recede and reveal Fitch standing there.

The fact that he could make himself virtually invisible for short periods of time made Troi and Morham more then a little uneasy. At one point Morham had even thought that the Ghost had up and abandoned them. Although he had to admit that Fitchs ability to scout ahead undetected was a definite advantage in their current predicament.

Normally Morham would also have been able to use his suit to look for signs of movement and life, but whatever was interfering with the communications was also messing with his short range sensors so that they made neither head nor tales.

“Fine, were moving on then.” Troi said and started walking towards the bend in the corridor. But when they came to it she bumped straight into something coming around it from the other way. Morham and Fitch both instinctively lifted their guns to point at whatever it was that had blocked Trois path.

“Hey, easy there,” A startled Geordi said as he looked down the barrels of two huge rifles. “It’s just me!”

Morham and Fitch lowered their guns and relaxed once more. “The corridor ahead is clear, eh?” Morham said with sarcasm and looked at Fitch. He just stared back, and if he even cared about Morhams discontent he didn’t show it.

“What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be at the shuttlebay by now?” Troi asked Geordi, ignoring the two squabbling Confederates.

“I stayed behind to see that the self-destruct sequence started up alright,” Geordi started. “The rest of the crew in the engineering bay went on before me, but when I was finished with my diagnostics I couldn’t find them anymore. I’ve been wandering the ship trying to find a way to the shuttlebay, but so far I’ve had no luck.”

“You’re in the same situation as us then.”

“It would seem so,” Geordi said. “But I think this corridor will lead us to the right place. I crawled here through an access tube just up ahead. I only turned back to take a look when I heard voices.”

“You didn’t think that giving some warning before popping up in front of us would have been appropriate?” Fitch asked.

“And giving away my position if it turned out you were a group of those robots that boarded the ship? No thanks, I’ve seen some of the people they’ve left behind them.”

“Oh come on, we’re wasting time. The least you could do is keep moving while you’re arguing.” Troi said and started down the corridor again.

The other four followed and they walked on for some time in silence.

Thalas hadn’t said a single word since they’re initial meeting in the sickbay and seemed quite removed from the whole scene around him. But in truth, he was probing the space around him with his psychic power constantly, trying to locate someone else that was still alive, but so far he had had no luck. He hadn’t even been able to detect Geordi when he bumped into them.

They came across a place littered with the bodies of dead Enterprise crewmen and a few destroyed robots. Troi shifted through the remains to see if anyone was still alive, but she had no such luck.

“Everybody be quiet, I think I hear something approaching.” Fitch said suddenly. He turned his cloak on and rushed to a junction in the corridor so he could get a better look of things.

The others started falling back down the corridor but soon broke into a run as they could see something that looked like a wheel come rolling down from one of the other corridors intersecting with this one. The wheel like object stopped and then it seemed to unfold into something completely different, something skeletal and very dangerous looking. A creature with four legs, two arms and a head. Then when it was fully deployed a blue bubble shot up around it, a bubble that Morham thought awfully familiar. They didn’t have the luxury of studying it any further though as it started spewing out fire in a rapid pace from the twin weapons mounted directly into both its arms. The foursome did all they could just to duck behind a piece of collapsed roof to avoid being blown to pieces.

The robot soon stopped firing, and instead a clanking noise could be heard. Like spidery legs made of metal slowly walking towards them. Morham decided to use this break in its attack to get in a short burst from his rifle. Troi and Geordi had to cover their ears just so they wouldn’t go deaf from the sound. But much to Morhams disappointment the gunfire had no effect on the robot, the bullets were repelled harmlessly of the blue bubble and he could hear the sound from the bullets as the ricocheted off the walls and ceiling. But more alarming then his ineffective weapon was the five other robots he could see walking around the bend. At least they were of the bipedal model.

“I don’t think you’ll be able to hurt it with that rifle.” Geordi said once Morham ducked down behind the cover, narrowly avoiding another volley of fire from the robot.

“Oh, and I suppose your toy guns will be able to?” Morham spat back.

“Yes, they’re a lot more powerful then your outdated pop gun!” Geordi said with an irritated voice.

Morham knew of course that he was telling the truth. During his short stay aboard the Enterprise he had inspected their weaponry and found them to be quite effective despite their fragile look. He was just about to ask to borrow Trois rifle, when he saw one of the weapons of a previously destroyed robot lying on the floor just beside him.

He swung his own weapon back over his back and fastened it there, it might be outdated he thought, but it was still his Bertha, and he wasn’t about to give up on her just yet. “I bet you these things pack even more of a punch.” He said and picked up the relatively small weapon lying on the floor beside him.

A few seconds later the robots eased off their fire once more, giving Morham an opportunity to try out his new toy. He got off three shots before he had to duck down behind cover again. Two of the robots were destroyed, but the spidery one didn’t even seem affected by it.

“This isn’t working,” Morham said. “We need to hit them with something a little more powerful.”

He looked at the Protoss and an idea came to him. “Can’t you use your brain power to zap them like you zapped my Sergeant?” He asked.

“No, my mind storm only works against living targets with actual minds. Not against mechanical abominations like these. But I think I can help you.” The Protoss said. “When I tell you too, all three of you should get up from behind cover and open fire.” The Protoss said and closed his eyes.

“And just hope we all won’t get shot in the process?” Morham said, but by now he was willing to try anything.

Then suddenly they heard the sound of even more gunfire from further down the corridor. It sounded almost like phaser fire. So when the Protoss finally said it was time they didn’t hesitate. What they found when all three of them got up from behind cover was something quite unexpected. A detachment of Federation security officers were firing at the robots who in turn had turned around to meet this new threat, providing Morham, Troi and Geordi with perfect targets. They opened fire and soon the only robot still standing was the skeletal one. Its shields didn’t seem the least bit affected by even the concentrated fire from all the others.

Then suddenly the security officers that had come to the rescue vanished, into seemingly thin air. Morham blinked once, but somehow they had completely dissipated, not leaving the slightest of trails behind them, it was as if they had never even been there.

“You should get down now.” Thalas said even as the remaining robot began slowly turning around to face the trio again. They didn’t argue with that and got down just in time for the entire area to be bombarded from its weapons fire once more.

“Would someone care to explain what just happened?” Geordi asked, almost shouting as the sound from the explosions all around them tried to drown out the sound of everything else.

“It was a simple illusion. I created it to distract the enemy long enough for you to thin out their numbers. However I’m afraid that that was all I had to give. I still feel quite drained from my captivity and I need to rest to recover my strength.” The Protoss said with a voice that seemed a little stretched.

“A nifty trick to keep up ones sleeve,” Morham said. “If we get out of this alive you’re going to have to tell me all about the rest of your little tricks.” But just as he finished, the area where the robot was standing was covered in a bright blue flash of light and the sound of what sounded like sparks and crackle could be heard.

The fire ceased and so Morham risked taking a look at what was going on. The entire area in front of them was filled with what looked like blue electricity shooting back and forth in the air, with the robot standing disabled in the middle of it all. “Another one of your little tricks?” Morham said with a sarcastic voice and looked down at Thalas.

“No, this trick was mine.” He heard a voice in front of him say. He turned just in time to see Fitch drop his cloak again. Fitch saw the questioning looks on the others and knew an explanation was in order. “Specially designed bullets, given only to Ghosts. As they explode they create an EMP field around them, disabling anything technological inside it. The ammo costs a fortune but I thought this was an appropriate time as ever to use it. Now if you wouldn’t mind destroying the thing before the EMP field dissipates.”

Morham didn’t need any further convincing. He pointed his newly acquired rifle at the robot and pulled the trigger, launching three bolts of energy that completely shattered the fiend as they connected with it.

“I have a hard time believing that weaponry as primitive as yours would be able to disable that thing.” Geordi said.

“Well, the shots were originally meant to disable tanks and things in that size. And like I said, they’re extremely hard to make. It’s not easy to come by khaydarian crystals pressed into a perfect liquid state and having just the right elements to power a blast like that.”

Geordi seemed a little perplexed by the mention of khaydarian crystals. “You’re going to have to tell me everything about these crystals once we get to safety.”

“Right, but now we better get moving before anyone else gets here.” Fitch said and started down the hall once more.

The others got up from behind their cover and quickly moved to follow. But this turned out to be a mistake they would all live to regret; well all except one would live to regret it in any case. As they ran past the rubble that was the destroyed robots, Morham thought he saw a slight movement in the corner of his eye. But when he turned to look it was already too late. One of the robots, although having its lower body completely crushed, was apparently still able to function. It pointed its blaster at the nearest target, and then it pulled the trigger. Morhams own blast blew its head apart a mere fraction of a second later, but it was too late.

They all looked back in horror at the slumping form of Deanna Troi. She fell down to her knees, with a pleading look in her eyes.

Fitch ran over to her and caught her in her arms just before she fell over backwards. “I… I’m… Sorry.” She stammered, blood spluttering from her mouth as she tried to talk. The shot had pierced one of her lungs and melted everything in that area of her body.

“Don’t try to talk, we can still get you to safety, we just need to find the doctor. She said herself that your medical technology is nothing short of miraculous.” Fitch said in a steady and unmoved voice, as he examined the wound.

Geordi, who had been a long time friend of Deannas could do nothing but stand there and watch as her life slowly slipped away. Why he wasn’t able to move, or even speak, he couldn’t say. It wasn’t as if he hadn’t seen death before.

“No… there’s no… time.” Deanna continued. “You need to… to… go on… but first… let me give you this…”

She reached up to touch Fitchs forehead with one hand.

Feelings and emotions had never been that strong in Fitch, this was due to his mental training, brainwashing and all the drugs he had been forced to take during his entire life. Something every Ghost was forced to do. Sure he could still feel, but never anything too strong. An unfeeling assassin is an efficient assassin as the creed went. So before this, feelings hadn’t been that much of a problem for him.

A sharp burning sensation filled his mind as Deannas hand connected with him. It was like a blinding light, searing his senses, threatening to overload every single one of his senses all at once. Then, as Deanna let go and fell back dead to the floor, a different sensation overtook him. Just as overpowering as the one before, but different. It was like hate, anger, love, sadness, regret, joy and happiness, every single feeling he knew how to feel all at once, but so strong that he couldn’t deal with them, he didn’t know how. And so he fell limp to the ground, to lie beside the dead form of Deanna Troi. He didn’t know it yet, but he had just been given the greatest gift anyone in his position could ever receive. He had gotten his humanity back.

“What’s going on here?” Morham shouted and ran up to the both of them. Troi was obviously dead, as he could feel no pulse on her. But Fitch was still alive as well as conscious, yet he didn’t say anything or move at all.

“What’s the matter with you?” He shouted and smacked Fitch in the face to try to get some kind of reaction. But none was forthcoming.

“Damn, this is not the best time to be doing this.” He said quietly and wondered what he should do now.

Geordi, finally roused from his shocked self, knelt down beside Troi, looking into her lifeless eyes. “I always knew I might end up looking at one of my friends lying dead before me, but I didn’t know it would feel like this.” He said as the tears started welling from his eyes.

Morham felt sorry for the Starfleet officer, but he also knew they didn’t have time for any further delays. “Come, we must go, there’s nothing more we can do here.” He said and put his hand on Geordis shoulder.

“I know, but we can’t just leave her here.” Geordi said and tried to pick her up.

But Morham was quick to stop him. “We don’t have the time. She’s already dead, and if we take her along she will slow us down too much.” Geordi knew what he was saying was true, but he still had trouble letting go.

“Now come on,” Morham said as he hoisted the paralyzed Fitch up on his back. “We have to keep moving.”

* * * *

The rest of the trip for Morham and those accompanying him went by without any further complications, and soon they found themselves standing in the shuttlebay.

Captain Picard and the rest of the bridge crew were already there, hurrying about, preparing three of the shuttles for launch.

Picard moved over to them as soon as he noticed the foursome. “We were all beginning think you weren’t going to make it.” Picard greeted them with a warm smile, but when he saw Fitch thrown over Morhams back his smile quickly faded. “What happened to him?” He asked as he motioned for a few crewmembers to come help with the obviously wounded man.

“I uh, I don’t know, he’s alive and all but he’s just not responding to anything.” Morham said as he lowered him of his shoulder.

Riker, who was one of the men hurrying to help with Fitch quickly noticed that something else was wrong with this picture. “Where’s Deanna?” He asked and looked at Geordi.

“We… We were ambushed by a group of those robots… And… And we lost her during the battle.” Geordi explained, not daring to look into Rikers eyes while he did it. He knew the man loved Troi intensely, and news of her death would most likely not go over well with him.

“No, that can’t be.” Riker said, looking around the shuttlebay, hoping it was some sick and twisted joke. “Where is she? Why didn’t you bring her with you?” Riker demanded.

“There was no time, the ship is about to self-destruct and we had to get here in time, or else we would all be dead.” Morham tried to explain.

“What? You had time to carry him out of there, why him and not Deanna?!” Riker shouted, and Morham had to take a step back as he thought the man might attack him.

“Fitch is still alive, Deanna was not, there was nothing more we could do for her.” Morham said, trying to calm the man down.

“Then I’m going back for her! Where is she?” Riker demanded in a stern a voice as anyone had ever heard.

Picard, seeing the man’s obvious frustration, walked over and put a calming hand on his shoulder. “Number One, they did what they had to do. And there is nothing to be gained by you wandering of after her. You will have time to grieve, but it will have to be later, right now I need my first officer in his right mind and able to carry out my orders.”

“I… I suppose you’re right Captain. I’ll go see to the shuttlecrafts.” Riker said, standing still, staring into the floor for a while, and walked over towards the other crewmembers, who were currently removing some rubble that had fallen on one of the shuttles roofs.

“Do you think he will be alright?” Geordi asked as soon as Riker was out of hearing range.

“In time he will, but for now I think he needs to be on his own.” Picard replied, as he watched the man moving away from them.

A few minutes later everything was set and everybody was ready to depart. They set out in three shuttles. The Captain and Worf along with a few other in one vessel, while the guests were all put into another along with Data, and the rest crammed into a third.

They powered up the shuttles and exited the tumbling Enterprise, avoiding a few bits of debris that were floating around outside the shuttlebay and then they turned around to head for the Republic fleet. Up in the distance they could see the small specks that were the escape pods already flying towards the Republic ships with Cartaines nimble fighter keeping watch over them.

It didn’t take long for the shuttles to reach the much slower moving escape pods. But as they looked back towards the broken Enterprise they couldn’t but feel a tinge of sadness. The ship wasn’t more then a year old and in a moment the self-destruct would initiate and that would be the end of it.

But a moment passed, and then another. “Shouldn’t the Enterprise have self-destructed by now?” One of the crew in Picards shuttle asked.

“Yes, it should have.” Picard said quietly. “They must have found some way to disable the encryption.”

“But that’s not possible, the computer core is heavily defended by all sorts of security measures.” Worf said.

“Yes, but then again we have no idea what these aliens are capable of either.” Picard said and turned to look at the huge vedge shaped ships growing larger in the distance.

Would the Federation be drawn into yet another war, just because of the Enterprise? The Captain wondered silently.

Very nice! I'll be sure to keep following this fic!

I've lost patience with this last chapter of my story. I've tried to rewrite it a few times but no matter what i do i can't seem to get it right. So i'll just post it now so i can move on with the story.

I've started thinking about rewriting the entire story at some point, as there are alot of things that i feel could have been done better and stuff that i'd like to add. So i might go for a rewrite of this chapter at the same time.

If you can think of ways to improve the chapter don't be afraid to post it. Your comments will no doubt help once i do the rewrite. Actually any comments at all would be apprechiated, i'm starting to get the feeling no one is reading this thing.


Chapter 7: Passage to Safety

”Glad you could join us,” Cartaines familiar voice echoed over the speakers as Picard’s shuttle moved to join the convoy of escape pods heading for the relative safety of the Republic ships. “I was starting to think that you wouldn’t make it.” He added in a cheery tone.

“Yes, it seemed that way for a moment.” Picard replied over the comm, his voice barely audible. His mind was still trying to grasp everything they had lost during the day. More then a third of his crew had been badly injured or killed during all the disasters following their entry into the anomaly. And that’s not even mentioning the loss of the Enterprise itself.

“There was more then a little bit of luck involved.” He finally added, as the ensuing silence from his first response was becoming a little awkward. He had to remind himself that things could have ended a lot worse. They could all be dead right now.

The escape pods had been traveling towards the Republic flagship for some time already, but as their sublight speeds weren’t among the fastest the Federation had to offer they were still some distance away. Picard’s shuttle, as well as the two others following it, had been able to catch up with the convoy in a matter of minutes, and they were currently holding defensive positions at the edges of the long line of escape pods, ready to intercept any threat that they might run into.

“Have there been any indication that the enemy might try to attack the escape pods?” Picard asked, fearing that protecting them would become quite the problem if the enemy decided to send a squadron of their fighters to eliminate them.

“Nothing so far,” Cartaine replied. “But we’re still some distance away from the actual fighting, they might not even have noticed us yet. I’d advise you to stay cautious as we might get drawn into the middle of a dogfight between Republic and Separatist forces unintentionally once we get closer to the Republic ships. Heck we might even take some friendly fire from the point defense lasers if we’re really lucky.”

Picard didn’t really appreciate Cartaines try at humor during this dark moment, but he soon found that to be the least of his problems. “Captain, I have detected a detachment of five fighters on an intercept course with the convoy.” Worf said, anger clearly evident in his voice.

Picard nodded and opened a comm channel to Cartaines fighter. “We have detected five ships heading towards us, are they part of the Republic or Separatist forces?” Picard asked, hoping for once that the news would be good.

“I have them on my scope, three vulture droids and two droid tri-fighters,” Cartaine paused to recheck his sensors. “I’m afraid that would mean they’re hostile.” He added grimly once the truth became apparent.

“Is there no way to reason with them? They won’t attack unarmed escape pods, will they?” Picard asked.

“Reasoning with a bunch of droids designed specifically for combat?” Cartaine echoed incredulously. “You saw what they did to your ship back there, the only thing the Separatists seem to understand is brute force. Fighting them is the only option I’m afraid.”

“I was hoping you wouldn’t say that,” Picard replied, pondering what to do next. “Very well, if we have to fight I think the best course of action is to head towards them and try to engage them before they reach the convoy. Those escape pods have no chance of dodging fire at close range.”

“I agree, breaking to attack now.” Cartaine said and veered of to head towards the approaching enemy, without giving Picard so much as a chance to elaborate on his plan.

“What does he think he’s doing?” Picard asked. “He knows we won’t be able to follow him at that speed, he’s going to be on his own when he first engages the enemy.”

“He is either a fool or one of the most courageous men I have ever met.” Worf said, a slight hint of appreciation evident in his voice.

“Let’s hope the latter.” Picard said while opening a channel to the two other shuttles with him to inform them of the situation.

Soon the three Federation shuttles headed up by the Jedi Starfighter started closing in on the enemy, the anticipation growing with every second as the space between the two groups lessened. They all knew what was at stake here, if so much as one of the fighters got through their lines they could easily destroy a handful of escape pods before they could be re-engaged and smashed.

“Cartaine will be in firing range any second now.” Worf reported, watching his instruments vigilantly.

And then the firing started as both the Jedi and the five enemy vessels opened fire simultaneously. For the people in the Federation shuttles the situation seemed hopeless for the lone Jedi Starfighter. Nothing could possibly evade such a massive concentration of fire.

Or so they thought.

Even as Cartaine’s fighter managed to bend and turn with impossible perfection to avoid every single enemy bolt of fire, he himself managed to take out two fighters with his own fire. The ships exploded in two brilliant balls of fire, their shapes reduced to nothing more then the odd part of free-floating debris.

“But that’s impossible!” Worf blurted when he realized what had just happened. “No one could possible evade that!”

“It would seem as if the man is either a very lucky fool, or an exceptionally skilled and courageous fighter pilot,” Picard said with a smirk. “And with what I just saw I’m starting to think he’s the latter.”

Picard quickly reminded himself of the dire situation though and refocused his attention. “We can’t afford to loose our concentration now, we still have three more fighters to destroy. Tell the two other shuttles to pick their targets. As soon as they are in range we open fire, and we won’t stop firing until the enemy is destroyed.”

“Aye, sir.” Worf obediently replied, relaying the orders.

“Any idea on how our shields will hold their fire, or how they will hold our fire?” Picard asked.

“I can’t say for certain, sir.” Worf replied. “But I’m guessing we will be able to take only a few of their blasts before our shields fail. And as for them, they don’t seem shielded at all, so destroying them should not take that much fire.”

A few more seconds passed and then it was the Federals turn to test themselves against the robotic enemy. The weapons on the shuttles were far less powerful then the energy weapons the people of this reality used, but they did have one major hold over the Separatist fighters. There was no lag between the firing and the hits were instantaneous, without any lag, making the enemies agility virtually meaningless. And agility seemed to be something the enemy relied heavily on, seeing as how they didn’t bother with shielding for their fighters.

The first lances of phaser fire connected with the droid fighters at the same time the first blasts from the enemy impacted the shields on the shuttles. Picard had to cover his face as sparks flew from failing consoles and instruments inside the shuttle, threatening to blind him, but Worf managed to keep on targeting and firing throughout the entire process. The fire exchange lasted no longer then a second, but in that time the Federals had been able to destroy two of the intercepting fighters.

But that meant one had slipped past their lines.

“Turn the shuttle around!” Picard shouted. “We need to finish the last one before it reaches the escape pods!”

But it was already too late. They would never be able to catch the much faster droid fighter now that it had cleared their defensive line.

Their hopes now lay with a lone Jedi Starfighter, zipping past them once more, heading for the renegade fighter. Picard could feel his heart beating in his chest, threatening to tear itself free as he watched the two fighters.

They fired at precisely the same time, the Jedi Starfighter and the Vulture droid. Picard watched in horror as three vessels were destroyed and shattered into a million pieces. One of them was the enemy fighter, but two were part of the escape pods that had left the Enterprise.

Two pods filled with members of his crew.

“This cannot be happening.” Picard said and buried his face in his hands.

Beside him Worf was fuming. Killing unarmed people was not his idea of honor, not even close. And from what he had seen today, these Separatists had no honor whatsoever.

“Well, we can’t stay here any longer, we must keep moving.” Picard said, still not raising his head to look at the grim scene outside. “Take up defensive positions around the convoy again, and make for the safety of the Republic ships.”

And so, the long line of vessels started moving once again. Edging closer to safety with each passing moment.

The full scale of the space battle going on between the Separatist and Republic fleets became a little clearer to the crew of the Enterprise as they neared the Republic ships. From a distance the huge ships had been no more then a few specs on the viewscreen, the fighters tumbling around them barely visible, and the fire from their guns no more then colored streaks flying through space. But now that they could actually see the fire rip through the massive ships and the smaller ships being decimated by the dozens the reality of it all became quite clear. In Federation space an engagement like this would have been considered a major one, but from Cartaines attitude it was clear that they considered this no more then a skirmish.

Picard could also see that the battle between the two forces had steadily been degrading into chaos, as there were no visible formations or battle lines left and the ships seemed to be scattered all over the nearby space. The burning hulks of a few of the larger ships were also visible here and there, floating aimlessly through space.

The Captain counted eight of the Republic vedge type ships that seemed to make up most of the Republics fleet, with the one they were heading for being the most heavily defended with four other ships like it in defensive positions all around it. There were also a multitude of Separatist ships out there that were taking on the vedge type ships in groups of three or more, but they still seemed to have a hard time making any progress. Their strategy seemed to be to separate the Republic ships from the main group and then pound on them until they were destroyed.

The comm systems on the Federation ships came alive then, with the voice of someone identifying himself as the docking officer aboard the ship they were heading for. He said that they were clear to proceed to the ventral docking bay. Though which side was up and which one down on the ship wasn’t all that apparent to the Enterprises crew at first. But Cartaine showed them the way by taking point with his fighter.

As the convoy came closer and closer to the massive opening on the downward side of the Republic ship, they could see a throng of people milling about inside the cavernous docking bay. There was also a great deal of fighters docked along the sides. The ship was quite obviously designed for one thing and one thing only, war.

The pods entered the bay and gently touched down on the hangar floor, one by one, slowly filling up the bay.

