Ragnarok-The End Times(CROSSOVER)
Posted: Mon Mar 25, 2013 7:02 pm
Well this here in part why I've been remiss on the Terror verse. The other is that I'm just lazy. But I digress, as Preao might recall something like this has been tickling in my brain for a while now. Ever since Khas's attempt at a massive cross over because I'm imitative and shamelessly steal from my betters. Now while I very much doubt I can do anything resembling a regular schedual, the lazy thing again, I felt like I had to put this out here so it would stop cluttering up my brain, which feels roomier already, and just see if this thing has any legs to it. At this point it really just a rough draft, stream of conciousness thing and I welcome any criticism you may have to offer. But enough of my moaning, on with the show...
“Fortune favors the bold as they say. The risks, as our rivals are quick to point out, are daunting but so are the rewards. Can you imagine it? To exceed the limitations of the Warp factor, to free freighters from the need of bulky warp coils or nacelles? To no longer need dedicated and specialized engineering crews for every ship? Galactic shipping could be done for a thousandth of the current cost.” Omni Consumer Product spokesman concerning their Transwarp project.
Prometheus Station-
Jewels. Glittering jewels, as bright as the finest diamond, the stars were on the black canvas that was space. Playfully beckoning beyond the reinforced caste of transparent aluminum with wonder and amazement. Well over a thousand cubic kiloparsecs of it out there, only the tiniest sliver of it explored, cataloged and quantified. The rest waiting to be unveiled, a teasingly inviting blank which called out to him. Whispered to him like a long, lost lover. One he desperately missed, one he would get back.
But all in good time he knew, still much to hold his interest at the proverbial arms length. Floating “moored” a few tens of thousands of miles the scabby, pitted hull of Daedalus orbited around the station. The vessels, an old and battered Denobulan freighter, was well and truly unexceptional except that its warpdrive, never capable of greater than the second warp factor, had been utterly stripped out. Along with its matter/anti-matter core and impulse drives leaving it, nearly, an empty hulk capable of only minute navigational corrections by thrusters.
Any greater aspirations in the care of the great oval of duranium and tritanium which shared the freighter’s orbit, a colossal ring fanged in fronds of protruding arrays and emitters. A cyclopean mouth, sculpted in stygian and wrapped in folds of gold, it yawned as if to devour Daedalus, Prometheus and perhaps even the entire galaxy to sate its hunger. Such was Pegasus, such that would pierce the heavens and carry him to back to Olympus.
“To succeed or become like Bellerophon it will be as it will be. But to make the attempt, to take destiny in one’s one hands, that is to live.” Garth of Izar whispered watching the freighter slowly curve towards the splayed lips of Pegasus.
Continuing to track their intricate dance playing out infinitesimally in the great void as he heard the lift door to his office suite part open and the light trampling of beings feet carpeted deck plate. Recognizing each from the snatch of conversation which wafted to him and their distinct like Saurian crystal voices.
Bombastic and hard as granite was Piral Degra, an Xindi-Primate engineer and scientist, whose voice could bore through a class three forcefield. Just a hair under standard height, through appeared more so with his stocky build, he’d been the first and brainchild of the project. First taking it to the Xindi Council and, when they rejected it, to the Federation and then Omni. Piral was, he would jokingly say, the last and true “Renaissance Man” grasping a passing interest and knowledge of a great many fields beyond his Primus. Including Earth history, having amassed a rather fanciful opinion and theorems about it, the most frequent being the importance of Shen Kuo in comparison to Lenardo da Vinci which put him in perpetual odds with the older, equally rough but more subdued voice Garth heard.
Gravelly but with a paternal patience was the equally passionate Flint, a gray haired elder and devote antiquarian. The real polymath of the group through he’d never use the term, chiding it as grossly simple and inaccurate, mastering fields as far apart as Xeno biology and Cochrane transdimensional physics. A real find by the company he’d been “plucked” from a backwater planet by a survey crew, a virtual hermit whom the Company had enticed to use his remarkable genius once for the better of the human condition the Transwarp project represented. Rumor was as well that the idiosyncratic Flint was equally interested in the Company’s old, discontinued and officially forbidden cybernetic research. An immortalized brain in an ageless, machined body or some such.
The third and last, a harmonious and soothing tone attempting to balance his gruffer peers, was Damien Faet. Managerial extraordinaire and assistant whose tackling of the mundane and twisted trail of paper work was the sole cause of Garth’s miraculous progress. The past six months seeing “Anomalous Gravimetric singularity and its application” grow from a musty theory on a computer file to the trillion credit sculpture which glided ever so gently through the dark expanse.
“All is well I trust?” Garth asked, at last turning to face them, offering them a restrained smile.” If only because I would be superfluous in any problem.”
Through the former Captain was not without his own intelligence or brand of genius he held little delusion that alongside the likes of Piral or Flint it was his organizational abilities, his command presence, by which he mattered. Wrangling the budget from the Company’s bean counters and herding down on his team of intellectuals and theorist to keep their plans feasible and practical.
“Oh everything is absolutely in the green, Kemocite intermix is above even my own predictions.” Piral boomed beelining towards Garth’s shifter of Saurian brandy and tray of glasses.” We just thought we should all just properly toast how we are about to remake the Galaxy.”
“ Nothing so drastic I’m afraid, the Galaxy is an enduring mistress that you’ll never change.” Came the ever so melancholic rebuttal of Flint.” But for the uncounted beings who reside in her their lives will be improved I grant you. Imagine it, starships with engines the size of walnuts, capable of traversing a hundred times faster than any contemporary…”
All of which, properly patented and licensed, would ensure Omni’s corporate domination well into the next century. Ensuring a healthy profit stream.
“More money than God.” Garth humorously thought of the old expression, one Flint had introduced to him, more than a little reserved at the implication.
To an extent cutting against his grain, being an explorer he pushed against the boundaries, either those charted on a map or of man’s knowledge, for the pleasure in and of itself rather than mere monetary reward. But it was more than money that the Company offered but a chance at rebirth, to prove the damage he’d suffered was no more. That he was cured, whole, the man he was.
An explorer, a blazer of trails, his first and best destiny. One he would return to.
Joining the three at his drink cabinet he allowed his smile to broaden as he helped himself to one of the crystalline glasses Piral filled with more agusto than skill. Raising it in toast to his colleagues, to the miracle workers who would make dreams come true.
“To how Cochrane must have felt crossing the warp threshold or Columbus as he peered out at the New World.” He offered.
“Or Gralaik of Xindi who first opened a subspace vortex.” Diplomatic Faet offered, smoothing any feathers before they could be ruffled.
After all their work was heavily inspired and based upon the old Vortex technology employed by Piral’s ancestors. A seemingly wondrous drive system every power in the Alpha quadrant had immediately drooled over. Regrettably repeated tests had revealed its partial dependency upon the altered universal constant brought about by the “Sphere Builders”, themselves an extremely classified race, and with the restoration of the “Expanse” its effectiveness had diminished to all but nothing.
Through Piral gave no sign of approval or notice of Faet’s peace branch or the potential snub. Merely looking pleased with himself and bellicously jubilant as he downed his glass and was reaching to refill it when the intercom chirped.
“Administrator Garth, are you ordering the champagne already?” The former captain acknowledged before the colorless and overtly stern voice of his security chief cut away the festive atmosphere like a phaser blast.
“This is O’Conner sir. We have a situation down on B deck, computer auxiliary.” He cautioned, voice as grave as a moldering sepulcher.
“ Is the situation serious? I was hoping to witness the Daedalus’s transference.” Garth sighed, well aware the slightest deviance of protocol would be grounds for the duranium hard officer.
A former MACO whom lost his original legs in an insertion gone wrong, the details including a transport scrambler some improper materialization in a wall and an Orion Syndicate leader who died very painfully, the starched pants soldier was on the case if a hair was so much as a millimeter out of place.
“We have an intruder sir and…it would be easier if you just came to see for yourself.” The trooper evaded with a curious quality which Garth could not immediately place.
Fear, if only a little.
*
Despite that malodorous harbinger the first thing Garth noticed as he and his party arrived was, while deeply incongruous, far from frightening. Indeed almost comical to see a Company engineer flanked by two armed troopers working on the door to a dingy blue rectangle unceremoniously stuffed into an unused corner of the auxiliary room. A banner fixed above the stubbornly unopening door labeling in dull letters it a “Police Box”. A reference Flint alone seemed to understand, briefly lapsing into an historical account before O’Conner interrupted with the intruder in tow with another three of the Security Force.
A large trench coated and scarfed, egregiously so, gentleman with bushy hair partially capped by a wide brim hat. And despite the armed escorts, the multitude of violations of breaching a secured Company station, and the presence of O’Conner who with his robotic legs could literally kick a Klingon’s head off his shoulders the intruder wore the largest and most sincere grin Garth had ever seen.
“Hello there, I see you’re the person of authority here.” The man greeted him socially without care or trouble.” I’d offer you a jelly baby but I’m afraid they’ve been confiscated. I think.”
Nodding his head back to one of the terminals which was overflowing with a pile of divergent and seemingly unrelated junk. Yo-yos, telescopes, books, a chime ringing wind up monkey and, among much else, a small white paper bag bulging with the gelatinous treats.
“I’ve given up trying to empty his pockets, it just kept going.” O’Conner shrugged.” None of it appears to be a weapon as near we can determine.”
“Certainly not. I never carry weapons. One can never quite know when they’ll be turned on you.” The man laughed, managing to make his smile even larger.” But enough about that. As I explained to your Mister O’Conner here it is imperative that I speak with someone of authority before it’s too late.”