Then gradually they all started exiting their pods and shuttles, taking a few cautious steps out onto the unfamiliar deck. Picard was one of the first ones to do this and what greeted him was something he hadn’t quite expected. The aliens that had appeared as little more then bipedal specs during their ascent were actually humans. Well, at least most of them were.

Picard surmised that the larger part of them were docking bay personnel. As they were mostly concerned with the fighters and various other equipment parked there. But there were also others there, people wearing a sort of white full body armor, armed with rifles similar to those the robots had carried during their boarding. And in the middle of those white clad figures stood a man wearing a gray uniform that had a very militaristic look to it. It actually reminded Picard of the uniforms a certain German faction had used back on Earth during the second world war.

“I don’t like the looks of this.” Worf said as he moved up to stand beside his Captain. Picard couldn’t but agree with that sentiment, although he could certainly understand the reasons for the Republic being so cautious with them.

“Well, whatever their intentions are, I think we better go introduce ourselves.” Picard said and started walking towards the man in gray. Guessing that he was the man sent to greet them. Worf, Riker and Data followed close behind.

Soon they stood face to face, the Captain and the Republic officer, eyeing each other cautiously. Picard decided to be the one to speak up first so he could offer his thanks for the Republics help. “My name is Jean-Luc Picard,” He started. “And I was the Captain of the ship the Separatist attack-”

“Your name and rank is not important right now,” The officer interjected before Picard could finish. “What is important is that you follow me to a more secure location. Admiral Roth has still to decide weather you can be trusted or not, and he’s a little busy at the moment so that will have to wait.”

“Of course,” Picard said, a little irritated at the man’s disrespectful manner, but full well understanding the reason behind it. “We will do as you as wish until we can properly explain our side of things.”

“Hey!” A man shouted as he came running up to the small group. “You didn’t start without me did you?” He asked with a grin on his face.

Picard recognized the man’s voice as Cartaines, the one who had arranged for their rescue. And the fact that not everyone onboard the ship was as cold towards them as the officer who had been sent to greet them was a little reassuring.

“It’s good to finally meet the man who arranged for our safe passage.” Picard offered with a genuine smile.

“Well, that’s what Jedi do, I can’t imagine master Yoda being too happy if I reported that I’d left you behind. What with the force telling me not to and all.”

“The Force?” Picard asked, not even understanding half of what the man was talking about.

“Look, the introductions will have to wait for another time. I’m under orders to escort these men off the hangar deck as soon as possible.” The man in uniform said to both Picard and Cartaine.

“Right, we wouldn’t want to be unaccommodating during our initial meeting,” Picard said, with a hint of sarcasm noticeable in his voice. “Lead the way.”

The Uniformed man turned around and started off towards the nearest exit, with the white armored men herding Picard’s crew to follow.

* * * *

“Sir, Lieutenant Brennan reports that the strangers are being escorted off the hangar floor.” Said a non-descript crewman standing behind Admiral Roth on the bridge of the Venator-class attack cruiser.

“Did they cause any trouble?” Roth asked absently, his focus more on the chaos raging on outside.

“No, they were very cooperative, and the Jedi Cartaine seems to trust-“ The man continued but was quickly cut of by a very angry Admiral.

“I’m not interested in what Cartaine thinks of them!” He shouted at the crewman who was taken aback by the Admirals sudden change in demeanor. “The Jedi council hasn’t deemed him experienced enough to give him control of this fleet yet, and as such I’m the ranking officer here and I’m the one who decides who can and can’t be trusted.” He said with a slightly more calmed voice, although his visage remained as stern as ever.

“Yes Sir.” The crewman said with a trembling voice.

“Good,” Roth said, finally calming down. “Now go back to whatever you were doing. I’ll question the survivors when we’re on our way back to Coruscant.” He waved the crewman away.

Damn those Jedi, the Admiral thought. You could never get a moments peace with them around. And the worst thing about them was that they were in charge of the military, and not people like the Admiral who had actual combat training and experience. “No wonder we haven’t beaten the Separatists yet.” He mumbled under his breath.

“What’s the status on the hyperdrives?” Roth asked, trying to get his focus back on the more urgent situation. Another four hyperdrives had gone down soon after the first five had malfunctioned, leaving the fleet utterly stranded. The culprits had been captured and promptly dealt with but the damage had already been done.

“Six of them are already repaired, our own among them, with another three ready any moment now.” A reply came from the crew pit.

Finally some good news, Roth thought. The only thing that bothered him was that the crewman who had just given him the status report obviously wanted them to leave now and leave the rest of the fleet to their own luck. During his command he had learned to read his men very efficiently, perhaps a little too well sometimes. “Then we can begin clearing the battlezone. Have all remaining ships form up with our group and head for the edge of the engagement zone as soon as possible. When we’ve cleared the last of the Separatists, we can make the jump to hyperspace.” Roth ordered.

“Sir! The Victor is about to go critical!” An alarmed voice shouted.

Roth promptly turned his attention back to the screen closest to him. The one with the ship positions and the general status of the fleet displayed on it. The Victor had been separated from the main group a while ago and had been under constant fire ever since. The Admiral had hoped to somehow get it back under the protection of the rest of the fleet, but that notion was apparently moot now.

A few seconds later a bright flash could be seen in the distance, the flash from the Victor going critical and exploding in a brilliant ball of fire and destruction.

Silence settled on the bridge as everyone realized that yet another ship and its entire crew were no more.

“Are you picking up any escape pod transponders?” Roth asked, but he already knew the answer. There had been no time to evacuate, and even if they had done it the pods would most likely have been picked off one by one by the ships surrounding it once they separated from the main ship.

“No sir,” A crewman said. “Not one.”

“Damn! How long until we’re cleared to jump?”

“We will reach the edge of the engagement zone in approximately three minutes.”

“Good, will the ships separated from our main group be able to make it there in that time?”

“Yes, sir. Assuming they don’t come under to heavy fire during that time.”

All in all this engagement had gone far better then the Admiral had hoped possible. His new crew had performed splendidly under the circumstances and they had even been able to disable a large number of enemy craft. The Separatists had no doubt considered this a sure win, and now it almost seemed like the Republic fleet had come out on top.

Almost.

The minutes passed as the huge hulks of the Venator-class cruisers made full burn towards the edge of the engagement zone, leaving the far slower Separatist vessels behind.

Cheers and roars erupted all over the ship when they finally reached their destination and the stars in front of them became nothing more then streaks of light as the ship proceeded down that familiar blue tunnel of hyperspace.

* * * *

A while later Picard found himself standing in a barren hallway, just outside a conference room he had been told to visit.

“Enter.” He heard a voice say from inside the room.

The rest of his crew were still held under armed supervision in a not so comfortable room, large enough to just barely fit them all inside. The wounded had been escorted to the medical facilities aboard the ship though, the Republic might have their misgivings about who the Enterprises crew really were but they were still willing to give them medical help even if it turned out they were on the Separatist side.

Picard straightened his uniform and composed himself as well as he could, he knew that whether he and his crew would be treated as guests or prisoners would very likely hang on this one conversation with the Admiral of the Republic battle group.

The door separating the hallway where Picard was standing and the conference room where the voice had come from slid open with a slight hiss. Picard took a deep breath and stepped inside. He had been expecting to find the Admiral there, alone, but as it was he was also accompanied by the Jedi who had saved them and another man in the standard gray uniform the Republic employed. Most likely the Captain of the vessel he was aboard, Picard correctly guessed.

“Ah, there he is, the famous Jean-Luc Picard, if I remembered the name correctly.” The Admiral said in a grand and slightly sarcastic way, and looked to Cartaine for confirmation. All he got in response was a slight nod from the Jedi.

“Before you say anything I’d like you to look at this whole incident from my perspective. Just so you can appreciate the situation I’m currently in.” The Admiral started. “Here I am, with my battlegroup who nobody is supposed to know about, and yet we are suddenly attacked by enemies who know exactly when and where to strike. Not only that, but there is a multitude of saboteurs aboard who promptly disable our hyperdrives so we can’t escape. Then, a strange ship appears, supposedly out of nowhere, right on the outskirts of the soon to be battlefield. The ship of course says that it’s damaged, and that it has no intentions to enter the battle at all, but then suddenly changes the message to that of a plea for surrender.”

At this point the Admiral stopped his pacing and positioned himself directly in front of Picard, fixing the Captains gaze with his own. “If I’d been the Separatists I just might have used a similar ploy to smuggle spies and infiltrators aboard this ship.” He said sharply.

The two men stared at each other, neither blinking for a long moment. “Let me just make this perfectly clear to you. If my envoy to the Jedi council here wouldn’t had demanded your rescue I wouldn’t in a million years have stretched so much as a finger to lend you aid.” He finally said and with that he relented his gaze and started pacing around the room again.

Picard couldn’t help but take offence from the Admirals offensive stance. But at the same time he could understand the man, they were at war after all. And during war things like trust are quickly put aside for that of caution.

Picard looked to Cartaine for some sort of support but all he did was watch the two men. Apparently Picard was on his own now.

“I can understand your suspicions against me and my crew, but I assure you we are not working with the Separatists, in fact, our story is going to be a little more unbelievable then anything you might have already guessed about us.” Picard began.

“Oh? This should be interesting then, please go on.” The Admiral prompted.

What followed was a brief description of how the Enterprise had found itself in this strange new reality. The anomaly, the Confederate survivors, the sudden growth of the anomaly, everything was explained and laid bare.

At first Picard had wondered if this course of action would be a wise one. What would this Republic do once they found out about the link between the different universes. Would they become hostile? But all that was really moot, since the CIS had probably already figured out as much from the sensor logs of the Enterprise. And right now the Separatists seemed like more of a threat then the Republic.

“A different universe you say, or was it two?” The Admiral asked. “During the entire existence of the Republic no such event has ever been recorded. Do you seriously want me to believe what you are saying is true?”

“Admiral, if I may.” Cartaine interjected, drawing a very angry look from Roth, he didn’t like to be interrupted, especially by a happy-go-lucky Jedi know-it-all. “I know you have misgivings towards the Jedi and I can understand that. But if you just for once in your lifetime trust me then let it be now. What the Captain is telling you is the truth, this much the force has shown me. And it would also explain why I was so inexplicitly drawn towards their ship when I first noticed it.”

“The Force? Do you honestly think I will place my trust-“ Admiral Roth started, but was cut of by Cartaine before he could finish.

“Admiral, may I remind you of what the Jedi council has already told you.” He said. His patience with the grumpy old Admiral nearly gone.

Just after the retreat Cartaine had contacted the council on his own to ask their advice on the matter. They in turn had contacted the Admiral with explicit orders to bring the survivors back as guests to Coruscant as soon as possible, leaving absolutely no room for debate.

The fact that Cartaine had gone over him in the chain of command was enough to send Roth’s blood boiling. But that didn’t change the fact that his hands were tied. And that this meeting really wasn’t anything more then a chance for him to meet the strangers that the Jedi seemed so interested in.

And the explanation the survivors had given, that they were really from another reality wasn’t really as unbelievable as the Admiral had first made it seem. The story actually explained a lot of things that had been bothering Roth.

After their retreat from the CIS trap he had been studying his sensor logs, he wanted to know everything there was to know about the strange ship, and what he found was puzzling to say the least. Their shields, weapons and even their energy production was nothing like that of a standard Republic ship, or any ship he had ever heard of before. And this was beside the point that the ship had seemingly appeared out of nowhere, with no hyperspace signatures to be found anywhere.

But what really won the Admiral over was the fact that the Jedi had never lied to him. Not even once. Their view of the world might differ from his quite wildly at times, but the Jedi were truthful. At least those times they chose to actually say something instead of speaking in riddles.

“Fine, I guess I’ll have to believe you. But if you do anything even remotely suspicious I won’t hesitate to detain you for the rest of you trip back to Coruscant.” The Admiral said, his voice taking on a slightly more mellow tone.

“Then I and my crew are in your debt,” Picard said. “And if there is anything we can do to make ourselves useful during our stay, just tell us. It would be good for the men to get their minds of everything that’s happened.” Picard offered.

“No, you would probably only get in the way. If you really are from another reality, as you say you are, then you probably won’t know enough about anything to be able to help. The best thing for you to do is just sit tight until we reach Coruscant. The Jedi council and the Senate will decide what to you from there.”

“Coruscant?” Picard asked, having never heard of the place.

“Right, I guess you wouldn’t know about that either.” The Admiral said. “Coruscant is the capitol of the Republic and the larger parts of this galaxy.”

That revelation stunned Picard, a government that was in control of most of the galaxy? Even in his wildest dreams he had never thought such a thing possible. Most alien races were just too different from each other to ever be able to exist side by side with each other. Indeed the Republic had to be an old civilization if what the Admiral said was true. “But Admiral, surely you can understand that I and my crew would like to get back to our own reality as soon as possible. Is there no way-“ Picard started but was abruptly cut off.

“No way what? No way we can return to the same place that we just a minute ago escaped with our ships barely intact? No, there is no way. I can’t perform miracles and neither can my fleet. I’m afraid you’re stuck here until the next course of action can be decided, and that course can only be decided by the Jedi council.”

There was still a myriad of questions left in Picards mind. Questions like what the Jedi council was, or even a Jedi for that matter, they seemed to control a great deal of respect among the others. But from the resigned look on the Admirals face he knew that asking about such things would only agitate him further. And this was something he didn’t want.

“Fine, then we’ll wait and see what this council says.” Picard said.

“Good,” Roth said. “Then that’s one more thing I won’t have to worry about. You and your crew will be assigned proper quarters and given access to most of the ship. Just make sure you don’t go wandering off into some part where you don’t belong.” The Admiral concluded threateningly.

“I’ll make sure that won’t happen,” Picard said. “Now if you don’t mind, I better go deliver the news to the crew, they’ve been under a lot of stress lately, and they could do with some good news right about now.”

“Yes, we should arrive at Coruscant in a few days, we still need to stop on the way to make a few minor repairs,” Roth said. “Get some rest until then.” He added, in a little more sympathetic voice.

Picard nodded and turned to exit the conference room.

“Alternate realities, strange anomalies and who knows what else.” The Captain that had remained silent during the entire procedure burst as soon as Picard was out of the room. “Are we really supposed to believe all this?”

“Yes frankly, we are, there is enough physical evidence for us to at least give the Captain the benefit of a doubt. And more then that, I know it, due to my affinity with the Force.” Cartaine said, growing tired of the mistrust these two men harbored towards the survivors.

“Enough,” The Admiral said. “Our course has been decided, at least until we reach Coruscant, and after that things will no longer be in our hands. Arguing about this is pointless until then, as our opinions don’t really matter. Even if they are spies they won’t be able to do any harm here, not until we reach Coruscant.”

And with that, the argument was concluded. Both Roth and the ships Captain remained skeptical towards Picard’s explanation about them being from another reality, but since Cartaine had seen it fit to draw the Jedi into the whole thing, the Admiral’s hands were tied and he had no choice but to deliver them safely to the council.

* * * *

Later on, Captain Picard had the dubious pleasure of explaining the situation to the rest of the surviving crew of the Enterprise. Their rescuers would not be leading them back to Federation space. At least not right away. Instead they were now headed for the Republics homeworld of Coruscant, where their case would be decided on more thoroughly by the leaders of the Republic.

The news had gone over better then the Captain had expected. Finding yourself stranded in an alternate reality wasn’t exactly something you hoped for. But at least they were safe for the moment, and that was all most of the crew needed to know right now.

A few hours after that meeting, Picard found himself sitting alone in his new quarters. The room was a vast improvement from the one they had all just been crammed into, but still nothing like a Starfleet vessel. Not that he had expected anything different from a warship.

He was contemplating everything that had happened up to this moment, and what the consequences would be. What if the anomaly that connected the three (or possibly even more) realities was permanent. How would all these new governments and factions get along with each other? And what if it wasn’t permanent? Would the crew of the Enterprise ever get to return home to Earth?

“So many questions my dear Captain,” Picard suddenly heard a voice say from one of the corners of his room. He turned to see who had spoken and found a very unpleasant surprise lying there on his new bed. A man clad in a Starfleet Admirals uniform and wearing a mischievous smile on his face. A man Picard was all too familiar with. “Has anyone ever told you to just relax every now and then?”

“Q!” Picard burst, not really expecting this supposedly omnipotent being to drop in on him right now. But then again, why wouldn’t his eternal tormentor be there to gloat over his failure to protect the Enterprise.

“Yes Jean-Luc, it is I, the great and malevolent Q!” He said in a grand fashion, stretching out his hands wide in self proclamation. Picard could have sworn he heard the sound of trumpets coming from somewhere, but he saw nothing.

The Captain was hardly impressed with Q’s antics though. Too often had this ‘thing’ been meddling in the affairs of humans and the Federation, and always in a negative way. Picard slowly got up and walked over to the smug man, with a face of pure annoyance.

“What is it you want Q?” He asked, with a voice that demanded a good reason for his visit.

“Oh my, I would have hoped it would be quite obvious by now.” Q said with a disapproving look on his face. But as Picard said nothing Q decided to elaborate. He got up from the bed and started pacing around the room. “Don’t you think it’s strange that a bunch of inter-dimensional anomalies just suddenly appeared-“ Q started.

“A bunch? Are you telling me there are more of these gateways?” Picard hurriedly interrupted the demigod.

Q stopped in his tracks and looked at Picard. “Of course, you wouldn’t know about that quite yet now would you.” He said and lifted a finger to his lips, mimicking a thoughtful stance for a while. Then he started pacing again.

“Yes my nearly bald friend, there are more then the one with which you came here. Three to be precise, each placed at strategical locations as to guarantee maximum interaction between the three realities.”

“What do you mean ‘placed’?” Picard asked, but even as he uttered those words the full understanding of the situation gripped him. “Are you telling me that you’re the one responsible for everything that’s been happening here?”

“What? You thought that it was by chance that it was you who were sent to investigate the phenomenon? And that you just happened to encounter the survivors from the Koprulu sector? And that you just happened to get drawn into the anomaly accidentally to land in the middle of a heated space battle between the Separatists and Republic forces.” Q asked giving Picard an incredulous stare. “Oh please, I honestly thought you smarter then this Captain.” He added with a slightly more serious tone.

“Tell me you had nothing to do with what is happening here.” Picard said, his voice rising steadily, anger clearly visible on his face. “Tell me you had nothing to do with the people injured and dead because of the anomaly. Tell me you had nothing to do with the destruction of the Enterprise. And tell me you didn’t have anything to do with the death of Deanna Troi!” He screamed, as he finally lost his self-control.

“Oh but Captain, do try to behave yourself, that’s no way to treat a visiting God.” Q said simply.

“We both know that you are no God, and I swear I will make it my life’s purpose to find a way to hurt you, if you don’t tell me everything I want to know right now.” Picard said, his voice much lower now, but still carrying the same promise of doom as before.

“Alright, alright!” Q said, throwing his hand up in the air as a sign of resignation. “I’ll tell you everything you want to know.” He said and snapped his fingers.

A sharp light surrounded him as he disappeared from where he had just stood, and reappeared to stand behind Picard. But this time he was wearing a simple brown robe instead of his Admirals uniform and he was holding a small brown walking stick. Picard thought the robe bore a striking resemblance to the robe Cartaine had been wearing. And was it just his imagination or was the man green in his face?

“Have you ever thought about what it would be like to be omnipotent, with the ability to be everywhere, see everything and do anything?” Q started, in a much more serious voice this time. “I mean really thought about it.” He stressed.

“I can’t say that I have.” Picard replied simply.

“Then let me shed some light on the issue for you, dear Captain.” Q continued. “Imagine a small room, with no furniture and no nothing, just a simple room with four walls, a ceiling and a roof. Actually, I’ll help you imagine that.” Q said and snapped his fingers again.

Gone was the quarters he had been assigned to on the Republic ship, and instead he now found himself in a simple room, just like the one Q had just described.

“Now imagine being trapped in this room for all eternity, can you grasp the actual meaning of that phrase, for all eterni-” Q said, but was interrupted by Picard.

“So that’s your reason for all this, the reason for all the pain and all the death? You’re simply bored, and need something to spice up you lonely existence with, is that it?” Picard shouted.

“Bored?” Q said incredulously. “Oh no my dear Captain, the reason for all this is something far different then simple boredom, something you yourself have tried to explain to me countless times.”

“And what would that be?” Picard asked, his voice full of venom.

“Growth! My dear Captain.” Q said. “If all you have is your one room, and you know everything about it, how can you ever grow, expand, and learn new things. Self-Improvement Picard, that’s the reason behind all this. The same thing that drives your precious humanity!”

“And just how does the death of my crew and the destruction of the Enterprise help you grow?”

“Ever the same narrow minded creature aren’t you? But then why should I expect anything different from a mere mortal.” Q said. “This has nothing to do with you and your ship. Granted I find you fascinating, but destroying your puny ship hardly accomplishes anything. I did however choose you to be the first one to make contact with these new realities, based on that fascination. The loss of your ship is but of minor importance in the grand scope of things as you are but a grain of sand in a desert. Actually that’s understating it quite a bit.”

“This merging of realities is actually something we Q have been doing for a very long time already. Every now and then when we have reached a plateau in our learning we like to shake things up a bit. We do this by combining a couple of separate realities with each other, and then watching as you interact with each other. You should actually feel honored.”

“Honored?”

“Have you not noticed it yet? What’s the one thing that combines all three of the realities I have connected?” Q asked, but as Picard offered him no answer he decided to elaborate. “Humanity! That’s what! Humans exist in all three realities.”

“I don’t see how honoring humanity will bring Deanna Troi back.” Picard said evenly, not appreciating Q’s meddling in the least.

Q sighed, realizing that he wouldn’t be able to get through to Picard. “It won’t, but in time you will realize that what I’ve done here today is a good thing, as you precious humans will have the opportunity to become something so much more then you were before. Of course that all depends on you, as this whole scenario might also turn very bad, and not only for humans.” Q added in a warning voice.

“Is that all?” Picard asked, not wanting to have anything to do with Q anymore.

“Heed my words Captain Picard.” Q said. “Weather you want it or not, the universe has changed. Either you choose to make the best of it, or you burn alongside everything else in it. The choice is yours.” He added in an overly dramatic voice.

“Now I’m afraid I have somewhere else to be, things are starting to get interesting in other parts of this trinary reality, and I’d just hate to miss it.” And with that, Q disappeared once more with his trademark flash of light. Dropping Picard back in his quarters on the Republic ship.

“So that’s it.” Picard said, looking around his empty quarters. “We’re all here, dying for the enjoyment of a crazy begin with to much power and to little responsibility.”

* * * *

“Hey, I didn’t expect to find you here.” Morham said as he entered the room that had been set aside for Fitch.

“Yeah, I just figured that I should be here, seeing as how I was with him when he collapsed.” Geordi explained, caught a little off guard by the sudden appearance of the burly fighter. Although he seemed a lot less warrior like now that he had removed his powerarmor.

“Have the doctors been able to figure out what’s wrong with him yet?” Morham asked, sitting down beside the bed Fitch was lying on.

“No, neither the Starfleet doctors nor the Republic doctors have been able to find anything wrong with him. It’s as if he just suddenly decided not to move or speak.” Geordi said. “I’m actually a little surprised to see you here too, it seemed to me as if the two of you weren’t exactly on good terms with each other.”

“Yeah, to tell you the truth I’m a little surprised at finding myself here as well.” Morham said. “It’s just that Fitch and me are the only Confederates here, and I suppose that means we should look after each other. Besides, he’s saved my life twice already, I suppose I owe him this.” Morham explained.

They sat there, watching the unmoving man in silence for a few moments. “What do you think Deanna did to him to make him like this?” Morham finally asked.

“I honestly have no idea,” Geordi began. “I’ve never been that familiar with telepathy or empathic people, who knows what she did. It might not even have been intentional.”

“It was.” A deep voice behind the two said. Morham and Geordi both promptly turned around to regard the one who had spoken and were both a little surprised to find Thalas standing there. Gone were his old prison tatters and instead he now bore a majestic looking robe. Making him seem more imposing somehow.

“How can you be sure?” Morham asked, a suspicious look on his face. Everything that had happened after their arrival in these new realities had not made him forget what Thalas was capable of, or even that they were still technically enemies.

“Because when I feel his mind I can sense what he’s going through.” The Protoss explained and moved closer to the bed.

“Then what is it?” Geordi asked, not even pretending to understand what Thalas had just said.

“Fitch’s mind is in chaos as it has been introduced to a new element and he still doesn’t know how to deal with it.” The alien explained.

“A new element? What are you talking about? What’s this new element supposed to be?” Morham asked slightly agitated by the way the Protoss was speaking. Cryptic answers and riddles weren’t exactly his forte.

The Protoss just stood there, watching the catatonic man for a long while. “When the one you called Troi died, she gave him her own gift of empathic abilities. The ability to know what others feel, and feel it with them. But when that happened something else broke in Fitch’s mind. Earlier, I could sense no strong feelings from him whatsoever, but now I can feel nothing else. My guess is that whatever was blocking his feelings before has been unmade by Deanna’s gift. So now Fitch’s mind is desperately trying to come to turn with his past, re-living each memory and adding feelings to his experience to every event in his life. For someone who has done the things he has, this could prove to be too much.”

“His feelings have crippled him?” Geordi asked.

“For the moment, yes. Perhaps even for the rest of his life if his new self can’t come to turns with some of the things he has done in his past life.” Thalas elaborated. “But I sense his mind is strong, he will be able to pull through, but it will take some time.”

And with that, the huge figure turned and walked out of the room once more.

* * * *

That night Picard dreamt again.

He was standing on a long and narrow metal walkway, suspended high up in the air. He was leaning on the railing, looking out over the vast cavernous area surrounding him.

There was activity everywhere, as he could see small specks of what looked like people milling about all along the floors and walls of this place. Some where quietly walking along, minding their own business, while others were standing still, lined against walls. But why were they standing still?

No, Picard realized. They were not people, but Borg. He was inside a Borg cube again.

Picard could hear the faint beginnings of a whisper, a whisper that steadily grew, becoming louder with each passing moment, until it was more like the roar of a waterfall then a whisper. Picard tried to cover his ears to shield him from the noise, but the sound didn’t come from the outside, it was coming from inside his own head. Millions of voices issuing millions of orders, all inside his own head. Then all the voices suddenly united into one, uttering one sentence that drowned out all the others, a sentence Picard could hear as clear as day.

“Breach level event confirmed. Borg cubes dispatched to evaluate trans-dimensional species for assimilation. Initial findings promising. Further testing of species 9745 required.”

And with that Picard found himself wide awake once again. His chest heaving heavily as he tried to calm his panicked breathing.

There was no more doubt in his mind anymore. The Borg had discovered the trans-dimensional breaches, and they were planning to invade and assimilate those new realities.

Chapter 8: Arrival at Coruscant

Geordi LaForge sat at the small table in his temporary quarters, lost in his own thoughts as he was scribbling away on a small pad.

It had been four days now since he and the rest of the Enterprises crew had been forced to flee their ship and take refuge on the Stalwart, as the Republic Admirals ship was called. The majority of those four days had been spent standing still in space though, as a few of the ships in the Republic battle group had practically been falling apart after the engagement with the Separatists and wouldn’t have lasted the entire trip to Coruscant without tearing themselves apart in hyperspace. The purpose of the delay was of course to make a few minor repairs, just enough to enable the ships to continue their journey.

During this time most of the rescued crew had found something with which to occupy their time, as this new ship sported quite a few things you would never find on a Starfleet vessel, or any vessel in their own galaxy for that matter. Others had taken this time as a welcomed relief from all the troubles they had been through recently and just relaxed, not really caring what the next day brought with it. Of course there were also a scant few that had lost people close to them and now seemed only to slip deeper and deeper into depression because of this, William Riker being one of them.

“Damn!” Geordi quietly cursed to himself as he noticed a mistake in the calculations he had just made.

“Perhaps I can be of assistance?” A voice coming from right in front of Geordi said, startling the man and nearly making him fall from his chair.

“Whew,” Geordi said and calmed himself once he looked up and noticed who the voice had belonged to. “You should really learn how to knock Data. Sneaking up on people like that can have nasty consequences.” He added in a slightly irritated voice.

“But I did knock, and you told me to come in.” The android said with a dumbfounded expression, wondering if his positronic memory had developed some sort of a glitch. The self diagnostic he ran during the next few milliseconds told him otherwise though.

“Oh,” Geordi said, laughing to himself. “I guess I was just too lost in my work to even realize I did that.” He apologized, turning his attention back to the pad he held in his hand.

“If you don’t mind my asking,” Data interrupted. “What is it you are doing with that pad? You have been writing on it and performing calculations of some sort for the better part of this trip.” He asked curiously.

“Oh, this?” Geordi asked, handing the pad over to Data so he could look it over. “It actually started out as nothing more then a random thought I had about power armor, you know the kind that Morham wears. But ever since, the whole thing has grown and now it’s become nothing short of an obsession. I guess having nothing to do all day long can do that to you. You see when I saw Morhams armor for the first time I knew I could somehow change it, improve it so that it would work against phaser fire, making it usable for people employing energy weapons as well.”

“Creating phaser resistant personal armor has been attempted several times in the past, but the results have always been the same. The armor becomes to bulky to wear as it requires an extremely large amount of armor plating to be able to withstand a phaser set on maximum settings. And even then the cost of the armor was deemed to high to be used on a large scale.” Data replied in his usual matter-of-factly manner while skipping through the pages of Geordis pad. He was never-the-less intrigued by some of the things he found there.

“Yes, but that was before we came in contact with the Republic and the technology they employ.” Geordi explained excitedly. “Have you examined the armor the clone troopers wear?” Geordi asked, still a little unsure of how he should feel about an army consisting entirely of cloned humans.

“Nothing more detailed then a brief glance, they do not seem to be complex enough to warrant any in detail examinations.”

“But you have studied them enough to know that the material used in them is extremely resistant yet very light weight, beyond anything the Federation could create.”

“Yes, that much I have concluded.”

“Then what if you added the suit design of Morhams power armor with the plating the clone troopers use?” Geordi asked.

Data looked up from the pad with a thoughtful expression on his face, his android mind pondering the question for a moment. “Yes, that could actually yield positive results, as you would be able to wear a lot of the armor plating in a suit that has strength enhancing servos to help with the movement. And with the material the Republic uses as armor, the suit would be able to take at least one hit from a phaser on maximum settings.”

“Actually, if the calculations I’ve done are correct it would mean that the suit could withstand up to two or even three direct hits.” Geordi explained, pointing to the calculations he was been referring to.

“If this design works, it could mean a major strategic advantage for the Federation in any close combat situation.” Data said, going over the numbers to see if he could spot any discrepancies. “Neither the Klingons nor the Romulans have yet to create usable personal armor against energy weapons. And as far as Starfleet intelligence knows, neither have the Dominion.”

“And that’s not even the entire beauty of it, as the suit would also be able to give the wearer full protection against chemical and biological weaponry. I bet you could even make the suit able to function in the vacuum of space with a few minor tweaks.” Geordi went on explaining.

Data started to get very interested in the idea now, and as such he was thinking up a few other additions he would like to make. “Morhams suit also employs a sort of heads of display, with built in devices that measure the conditions of the outside environment, the status and health of the wearer as well as providing scans for life signs in the nearby area, and short range communications am I right?” Data asked.

“That’s right.” Geordi nodded.

“Well then we could further add to the functionality of that hud by basically giving it all the abilities of a tricoder, this would not only improve upon the already existant features but also provide a few new ones, such as in depth analysis of any foreign objects you come in contact with.”

“Yes, that could be most useful, and not only in combat situations.” Geordi agreed.

“And what about the chemical delivery system that is built into the suit? From what I’ve read on your reports on it, it can both add to the combat effectiveness of the unit by making the wearer more alert and more aggressive, eliminating fear. And if the user comes close to death it can administer some mild treatments that can help to maintain the life of the wearer.”

“Oh I don’t think the Federation would ever allow something like that, some of the side effects of using the delivery system are pretty horrific. Not to mention that the feature that helps to increase the combat effectiveness also deteriorates the general health of the user.” Geordi said. “Of course, Federations technology could probably eliminate those problems.” He realized.

“I have to admit that the concept of a powered armor consisting of hybrid technology is most interesting, have you given any thought to how you would actually create such a suit if it turns out the design is solid?”

“Well all I would need is a holodeck to design the suit, I could also perform the initial testing there. The biggest problem then becomes creating the real thing, as it would contain too much technology that isn’t readily replicatable in it, you would basically have to manufacture it the old fashioned way. Another problem would be to get the Republic to show us how to make the armor plating, and I don’t think we would be able to use those designs to create the armor with our current technology. And this isn’t even mentioning the power unit.”

“The power unit?” Data asked, not recalling it being mentioned before or documented anywhere on the pad.

“Morhams suit has a small power generator built into it, it’s just big enough to provide the movement to his suit and to power the circuitry in it. But I’m thinking that if you we’re to make a suit like this, why not go all in? We could try to get our hands on one of the Republics power generators, their smaller power generators are a lot more stable and powerful then anything the Federation has. The extra power would open many new doors.”

“Yes, the designs for a small power generator could be very valuable indeed. But it is highly unlikely that the Republic would be willing to depart with the plans for both the armor and the power unit without getting anything in return.” Data said, handing the pad back to Geordi, as he had already scanned the entire thing committing everything on it to his android memory.

When Geordi reached out to take the pad, he noticed something strange about Data’s arm. “I see they’ve replaced the arm you lost during the boarding.”

“Yes, the repairs took some time. Combining Federation technology with the Republic equivalent is very a very precise and fragile process.” He replied, looking at his new and slightly more metallic hand, clenching and unclenching it. Gone were the features that made the hand look human and instead it was a more a robot like appendage now. Not that Data minded it.

There was a chime from the door leading to the hallway. “Come in.” Geordi said and the door slid open. In stepped Captain Picard along with Morham.

“I was told I might find the two of you here.” The Captain said and walked over to Geordi and Data, Morham following close behind.

“The Stalwart and the rest of the Republic battle group will be arriving at Coruscant shortly and the Admiral has invited us to watch the descent to the planet from the bridge.” Picard explained with a smile spread across his face.

“Invited to the bridge?” Geordi echoed with a grin. “Why Captain, it almost seems as if the old Admiral is finally starting to trust us.”

“Yes, it would seem that way now wouldn’t it. Perhaps all the time I’ve spent with him these last few days, asking him about this galaxy and telling him about ours in return are finally starting to pay off.”

“Well that’s certainly good news,” Geordi said, but the mere mention of good news brought the bad news back to memory. Riker, who had lost his beloved Deanna Troi during the boarding hadn’t said as much as a word to him after their escape from the Enterprise. On closer thought Geordi couldn’t actually recall seeing the man too often since that tragedy.

He wrestled with the thought of asking Picard about him. It might not be a good idea to mention Riker now that everybody’s morals were up once again, but in the end Geordi just couldn’t restrain himself from asking the question. “How’s Riker holding up?” He asked. “I haven’t seen him all that much lately.”

Picards visage change noticeably, a moment ago he had seemed to be the same Captain they all had come to know and trust but now he was the brooding one they had encountered after the loss of the Enterprise again. There could be no doubt that with everything that had been going on lately he too had been greatly affected.

“He’s been staying in his quarters for the larger part of the trip,” Picard answered after a while, his voice a solemn one. “I’ve been to see him a few times and he keeps reassuring me that everything is alright and that all he needs is time. But truth be told…” Picard paused. “I’ve never before seen him like this before.”

“Well, I guess it’s not that strange when you take everything he’s been trough lately into consideration.” Morham offered, seeing how the thought of the Captains First Officer pained him.

“He’s agreed to join the rest of us on the bridge in any case, perhaps getting him out of his quarters will cheer him up a bit.”

“And what about Fitch? Has he been showing any signs of improvement?” Picard asked, directing the question to Morham who had seemed to spend a lot of time with the catatonic man.

“No, he’s still pretty much the same as he was when we left the Enterprise. But Thalas seems to think he will be alright.” Morham answered.

“Well, for what it’s worth I’m guessing Thalas is right, and that it holds true for both of them, eventually they will snap out of it. We just have to give them time.” Picard said with a slightly more upbeat voice, even feigning a little smile, trying to brighten the mood in the room a little.

“Anyway, you said you had been talking to the Admiral about their galaxy earlier, I’ve been going through the databanks myself, trying to get a better grip on the things around me. But most of the good stuff has been restricted, is there something you have learned that might prove useful?” Geordi asked.

“No, not really, just the basics, nothing you couldn’t find in any ordinary library I suspect.” Picard replied.

“What about this war they seem to be engaged in, did you learn anything about that?” Morham asked, not really interested but thinking that it might be something worth knowing.

“It’s more of a civil war then anything else, as the entire galaxy was previously under the rule of a single government - the Republic as it’s simply called. The Separatists, or the Confederacy of Independent Systems as they are also known as, are a collection of a few powerful organizations that used to belong to the Republic, operating and existing independently inside it. They seem to be at odds with some of the rules and regulations that the Republic has passed these last few years that severely limited their profits and as a result they geared up for war, thinking they could take control over the Republic that at the time didn’t have a large military. The plan backfired however and so the Clone Wars began.” Picard explained, the name of the war and the reason it was so named leaving a bad taste in his mouth. Growing clones and then sending them of to fight like they were nothing but trained animals was not something he wanted to see in the Federation.

“What about the Jedi? Where do they enter the picture?” Geordi asked, curious to know more about this strange religion that so many people seemed to look up to.

“The Jedi? To tell you the truth I know next to nothing about them, Admiral Roth seemed very reluctant to talk about them.” Picard explained, remembering the look on the man’s face when he had questioned him about the Jedi. “A few things I did manage to find out though. They seem to be some sort of religious order and their god is something they have termed ‘The Force’. This force is also what gives the Jedi their extraordinary abilities. Remember that little maneuver Cartaine did when the Separatist wing attacked our escape pods? Suffice to say that was not luck.”

Picard was about to go on but a beeping noise coming from his pocket interrupted him. “Ah yes, I think it’s time for our little trip to the bridge now.” He said and pulled out a disc like object that none of the others had ever seen before. The Captain pressed a button on the side of it and a holographic figure shot up from it. The rest of the people gathered in the room quickly identified the man standing there as Admiral Roth.

“Captain,” The holographic figure spoke. “We’re nearing Coruscant and are about to drop out of hyperspace. So if you and your men would like to accompany me on the bridge, now is the time.” He said with a courteous smile.

“We’ll be there shortly Admiral.” Picard said, returning the smile and feeling a little better now that he had managed to befriend the Admiral.

“Excellent! I’ve already sent someone to escort you, he should be there shortly.” The figure said. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I have some final approach protocols to go over.” And with that the holographic projection receded back into the disc.

“Handy little thing isn’t it?” Picard stated more then asked and slid the communicator back into his pocket.

“Indeed, their use of holographic emitters in a communications device is intriguing,” Data said. “But I have to wonder what practical use seeing a three dimensional image of the one you are talking to has, wouldn’t it just be easier displaying a normal two dimensional image instead?” He asked.

Picard smiled at the android, slightly amused by his observations, ever was he the practical one. “Yes well, necessary or not, we better get ready. Data, why don’t you contact the rest of my senior staff and tell them to meet us here.”

“Aye, Captain.” He said and tapped his more conventional comm device attached to his breast.

* * * *

Cartaine and Thalas were walking down a small corridor, slowly making their way towards the quarters that Captain Picard and the rest of his officers were supposed to be in. Admiral Roth had contacted him a minute ago, explaining that the Enterprises crew was welcomed on the bridge during their arrival at Coruscant and that Cartaine was to bring them there. The Jedi was a little surprised at first, he hadn’t thought the Admiral would so easily welcome the foreign crew on his bridge, but then again The Admiral and Picard had been getting along splendidly these last few days. No doubt in large part due to Picard’s excellent diplomatic skills.

But Picard and Roth weren’t the only ones who had had frequent conversations during the last few days in space. Cartaine and Thalas had also been discussion quite a few things. The reason for this being Thalas interest in the force. Apparently the mysterious power wasn’t present in the two other realities.

“I’ve been in this dimension for five days now,” The Protoss said with a deep voice, his psychic mind sending ripples through the air, mimicking the sound of speech. “And I’ve yet to locate any sign of this so called ‘Force’.”

Thalas had assumed that since his own psychic powers were quite like the Force in function and nature he would be able to somehow sense it, maybe even use it if he really tried. But even in his deepest meditative state he hadn’t been able to find the slightest shred of evidence that the force existed.

“Force sensitivity is a very rare thing, very few people are born with the ability and those that are have to train constantly to hone and perfect their control of it. So it’s not that surprising that you haven’t come in contact or been able to sense it yet. I mean for all we know people from your reality aren’t even capable of being force sensitive, it could be something entirely unique for this dimension. And indeed the midichlorian scan we did on you and the other survivors all came up negative, and as far as we know one has to have a high concentration of them to be force sensitive, although a high midichlorian count doesn’t prove anything either. I admit that your own powers are very similar to the force, but that doesn’t mean they are related, there have even been a few species capable of the things you are without the aid of the force.” Cartaine explained at length.

“Still, I would have hoped that my own powers would grant me some sort of connection with the Force, or at least allow me to detect it.”

“I know, I would have thought so too,” Cartaine agreed. “But don’t give up hope yet, the Jedi council knows more about these things then I do, perhaps they can help. And even so, it might be that you just need more time for the Force to manifest itself within you, who knows these things, it’s not like we’re accustomed to visitors from other dimensions or realities.” He joked.

And Cartaine wasn’t the only one finding the idea of dimension hopping a bit odd. Just a few days ago Thalas had still been part of the Protoss expeditionary fleet commanded by Tassadar, sent to scour the Zerg from the infested Terran worlds. Then suddenly he had woken up on a strange ship, with humans telling him that he was in a different reality and that they meant him no harm, something he had a hard time accepting after seeing his entire crew being killed by a Terran attack force.

But even that hadn’t been enough, moments later things changed again as the ship he was on was drawn into the anomaly that allowed people to jump dimensions. And now they were in a dimension where there was even more humans, these ones spread across an entire galaxy with the power to rival the Protoss themselves.

For countless millennia his own people had considered themselves the mightiest power known to exist and as such they had taken it upon themselves to protect the lesser species. But now it seemed that that balance might shift.

The Protoss own galaxy was almost devoid of life compared to these other two realities, with only a handful of sentient species known to exist, most of them not even space faring yet. But here things were different, here there were more species then one could possible count. Both in the Federation galaxy and the Republic galaxy, this much was obvious as one walked down a corridor, you couldn’t even round a corner without bumping into yet another species.

“Ah, here we are.” Cartaine said and stopped at a door, bringing Thalas back from his own thoughts. “Let’s go see if the Captain is ready.”

* * * *

“Admiral, do you really think it’s a good idea to invite the strangers to the bridge?” The Captain of the Stalwart asked, unable to keep his peace any longer. Unlike Roth, he still had his doubts about the origins and intentions of the guests and as such he had quite a few misgivings about inviting them to the center of command for their small battle group.

“A good idea? Well I wouldn’t know about that Captain, but I do know it’s the polite thing to do.” Admiral Roth answered, not really in the mood to debate this with the Captain right now.

“Polite?” The Captain echoed incredulously. “With all due respect Admiral, is being polite really something we should be risking our own security for?”

“Yes.” The Admiral stated flatly.

The Captain didn’t really know how to respond to that, to him that statement just seemed absurd. And he was just about to start protesting when the Admiral quickly cut him off, knowing that the man wouldn’t be quiet before he got a satisfactory answer. “Because if what Picard has been telling me about the Federation and the technology they posses, it would be in our best interest to become fast friends with them.”

That seemed a little more reasonable to the Captain and it even calmed him somewhat, but he still wasn’t completely satisfied. “Technology? What possible technology would the Federation be able to give us? You saw their ship, it was weak and slow, far below what the Republic is able to produce. What possible use can we have of their technology?”

“Their military technology is far weaker then Republic standards, yes that’s true, but military technology isn’t everything Captain.” The Admiral explained. “During my conversations with Picard I’ve learned of a few devices they possess that the Republic could greatly benefit from. Replicator technology, transporter technology and holographic technology is but a few of those things.”

The Captain, never having heard of these things before was just about to ask the Admiral about them. But Roth anticipated the query so he decided to explain further before the Captain had his chance to complain again. “The various civilizations and alien races that inhabit the Federations galaxy are far younger then the ones in our own, at least most of them are. As such it isn’t strange that they haven’t developed weapons that are up to par with our own yet. But there is one thing that is very strange indeed. Somehow they have been able to develop technology that can manipulate molecules and particles at their very basic levels, something Republic scientists have not been able to do.” Roth started.

“Take replicator technology for instance, it is able to assemble food, water, clothing, basically anything you can think of directly from raw matter. Can you see the potential that technology has? And then there’s transporter technology, they use it to transport equipment and even people from one place to another instantaneously. Consider having that advantage in a boarding operation. While you might not be comfortable with the idea of transporting people you could still use the transporters to ‘beam’ over war droids or even bombs. And let’s not forget the holographic technology, they have found a way to make holograms as real as you and me, tangible even. Imagine training facilities with this technology. Not to mention that it could provide whole new avenues in the leisure business.” The Admiral continued at length.

The Captain felt stumped, he hadn’t understood everything Roth had just explained to him but nevertheless he saw that the Admiral had meant it when he’d said they had technology that could be beneficial to the Republic. That much was obvious. As such he decided not to press the issue of allowing the guests on the bridge any further. It wasn’t as if they would be able to do anything harmful even if they tried.

A crewman came running up behind them, interrupting their conversation. “Sir,” He said to the Admiral. “The guests, along with the Jedi are here, should I send them in?”

“Yes,” The Admiral said to the crewman, waving him away. Then he fixed the Captains eyes with his own, making sure that nothing he was about to say would fall on deaf ears. “Not a word of complaint from you anymore, do I make myself clear?”

The Captain couldn’t feel but a little angry at the condescending tone Roth used, but neither could he do anything about it. “Understood, Admiral.”

The doors at the back of the bridge slid open and in stepped a rather peculiar looking group of people. Among them were of course Picard and his first officers, along with the man they called Morham and the Protoss. Cartaine, who had brought them here came in last of the group.

The bridge of the Stalwart was very different from the Enterprise’s, Picard thought to himself as he and the others made their way down the narrow walkway leading up to the front of the bridge. For one thing it was a lot larger and had a lot more crewmen running around, most of them being confined in two large pits on either side of the walkway. The front of the bridge was largely devoid of people though, only the Admiral and the ships Captain stood there and instead of a single viewscreen the ship sported a massive panoramic window that went on for half a circle, giving the Admiral a nice view of a the surrounding area.

A strange swirling bluish light could be seen outside the ship, formed almost like a tunnel, with the Stalwart flying through it. That must be what it looks like when using the ‘hyperdrive’, Picard realized. If only the Federation could learn the secrets behind this form of faster then light travel, the entire galaxy would be within their reach, a notion that an explorer like himself thought very attractive.

“Ah, Captain Picard.” Admiral Roth said with a smile on his face. “Why don’t you and the rest of your men come join me here by the window, we’re just about to drop out of hyperspace.”

“I’d like that very much Admiral.” Picard said, returning the sincere smile and moving up to stand beside the Republic Admiral, with the rest of his group slowly following.

“Hyperspace reversion in 3… 2… 1…” A crewman in one of the pits to their side counted down and when he hit zero the space that a moment ago had been a swirling blue tunnel changed to that of normal space again, with a large planet right in front of them and a million tiny stars visible in the backdrop.

The planet itself was like nothing Picard had ever seen before, millions of small lights could be seen on its surface, lighting the whole thing up beautifully. It was like seeing one of Earths larger cities from space, only this planet was covered with the lights. Behind the planet the sun’s corona could be seen, just barely reaching over the edges of the planet, making the whole scene seem so much more spectacular.

“Magnificent!” Riker said with a voice that was filled with awe and wonder.

“Indeed number one,” Picard smiled, glad that his first officer seemed a little happier once again. “It’s not everyday you get to see an entire planet covered by a sprawling metropolis.”

“Sir,” A crewman suddenly shouted, the hurried tone of his voice breaking everybody from their trance. “There’s a large amount of debris in high orbit around the planet.”

“What?” Roth exclaimed, moving over to look down at the crewman. “Analyze the debris!”

“Aye Sir,” He said, tapping a few controls on his station. “It looks like the remains of a large number of destroyed ships. I’m reading both Separatist and Republic ships among the debris.”

“But that’s the impossible! The Separatists would never dare risk an all out attack on Coruscant, that would be pure madness on their part.”

“I’m also reading a large number of encrypted military communications throughout the system.” The crewman went on.

“Contact the planetary defense forces, tell them that Admiral Roth would like to speak to someone in charge.”

The crewman did as ordered and soon he had a certain Captain Villen on the line. He patched the signal through to the bridges holographic projectors and a moment later the holographic Captain was standing at the front of the bridge.

“What’s happened here, Captain? We have discovered the debris of several destroyed ships in orbit.” Roth demanded, deciding to forego the usual pleasantries and cut right to the chase.

“There’s nothing to worry about, the situation is under control, Admiral.” The figure replied.

Roth calmed a little, at least things seemed to be in order now, whatever had transpired earlier. Naturally there was no way the Separatist could ever take Coruscant by force. But they wouldn’t attack the system if they didn’t have a plan that had at least some chance of succeeding.

“What where they after?” Roth asked.

“The chancellor,” Villen stated bluntly. “They risked a large portion of their forces to kidnap the chancellor.”

“And did they succeed in getting him?” Roth asked, growing alarmed once more.

“They would have, if it weren’t for two Jedi who managed to slip aboard General Grievous ship and rescue the chancellor during their escape.”

“The General himself was leading the attack?” Roth asked, a little surprised by the half-droids daring tactics.

“Along with Count Dooku nonetheless.”

“Were the Jedi able to apprehend either of them?” The Admiral asked, knowing that if this was the case, the military heads of the Separatist would have been cut off, and as a result, the war would soon be over.

“Grievous managed to escape but Count Dooku was killed during the Chancellors rescue.”

“Well, that’s more good news then I had hoped for at least.” Roth muttered to himself.

“If I might interrupt for a while, Admiral.” Cartaine asked, wanting to know more about the Jedi that had been involved. “Do you know the names of the two Jedi that did this?” He asked the holographic projection.

“Yes, it was Jedi Master Obi-wan Kenobi and Anakin Skywalker.” The apparition replied.

“I might have known.” Cartaine said. Those two were an odd couple. Obi-wan was as wise as they came yet still relatively young when compared to the others on the council. And Anakin was as powerful as any of the Masters, some even said that he would become the strongest of the Jedi when he got older. Other hushed voices had even said that the council thought that he was the chosen one, the one said to balance the force. But that was neither here or there as rumors like that were often blatantly wrong.

In any case, those two were a force to be reckoned with.

“Right, but we have pressing matters with the Jedi council, so if you don’t mind we’d like to get on our way.” The Admiral said and with that the figure disappeared after giving Roth a slight bow.

“Helm, you’re free take us down.” Roth then said and the bridge crew sprang into action, guiding the large ships down towards the surface of that magnificent planet.

Wonderful. This story is coming along quite nicely. More I say!

I thought i'd mention that i've posted a trailer like thingy of future events in this fic on SB.com, if you're interested check it out.

http://forum.spacebattles.com/showthrea ... ost2666963

As you might have noticed i haven't updated in a while. This is because i've had a ton of other stuff to do lately, my summer job has just started and then there's still a ton of stuff i have to do in school.

And it's not over yet, so it might be a while before the next update. But once school is over things will calm down again and then i will have time to write again. Just thought i'd let you know.

All right so you may have noticed that this fic has been on hold for a while now. Real life issues have made it hard to write regularly, but rest assured that the fic was at no point in danger of being discontinued. In fact i've got about 15 000 words of raw text written in addition to this chapter, it just needs to be revised a couple of times before release.

And one more thing, i've started redoing the old chapters. Just to make the whole thing more consistant. I've also changed stuff around a little here and there. So for each new chapter i add, i'll try to revise an old one as well. The new ones will have a (v2.0) tag after the chapter name. Some of the revised chapters are going to be changed quite a lot i might add.


Chapter 9: The Beauty of Coruscant

“Amazing, isn’t it?” Picard asked absently, looking through a large window over the vast cityscape stretching out in front of him. He was leaning against a nearby wall with his arms crossed in front of him, a relaxed posture, a posture mimicking the state of mind he was in right now.

From space, Coruscant had been a beautiful sight indeed, the multitude of lights dotting the surface shining like some the larger cities on earth during the night. But the full scale of it all had become apparent first during their descent to the planet’s surface and even more so now that the Captain found himself gazing out over the never ending spires and buildings stretching out in front of him.

He found his thoughts drifting back to their descent, to the sight of the first few skyscrapers breaking through the milky white clouds, and the golden gleam that was reflected off their shiny metal surface in the early morning sun. It had all been so breathtakingly beautiful. It was an image Picard knew he would carry with him for the rest of his life. And if there was one thing this trip had given him, it was the hope. Hope that the Federation might someday reach the height the Republic had.

“Yeah sure, whatever,” Picard heard Morham reply, in quite an unenthusiastic way. “I just wish Cartaine would get a move on, this place is making me nervous.”

Picard turned around to look at the man, a little surprised at his gruff attitude. How could this place make anybody nervous?

Morham’s demeanor did nothing if not reflect what he had just said, he was pacing back and forth in the hallway they were currently waiting in, a uneasy air about him.

Though Picard found he had to agree with the latter part of Morham’s statement, he too was getting a little tired of just standing there, waiting for things to start happening.

They were supposed to make an appearance before the Jedi council and explain exactly what had happened to them, though that could be a bit difficult since Picard wasn’t quite sure he understood all the details himself.

Cartaine had gone on ahead of them, to inform the council that they had arrived and that they were ready to be heard, but that was already some time ago. Picard could only hope that when he finally did return, he would have good news.

The rest of the survivors from the Enterprise had been assigned temporary quarters and sent there once the Stalwart had landed, while Picard, Morham, Thalas and Cartaine had been marched off to the Jedi Temple without much say in the matter. They had each been chosen to represent the organization they belonged too.

The Jedi temple, Picard thought, looking around. A beautiful building indeed, even more so now that he had learned a little more about what the order stood for and what it was all about. Some of their tenets weren’t all that different from the Federation’s policies.

The temple itself was esthetically beautiful, with soft colors and smooth lines wherever he looked. A simplistic design, yet, majestic somehow. Windows, stretching from floor to ceiling, were lined along the walls, making the whole building seem like it opened up into the city beyond. Huge statues, depicting heroes that had come before, had been placed everywhere, and other works of art were also on display here and there, but more then that, the very atmosphere of the place radiated a rare kind of peace and harmony.

And this was probably also why Morham felt so uncomfortable, Picard realized. How very alien this place must seem to him. The man had grown up in an environment where hardship, strife and violence were commonplace, and in comparison, this place would most likely be like a dream that was too good to be true to him, or perhaps just too odd for him to really fathom.

Though in reality, it was more the idea of hundreds of force wielders occupying this very building that disturbed the marine the most. The notion of people being able to manipulate reality with a mere thought felt very unnatural to him, not to mention threatening. The only previous people he knew that could do this were the ghosts and the Protoss, and he didn’t exactly have a good track-record with either of them.

Thalas was being his usual self and stood quietly by in a corner, scrutinizing the place without saying a word. Anyone who passed him could do nothing but guess as to what he was thinking. Inside however, he felt as giddy as a kid in a candy store, a sensation that beings who lived to be over eight hundred years old rarely felt, the passing of years has a way of making even the strange seem trivial, but not this time.

The temple, and even the city outside, reminded him of Aiur, his home planet, in so many ways. There were spacious and elegant buildings, with people devoted to knowledge and learning roaming around inside. And tall, majestic spires, that seemed to reach up into the heavens themselves, much like the Citadels back home. Beautiful monuments lining the city streets, reminding the people of who and what they were. It was all so very refreshing. Though he did still miss the telepathic link that was native to any planet the Protoss had settled.

He made a mental note to himself, that if he was ever to return to Aiur, he would recommend the Conclave establish diplomatic relations with the Jedi order. A notion that was quite fantastic, seeing as how the Protoss had never before had a relationship like that with any other civilization, except perhaps the Xel’Naga, who had created the entire Protoss species. Yes, an alliance with these enlightened begins could prove very beneficial, to both of them, Thalas thought.

“Ah, he’s back.” Picard said, once he noticed the familiar form of Cartaine running down the corridor towards them.

“I’m sorry you had to wait so long, but there’s a lot going on right now, what with the Separatist attack on Coruscant and all.” He explained. “In any case, the council is ready to receive you now, just follow me.”

* * * *

Some time had now passed since Picard, Morham, Thalas and Cartaine had first been brought before the Jedi council. Most of which had been spent explaining who they were and how they had come to be here to the council members. With the exception of a few questions, the Jedi had remained mostly silent during this time.

Morham, who had done nothing but provide a little background information on the Confederacy and his own reality, was starting to get very bored by this whole thing, and wanted nothing more then for it to be over. Being questioned and interrogated repeatedly was not his forte.

Thalas, beside from providing nothing but the most basic information on his own culture, had remained mostly quiet during the proceedings. He may have felt it would be a good idea to ally with these people, but the decision wasn’t his, and so he had opted to do what the Protoss always did in first contact situations, namely remain as cryptic and sparse as possible, when it came to information.

The Jedi, though intrigued by his species and their psychic powers, chose to honor Thalas wishes, and so they allowed him his privacy.

“So, in short, you claim you’re from another reality, a parallel universe of sorts, am I correct?” The man who had introduced himself as Mace Windu asked, wanting just to clarify what the council had already been told a couple of dozen times. Picard, nearly as annoyed as Morham with the never ending questioning, was a little surprised that they were greeted so calmly by the council, he would have expected a little more disbelief on their part, perhaps even outrage, but as it was, Windu’s question, just like all the others posed before, had no sarcasm and no doubt in them that Picard could notice.

“Yes,” He spoke up. “I can’t say I fully understand the technical details behind the anomaly that allowed for this to happen, myself. But from what my more scientifically inclined officers have determined, this is indeed the case.”

Windu turned to look at one of the smaller aliens, seated in the circle around the survivors, as if to see what he thought of the whole thing.

Picard, a seasoned diplomat, had by now begun to understand the structure of the council itself, simply by watching how the members interacted with each other. So far, the man called Windu and the little green alien, who had identified himself as Yoda, had seemed to be the ones asking most of the questions with everyone else seemingly eager to learn what they were thinking about the whole issue. As such, Picard deduced that those two were the leaders of the council, but whether that was official or unofficial he couldn’t tell, as they all seemed to hold the title of master.

“Speak the truth, this one does.” The smaller alien finally said. His voice a little stretched and raspy, as if he was reaching old age. “But also, troubling, this news is.” He added with a grim look on his face.

“I agree,” Windu said, stealing Picard’s attention once more. “The Force has shown us nothing about this anomaly, or the events that followed its introduction. Further more, there is nothing in the old prophesies that even remotely resemble anything like this.”

Picard, who already knew exactly why this all was happening, began feeling very uneasy, as if he, in some part, was responsible for it all. No doubt in part due to the fact that Q had created the anomaly because of his fascination with him and the human race as a whole.

“Something on your mind, there is?” Yoda asked, as intuitive as ever.

Picard looked down at the floor, wondering weather telling the council about Q would be a wise thing to do. Though he suspected they would learn of it one way or another, as he had been told earlier that some force users had the ability to look into other people’s minds, seeing their thoughts. So in the end there really was no choice.

“Yes,” Picard began tentatively, gripping both Morhams and Thalas attention, as neither of them had heard the Captain mentioning anything about a reason for the happenings as of yet. “There was one thing I chose not to tell you, as I didn’t know how you would react to it.”

This brought the combined stares of the council members on him. Even Morham who a second ago was contemplating jumping out of one of the huge windows that surrounded the entire room, just to escape the never ending boredom, seemed a little more interested.

Picard took a deep breath, preparing himself for what he was about to divulge. “What I say now I have said to no one before this, partly because I didn’t want to believe it myself at first, but mostly because I didn’t know how others would respond to it.” Picard said, stopping to glance at the people around the room. “I do, in fact, know why all of this is happening.”

That interesting little piece of information had the council members shifting uneasily in their seats. The companions that had followed Picard seemed to be just as perturbed as the Jedi.

“If you know something, now would be a good time to share it.” A very impatient Windu spoke up, his stare demanding obedience.

“The fact of the matter is, that we are all part of a practical joke of sorts,” Picard started. Though he himself hated everything that involved Q at this point, he couldn’t but help a meager smile at the absurdity of what he had just said, and how it must have sounded when spoken out loud.

“A prank?” The Jedi Master with the tall forehead chuckled incredulously. “I’m warning you Picard, the Jedi council is not something to be trifled with, if this really is some sort of a bad joke on your part, I suggest you stop now, before you make it worse for yourself.”

Picard gave the man a look that said he was indeed being serious. “The entity that has done this is known to the Federation simply as Q, and during our contacts with him, or perhaps rather it, has displayed a tendency to jest and generally make a mockery of everything around him. Treating the universe as a child would a playground. Though usually the things he did, did have some sort of practical reason, he just didn’t want to say it out loud. The reason for the anomaly, as he has explained it, is to allow the Q a chance to continue evolving, or learning. But it might very well be, that the real reasons he did what he did, might forever be obscure to us.” Picard explained at length.

“And how exactly would linking our realities help him evolve?” Windu asked.

“Like I said, the real reason he’s done this might be something different entirely, but the way he explained it, was that watching different elements interact with each other, somehow helps the Q understand the very nature of things better. The focus of this experiment, is to watch how we humans, interact with different circumstances. That’s why all the three realities that have been merged have only one thing in common, the human species.”

“And this Q being, what exactly is it, how would you describe it?” The alien with the tall forehead queried.

“I’m afraid that’s a question I don’t have a good answer too.” Picard started. “If you’d ask him, he would probably tell you that he is a God, with omnipotent and omniscient abilities, but I strongly doubt this is the case, as there are by his own admittance things he doesn’t understand. But powerful he is, that much is certain, he has created new realities in the blink of an eye, thrown my starship clear across the galaxy and even transported me to the time where life on my planet was just beginning, millions of years in the past.”

The council seemed a little agitated by the description of the Q Picard had just given them. “Do you think it might have something in common with the force, perhaps a sentient manifestation of it or something of the like?” One Jedi master asked.

“That’s something best discussed in private, Master Voss.” Windu said.

Thalas, who had been listening to the discussion with great interest, was thinking along similar lines. The Protoss, who had wandered the galaxy for millennia, unchallenged in their power and unmatched in their psychic powers, had never come across something even remotely like the Q. Even the Xel’Naga, the creators of the Protoss race, were corporeal beings. Could the Q be some sort of living Psionic entity, perhaps akin to the Archon entities he had heard of?

“Possess a way to communicate with him, do you?” Yoda asked, breaking his silent contemplation.

“No, he usually shows up whenever he pleases to, but since he claims to be omniscient, I suppose to contact him, you wouldn’t have to do more then want it. No doubt he is taking great interest in what is being said here, right now.”

“And how right you are, my dear Captain!” A loud voice suddenly boomed from behind Picard.

All eyes quickly turned to regard the source of that voice, but Picard recognized the familiar tone even before turning around to face it, and he was now fast regretting ever bringing up Q to the council.

“I regret not coming earlier, but I just love to watch Picard squirm.” Q said, sitting in one of the chairs that a second ago had been vacant, wearing a robe similar to all the others around him, and a great wide smile stretched across his face.

Half the council got to their feet, readying themselves for anything. The only one seemingly unmoved by the sudden appearance of the Q, was Yoda, who was still sitting in his chair, rubbing his chin and quietly eyeing the being. It was strange, he could feel nothing from the spot where Q sat. No thought, no emotion, no life and no force. It was as if it was only an illusion, or an avatar of something else perhaps.

“A good reason for being here, have you?” The Jedi Master finally asked.

Q’s face took on a thoughtful expression as he looked at the people all around him. “You know, now that I think about it, not really, no.” He finally answered.

“Stop this farce and explain yourself!” Windu demanded, discovering what Picard had meant when he said the Q usually made a mockery of the things around him. He brought out his lightsaber but refrained from igniting it just yet.

“Ah, the famous patience and calm of the Jedi,” Q said sarcastically. “Why don’t you put that thing away before you hurt yourself with it, it’s not like a mere lightsaber can destroy an all-powerful God.”

“A god, you are not.” Yoda retorted simply and calmly, perhaps a little too calmly to the Q’s liking.

“Ah, well, perhaps not, but to you, I might as well be.” The being answered.

“You still haven’t answered the question, why are you here?” Asked Picard.

“No, I suppose I haven’t.” Q grinned, not really wanting to either, but as all eyes were still on him, without anyone uttering so much as a peep, he decided to elaborate. “I guess you could say I was merely curious. I mean I’m in the middle of the Jedi council room, many would kill for the opportunity. Your wisdom and influence stretch across an entire galaxy, something my dear friend Picard here has striven for his entire life, and yet, the notion of what you have already accomplished still only exists in his deepest dreams.”

“You’re here just because you’re curious? I find that hard to believe.” Windu said.

“Then don’t believe it, it doesn’t matter to me.” Q said dismissively, his voice now showing signs that he was growing tired with the Jedi Master’s antics.

“In any case, as long as you are here, you might as well confirm what Picard here has already told us, that you are indeed behind what has happened and the reasons for you doing it are what the Captain has said.” Another Jedi Master chimed in.

Q stared at the Jedi, tapping the armrests on his chair. “Indeed I am the architect of these recent events, and the reasons are what Picard has said. Although I doubt your mortal minds could grasp the full scope of the reasoning behind my actions.”

“Growth and self-improvement, in itself, is an admirable goal, but you can’t do it at the expense of others.” Picard said, knowing that his reasoning would fall on deaf ears, as it always seemed to do when he talked to the Q.

“At the expense of others?” Q echoed incredulously. “My dear Captain, you and the Jedi are presented with an opportunity here, an opportunity that could allow you to grow beyond what was previously impossible, is that really an expense?”

“Knowing you, there’s a catch, there always is. And usually the risk involved far outweighs the gains. The Borg for instance, thousands have died by their hands and thousands more probably will, yet you continue to say you did it just to strengthen us!”

“Your naiveté amuses me Picard, tell me, how would you fare against the Dominion, if the threat of the Borg had never been present?”

“We would find a way to overcome, we always do.” Picard answered, knowing the answer was as hollow as any he had ever given.

“Enough!” Windu demanded. “Is there a catch to this as Picard suspects, and if there is, what is it?”

“Well, as always, your fate lies with you and what you do. Life, as a whole, can gain from what I have done. But, there’s also the chance that you make the wrong decisions, and life as a whole loses.” He said, a wicked grin on his face. “Think of it as a struggle between the light side and the dark side of the human soul. Which one is stronger, which one will triumph?”

“But the balance is tipped in the darker sides favor, isn’t it?” Picard asked, a I-knew-it look on his face.

“As always,” Q said, throwing his hands up in the air. “You mortals view things far too narrowly, but then what should I expect. Not everybody can be omniscient. Growth, comes from pain, from strife, that should be quite obvious to the Federation by now. In any case, I grow tired of this pointless conversation, so I think I’ll go find something a little more interesting to occupy my time with. It’s clear there’s no growth to be had here.”

And with that, the entity known as Q was gone once more, vanishing in a bright flash of light, leaving a baffled Jedi Council, behind him.

The first one to speak after the long silence ensuing was Windu.

“I think its best if you leave now,” He said to the visitors standing in the middle of the room. “The council will need to discuss these events in private.”

“What about us then?” Morham asked, a little surprised at hearing his own voice.

“You will be granted full diplomatic privileges and undoubtedly there will be a lot of people who will want to talk to you in the coming weeks. Though for now, I think we should keep this matter quiet. Then, once this war is over and Grievous is captured, we will try to find a way to return you to your own reality.” Windu said dismissively.

“If I may be so bold,” Picard interrupted, stealing Windus attention and managing to try his patience in the process. “I think that would be a mistake.”

“And why is that?” The Jedi Master asked.

“The ship we arrived with, it’s different from your own. Technologically you are more advanced then us, but there are still a few things onboard that ship that could turn the tide of your war, in the Separatist direction, should they be discovered.”

“Yes, I believe Admiral Roth gave an explanation of these things already, he seemed of the opinion that they were of great importance as well.” Ki-Adi Mundi said, agreeing with Picard.

“So, what is it you suggest?” Windu asked, a little calmer now.

“I think the first order of business should be to recover our ship, there’s no telling what could happen if the Separatists realize what it is they have captured. Once that’s done, we can return home on our own, and leave you to your war.” Picard said.

“Agree with the Federation Captain, I do.” Yoda said. “Find their ship, we should. And perhaps, if lucky we are, Grievous we will find as well.”

“There are still problems though. We have no idea where the ship is or even where to start looking.” Another Jedi Master said.

“Then we should make discovering this the top priority of our spies.” Windu said. “We will keep you informed of how the situation evolves, until then, we have provided you quarters and everything else you might need.”

And with that, the meeting was adjourned.

* * * *

“I still think this was a bad idea.” Worf said, his sentiment in sharp contrast to the others, gathered around him.

A mere few minutes earlier he had somehow allowed himself to be persuaded into leaving his new quarters and venture out into the city beyond, but now that he stood among the throng of people shuffling about all around him, he wished he would have chosen to stay in and wait for news on their situation.

The others had been insistent though, eager to get out ‘for a night on the town’ as Geordi had called it. For them, sitting around in your quarters with nothing to do but wait, was something to avoid. Besides, they had been idling about for days already, when they escaped onboard the Stalwart.

Worf had to admit that he too had been getting quite tired of the lack of activity, and that was probably the only reason the others managed to talk him into joining them. Though this was far from the place he would have chosen to visit.

“Oh come on, how bad can it be?” Geordi asked in an upbeat tone, while looking at the myriad of strange people and alien species walking past their small gathering. The whole scene seemed so exotic, even to someone who had served aboard a Starship which frequently visited alien planets and strange new cultures. Everywhere he looked there were giant and colorful signs depicting various material objects that could be bought, and though he couldn’t understand what they said, he felt oddly compelled to go out and buy some of the stuff in those signs.

Morham, Data and Riker were also there, completing their little band. Of course others had also chosen to take in the sights of the city, but they had chosen to do so at other locations. Some had gone to the highly praised opera house while others still took in some of the finer sights the city had to offer.

Morham was the one that had suggested they visit the shadier parts of the city, and that the most fun could usually be had there. A truth he had learned during the Guild wars when he had been posted on a number of different planets and given some shore leave. Geordi had been quick to second that motion, he was all for new experiences.

The shadier parts on Coruscant had turned out to be the lower parts of the city, where people could easily hide and go about without fear of unwanted eyes watching them.

There was one thing that even Worf was glad of though, and that was the fact that Riker was with them. When Geordi had first approached the Commander with their plans he had thought Riker would reject the invitation to join them right off the bat. But not so, the man who had tried to distance himself from the rest of the crew for quite some time now had almost seemed eager to get out and enjoy life once more. Truly, the visit on the planet and the trip on the Stalwart had done much to better his mood. He was still troubled by the death of Troi, quite much so, but at least the healing process had begun.

“So, where do you want to go?” Morham asked, rubbing his hands together with a gleeful grin, and feeling a little more at home in these slummier parts of the undercity then that of the upper parts. Somehow he found them to convey an atmosphere similar to the cities back on Mar Sara, and less of the squeaky clean feel the Enterprise and the upper parts of Coruscant did.

“How about in there?” Geordi asked, walking towards what looked like a bar, or cantina of sorts.

“Sure, looks like my kinda place.” Morham smiled, and started towards the bar, with Riker and Worf following close behind.

“Hey Data, aren’t you coming?” Geordi shouted, once he noticed their android friend had lagged behind. He was just standing there, looking around, with an astonished expression on his face. A face that the rest of the Enterprise crew recognized from his early years aboard the Enterprise, when he was still new and greeted everyday life with a childlike curiosity and fascination.

“Yes, of course.” He answered, seemingly snapping out of a trance, and followed the rest of the group. The tardiness no doubt due to this place and the abundance of information it provided the android.

The strangers filed in through the opening to the cantina, all of them equally amazed at the life and the energy the place seemed to radiate. It was like no Federation bar they had ever seen.

An alien, most likely the bouncer, judging from his large build, glanced them over as they passed, but said nothing. Had he realized Data was an android though, he might have objected, as their kind were not allowed in here.

Everywhere they looked there were people talking, laughing and enjoying themselves in every way possible, and even some ways the crew had previously thought impossible. To the Federals the whole scene looked akin to a Klingon gathering mixed with a festivity on Betazed.

“Well I don’t know about you, but I’m heading over to the bar to sample some of the local brew.” Riker said and made a bee line for the bardisk before anyone even had the chance to respond.

Morham watched the man as he squeezed through the throng in front of the bar, leaving them behind. “Do you think we should stop him?” He asked Geordi. “I don’t think drinking right now is going to do him any good.”

“Nah, let him do as he wants, if something happens we’ll be right here anyway.” Geordi replied. “Besides, we can’t very well tell him to lay of the drinking without him getting angry at us, and that would most likely just make him drink more.”

“I suppose you’re right.” Morham agreed with a sigh. “Data, you watch him, alright? If he does anything out of the ordinary or gets into trouble, you come find us, ok?”

“A wise precaution.” Data concurred. “I shall keep a close watch on Commander Riker.”

“Good, now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to look over the local gambling scene.” The Confederate said, having spotted a table that looked very much like the blackjack tables back in his own reality.

“Gambling?” Geordi said to himself. “Sure, why not.”

“I knew this was a mistake.” Worf repeated to himself as he was left standing alone in the middle of the cantina, a disapproving look on his face. After a while, he decided to join Morham and Geordi, although most certainly not to participate in the gambling.

The evening rolled on, as hour after hour slid by. Morham and Geordi didn’t have much luck at their game of Pazzaak, as the locals called it. Apparently, part of the game was collecting a nice set of starting cards, and being new to the game the two had only managed to buy a starting deck. Nevertheless, they enjoyed themselves thoroughly, after all, it wasn’t as if they were gambling with their own money. If only the people they were playing with knew that their credits were provided by the Jedi Council, they might have thought twice about stripping the two strangers of all their credits.

During the game, Morham had been assailed by a bright blue female alien, a quite attractive one at that, though she lost interest in him quite quickly, once she realized that the man wouldn’t have any credits left by the end of the night. Had anyone a few months ago told him that he would get aroused by an alien ‘Twi-lek’ with a rather large saucer section and skimpy clothing, while playing a game of Pazzaak with a bunch of even stranger looking aliens, he would undoubtedly have thought the person mad.

Riker, on the other hand, was busy ordering shots of something he couldn’t even pronounce, and then draining them as quickly as he could. The more he drank, the further away the thoughts of Deanna faded, and soon he felt almost normal again, except for the small matter of being drunk out of his mind of course.

Data, who had been told to keep an eye on him, had done as instructed. But his lack of first hand experience with drunk people prevented him from realizing that Riker was fast becoming too intoxicated for his own good.

“Move over, will ya.” A grotesque looking alien said, trying to fit in behind the counter between Riker and another alien.

“Sure, why not? I guess it’s the least I could do for someone as ugly as you.” Riker said, and started chuckling at his joke. To him it had been hilarious, but the alien didn’t seem to appreciate it quite as much though.

“What was that?” The alien asked, and got up from the stool, facing Riker, the expression on his face clearly showing his anger.

“What? The part about you being ugly?” Riker laughed, knowing, but no caring, that he was heading straight for trouble. “You know I would, if it wasn’t so plainly obvious.” He said, bursting into another fit of laughter.

The face of the alien was all crunched up in an expression of pure rage now. He grabbed the front of Rikers collar and hoisted him up into the air, so that the two were face to face. “Do you have any idea who I am?” The alien asked in a barely controlled voice.

“You know,” Riker said, studying his face, as if to see if he did recognize him. “I don’t think so. But I just realized something else.”

“And that would be?” The alien asked, guessing what was to come.

“You stink as bad as you look.” Riker said, followed by yet another hearty laugh.

In that instant, the alien lost all sense of restraint. He threw the man to the floor, a dull thump signaling his landing.

Riker didn’t feel quite so amused anymore, landings like that hurt, even when drunk.

“I am the great Recco Madak!” The alien pronounced, throwing his arms out and looking around at the people standing close to him. Much to his satisfaction, they at least seemed to recognize the name and now started filing away from his immediate vicinity. He so loved when he got that reaction from people.

To Riker the name meant nothing though. Had he only known the name was that of a notorious undercity thug, who delighted in beating up the less fortunate, and that trifling with him was about as wise as kicking a sleeping Ranchor. Riker might have even decided that leaving would be a wise choice right about now had he known that.

By now Data had noticed what was going on, and was fast approaching Riker, who was still lying on the floor. “I think it would be best if we locate Geordi and Morham.” He said as he helped Riker to his feet. Which proved to be more of a choir then the android had initially thought.

Four more aliens were approaching the group now, all of the same species as the one who had identified himself as Recco. It didn’t take a genius to realize that they were all part of his gang. And that any fight involving him, would also involve them.

“You want to make something of it?” Riker asked once he had sufficiently recovered, his face now showing a grim determination.

The alien burst into laughter. “Make something of it?” He echoed incredulously. “Did you hear that boys? The human thinks he’s got what it takes to take me!”

The others started laughing at their leaders oh so witty joke, who did the human think he was, challenging Recco. There was no way something as puny as that could ever beat him, or any of them for that matter.

Data, in an attempt to calm the situation, stepped between the two men. “There is no need for violence.” He told the alien matter-of-factly. “If my friend here has done something to upset you, I am sure I can somehow make it up to you.”

“But of course there is a way to remedy the situation! All I need is the head of your friend there and everything will be right as rain again.” Recco laughed.

“I appreciate the effort Data, but now is not the time for talk.” Riker said, motioning for the android to get away.

By now the escalating commotion around the two had reached the other crewmen, and they were pushing through the crowd that had gathered around them.

“Ok, ok, easy there. Our friend’s just had a little too much to drink. We’ll just leave now and take him with us.” Geordi said, grabbing one of Rikers arms, trying to get the Commander to come along with him.

“You don’t seem to understand, maggot.” The ugly alien snarled at the Lieutenant, taking a threatening step towards him. “It’s a matter of honor now, that man is ours, and if you even try to intervene, we’ll have to beat you senseless, right along side him.”

“So much for a peaceful solution.” Geordi muttered under his breath, and shot a glance towards Morham and Worf, who stood at the edge of the ring the people who had gathered around them had created. Much to Geordie’s surprise, neither of them seemed particularly dismayed by their. In fact, they almost seemed eager to deal with it the hard way.

“So what will it be?” Recco asked, his stare wandering over the strange group of aliens that seemed to be friends with the one who had insulted him. “Will you do the smart thing and scram, or the stupid thing and stay?”

“Well, I don’t know about the others here, but people have been calling me stupid all my life, and I’d hate to prove them wrong, so…” Morham said, flashing an innocent grin. “What about you, big buy? Feeling up for a little tussle?” He asked Worf, already knowing the answer.

“I’m starting to think that perhaps this little excursion wasn’t a complete waste of time after all.” Worf said, his Klingon side bristling at the prospect for some good old fashioned hand to hand.

“Well, if that’s how you want it.” Recco said. But even before that sentence was completed he and his gang jumped at Riker and his men, fists swinging.

Though this was but a bar fight, there were still some basic tactics involved. Recco had made it very clear that he wanted to be the one to fight Riker, so his men quickly proceeded to remove Geordi and Data who were standing right next to him from his path.

Geordi, a starship engineer, didn’t stand much of a chance against his physically superior foe, and the fight quickly became very one sided, with the heavier alien swinging at Geordi, while he slowly backed away, trying to dodge the attacks.

But when it came to Data, the matter was a different one. “Engaging in physical violence at this point, would be most unwise on your part.” He offered the alien, just before receiving a heavy fist straight to his face. Of course as an android, he couldn’t feel a thing, but the alien who had hit him, he could feel his hand slamming against the solid metal quite keenly, the cracking of a few bones in his hand serving only to further elaborate his inefficiency.

“You’re a droid?!” He blurted in disbelief, nursing his throbbing hand. Seldom did droids appear so life like on the outside, and more then a few frowned on the very idea of a droid mimicking the appearance of a sentient. To them, the very thought seemed perverse.

“An accurate comparison, although I prefer the term android.” Data answered and proceeded to grasp the aliens hand, twisting it so that he was forced down on his knees, screaming in agony. “It better describes my likeness to that of a human.”

Neither Worf nor Morham had been standing idly by while all this had happened, as they too had been assailed by their share of gang members. Worf had taken a few hits, and he had given a few. To his Klingon physiology, the harm he was receiving was minuscule when compared to what he was dealing his now bloody and woozy counterpart. One final swing, landing squarely in the alien’s chest, sent him flying over the bar counter, shattering glasses and smashing bottles all the way. But even as one opponent was removed from the fight, another one took his place, and soon Worf found himself in a pitched fight once more.

Morham on the other hand, found himself on slightly more even terms with his opponent, not quite as overpowering as Worf was against his. As a Confederate marine he had been trained in the arts of hand to hand combat, but so too had his opponent, and the alien used his skills more regularly, and he was physically stronger. Despite this, Morham had managed to get in a few decent hits and now they were both wobbling back and forth, breathing heavily, expending as much energy trying just to stand up as fighting each other.

“You’re pretty tough for a human.” The alien offered, genuinely astonished by the fact that a mere human could match him in a fight, but then, most of the members of that species that he had fought before had been too drunk to stand up.

“Yeah, I know.” Morham replied simply, trying hard not to pass out. “You’re not too bad yourself.”

And with that small exchange completed the fight was on once more. This time Morham got lucky though, as the thug missed when trying to punch him and as a result he almost stumbled all over himself. A quick move by Morham and he found his fist at the back of the aliens head. It was lights out instantaneously for the unfortunate gang member.

Morham chuckled to himself a little as he looked over his handiwork, and then fell down right next to the alien, the many hits he had taken finally catching up with him.

“You think you’re pretty tough, huh?” Riker asked, defiantly trying to remain standing despite the beating he had taken. It was no surprise that he hadn’t managed to get a single strike to connect with Recco in the drunken state he was in, hitting a wall while standing right in front of it might even have proved too difficult a task for him. Not that it kept him from trying.

Recco couldn’t but laugh at the human and his pathetic slurs. “Tougher then you it would seem, I suggest you make your peace with whatever gods you worship while you still have the chance.” The alien said, a feral grin stretched from cheek to cheek.

“Why would I? You’re the one about to go down.” Riker retorted, taking another swing at the huge alien, a swing that ultimately hit nothing but air.

In the meantime, Worf was finishing off his second opponent, still feeling like he could take on a few more, but much to his dismay the only one left was Recco himself. Even the one who had challenged Geordi was down for the count, having been on the receiving end of Data’s paralyzing grip.

“There’s one thing I’ve been wondering about.” Recco said, as Riker picked himself up from the floor once again, his mouth running red with blood.

“Yeah? What’s that?” Riker asked, wiping the blood on his sleeve.

“How has a man as pathetic as you been able to survive for this long? I doubt I’m the first one to challenge you to a fight, and from your apparent lack of skill I find it hard to believe that you could ever beat anyone.”

“I manage.” Came the simple answer.

“I hope your mate won’t feel too sorry for your death, though I suppose I could help comfort her if I ever find her.” Recco said, and had he known the reaction that would cause in Riker, he might have chosen not to say it.

In his drunken stupor Riker had found some measure of peace, the memories and thoughts of Deanna Troi hadn’t surfaced for a long time now and as such Riker could even feel some measure of happiness once again. But what Recco had just said brought all those feelings and thoughts crashing down on him again. The sorrow he had previously felt changed to that of hatred, pure and primal hatred, directed towards the alien standing in front of him.

How he did it he couldn’t tell, and it didn’t matter either, but Riker got himself up from the floor and launched himself at the alien faster then should have been possible in the state he currently was in. Recco, a little surprised at the human’s revitalized attack, launched a quick backhand meant to slap the oncoming enemy down on the ground again. Surprise took him again though, as he noticed he hadn’t been all that successful in his attempt. In fact, Riker hadn’t even seemed to notice the backhand. Caught off-guard, the alien soon found himself the victim of a powerful jab straight to his face. The next thing he knew he was down on the ground with the human still pounding on him, his knuckles running red with his own blood. Had it not been for the action of the human’s companions, Recco would probably have found his grave that day.

“Calm down, calm down!” Geordi said, while trying to restrain the man. “It’s over, he’s down already, you got him!”

The look in Rikers eyes was that of pure madness, and it took Worf to finally pry him off his fallen opponent.

A few moments passed before he finally calmed down, returning to his normal self again. To the others it almost seemed as if the man had broken out of a state of trance, a state where he was something else then his own self, something more primal, more primitive.

“I think it’s time for us to get out of here.” Geordi said, having noticed the massing crowd around them, for some reason they all seemed quite upset, and most of them were looking at Data. “Worf, go get Morham, quickly.”

Worf didn’t object of course, there had been enough fighting for one day. He hoisted the man up onto his back and they all started towards the exit, watching the people around them, half expecting them all to jump them at some point. They didn’t however, and soon the companions found themselves out on the streets again, leaning against a wall in a dark alley, not far from the cantina.

For a moment all they did was try to catch their breaths, with Riker having to sit down so that he wouldn’t pass out. Geordi had gotten Morham up and about once again, the man being a little astonished at still being alive.

“That was some fight, eh boys?” Riker said, finally breaking into a laugh.

“So I hear, too bad I wasn’t there for the end.” Morham said, joining in Riker in his mirth.

“Still regretting that you joined us Worf?” Geordi asked.

The Klingon looked a little less sour now. “It was indeed… Invigorating… To fight a foe worth defeating once more, without the fate of the galaxy hanging in the balance.”

“Somehow I knew you were gonna feel that way.” Geordi said, and now they were all laughing like never before.

All except Data, who stood by, watching the group as if they had all gone crazy. “Curious, the fight with the alien gang members seems to somehow have improved your mood. I wonder if…” He started, but was quickly cut of by Geordi.

“Oh be quiet for once.” He chuckled.

Chapter 10: A Hopeful Plan

”I can scarcely believe what I’m hearing!” Picard barked as he paced back and forth in front of Riker, Data, Worf and Geordi, who were standing at attention before him. The mood in the Captain’s temporary quarters wasn’t the best possible at this moment, and quite understandably so. Not often did he get reports that said members of his crew had participated in what could only be described as a common bar brawl, while visiting an alien planet. And this time several key members of his crew, including his first officer had been involved. Such behavior could not, and would not be tolerated by a Starfleet Captain.

Picard felt as if the blood in his veins was on fire and he found it very difficult to control himself, standing there, in front of his men.

“How could this have happened? How could you allow it to happen?” Picard repeated, looking over each of the men. The bruised lips and the black eyes that met his gaze didn’t exactly help in soothing his ire.

“Number One, you were the senior officer down there, explain yourself.” Picard demanded.

Commander Riker cleared his throat and straightened up a little. “I have no excuse Captain, what we did was wrong and completely unbecoming of Starfleet officers. But I would like to point out that it was because of me the brawl got started, as such I would ask you to refrain from punishing the others as they were only trying to help me.” He said, willing to accept any punishment that he would receive. “I take full responsibility for the entire event.”

“Excuses be damned!” Picard shouted. “I want an explanation of what happened, not excuses as to why it did.” He added, managing to calm himself a little.

“Mr. Data, can I trust you to provide me with a complete and unbiased recollection of what happened in that cantina and why it did?” He asked, rubbing his temples as if trying to calm a growing headache.

“As always, I will do my best, Sir. Though I am unsure I fully comprehend all of the underlying human and alien emotional and cultural variables involved to completely-” Data started to reply, but was cut off by the Captain.

“Just tell me what you saw, that will be enough.”

“Very well, Sir,” Data said, and then proceeded to give a detailed description of the places, people, events and everything else involved he thought might be prudent to mention. A little too detailed in some respects, though by now, Picard had learned to expect as much from his android officer.

Their behavior had been unacceptable, that much was as plain as the bruised cheek on Riker. But Picard couldn’t deny that all this had also somehow affected his first officer in a positive way. He was no longer the silent and broody man he had been during their stay aboard the Stalwart, he seemed energetic, alive. And for this, Picard was glad. He needed his first officer, now more then ever, and if this was to be the cost of getting him back to his old self, then the price was well worth it.

He just wished he knew how to explain all this to the people back at Starfleet, or the Jedi council for that matter, no doubt they had heard of what had transpired by now.

Of course, he couldn’t let the men standing in front of him know he was really grateful for what had happened, so outwardly he still looked like the fuming Captain on the verge of exploding.

“I should throw you all in the brig, and I would, if the circumstances were normal, believe me I would!” He shouted. “However, I haven’t the luxury to do that right now, I need you, all of you, if we are to get out of this in one piece.” He said, his voice mellowing a bit. Then the corner of his mouth shot up in a slight smile. “Besides, I don’t even have a brig to throw you in at the moment.”

The crewmen standing at attention couldn’t help but smile a bit, perhaps the Captain wasn’t as angry with them as they had thought.

“Oh don’t look so damn pleased with yourselves! As soon as we get back to Federation space I promise you there will be consequences to your actions!” He said, a little harsher now, and that got the men lined in front of him to stop smiling.

Picard continued his pacing, his chin burrowed in his hand, obviously deep in thought about something.

“There is another reason why I called you all here.” He finally said.

“The Jedi Council contacted me this morning, telling me that they have located the Enterprise.” He explained, which got the mood in the room to improve considerably. The Enterprise had been found! Their chances of getting home again seemed to increase, if only a little.

“The council has asked us to partake in a meeting that will be held shortly in the Jedi Temple. The reasons for this meeting will be to outline the plan to retake the Enterprise, as well as inform several key members of the Republic army of what has, and is, happening. I want all of you to be there, and I want you to stay sharp! This might be the only chance we get to go home again, and I don’t intend on missing it! So, get yourselves over to Doctor Crusher and take care of those bruises on the double, then report back here, we don’t need the Jedi council thinking of us as brawling barbarians. You’re dismissed.” The Captain said.

“Aye, Sir!” Came the unanimous reply. The officers started for the door, feeling both relieved and happy at everything that had been said in that room today.

“Oh, and by the way, Doctor Crusher tells me that the Confederate Fitch has awakened from his catatonic state, he’s still a little disorientated, but should you wish to go visit him, you can.” Picard added, just as the men were about to exit the room.

* * * *

“Hey,” Morham said as he stepped into the quarters that had been assigned to Fitch. He wasn’t quite sure what to expect, the Doctor had contacted him a mere few minutes ago telling him about Fitch’s sudden recovery. She had also said that he wasn’t quite himself yet.

The man was sitting on the bed with his legs crossed, rocking back and forth, and if he had even noticed that Morham had come in, he didn’t show it. He took a few steps closer and now Fitch seemed to notice him, looking up, his eyes like that of a bewildered animal, darting back and forth, not focusing on one single point for more then a few seconds.

No, Morham thought, Fitch was definitely not in the all-clear yet.

“I, uh,” Morham started, not quite sure what to say to the man, and now that he thought about it, he wasn’t even sure why he had come here. Was it the fact that he had saved his life? Or perhaps he just wanted the only one in the same situation as him to be there when things got dicey.

“I heard you had gotten better.” He finally managed to say, wondering if ‘better’ was really the word he should have used.

“Better?” Fitch said, braking into nervous laughter. His facial muscles spasmed uncontrollably and it was clear that the man had great difficulty controlling himself, one minute his face flushed over with anger and the next it was as if he was about to cry.

“You call this better?” He repeated, looking up at Morham.

“Uh, well, it’s better then just lying there, catatonic and all, I guess.” Morham answered.

“Yes,” Fitch said, looking down at the ground. “I suppose it is.”

“So, what exactly is wrong?” Morham asked, regretting it the second the words left his mouth. That was probably the number one thing not to ask a man in Fitch state right now.

“It’s…” Fitch said, his eyes glassing over and his voice fading. “The feelings.” He finally managed weakly.

“The feelings?” Morham echoed, not quite sure what Fitch meant.

“Yes, the feelings. They’re too strong and too unpredictable, I can’t control them.” Fitch explained.

Having been in a conditioned and brainwashed state for almost all his life, where feelings didn’t really enter the picture, and then suddenly being freed from that state was no easy thing for Fitch to deal with. Not only did he have the current feelings to handle, but whenever his mind recalled a distant event, it assigned feelings to those moments too, feelings Fitch had never before felt. And needless to say, an assassin of his caliber had some pretty grim memories.

“And then there are others. The others.”

“Others?”

“Yes! The others! You, the doctor, everybody! I can feel what you feel as if it were my own feelings and I can’t stand it! It’s revolting! It’s disgusting! I can feel your pity for me right now and I hate it! I was never supposed to have feelings and now I know why!” Fitch shouted, his anger rising by the second, he got up from the bed and trembled so violently that Morham thought he might attack him. “They’re useless, meaningless… and paralyzing.” He said, finally calming, slumping down on the bed again.

When Deanna Troi had decided to give Fitch her gift of empathy, she had had no idea it would affect him this way, that he had been conditioned so thoroughly that it would take all his strength just from not going mad.

Morham didn’t know what to say or how to respond. He hadn’t understood half the things Fitch had just said and he doubted Fitch fully understood it all himself. But he did understand that Fitch might not be the safest person to around right now.

“I think it’s best if I leave.” Morham said and turned towards the door. Hoping that he could just make his exit without any further complications, coming here had been a big mistake.

“No, don’t go. It’s… It’s just these damned feelings, I need some time to learn how to deal with them.” Fitch said, burrowing his head in his hands, as if to force himself into a more sober state.

“Is there something I can do to help?” Morham asked, turning around. “I mean, you did save my life, offering my help is the least I can do, though I don’t know if I can.”

“No, I’m afraid this is something I’m going to have to come to terms with on my own.” Fitch answered. “It’s getting better, but I suppose it will still take some time before I’m completely in control again.”

“That’s good.” Morham said, nodding, not knowing what else to say. “That’s very, very… Good.”

“So, have there been any new developments in our situation?” Fitch asked, seeming a lot more in control now, though the twitching and spasming still remained.

“Yes, actually, the Jedi Council just contacted us, they believe they have found the Enterprise, I’m on my way to a meeting concerning it right now. I guess with a little luck we’ll be home in a few days.” Morham said optimistically, though he doubted it would be that easy.

“That’s good,” Fitch said. “Come tell me what happened once the briefing is over. I think I need to rest now, being in close proximity to other people tend to wear me down a little.”

“The feelings?” Morham asked.

“Your feelings to be precise, I have my hands full with my own, adding to that doesn’t exactly help.” Fitch laughed, this time with a slightly more sane tone.

“Ah, I see, I’ll get back to you once I’m done then.” Morham said, a little disturbed at the thought of others knowing him that intimately.

He looked back one final time before exiting the quarters, to see the Ghost crawling back into bed, how very different he seemed now.

* * * *

The odd looking survivors from the Enterprise could be seen in the Jedi temple once again, as they were walking down yet another one of the myriad corridors occupying the huge structure. But this time the entire bridge crew had been allowed to be there, as well as Morham and Thalas of course. Cartaine was at the head of the small column, leading the party towards one of the smaller rooms that had been renovated to serve as a military briefing room during the war.

For most of them, this was the first time they had been allowed inside the Temple, and wonder was clearly visible on their faces. Picard’s description hadn’t quite prepared them for the whole experience, and they now understood that nothing, short of actually being there, could do that.

Data kept peppering Cartaine with questions about virtually everything that came to his mind, the history of the Jedi, their doctrine, members and even questions concerning the nature of the force itself.

For some reason Captain Picard found the constant babbling calming, perhaps it was because it was something familiar in this otherwise unfamiliar place, though he guessed that Cartaine wasn’t quite as happy about it.

“Ah, here we are,” Cartaine exclaimed, with a softer “Finally.” added afterwards. Picard and Riker exchanged knowing glances, understanding that Data had indeed managed to irritate the Jedi, although Cartaine had kept insisting that Jedi didn’t become irritated when asked about it.

The entourage filed in through a small doorway, into a dimly lit room that had a very spartan feel to it. It was nowhere near as grand as the Council room, or many of the other halls and chambers they had seen during their time in the temple. It seemed as if practicality had been what the people who had designed this room had been thinking about. It was circular in build, with cascading rows of seats rising up from the center floor on all sides. In the middle of the room there was a small table with a built-in console that harbored a lot of controls on it. A large screen on one of the walls completed the scenery.

There were also a lot of people there, most of them Picard had never seen before, but from their uniforms and their demeanor he guessed they were all military personnel of one sort or another, and of a quite a high rank too.

A few of the clones could also be seen, their identical faces and voices managing to spook the strangers a little, although they by now should have gotten used to it.

The memory of when he had first seen them on the Stalwart was still vivid in Picards mind, how odd and unnatural they had seemed to him then.

“We meet again, Captain Picard.” A voice from the Captain’s side said. It was Admiral Roth, sitting alone on one of the empty rows of seats.

“Admiral, it’s nice to see a familiar face among all the unfamiliar ones.” Picard said, a genuine smile on his face. Anyone he knew was a welcomed sight indeed. Discussing military matters with a room full of strangers wasn’t something Picard liked, but perhaps with Roth there, it would be a little easier. Not that military affairs would ever be something he would get comfortable with. Not even the ever present threat from the Borg or the Dominion had managed to accomplish that.

“Likewise, here, why don’t you join me, it’ll be some time before the rest of the people is assembled, and I’d like to hear what’s been happening since our trip arrival on Coruscant.” Roth said, motioning the Captain to take a seat beside him.

And Picard did just that. They soon found themselves chatting away like the two of them had been age old friends.

The rest of Picard’s following took up seats around the Captain and the Admiral, each eagerly watching their surroundings, studying the people and trying to guess as to what was to come.

Cartaine appeared to recognize one of the clones and walked over to join him. Riker, who thought the clones a bit of an enigma, found it strange that Cartaine would be such good friends with one of them. An assumption he made when he saw the way they greeted each others, apparently the two were old friends.

The waiting went on for a few more minutes, but soon, everybody who was coming had arrived, and the briefing was ready to begin.

Mace Windu, who Picard had first seen in the council room, stepped out onto the floor and took up position beside the console. A flick of his wrist and the lights in the room dimmed. The people quieted in anticipation of what was to come, everybody’s eyes watching the Jedi intently.

“Most of you probably don’t yet know why this meeting has been called together, so I’m going to start by filling you in on what’s been happening these last few days.” Windu said, tapping a few buttons on the console beside him and bringing up a holographic projection depicting a star chart of their entire galaxy.

He zoomed in on the area where the anomaly had been, and where the Enterprise had come through, telling the audience of everything involved. The ambush by the Separatist fleet, the arrival of the strange Enterprise and the subsequent escape aboard the Stalwart was all laid out in excruciating detail.

He went on to explain how the strange survivors had told them they were from an alternate reality, at which point the room filled with murmurs and whispers, several of the people turning around to look at Picard’s crew.

Most of the people there weren’t quite sure what to make of that part of the story. Alternate realities had never before been encountered before, at least not from what any of them had ever heard, but then again the Jedi weren’t exactly the kind of people who played pranks on others, or lied either for that matter.

“Since that initial contact with our extra-dimensional guests and the skirmish with the enemy, a few discoveries have been made and a few decisions reached.” Windu said with a slightly raised voice, regaining the full attention of the audience who a second ago seemed more interested in discussing the strangers with each other then listening to the Jedi.

“The Enterprise, although coming from a technologically less advanced culture then our own, have in it’s possession certain devices that could lead to the Separatists gaining a major advantage in the ongoing war should they be able to reverse engineer these curiosities. That’s why the Jedi council feel that it’s imperative we regain control of the ship. And it’s also because of this that we have all been gathered here today. You have all been selected to play a part in the mission to recapture the Enterprise. I will now turn you over to Admiral Roth and Jedi Knight Cartaine, who have been appointed command of the mission to recapture the Enterprise.”

Captain Picard was a little surprised when he heard Roth’s name come up, and even more so when he heard Cartaine’s name. From what he had gathered from his previous encounters with those two, Cartaine was nothing but a low level Jedi, not even carrying the title of master yet, and from what the Captain had understood, tasks like these were usually given to members holding the previously mentioned rank. Perhaps it was a test of sorts for the Jedi?

As for Roth, he had been commanding a small fleet on a minor scouting mission, a seemingly unimportant task in the grand scheme of this war. And now he had received charge of a mission which could either help the Republic win the war, or doom them to defeat, a strange decision indeed.

Not that the Captain felt dismayed by this in the least, quite the opposite in fact. Both men had proven themselves very capable, and Picard trusted them, if anyone, to get the job done.

“Thank you, Jedi Master Windu.” Roth said, taking his place in the middle of the room, with Cartaine right beside him.

“No doubt you are all as bewildered by this news as I first was when I heard of it.” Roth began. “But just to make things clear, it is true, and recovering the Enterprise should be considered top priority. So to start off, I’m glad to be able to give you some good news. An informant, stationed on a Separatist research base on a planet in the Serina system, contacted us yesterday with news of a strange looking ship arriving there for study. The description he gave matches that of the Enterprise.”

“And that’s not all. It would seem as if the Separatists don’t yet know what it is they have in their possession, as the research base in question isn’t one of their most prestigious ones, and only lightly defended. Hence, the mission to regain control of the ship should not be all that difficult and only a minimum of resources will be allocated for it. It is however, important that we move fast, before the Separatists learn the true nature of the Enterprise, and send it over to a more fortified position. Were this to happen, we could loose track of it forever.”

The Admiral paused briefly to discuss something with Cartaine and almost immediately the people sitting on the stairs lining the room striked up their own conversations.

They were both excited and disturbed by the things that they had just learned. Revolutionary new technology for instance, such things had been practically unheard of in their galaxy for thousands of years. It was thought that they had reached a sort of technological peak, with nowhere else to go. And so, every year the ships got a little faster, the weapons a little stronger and kitchen appliances a little easer to use. But no new revolutionary forms of technology had been discovered for thousands of years.

“Gentlemen, if you please.” Admiral Roth interjected, trying to get the attention of the men, so he could move on with the briefing.

The room quieted down once more, as everybody was eager to hear the rest of whatever Roth had to say.

“I and Cartaine here were selected to draw up the battleplans, and as such we will now go over them in detail, but first, a little background on the planet and the base itself.” He started, pausing to take a sip of water from a nearby glass, how he hated giving briefings like these.

He pressed a few buttons on the console beside him and an image of planet popped up. It was white in color, with splotches of blue visible here and there.

“This, my fellow officers, is our target, Serina VI.” He said, pointing at the planet. “It’s a frozen world, covered mostly in ice and snow, with a day-time temperature of about minus twenty degrees Celsius. There is some vegetation and meager animal life present on the planet, but for the larger part, it’s barren.”

Roth tapped a few controls on the console and an overhead image of the research station and the nearby terrain popped up on the larger monitor, while the holographic projector changed to display the research station in three dimensional wire-frame view, instead of the planet itself.

The base looked more like the ruins of some ancient civilization, or perhaps an old fort, then a sophisticated military research base, Picard thought. Probably just to camouflage it if anyone was to stumble across it accidentally. It was made almost entirely out of a gray stone that had cracked and splinted in places. There was of course the occasional piece of technology visible on it too, most obviously a large number of smaller weapons emplacements, and other more scientifically inclined instruments.

It was situated at the end of a long and spacious canyon, with the ground there made of sheer ice, probably a long frozen over river or somesuch. The fact that it was located in a canyon meant ground access was restricted from all but one direction. A direction that was easily monitored and controlled since it was nothing more then a large ice-field.

Worthy of note was also that the base itself was comprised of three separate buildings. The largest, and obviously the main structure where all the research was done, was built into the rockface itself, with the interior most likely continuing on into the stone. The two other buildings were much smaller, and were placed on opposing sides on the canyon. From the looks of it, they had to be guard towers of some sort, a theory further confirmed with the large number of turrets built into it.

“The assault itself will be split into two parts. The first part, which will involve distracting the nearby Separatist space forces, will be lead by me. And the second part, namely the landing of troops on the surface of Serina VI and the main assault on the base will be lead by my colleague Cartaine.”

Admiral Roth paused once again and tapped a few controls on the nearby console, changing the holographic view to that of a small cluster of stars, all in close proximity to each other. Two systems were highlighted, the first one titled Serina and the second Bellech.

“And as I will be in charge of the first part of the assault, I will begin by outlaying my plans first. After which Cartaine will elaborate on his. As you can see here, the Separatists have no ships in the Serina system itself. This is an effort to further conceal their operations there, the fleet tasked with the defense of the system is in fact located here in stead,” Roth said, pointing at the Bellech system.

“The fleet is close enough to make a short jump to Serina, should it come under attack, yet far away enough so that the connection between the two systems would be hard to make. Lucky for us, our informant was able to pinpoint the location of the research base. Without him we would most likely never have located it.”

Data, who had been following the briefing with a keen interest, couldn’t help himself but comment on the deployment strategies of the Separatists. He did manage to whisper it quietly to the Captain though, and not disrupt the Admiral and his ongoing briefing.

“A wise precaution, Sir, if the Republic found a previously unimportant system so heavily defended for a prolonged period of time, they would undoubtedly become suspicious and set up recon missions to find out exactly why they are guarding the system. But neither could the Separatist leave the base completely undefended. A most intriguing compromise if I may say so.”

“Yes, yes, Data, but let’s just hear what the Admiral has to say for the moment, we can discuss the finer points of the assault later.” Picard said, trying to get the android to quiet down.

“…And so, I will lead a small taskforce, consisting of six Venator-class Destroyers, and nine of the smaller Acclamator-class assault ships, to carry out the distraction. They will all of course also carry a full compliment of fighters, to pacify any enemy droid starfighters. This force should be more then sufficient for the task. And although our objective is nothing more then the distraction of the defensive fleet, the Jedi thought it prudent that the enemy ships be destroyed completely while the chance presented itself. For every ship the CIS looses, we come a little closer to victory, as their numbers are already dwindling after the fiasco at Coruscant.” The Admiral said.

“The exact size and disposition of the enemy force is not known, but our informant has given a rough estimate, placing the number of capital ships at roughly a dozen and a half, in other words, a force a lot less potent then my own. Even if they have a larger force victory should come easy.”

“And that concludes my part of the assault, Cartaine will continue.” He said motioning to Cartaine to take his place.

Cartaine took up position next to the console, bringing the view of the base back up again. “While the Admiral is busy with the enemy space forces, I will launch the ground assault. This part will be a little less straight forward then the Admiral’s plan though, and the ground assault will actually be split into two different parts.”

“The first part, Clone Commander Kisto will lead.” Cartaine said, motioning towards one of the clones, the one he had greeted so warmly when they had first met, Picard noted.

“It will also be the main part of the assault. A detachment of clone troopers, as well as five AT-TEs will land via Republic gunboats on the surface of Serina VI and begin attacking the research station from the front. Keep in mind that although it is only a research station it is still quite heavily defended by ground troops, so fighting will be intense, but losses are expected to be at a minimum. There will undoubtedly be a large detachment of battle droids kept inactive inside the compound, only to be activated in the case of an assault. In addition to this, our informant says there are several small gun emplacements, as well as a small number of tanks inside the base itself, ready to be activated at a moments notice.”

“The second part will be a lot more covert, and it’s mostly because of our man on the inside we were able to come up with this at all. I’ve chosen to lead this endeavor myself.”

Cartaine punched a few keys on the console, changing the holographic three-dimensional view of the base so that it now also showed what looked like a complex system of tunnels in the nearby rockface.

“It would seem that the mountainside surrounding the research station isn’t all stone, as it has a number of natural crystalline caverns running to and fro inside it, as I have depicted in the hologram. One of the passages runs very close to the edge of the mountainside and it is our belief that a number of explosives could make a hole in the rock, giving us direct access into the compound itself, bypassing the larger part of the defensive force and the two guard towers, which will already be fully engaged with the Republic forces when this happens. With a little luck, this force will go largely unnoticed by the enemy, at least before it’s too late for them to notice it.”

The people gathered in the briefing room were a little surprised when the Jedi was suddenly interrupted by a man most of them had never seen before, a man wearing a strange uniform, one that definitely had nothing to do with the Republic.

“I have a suggestion,” The man said. “If I may?”

“This, my fellow officers, is Captain Jean-Luc Picard, commander of the Enterprise, before it was lost that is. Go right ahead Captain Picard.” Cartaine said.

“Am I right in my assumption that this second part of the assault will be less dangerous then the main one?” He asked.

“That’s our belief yes, but I don’t need to tell you that combat situations are seldom all that predictable.”

“Yes, so I’ve noticed. But be that as it may, the suggestion I’m about to make involves the crew of my ship and myself. I know we aren’t trained in ground assault tactics and that our experience with battles like these is very limited, but nevertheless I would like some of my own men to accompany this part of the assault. I believe we can be of some assistance once we have reached the Enterprise itself.” Picard recommended.

Cartaine’s face widened in a smile. “Actually, I was just about to ask you if you and your men would join us, for that exact reason.” He said.

When he had initially thought up the plan, he was a little unsure of how the Captain would react to his proposal, as he and his group had been under a lot of stress lately. But apparently that was not going to be a problem.

“In that case, we will gladly join you.” Picard said with a bow and sat back down. He could feel himself filling with hope once again. All was not lost. Indeed things were looking up for him and his crew.

“Our part will be to proceed directly into the compound itself once we clear the caverns. Your crew will be accompanied by some of our elite troops, and me of course. Once inside the base, we should proceed directly to the Enterprise and prepare it for take-off, if that is possible. Should things go badly, we might need to make a quick exit. And if the Separatists realize our interest in the ship, they might decide to try to destroy it, to prevent it from falling into our hands.”

“And that, ladies and gentlemen, is the plan. You will all be provided with details on the mission and your own specific part in it of course, but if you have any general questions on the mission, now would be a good time to ask them.”

The room burst into murmurs and whispers, as everybody started discussing the mission with the people sitting beside them. None of them really felt any more enlightened by what had just been said, but at least they knew what they were supposed to do. One of them raised a hand, obviously with a question on his mind.

“Yes, Captain Ravatto, you have a question.” Roth said, motioning for the man to speak up.

“These technological advancements you mentioned, what exactly are they?”

“I’m afraid that matter is still on a need-to-know basis, but truth be told, I don’t think anyone knows exactly what the fallout of acquiring this technology will be. All I can say, for now, is that preventing the Separatist from getting that ship is of the utmost importance if we want to be on the winning side of this war.”

The people started discussing the issues with each other again, but no one seemed to have any further questions.

“Well then, if there are no more questions, I suggest we all go prepare, we leave at twenty-two hundred hours.” Roth said, and with that, the meeting was adjourned.

* * * *

On the way back to the apartment the Jedi council had provided for him, Picard was stopped by a large, blue skinned alien, identifying himself as Mas Amedda. He said that the Chancellor wished to meet with him before they depart from Coruscant.

Picard, not wanting to seem unaccommodating, agreed to the meeting, although he by now was starting to feel a little tired of the constant diplomacy. Saying no to the man who in all likelihood was the most powerful being in the entire Galaxy, especially now that he had received special emergency powers because of the war, would probably not have been the best of ideas.

But for some reason, the notion of one single man wielding that much power troubled Picard. He remembered the phrase ‘power corrupts, and absolute power corrupts absolutely.

“Ah, you must be Captain Picard,” The Chancellor said with a beaming smile as soon as Picard stepped into his office. “The man I’ve been hearing so much about lately.”

Picard took a cautious step forward, taking in the room itself. It was much like his own apartment he noted, simple, yet elegant somehow, a theme that seemed to be everywhere in Coruscant. Red and gray were the main colors in the room, and there was of course the ever present huge windows overlooking the cityscape outside.

“Yes, and you, I presume, are Chancellor Palpatine.” Picard responded, trying his best to mimic Palpatine’s positive expression.

“Indeed I am, I’m sorry I haven’t been able to see you at a earlier time, but there are so many things that need tending to right now, I trust you understand.” Palpatine continued, getting up from behind his desk and walking over to Picard.

“Of course, I’ve had my hands full myself as of late.” Picard answered politely.

“Yes, no doubt you have, the Jedi have probably been questioning you tirelessly. In any case, I thought it prudent that the two of us make proper introductions and have a face to face meeting, we are after all, representatives of two different governments.” The Chancellor said.

“Naturally, although I’m not quite sure how I can be of assistance.” Picard said. “I’ve explained everything I know to the Jedi council already, and I trust the reports have been made available to you.”

“Yes, yes, I’ve gone over those reports. They make for an amusing and interesting reading, but I’ve always preferred a more personal contact with issues of importance, and this, this is an issue unlike anything before. Trust me when I say that meeting people from other dimensions doesn’t come along everyday.”

“Ah, on that point I believe you chancellor,” Picard said. “It isn’t exactly everyday activity for the Federation either.”

“The Federation,” Palpatine echoed, as if pondering the subject. “A collection of worlds and species that share in the opinion that self-improvement and peaceful coexistence is a virtue above all else.” He said, recounting what the report had said on that matter. “A most noble notion indeed, much like some of the tenets the Republic holds dear. Though the rules and regulations of your government might be a little more strict then the Republic’s, when it comes to its members.”

“I’m afraid I haven’t had the time to go over the Republic’s inner workings in any great detail,” Picard said. “Though compared to the Republic, the Federation is a lot smaller, and only one of several governments in our own galaxy. We haven’t actually even explored the entire galaxy yet.”

“Ah yes, you haven’t invented the hyperdrive yet, if I recall correctly.”

“Indeed not, there are civilizations out there that have propulsion systems that are equally impressive as yours of course, but the Federation is still restricted to warp travel.”

“Hmm, I see,” Palpatine said.

For some reason Picard was starting to feel like he was being interrogated and evaluated, and not like he was just having a simple conversation. There was something not quite right with the Chancellor. He said, and did all the right things, from a diplomatic point of view. But still, there was something that didn’t sit quite well with Picard when it came to Palpatine. Something underneath the surface, something hidden.

“I read in the reports that you were transported here by some sort of an, spatial anomaly, is that right?” Palpatine continued.

“Yes, we were in fact studying one of them just before we were accidentally pulled into it and transported here.”

“One? There are more then one of them?”

“Three, actually, although I have no idea where the two others are located.” Picard said.

“I see, and they still remain active, travel through them is still possible?” Palpatine kept on asking, his voice now a little colder then it had been before.

“To the best of my knowledge, yes.” Picard answered simply.

He was starting to feel very troubled by this meeting, as if somehow he was giving away more information then he wanted to, to a man he didn’t want to give it to non-the-less.

“Chancellor,” He said, stopping in his tracks and facing the white haired man. “If you don’t mind, I really think I should be joining my crew, we are scheduled to depart later this evening, and there are still a lot to do and say.”

In truth, Picard had more then enough time, he just wanted to get out of that room.

“Yes, of course.” Palpatine said, smiling a little.

“But I trust I will be seeing representatives from your galaxy soon enough, perhaps even you, we can continue what has been started here at that point. I wish you luck on your mission, and hope to see you again at some point.” He said with a slight bow.

* * * *

A while later, on a planet far removed from the shining light that was Coruscant, a planet called Utapau, a mechanical figure rushed into a room, meant primarily to facilitate communication.

Moments ago the figure had received word that the Dark Lord himself had summoned him, wanting a meeting, and he didn’t want to keep the man waiting.

The room was barren, except for a small console in the middle.

The gestalt tapped a few controls on the console and knelt, bowing its head, as if to show respect, just as a bluish hologram formed above the console.

The image was that of a man, cloaked in black and shrouded from view.

“Yes, Lord Sidious.” The figure prompted, with a voice that had a metallic sound to it.

“General Grievous,” The image spoke. “Something strange has happened, something not even I have been able to foresee. You are to go to the research base at Serina VI and reinforce the troops stationed there, as well as the fleet assigned to defend it.”

“It will be done, my lord.” Grievous responded, knowing that questioning the orders of a Dark Lord might prove fatal.

“The station will be attacked later this day by a sizable Republic force, along with which there will be… others. I want these people either killed or brought to me, they are not to be allowed to escape. See to it personally, General.”

“As you wish, Lord Sidious.”

And with that, the communication cut off, leaving the half biological, half mechanical General alone in the dark, contemplating the orders he had just received.


Author's notes:
You might recognize the research base from Battlefront if you've played it. The map was called Rhen Var, one of my favourites.

Author's Notes:
- The Personal Shields i have used in this chapter have been taken from the game KOTOR.
- The passing destruction thingy was inspired by a spacebattle flick i saw on this site som time ago, i can't remember its name but it involved the old BSG and SW.
- I'm not completly happy with how the spacebattle turned out, if you have any thoughts on how to improve it, let me know.


Chapter 11: The Battle for the Enterprise

Apparently everything in this reality was made big, Picard concluded, looking around the cavernous hangar bay of the Acclamator-class transport he currently found himself in.

Cartaine had called it a ‘troop transport’, yet the ship was bigger then Picard’s own Sovereign-class starship, and that was one of the largest ship types the Federation employed.

Was there no limit to the resources these people had, Picard had to wonder.

The hangar bay itself was bustling with activity. Everywhere the Captain looked he could see clone troopers preparing themselves for battle, large hulking machines called ‘AT-TEs’ were being fastened to specially outfitted gunships and the ships themselves inspected for perhaps the third time now.

A good thing too since Picard himself was about to be ferried down to the surface by one of them soon.

The clone troopers weren’t clad the same way they had been when they were on the Stalwart though, they were now wearing armor that was meant for operations in a cold and frozen environment, much like the armor Ki-Adi Mundi and his troops were currently wearing on their campaign.

There were also a multitude of engineers and various other support personnel in the hangar bay at that very moment.

An army, capable of subduing even the most potent of defenses. At least that was how it seemed to the Captain. Yet Cartaine had referred to them as a ‘meager’ assault force. Picard shuddered at the thought of what the Jedi might consider a real army.

The entire remaining crew of the Enterprise was there as well, readying themselves for the task that was ahead of them. The Captain had realized that some of them might still be in quite a fragile state after the loss of their ship, so when he had told the crew about the mission, he had also said that no one was being forced along, that the retaking of the Enterprise was entirely voluntary. Yet, not one of them had declined to take part in the mission. Picard couldn’t help but feel a little pride because of that, they were indeed a fine crew, and he was lucky to have them.

The hangar suddenly rang out with the sound of a blaster rifle discharging, startling Picard and breaking him from his thoughts.

“It’s alright, it’s alright!” He heard one of his crewmen shouting. “Everything is under control. I just pressed the wrong trigger.”

“The wrong trigger?” Clone Commander Kisto, who stood at the Captains side, echoed.

He turned his own blaster rifle over in his hands, looking it over thoughtfully. “There are more then one?” He finally added in a sarcastic tone. “Perhaps it was a mistake issuing them blaster rifles.” He went on.

“Come now, it’s not like we can send them into battle with nothing but their fists.” Cartaine replied.

“…Yet we don’t have time to give them the proper training in how to handle a blaster rifle either.” The Clone Commander finished for him.

“I never said the situation was perfect.” Cartaine smiled. “But don’t worry too much about it Commander, with any luck they will have no reason to fire the things. And even if they did, you will be too busy ducking blaster fire from the droids to be able to care.”

“Ah, yes, how very reassuring.” Kisto frowned.

“Wow!” Geordi exclaimed, approaching his Captain and the others arrayed around him.

“This thing feel’s great!” He added, indicating the suit of armor he and the others had been issued. It was nothing like the Clone Trooper’s combat suits, but rather made of a more flexible and soft material. “How much punishment can this thing take?”

“Well, I wouldn’t recommend running into blaster fire, but it should protect you from anything but a direct hit.” Commander Kisto replied. “And by protect I mean you will most likely survive, with only the loss of the limb that is actually hit.”

“Bah!” Morham said. “I still say real men wear power enhancing armor like mine.” Proudly pointing at his own suit of armor. “Besides, it makes you look more manly then wearing those strange looking jumpsuits.”

“I very much doubt that that thing could even stop a simple blaster pistol.” Kisto said, a little annoyed by the marine and his refusal to wear the armor they provided instead of his own. ‘He felt more comfortable with his own armor’ he had said. Poppycock! That thing would most likely end up killing him, Kisto though, shaking his head disapprovingly. At least he had accepted the blaster rifle he was offered.

“Oh, that reminds me.” Cartaine blurted. “The council thought it prudent to give the bridge crew something a little extra.” He added, walking over to a nearby container and popping it open.

“What are those?” Commander Riker asked, seeing the strange looking devices inside.

“Personal shield emitters.” Cartaine said, handing one over to each of the senior officers.

“Shield emitters? You mean they’re like the shields on a ship, only meant for an individual?” The Captain asked, looking at the odd looking device.

“Exactly.”

“How do they work?” Worf asked.

“Oh, right.” Cartaine said, picking up one of the emitters himself. “All you do is slap it on your wrist like this.” He said, doing just that. “And then when you’re about to enter combat you activate it like this.” He continued, fiddling around with the controls set into the surface of the armband like device.

The area surrounding the Jedi seemed to vibrate for a second, indicating that the shield had just been activated.

“Nice,” Morham said. “But I doubt I could fit that thing over my wrist.”

“Not with that armor on anyway.” Kisto added.

“Exactly,” Morham agreed, shooting the annoying clone an irritated look. “So I’ll just have to decline the offer.”

“Wow, there’s a shocker.” The clone said, rolling his eyes.

“I’ll show you something shocking, you prancy little-“ Morham said, his patience all but lost. Luckily he was interrupted by Cartaine before he could get his hands on the clone Commander.

“Easy there boys, save the fighting for the Separatists.” He said, stepping between the two men.

“Right,” Morham said, backing away. “Just make sure clone boy there doesn’t open his mouth again.”

Kisto just shook his head in amusement at that.

“What about you Thalas?” Cartaine asked, shifting the focus elsewhere. “Since we couldn’t find any armor in your size on such short notice, you should at least take a shield emitter.” He said, holding out one of the devices to the Protoss

“I already carry one.” The alien answered simply.

“What? I didn’t see you take one.” Cartaine said questioningly.

“I think he means his own shield.” Morham said.

“You have your own shield?” Cartaine asked, a little surprised.

“I have.”

“He makes one with that… that brain power of his…” Morham explained, not quite sure how to do just that. “I saw a few of his buddies using them too, handy things.”

“Really? I’d like to know a little more about-“ Cartaine started.

“Perhaps after the battle.” Thalas interrupted before the Jedi had even managed to voice the entire question.

“Right, after the battle.” Cartaine agreed.

“Oh, and one more thing, I suggest you still try to keep out of harms way, the shield has a limited energy supply, which is depleted with every hit you take. It will eventually burn itself out and then you’re on your own again. Needless to say, you don’t want to find yourself in the middle of a hailstorm of blaster bolts when that happens.”

“That’s one nice piece of tech,” Geordi said, looking over the device he had strapped to his wrist. “But if it’s actually as effective as you say, why don’t you issue it to all the troopers, or yourself for that matter.”

“Nice things usually come with high prices, and that’s true for these as well.” The Jedi explained. “Usually they’re only given to elite commando units, or high ranking non-clone officers. It would simply be too expensive to issue them the all the troopers. And as for us Jedi, we have our own tricks to keep out of harms way.”

The conversation was suddenly cut off by the inter-comm coming alive. “Reversion to normal space in ten minutes, Troopers, take your places.”

The hangar bay erupted into chaos, with clone troopers running to their designated gunships and boarding their AT-TEs.

Cartaine leaned over towards the Clone Commander, “So, are you ready for the battle?” He asked. A moot question of course, since the clones did nothing but prepare for their upcoming fights.

“Yes, Sir, as ready as I ever will be.” Came the predicted answer.

“Good,” Cartaine said, looking back over his shoulder at the Federation crewmen. “What do you think of them?” He asked the Commander.

“They aren’t soldiers, but they have seen some combat, so they will probably be alright.” The Commander answered.

“Actually, I meant more along the lines of what-do-you-think-of-our-interconnected-universes.” Cartaine laughed.

“Oh, I wouldn’t know about that, Sir. I try not to think too much about things like that.”

“But you must have some thoughts on the matter.” Cartaine said.

“Well, the prospect does seem somewhat intriguing, a whole new galaxy and all that. I suppose the Jedi are practically bouncing off the walls, because of it.

“I suppose you could say that.” Cartaine laughed.

“Well,” the Commander said, putting his helmet on. “If you decide to make war with someone on the other side, you know who to contact. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to look after the men. Good luck, Sir.” He said, turning around and walking towards a large detachment of clone troopers standing at attention.

“Good luck to you too,” Cartaine said, more to himself then the Commander. “The war is nearing its end, dying now would serve no point.” He added.

Picard turned towards his crew, trying to come up with something inspiring to say. He wished he could say with confidence that everything was going to be all right, but truth be told, right now he had no idea what was going to happen.

“Listen up!” He finally managed to say with a voice demanding notice. The crew, still fiddling with their new blasters quickly hushed and came to attention, listening intently to what the Captain had to say.

“The most important couple of hours in our entire lives are about to begin,” He started, pacing up and down in front of the rows of crewmen, eyeing each and every one of them carefully.

“Whether we succeed here today or not will decide if we ever get to go home again, whether we will ever be able to see our families and friends again. But if you follow your Starfleet training you will succeed, of that, I am sure.”

“Now, let’s go get our ship back!” He ended, a remark that resulted in a loud cheer reverberating through the vast hangar bay, filling the very air itself with the grim determination and iron will of the Starfleet crewmen.

To Picard those screams sounded like those of a people who had gone too long without hope, a people who had too much sorrow and despair in their hearts, but at last had found some measure of reassurance to cling to.

He himself even dared to hope things were going to be all right once more.

“Go make a Captain proud,” He added in a whisper to himself. “Your families depend on it.”

* * * *

Meanwhile, in hyperspace, some distance from the two Acclamators preparing to make landfall on Serina VI, an agitated Admiral Roth waited impatiently for the hyperspace reversion countdown to finish.

“3… 2… 1… Exiting hyperspace now!” Said a crewman, his voice carried over the intercom throughout the ship, preparing the crew for what was about to happen.

The torrent of swirling blue lights outside the ship changed to that of realspace, as the chaotic eddies of hyperspace gave way to that of the normal view of stars and black, empty space.

A small white and blue planet, surrounded by a large number of smaller objects also streaked into sight. The smaller objects being nothing less then the enemy’s defensive fleet he had been dispatched to disable, Roth realized.

“Size and disposition of the enemy fleet, tactical officer.” The Admiral demanded.

“I’m picking up a sizable force of capital ships, eleven Munificent-class Frigates, six Recusant–class Destroyers and a Trade Federation Battleship.” The reply came.

“A Trade Federation Battleship?” Roth echoed a little surprised. There had been no reports of such a ship by the Republic’s informant. This fight was going to be a lot tougher with one of those six kilometer long behemoths around. Tough, but doable.

“Something wrong?” Fitch, who was standing beside the Admiral, asked.

“It’s nothing. Nothing we can’t deal with anyway.” Roth answered. “Are you sure you’re well enough to be here? It hasn’t been more then a day since you first woke up.”

“I’ll be fine, don’t worry about it.” Fitch replied evenly. And indeed he had recovered a lot since his initial awakening and brief chat with Morham. He had found a way to filter out other peoples emotions, and so, he found that he could concentrate completely on his own feelings now. It was still a tiresome task, but manageable nonetheless.

The Admiral tapped a few of the controls on the console in front of him, opening a communications channel to the rest of his fleet. “This is Admiral Roth to all ships, take up attack formation and launch all fighters.”

The space around the larger Republic capital ships came alive then, with hundreds of smaller fighter craft screaming out of their hangar bays to form wings and take up escort positions around the larger capital ships, ready to engage any and all enemy droid fighters pitted against them.

They didn’t have to wait long for the Separatists to respond in kind either, as the tactical screen in front of Roth filled with a multitude of smaller dots, representing Vulture-droids and droid Tri-fighters that had just been deployed. They far outnumbered his own fighters, but that didn’t bother him too much, as it was a well known fact that the Republic fighter craft were far more advanced then their droid counterparts. A droid mind was excellent when it came to targeting other ships and calculating attack vectors, but they lacked the deviousness and improvisational skills of a biological mind. In short, a computer mind was fooled far too easily.

“Fighters have deployed and are currently standing by, Sir.” One of the younger crewmen said.

“Good, signal the offensive wings to start their attack run on the enemy ships.” Roth said, looking up from his console and out over the battlefield to be.

“Aye, Sir.” The crewman replied, relaying the order to the fighters outside.

Roth’s tactic when it came to using fighters in spacebattles was very straightforward, and from what he knew, used by most other officers in the Republic spacefleet. The first thing was to divide the fighters in two separate groups, one that took up defensive positions with the fleet and another that attacked the enemy vessels. The defensive fighters would then be used to intercept any incoming enemy vessels and try to make their attacks on the friendly capital ships as hard as possible, while the attacking group would be the offensive fighters and their mission would be to assault the enemy capital ships, harassing them and making surgical strikes once the shields were down, taking out weapon emplacement and other vital systems.

Ironic, the Admiral thought. Since most of the time the enemy would be using the exact same tactic. In those cases the one with the superior fighter force had the upper hand, forcing the enemy to take risks. Risks that ultimately cost more then they were worth. A good thing he was the one better equipped this time, the Admiral thought.

“Sir, a large number of enemy fighters are breaking off from their escorting positions,” The crewman said, trying to interpret their intentions. “Look’s like they’re heading straight for us, weapons charged and ready.”

So, there was going to be no bold and risky plan involving the fighters by the enemy this day, strange, seeing as how he currently had the upper hand, Roth thought.

“Our attack fighters will be in range of the enemy fighters in twenty seconds.” The crewman said.

“The moment of passing destruction.” Roth whispered, more to himself then anyone else, thought the always alert crewman at his side managed to overhear him.

“Sir?” He asked, not understanding.

“Ah, it’s just a term I made up,” Roth explained. “A term for what we are just about to see, the moment when the two attacking fighter forces meet for the first time. It’s the point in the battle when the most fighters are destroyed in the shortest period of time, as both sides try to take out as many enemies while they pass by each other. Needless to say that maneuvering can be quite tricky when there is barely a few square meters of empty space that isn’t filled with weapons fire.”

“I see, Sir.” The crewman said, looking down at his console again and realizing that most of the smaller dots on his screen would soon be disappear. Funny, he had never really thought of them as fighter craft, the constant drilling and tactical simulations could do that to a mind. He now thought of them as nothing more then friendly dots on his screen that could take out the enemy dots.

Roth stepped away from the console he had been watching so intently these few brief moments before the battle began in full, and placed himself at the front of the bridge, looking out of the huge windows on the soon to be battleground. He needed to see this with his own eyes, he needed to feel the reality of it all, and not just watch a bunch of dots and lines of text on a screen.

* * * *

“This is Red Leader to all attacking fighters, set S-Foils in attack position and prepare to engage the enemy.” One of the three clones manning the lead ARC-170 starfighter ordered.

His orders were acknowledged quickly and soon all of the attacking fighters could be seen expanding, each of their two wings splitting up into two more wing like apparatuses. The process itself meant to further enhance the shields of the fighter and increase their combat effectiveness.

“Are you ready?” Red Leader asked the clone sitting behind him, the clone that controlled the weaponry on the starfighter.

“Yes, Sir.” Came the short answer.

“Good, we will be in firing range in five… four… three… two… one… mark.” Red Leader said, watching the indicators on the instruments in front of him closely.

At the same time he said mark, the cockpit filled with the sound of the two laser cannons firing, spitting out streaks of green energy at the fast approaching enemy.

Most of the fire missed the enemy starfighter completely, but one salvo managed to clip the wing of Vulture-droid and tearing it off from the main chassis. The droid lost its stability and tumbled around, finally being hit by another salvo and exploding, fired from another one of the Republic starfighters.

“Take evasive maneuvers!” Red Leader shouted in his comm, just as he himself banked and veered sharply to the left, as to avoid being hit by the incoming laser bolts from the multitude of enemy droidfighters. The vessel behind Red One wasn’t as fast though, and as a result, it now illuminated the nearby space in a great ball of fire.

Red Leader continued his sharp turning, veering from side to side, trying his best to dodge both the enemy fighters and their weapons as best he could. His fighter looked more like a nimble bird, tumbling about in a great storm, then a mechanical fighter surrounded by torrent of droids. The G-Forces would long since have smattered its occupants all over the windows, had it not been for the inertial dampening.

The gunners, both the rear and main one, kept their blasters firing in a steady rhythm, managing to take out the odd fighter here and there. The rear gunner was actually one of the great advantages this new ARC-170 fighter had, as the droid fighters had to actually turn their noses towards their enemy to fire.

“We will have cleared the enemy fighters soon, try to hold on just a while longer.” Red leader said. And then all that remains is the assault on the capital ships, he thought.

One of the fighters close by was hit then, not too severely though, one of the twin engines had caught fire but the fighter itself was still intact. This changed quite drastically however, as the clone pilot operating the fighter lost control of his ship and was thrown into the starfighter next to him, another Republic fighter. The two ships lit up in a massive explosion.

“We’re clear of the attacking enemy fighters.” Red Leader said, as soon as the last droid fighters had passed them.

“Proceed towards the enemy capital ships, ready proton torpedoes and take out as many of the defending fighters as possible, I want us to be in the clear and able to move about freely once our own capital ships have engaged the enemy.”

* * * *

“Our attacking starfighters have cleared the enemy attack wave and are now moving against the Separatist capital ships.” One of the sensor operators reported. “Our defensive starfighters are moving to intercept the attacking droids that made it through.”

Roth was still standing at the front of the bridge, silently staring out onto the battlefield. “What were our losses?” The Admiral finally asked. The explosions that had dotted the distant horizon a few moments ago had been too many to count and too generic to tell weather it was a droid fighter that was destroyed, or a Republic equivalent. Nevertheless the man thought it important to know exactly how many men he had lost during that brief moment.

“Scanners indicate that we lost twenty-seven starfighters.” The officer reported. “But the enemy lost at least twice that number.” He added, trying to shed a little positive light on the matter.

“Twenty-seven ships. That means eighty-one clone pilots.” Roth said solemnly.

“Well yes, Sir, but they’re only clones what-“ The sensors operator said, not quite understanding what the Admiral was feeling so bad about, but he was cut off before he had finished the sentence.

“They are clones, yes. But does that mean we should appreciate what they do any less then if it had been real people out there?” Roth said, his voice a lot sterner now.

The sensors officer didn’t quite know how to answer. Would he have been alone he would undoubtedly have said yes. The clones weren’t real people after all. But as the Admiral clearly felt differently, the officer settled for a “No, Sir.”

“Good, how long until our defensive fighters engage the enemy?” Roth asked, focusing on the task at hand once again.

“A little less then twenty seconds, Sir. Should I order the point defense lasers to target them once they are in range?”

“No, there are too many friendly fighters out there, we would be hitting them as well as the enemy. Wait until their numbers are thinned.”

“Aye, Sir.”

The starfighters defending the Stalwart and the rest of the ships in the taskforce soon found their quarry, and the firefight wasn’t far behind. Republic fighters engaged their droid counterparts, spewing their laser fire at them. The enemy naturally responded in kind, and soon the space in front of Roth was filled with fighter craft tumbling and rolling about, some trying hard to shake their enemy from their six, others trying to get a firing solution on their target.

The Admiral watched as one of the many Republic fighters got separated from the rest of its wing. Three vulture droids immediately braking off to follow, having spotted the easy prey. Roth didn’t need to continue watching to know what was about to happen, but he found himself compelled to do so anyway. One of the three enemy fighters started chasing the starfighter, blasting away at it but hitting nothing but empty space as it did so, the ARC-170 was too fast for it. But that didn’t really matter, as the droid fighter was using one of the standard pre-programmed attack routines Roth had seen so many times before. Its task was nothing more then to chase the enemy fighter into the firing arc of its two companions. The clone pilot no doubt knew this, but with a fighter as agile as a vulture droid on your tail, you don’t have a lot of room to maneuver. All the pilot could do right now was pray that the droids made a mistake in their attack, allowing him to break from the pursuit. But no such mistake was ever made, and soon Roth found himself looking on yet another fireball.

“What is the status of our fighters currently engaging the enemy capital ships? And how long before we are in firing range?” Roth asked.

“Our attacking forces are taking losses, but so too is the enemy. I’d say we still have the upper hand in that fight. And our Destroyers will be in weapons range in two minutes.”

Things were going perfectly, or at least as perfect as engagements like these could, Roth thought. In fact, things were a little too good right now.

“Something’s wrong.” Roth whispered to himself. “But what?”

* * * *

In the close-by system of Serina, a very different battle was about to begin. The two Acclamator-class Transports, who had been carrying the force supposed to assault the research station itself, had deployed their gunships, which were now descending towards the icy planet below.

Clone Commander Kisto stood in the transport area of one of those gunships, holding on to the railing above him, so that he wouldn’t loose his balance if they were forced to maneuver too sharply and the internal dampeners weren’t able to compensate for the sudden movement.

He glanced over the troopers standing next to him, inspecting them too see if there were any apparent problems. He didn’t expect to find any, but procedure still had to be followed, and right now procedure would have him inspect his soldiers one final time before planetfall.

And as he expected, they all seemed to be in perfect shape, just waiting for the gunship to touch down so they could all deploy.

“We have entered the lower atmosphere of the planet, opening side doors.” The pilot said, looking back at the soldiers behind him.

The two doors on either side of the ship hissed and slid open, exposing the troopers inside to the chill air and bright sunlight on the outside.

The day would be a beautiful one, the Clone Commander thought. The sun was high in the sky, its light as bright as a reactor about to breach and the snow and ice below them reflecting it was mesmerizing. The weather was clear enough so you could see even the most distant mountains on the horizon.

The compartment they were standing in was of course protected from the outside, in the sense that it was outfitted with inertial dampeners. Would it not have been, the troopers would have found themselves tossed out of the craft and on an intercept course with the ground beneath them by now.

Commander Kisto looked out at the other gunships that were flying in formation with them. Some were carrying detachments of clone troopers, just like the ship he was in, while others had been outfitted to carry the massive AT-TEs. The scene reminded him of a flock of angry birds descending on their pray.

“The canyon is just up ahead.” The pilot said.

And indeed, Kisto could already see the beginnings of the spacious chasm that would lead them to their target, up ahead in the distance. It wouldn’t be long now, he thought.

The gunships all started descending in an even faster pace, wanting to set down some distance from the base itself, on the sheer ice of the frozen up river that was the floor of the canyon.

“Have the Separatist forces spotted us yet?” The Commander asked the pilot.

But before he got his answer the skies around them filled with defensive laser fire, streaks of high-yield energy exploding all around them. A few bolts hit the ships, causing them to shake a little, but no real harm was done, the deflector shields made sure of that.

“The fire is too sporadic and not strong enough to pose a real threat.” The Pilot commented nonchalantly, continuing to guide his ship down to the ice.

But not many seconds after he had said that the gunship beside them was hit by several consecutive direct hits, causing its shields to fail instantly, and the front end to erupt into fire, shattering the cockpit. The ship buckled and tore itself apart in the air, loosing its grip on the AT-TE it had been carrying and dropping it in the process.

Kisto watched as the vehicle fell towards the ground beneath them, only to be intercepted by a rocky outcropping, the heavily armored vehicle demolishing the entire area. Not long after that it exploded in a brilliant flash of bright light, as its reactor had been breached and reached a critical state.

“That is, unless the enemy manages to hit us several times in rapid succession.” The Pilot added meekly.

“So it would appear,” Kisto agreed. “How long until we reach the drop point?”

“Less then a minute, Sir.”

“Good, tell the other gunships to head back towards the Acclamators as soon as the drop has been made, the fire will only intensify as we get closer, there’s no point in loosing any more ships, and our ground forces are better equipped to deal with this situation.”

“Understood, Sir.”

The seconds passed and Kisto felt a little irritated about not being able to do anything but wait. Another ship was lost during the descent, this one carrying troopers instead of an AT-TE.

Luckily the landing itself went a lot more smoothly then the descent, with no more equipment lost and all the troopers and vehicles being unloaded in mere seconds. The gunships swung around as soon as the deployment was complete to head back towards the skies.

The Commander took a look around at their drop off point, there were hundreds of clone troopers there, running around on the bare ice, supported by five of the heavy AT-TE assault walkers, who were taking up positions at the front of the assault force. The walkers were of course also loaded with troopers, but there was no reason for them to embark yet, as they would be a lot safer inside the armored hulls of those vehicles during their approach.

The fire from the base was still raining down on them, but the clones were a lot harder to target now that they were on the ground, and shrouded by the light mist that had settled in the base of the canyon, and so most of the fire ended up blowing huge holes in the frozen riverbed beneath them, instead of doing any actual damage to them.

“We proceed towards the base,” The Commander shouted over his comms, relaying the information to all the others on the ice. “The AT-TEs will take the lead, providing cover for the rest of the troopers.”

And so, the march on the research base began. The five lumbering walkers slowly made their way towards their target, watching and scanning for any threats along the way. But none presented themselves. Except for the constant stream of defensive turret fire, that by now had gotten a little more accurate. A few bolts hit the walking giants, impacting harmlessly of their hulls.

The enemy defensive turrets were, after all, designed as anti-infantry weaponry. They just didn’t carry enough of a kick to take on larger vehicles, not in the numbers they were evident in now in any case.

It didn’t take long before the research station was in sight, the silhouette of the two guard towers at its entrance visible through the light mist that the bright morning had brought with it. But just as the station was visible to the troopers, so too were the clones themselves exposed to the Separatist defenders.

The fire from the turrets intensified, as they now had a clear bead on their targets.

But now the AT-TEs were able to respond in kind. Their massive main canons powered up and targeted the distant base. The entire ice beneath the clones shook as the canons roared to life, firing their high-yield salvos at the enemy. Entire chunks of the guard towers were decimated and ripped from their structures, with smoldering rubble and charred ferrocrete being the only thing remaining were the vicious bolts had once struck. The main canons kept firing their relentless barrages, managing to weaken the defensive fire a little, as many of the turrets were incinerated.

Suddenly, seemingly out of nowhere, large yellow bolts of energy could be seen streaking through the air towards the advancing clones, and wherever they hit, destruction followed.

Commander Kisto saw one of his walkers completely destroyed and ripped apart by the opening salvo, the men hiding inside its hull never even seeing their own deaths coming.

“Tanks!” He screamed through his headset, trying to caution the rest of his advancing force. “All AT-TE units, concentrate fire on the enemy armor and bring the rocket infantry up from the rear!”

It didn’t take long before his orders were executed, the enemy armor wasn’t in sight yet, but their location could easily be calculated by watching the trajectory from where their fire was coming from. The massive turrets of the walkers swiveled into place, targeting those areas, and then burst into life once more.

A dozen clone troopers, all carrying massive shoulder mounted rocket launchers ran to the front of the entourage, taking up offensive positions. And soon the fire from the walkers was joined by rockets streaking through the air. The fire from the rocket infantry was a lot more sporadic then the fire from the walkers though, as they were unable to get a fixed lock on the enemy and much of their line of sight was by now covered by a layer of rubble from the guard towers.

The defensive turrets the base employed now targeted the rocket infantry instead, managing to blow away at least half of that force in just a few moments.

One of the enemy tanks managed to get in a lucky shot that missed a walker by a few meters and instead hit close enough to the troopers behind it to outright kill most of them in the ensuing blast and incapacitate the rest.

“Intensify fire!” Kisto screamed, not wanting to loose another group of men to a lucky shot.

“But Sir, the canons might overheat-” One of the gunners replied over the headset.

“If we don’t intensify fire now, overheating canons will be the least of our problems.” Kisto replied simply. “Reroute some of the power from the shields to the forwards guns, and have them target the remaining turrets on the guardtowers.” He continued.

He knew this would be a huge gamble, if he didn’t manage to cover the area in a heavy enough bombardment, thus beating the enemy back and forcing them to take cover, he might soon loose his entire attacking force.

The AT-TEs continued their fire, but instead of letting the barrels cool completely before firing another salvo they now increased their rate of fire, hoping to beat the enemy into submission and force him to fall back and take cover. Meanwhile the three forward canons on each of the hulks started their own assault, spraying the already beaten guardtowers with fire.

Luckily for Commander Kisto, the plan worked, as the enemy fire relented. Though weather they had been able to outright destroy the tanks or just force them into a more secured position was still debatable.

“Sir, the enemy is deploying battle droids.” One of the AT-TE pilots reported, having spotted the unmistakable wheel like chassis of undeployed Droidekas speeding towards them. The destroyers were closely followed by ranks upon ranks of the more common battle droids and the heavier super battle droids, walking in perfect synchronization, unrelenting and unfearing of the massive force arrayed against them.

“Troopers, engage the enemy!” Kisto ordered.

The clones who a second ago had been holding position behind the heavier walkers were now rushing past them, heading towards the enemy, firing their blasters all the while. The troopers who had been holding positions inside the AT-TEs also deployed, wanting part of the action.

Kisto himself soon followed, picking off droids with unmatched precision like there was no tomorrow.

The entire area erupted into violence as both droids and clones started blasting away, most of them were not really aiming, just firing in the general direction of the enemy, as they were bound to hit something, all the while the walkers continued their massive pounding.

Entire groups of the enemy droids were swept away by the vicious destructive potential of the walkers main canons. But even as a dozen droids fell, another dozen rushed to take their place. Their numbers seemed limitless.

The death toll on both sides was starting to steadily rise.

* * * *

Meanwhile, a few kilometers from the research base where Commander Kisto was currently conducting his assault, Jedi Knight Cartaine, Thalas, Morham and all the crewmen from the Enterprise had just located the entrance to the glacier caverns.

“I don’t suppose anybody’s had the time to check if the tunnels are safe?” Morham asked, looking a little skeptically at the sheer ice that comprised the walls, the ceiling and the floor of the tunnels.

“Not to worry, we should be alright, as long as nobody accidentally discharges their weapons inside.” Cartaine answered, giving the crewman who had unintentionally fired his blaster inside the hanger of the Acclamator a stern glance.

“So what are we supposed to do if we come across any hostiles, throw rocks at them?”

“I very much doubt the Separatists would have stationed troops inside the caverns.” Cartaine answered, flicking on the flashlight he had strapped to his chest, pointing it inside the dark tunnels to get a better look of it. “According to the informant, they don’t even know the tunnels exist. If they would, they would have collapsed them a long time ago.”

“Oh, well that makes me feel much better.” Morham commented sarcastically.

“Alright people, we’re proceeding in to the caverns now, flip on your flashlights and follow me, keep some distance between each other, as the ice can be very treacherous in there. Just try not to slip on it.” Cartaine said, taking the lead and heading inside.

The others filed in after him, one at a time, studying their surroundings cautiously, as if the walls themselves might come tumbling down on them at any moment.

The caverns had an almost organic look to them, with smooth edges and sleek lines. Almost like the insides of some giant beast. There was no telling how thick the ice itself was, as it seemed to go on forever when a light was shined on it. It did however create quite the nice optical effect when the multiple lights lighted up the tunnels, the ice reflecting the light and bending its spectrum into a multitude of colors and then throwing it back.

Geordi reached out and touched one of the walls, feeling its texture. It was very smooth, and dry, something he hadn’t expected. Usually caves like these were formed by water flowing to rapidly to freeze, but there was no water here, and the ice itself wasn’t wet, which indicated the tunnels had been like this for a very long time. Some major geological phenomenon had to have happened here for this to happen, he thought.

“How far do these tunnels stretch?” Picard asked, his voice reverberating of the walls and echoing through the caverns.

“It shouldn’t be too far, as long as we don’t get lost on the way.” Cartaine answered in a hushed voice.

The congregation continued on for a few minutes, using the scans they had made of the mountain, while in orbit, to plot out a path to their destination. The hike was largely uneventful, with only the occasional slip and fall breaking the silence.

“This should be it.” Cartaine finally said, having reached their intended wall.

He motioned for the clones carrying the explosives to come up to him.

“Are you sure?” Picard asked, looking at the sheer wall of ice in front of him. A couple of troopers rushed by him, setting down their backpacks near the wall and taking out what Picard guessed to be the explosives Cartaine had mentioned.

“Well, no. Not really, but there’s no way to be certain, and if the scans are correct then this should be it.”

The Clone Troopers fastened the devices to the wall and primed them, a few lights on them blinking to life as they did.

“I suggest we take cover, Sir.” One of the Troopers said as he finished, and moved back down the tunnel.

“You heard the man, take cover.” Cartaine said, making his way after the Trooper. He was shortly followed by Picard and the others who had been to close to the intended blast area.

“Well, here goes nothing, I guess.” Cartaine said, pressing down on the remote trigger to the explosives.

A deafening boom was heard as the two charges went off, and the entire cavern system shook from the effect, threatening to come down all around them.

As soon as the rumbling had ceased, and Morham knew it was safe to open his eyes again, he said “Just out of curiosity, how safe is it to actually detonate high-yield charges in a cavern made of ice like this.”

“Well, we’re still alive aren’t we? So I’d say it’s safe enough.” Cartaine replied in his usual happy-go-lucky manner.

“Right, remind me to never take part of plan you have put together again.” Morham muttered under his breath.

“Time to see if the charges did the trick.” The Jedi said, making his way towards the blast area, trying to wave the smoke and water vapor from his path. The rest of the group followed him in a slow pace.

The explosives had indeed been placed in the right place, as there was now a huge hole where they had just been, a hole leading to the outside.

“Captain, I think it would be best if you and your men stay back and let me and my clones secure the area before we proceed.” Cartaine said.

“As you wish.” Picard replied.

The Jedi and a few of his Clone troopers made their way to the very edge of the newly created exit, looking out on the landscape before them.

They were quite near the main base structure, with the guard towers, or what was left of them, a little further upwind from them. There were a few droids running from the main base up to the defensive positions at the towers, but apart from that, the area was completely unguarded, as the defensive turrets mounted on the base were mounted to high up actually target them. And from the sound coming from the battle up ahead, they weren’t even going to notice the group all that easily.

But care still had to be taken when disposing of the few remaining droids. There was no reason to get sloppy just because things were going according to plan for once.

“Everyone take up positions, pick your targets and wait for my signal. We all fire at the same time, taking out all the droids simultaneously.” Cartaine said.

The clone troopers in the passage with him shuffled around for a bit, getting into positions from where they could easily target the enemy.

“We’re set, Sir.” One of the troopers finally said, his rifle pointed at the nearest droid.

“Alright then, fire!” Cartaine exclaimed.

And as he did, the Clone troopers released a salvo of blaster fire towards the enemy. Nearly all of the bolts hit, with the ones that didn’t being closely followed by a string of secondary bolts that did hit. Seven droids were destroyed in less then a second, with no one left to report of the breach in their defenses.

Ok, so this chapter is a little shorter then usual. Mainly because i had first invisioned it and the next one to be one single part, but it became a little to large, so i decided to split it up instead. Besides, i think the pacing is better this way.

Oh, and you might notice Morham's scene as the one i posted in the trailer a while ago, if you read it.


Chapter 12: Order 66

The sound of dull explosions were heard, as yet another barrage of turbolaser fire impacted the shields of the Stalwart, sending tremors through the massive chassis of the ship.

Admiral Roth had to grab hold onto the console he had been looming over, just to avoid falling to the deck. Fitch, who was standing right beside him, didn’t seem to have any problems with holding himself balanced though.

Roth turned his attention back to the console once he regained his balance, swearing under his breath. The enemy had turned out to be a lot more cunning then they should have been.

A small and unimportant fleet, guarding a small research station like this, shouldn’t be led this well. Not after the failure the Separatists experienced at Coruscant in any case. The strategic thing to do would be to deploy their best tacticians in places where they were actually needed. And yet, here he was, being outmaneuvered and outwitted at every turn, by whoever was in control of the enemy fleet.

“Damn! This shouldn’t be happening!” Roth said through gritted teeth, as he saw yet another one of his ships being separated from its main group, and drawn out, where it would be vulnerable to an attack.

“Communications officer, order the Malan Dor back in formation!” He shouted.

“Aye, Sir.” Came a response.

Now the Admiral could refocus on the two Munificents that somehow had slipped through the cracks of his defenses, managing to take up position close enough to the Stalwart to fire at it directly.

It wasn’t that he was concerned with his own safety, he didn’t have that luxury. But he knew that if the Stalwart would be destroyed, the rest of the fleet would be scattered and without proper leadership, and that would be more then enough to rout them. The enemy commander had no doubt come to the same conclusion.

“Order both the Nerendi and the Hyal Kor to break their formations, I want them to direct all the fire they can at the two Separatist vessels currently engaging us.” The Admiral ordered.

“Sir, that would leave them vulnerable to counter attack, they might even be destroyed as a result.” One of the officers said, looking up from his station at the Admiral.

“I’m well aware of what it means, now if you don’t have anything better to do, I suggest you follow the orders I just gave you. I don’t have time to have my decisions questioned right now.”

“Yes, Sir. I understand, Sir.”

Moments later, both the Venator-class ships dubbed Nerendi and Hyal Kor were bombarding the enemy, right alongside the Stalwart, with everything they had. The combined firepower of the three destroyers quickly overpowered their weaker counterparts and soon the turbolaser bolts stopped being absorbed by the deflectors and started hitting the hull directly.

Huge pieces were ripped from their massive chassis’s; exposing what was underneath to the bare space outside. Compartments went through explosive decompression, some places even exploded violently as some of the larger power distributing lines was hit.

A wing of Republic starfighters saw their chance and veered off to perform an attack run on the two badly damaged ships. Now that their shields were down, the fighters were free to attack some of the more strategic subsystems of the ships with their proton torpedoes. The first targets to be on the receiving end of those high-yield torpedoes were the weapon emplacements themselves, blasting them into nothing but splinters.

The Munificents were now left nearly defenseless, as they had no shields left, and their offensive capabilities had been reduced to almost nothing. They were adrift in space, still alive, but barely so. Yet the brutal assault on them did not relent, and their massive hulls were still being ripped apart by the trio of Republic destroyers.

From the Republic’s viewpoint, leaving two capital ships intact so close to the flagship of their taskforce would be taking an unnecessary risk.

“One of the enemy ships is showing a huge power surge!” One of the sensors operators shouted out. “Its reactor is going critical!” He added once he had confirmed his initial readings.

“All hands, brace for impact!” Roth shouted into the intercom, relaying the message to everybody on the ship.

Seconds later, one of the Munificents disintegrated and erupted into a blast of super bright light. The ensuing shockwave and the debris, including the entire front section of the ship, were thrown at the ship, managing to rattle the Stalwart severely. Those that hadn’t had the time to grab on to something were thrown off their feet and some managed to injure themselves quite severely in the process.

But the fate of the Munificent’s companion was worse, as it was closer to its exploding companion then the Stalwart was. With its shields down and chassis torn from the beating it had taken a while ago from Republic forces, it was in no condition to handle a sudden shockwave of that magnitude from such a close distance. Its massive frame broke apart from the strain, destroying the ship completely. All that remained of it was seven pieces, that once had been one, drifting aimlessly through space, the innards burning and broken.

Admiral Roth managed to crack a smile at that point. His adversary was good, that much was evident, but even so, he couldn’t possible tackle the superior force that Roth had at his disposal.

The Admiral turned to his console, checking the general state of the battle. Five of the enemy Munificent-Class Frigates, along with one of the Recusant-class destroyers had been destroyed. But this was offset by the high number of ships Roth himself had lost, two Venator-class destroyers, as well as four Acclamators were no-more.

The fight was going his way though, and victory would have seemed all but assured, if it wasn’t for that accursed Battleship still lingering in the area. So far he had been able to outmaneuver the behemoth, but he knew the battle couldn’t be won before confronting the ship. He just hoped that he would still have enough of a force left when he finally did.

“Uh, Sir.” One of the crewmen down in the pits said.

Roth turned around to regard the man. “Yes? Speak up, crewman.”

“It’s… The sensors… They…” He stammered, keeping his gaze locked on the screen in front of him.

“Crewman, in a battle like this, time is of the essence, now tell me what’s on your mind and be brief about it!” Roth demanded. He had hoped that the crew would have gotten a little more professional since their last battle, but apparently there were still those who were a little wet behind the ears.

“Yes, of course. It’s the sensors; they are showing a large number of objects moving out from behind the shadow of the nearby moon.” He said.

“What? What kind of objects?” Roth asked, his voice as stern as stone.

“The sensors identify them as enemy capital ships, Sir.” The man reported, looking up from his console, fear clearly evident on his face. “Thirty-five of them, four of which are Trade Federation Battleships.”

“That’s impossible!” Roth blurted. “Our sensors should have detected them the second we arrived in system!”

“Well, I think it’s because of the moon. At first, I thought it was nothing but the moons natural atmosphere, but now, I think the strange effects it was having on our sensors might actually have been artificially created, to interfere with our sensors.”

“No, no, no. This can’t be.” Roth said in denial, grabbing his own console and going over the readings himself. “This… This would mean the Separatist knew we were coming, and that they have planned for it all along.”

“Navigational officer, are we still able to withdraw?” Roth asked, experiencing a severe case of deja-vu.

“No, Sir. The Separatists have us surrounded, if we jump to lightspeed now, we will be destroyed in the process.”

“Can we contact the troops on Serina VI?” He continued. “We need to warn them.”

But somehow he already knew the answer. The enemy had been thorough; they wouldn’t have made a simple mistake like that.

“No, the enemy jamming is too severe.” Came the predicted answer.

What was he to do? He couldn’t stand and fight, doing that would only assure his and his entire fleet’s destruction, they had no chance of winning this engagement. But neither could he retreat.

Was this really a check-mate move on the part of the Separatists, was there nothing left to do but die?

No! He didn’t believe in no-win scenarios, Roth reminded himself. There was a way to get out of this, there had to be, he just hadn’t thought of it yet.

“Communications officer, is short range communication still possible?” He asked.

“Yes, Sir.”

“Good, send out a message to the rest of the fleet, I want all the ships to form up as densely as possible. Once that is done, we push through the enemy blockade.” He ordered.

“Do you really think that’s going to work?” Fitch asked, his voice a little strained.

“I don’t know, but it’s the only thing I can think off at the moment.” The Admiral answered.

* * * *

Clone Commander Kisto ran up the hill of rubble, avoiding the hotter parts of the ferrocrete, and trying not to slip and fall in the process. He wanted to reach the top so he could survey the situation on the other side, himself.

The Separatists defensive positions at the two towers had been broken, with only the few scant droids remaining. The towers themselves had been reduced to nothing more then a heap of rubble and smoldering stone, unrecognizable as their former selves. The small wall had instilled a small calm in the battle, as both sides were currently trapped on either side, unable to get to the other.

All that remained now was to take the main structure.

Kisto finally reached the top of the mound, and gazed out over the inner compound. The main structure itself still sported a meager defense, with a score of droids still left and a couple of working defensive turrets in place.

The Commander found that out the hard way though, as a blaster bolts from one of the turrets impacted right beside him, blowing the area it had impacted apart, and sending a shockwave that threw Kisto tumbling right back down the slope he had just climbed.

One of the Clone Troopers hurried over to his side. ”Sir, are you alright?” He asked as he helped the Commander to his feet.

”I’m fine.” Kisto replied. He knew he was going to have multiple bruises from that little ride the next day, but luckily his armor had saved him from most of the blast and the shrapnel-like rocks spraying him afterwards.

”Have the Clone Troopers with the rocket launchers take out the defensive turrets, it’s too dangerous to proceed with the advance before they are taken out.” Kisto ordered, still trying to brush off some of the dirt from his armor.

”Aye, Sir!” The soldier acknowledged and ran towards a small gathering of his companions.

Soon afterwards, five clones, each carrying a massive rocket launcher on their shoulder, were scrambling to take up places in the rubble that was left of the two towers, trying to get into a position where they could fire off their payload without being spotted themselves. One direct hit from those defensive turrets and there would only be bits and pieces left of the troopers.

Not long after, the first rocket could be heard launching, flying with all haste towards its target. It hit dead-on, and the entire area, along with the turret and droid that was operating it, disappeared in a violent explosion.

The clone that had fired off the rocket had doomed himself in the process though, as the remaining two turrets now swiveled to target him. The soldier tried frantically to claw his way back down the rubble, but it was already too late. Three bolts of pure energetic destruction impacted in his nearby area, eviscerating the entire area.

One rather small piece of burnt armor landed on Kisto’s head with an unsignificant ‘plonk’, causing the Commander to frown a little. War was a dirty business.

The four remaining clones kept on crawling around, searching for a position from which to fire, their instinct to follow orders overriding their fear.

Soon, two more rockets could be seen tearing through the air, heading straight towards two more turrets. They were both direct hits, and so there remained only one working turret. It started firing at the general area from where the rockets had been fired, but this time the clones were faster, having long since crawled away from the area that was now being bombarded to pieces.

The last turret was doomed, and the droid operating it knew as much. But unlike the fallible flesh and blood that was the sentient species who had created it, he felt no fear, and so he stood his ground, waiting for the next target to percent itself. The fact that his own doom would almost certainly be assured when this happened was irrelevant.

There! Something shimmered from one of the cracks in the fallen rubble, the sun reflecting from a surface that wasn’t supposed to be there. The droid let loose a series of three bolts towards it. The first one did nothing more then blow apart the rubble in front of the concealed clone, but the two others impacted him, with the first bolt even hitting him straight in the head.

Clone Commander Kisto frowned once again, when the two legs that remained of the clone, came tumbling down the rubble, to land directly in front of his own feet. Why did all the severed clone pieces have to land on or near him?

A second later, another explosion was heard though, and this one was that of a rocket, not a blaster bolt. The last remaining defensive turret had now been destroyed and all that remained was to infiltrate the main compound and hook up with the others. With any luck, they had already gotten the Enterprise up and running.

The familiar chime from his comm disc stopped Commander Kisto just as he was about to order the advance to clear out the remaining droids though. He pulled it out and activated it.

The hologram of a man, shrouded and cloaked, appeared over the small apparatus. Had the transmission not come over the special channel meant only for the chancellor, the Clone Commander would have been hard pressed to recognize the man as Palpatine.

“Commander Kisto,” The figure said with a raspy voice. “The time has come, execute order sixty-six.”

“It will be done, my lord.” The Commander replied mechanically, his instinct to follow orders overriding his friendship with Cartaine, as well as any other moral qualms he might have had.

The hologram faded away, the connection terminated from its origin.

* * * *

“Looks like Kisto and his boys managed to blast their way through the droids.” Morham said, having spotted several of the Clone Troopers climbing over the rubble that had formed between the two defensive towers, blasting away the last few droids standing between them and the main structure.

“Was there ever any doubt?” Cartaine asked humorously. Indeed the Clone Commander had never failed at a task he had been given.

Both the Jedi and the Confederate marine were currently holding their position just outside the entrance of the research base. Guarding the rear as Captain Picard and the rest of his crew made their way towards the Enterprise, escorted by a few of the clone troopers. They had been ordered to stay out of sight for as long as possible though, they didn’t need to inform the droids of their infiltration any sooner then needed.

For the most part, the two had been left alone, with only the few scant droids noticing them and attacking. But a scant few droids were no match for a Jedi, and they had been dispatched before they could raise the alarm.

The icy field in front of them started filling up with clone troopers now, all heading towards them in a fast pace.

“They seem to be in an awful hurry to get here.” Morham commented.

“Indeed,” Cartaine replied. “I suppose Kisto’s just eager to link up with us, and complete the mission, he always was thorough and swift during his missions.”

But even as he said that, Cartaine sensed that something was wrong. He couldn’t quite put his finger on it, but the feeling was there. Like a splinter in his mind, nagging at him to do something. But what?

Morham moved out from his cover, wanting to show the clones that they had already managed to infiltrate the compound and that there was no hurry. But when the closest clone lifted his rifle and aimed it at him, he realized his mistake.

Cartaine realized it too, understanding the feeling he had had earlier. “Get down!” He screamed, but it was already too late.

To add to the confusion, a large group of droids suddenly emerged from the upper tier of the base, launching a vicious assault on the clones, who were now caught between the crumbled defensive towers and the base itself.

* * * *

This was not how it was supposed to end, was all that occupied Morham’s thoughts as he lay there, helpless on the icy floor of Serina VI.

He could still hear the battle raging on all around him, but it was more distant now, as if it didn’t really matter. Clone troopers and Separatist droids were firing at each other and he and Cartaine were caught in the middle, with both sides trying to kill them.

Why the clones had suddenly opened fire at them he couldn’t tell. He only knew that Cartaine had shouted for him to get down, and that he a fraction of a second later was lying on his back, unable to move. He must have been hit somewhere near the spine, as he could no longer feel his legs.

The marine focused all his strength, trying to force himself into a sitting position. The pain from the attempt drowned out all the noise around him, it was almost as if the rest of the world around him faded away.

Despite his best efforts all he managed to do was arch his back up a little by supporting his weight on his elbows. He could nevertheless see the truth of his wound now, and it was a lot worse then he had initially thought. A large part of his abdomen had been cleanly blown away, his armor apparently insufficient to block the incoming fire, and all that was left was a bloody mess of gore and intestines, the ice under him a dark red in color.

“I should have accepted that armor and the shield.” He tried to laugh, but all it sounded like was an inaudible croak.

He knew that the only thing keeping him lucid and conscious right now was the built in chemical delivery system in his suit, and that there was no way he could ever survive a wound this grievous.

He let himself fall back to the ground, the strength in his arms finally failing him. It was strange though, as he no longer felt any pain, he just felt numb.

But as he lay there, flat on his back and convulsing uncontrollably, something started gnawing at his mind.

The image of a small girl came to him. Who she was, he didn’t know. But he still found her very familiar in some strange way. As if the memory of who she was, was lingering on the edge of his memory, refusing to reveal itself in full.

Why was she looking at him like that? And what was it that made her eyes seem so odd to him?

The image became a little clearer, and now there was another person beside the little girl. This one also a female, although she was a bit older, perhaps in her early twenties. It was the same with her as with the little girl, he knew he should recognize and know her from somewhere, but for some reason his mind couldn’t recall.

A sudden burst of sorrow, regret and anguish shot through him, a sensation penetrating him to his very soul, a hurt stronger then any of the physical pain he had ever felt.

Why was he feeling this way? Knowing that he was about to die should make him angry, not this.

His feelings meshed with the images in his mind and a horrific realization hit him as the two sensations started a chain reaction in his mind, unlocking long forgotten secrets.

The image of the two girls became crystal clear. He could see everything now. He could remember everything now, and the memory was enough to completely overwhelm him.

The two girls were none other then his daughter and his wife. And the reason their eyes had seemed so odd to him earlier, was because they were lifeless.

They were dead.

The memory of him standing over their dead bodies burned in his mind, threatening to snap his sanity like the frail little twig it was at this point. The sheer horror that was splayed on their faces as they lay there in a pool of their own blood was too much for him to bear.

He felt as if his mind was unraveling, as if a large knot was being untied, and with every new revelation that came to him his mind screamed out in pain and denial.

The life he thought he had lived a moment ago, was a lie. Everything he thought he knew was a lie. He had never joined the Confederacy’s military willingly. The old memories were all false, put there somehow to block out the horrible truth.

His wife, his child and he himself had been living on Antiga Prime, as happy a family as they ever could be. But then the Confederacy had come, demanding control over their mining operations.

A peaceful demonstration had been organized in one of the larger cities on the planet and Morham and his family had been attending. That was when it had all happened.

The Confederates were only supposed to watch over the demonstration, making sure it didn’t become violent. But something had gone wrong. Someone opened fire, weather it was one of the demonstrators or one of the guards he didn’t know, but within seconds the situation had escalated into pure chaos. Gunfire rang out from all around him, and everywhere he looked people were dying by the dozens. Morham had turned around to cover his family, but it was too late. A stray burst from a rifle had already ripped them to pieces.

That memory of him standing over his dead family, looking down at their lifeless eyes, unable to help, would forever burn in his mind.

“No!” He tired to scream as he lay there on the cold wet ice. But all that came out was a wet gurgle as he started coughing up his own blood. A minute ago the prospect of dying hadn’t bother him so much. But now things were different, now he needed vengeance, both for his family and for himself. He needed to find his way back to the Confederacy and make them pay for what they had done.

But nature has a funny way of denying the soul its request of continued life when the body is too broken to go on. And so, Morham felt his mind fall into darkness.

The last thing he ever saw was the silhouette of a figure moving over him.

Updated Chapter 4.