“A request you granted chief?” Garth, fighting his own smile, asked turning a crooked glance to his Security Foreman.” It don’t see why my presence was required, you seem to have everything well in hand.”
“Well not to be impertinent sir but how in bloody hell did he get onboard?” The Chief demanded.” Koloth could roll up in a D-7 and couldn’t force his way aboard, at least not without a hell of a fight and yet and yet he came as easy as you please. And then there’s that thing.”
O’Conner pointing at the blue police box the engineer was still working on without result, holding a tricorder to it in one hand and a laser cutter in the other, which like the intruder himself had no purpose being on the station.
“It is not a “Police Box” and that’s all I can tell you. Sensors can’t penetrate it, I half drained a phaser straight into it and it didn’t even get warm. At this point I’m not sure a Constitution class starship could break into it.”
“You know it’s might rude confining a being without warrant and threatening to try and blow up his own personal property.” The man snapped in momentary annoyance.” I was after all only trying to help.”
“Help, bah. We caught him rerouting control to this room. He’d already bypassed all of our security lock outs when my team and I beamed in. Another few seconds and…he could have done anything.” O’Conner bristled.
“Impossible.” Faet, normally placid demeanor lost, exclaimed brushing past to inspect the interface.” It’s encrypted with a Zeta level. It would take a super computer years to even hope to cracking the sequence.”
“Not to sound the braggart but your frame of reference is limited, there are beings who carry the equivalent of “super computers” in the tiniest fragment of their being.” The man countered humorously.” But that’s another matter. Have you checked those calculations floating around in the memory banks? They are completely and utterly bunk, hogwash. If you activate the array I…I shudder to think…”
“And you happen to an expert in transdimensional physics?” The gravelly voice of Flint asked, the scientist peering at the intruder probingly.” And are able to interpret it in a matter of moments at most?”
“One of my lesser accomplishments I promise you.” The man reassured doing nothing for his credibility.
Having heard enough Garth signaled for O’Conner to take him away before he could go on any further with his dog and pony show, what the madman hoped to accomplish he couldn’t fathom but he wasn’t going to interrupt the historic flight.
“Take him to the detention center, we’ll settle this out later. Hopefully we won’t have to press charges.” Garth ordered turning an eye towards the police box.” And take that to the cargo hold D, we’ll settle what to do with it, if anything, later as well.”
Which would be that. The intruder could rot in the cell until the Federation authorities showed up for him and if they hurried Garth and the others could still catch the Daedalus’s departure. Instead, resisting the coaxing push of his chaperons, the man screamed out.
“Okay, Okay I admit it. I’m an industrial spy, menacing alien saboteur or whatever else you dread of me. “ He exclaimed fighting to remain where he was.” I’ll tell you everything, my whole diabolical plan. If you’ll just go easy one me.”
“That depends entirely on what you tell us.” O’Conner answered ordering with a look for his men to cease.” Now talk. And it better be good.”
“Oh it is, it is. You chaps over there should pay attention to.” The intruder called out to the engineer and guards.” It’s really quite clever.”
“Talk or a detention cell will be the least of your worries.” Garth cautioned.” Federation penal colonies may not be Rura Penthe but they can be most unpleasant for the uninitiated.”
“ I have no doubt through I’m afraid this is all a bit of a diversion while my loyal canine companion sneaks up on you. A sonic neural disrupter, wide dispersal, should be adequate.” The man answered like a school teacher correcting a child.
“Right away master.” A hideously electronic voice answered, coming from a silver robotic dog which rolled out of the now open police box, right before each and everyone but the intruder fell clutching at their burning temples.
Their balled fists useless to halt the burning hot spikes they felt burrowing through their brain, meeting at the center in a fiery union the likes of which not even O’Conner had experienced. Each mentally withdrawing from it, curling up inside of themselves as the silver dog wheeled himself through their fields of bodies towards its master.
“Very good K-9. That should keep them subdued for a minute or two.” He spoke outloud returning to the station and pulling Faet from off it, draping the manager to the ground, and took his place at the controls.” More than long enough to implode that monstrosity.”
Instead of the expected digital acquiescence he’d come to expect from his faithful friend, K-9 instead shouted a shrill warning which ended mid note. His circuits fizzing loudly as the Doctor turned in his seat to see Garth, phaser in hand, advancing towards him.
“Cellular regenerative metamorphosis.” The one time captain answered seeing the Doctor’s, surprisingly rare, expression of confusion.” Now step away.”
“Now see here, we are talking about the fate of galaxies, of entire universes. We don’t have-“ The Doctor started before taking a full phaser blast, set to stun, squarely knocking him back out of the seat.
Watching him fall Garth, keeping the phaser on him, knelt and retracted a belt communicator from O’Conner, who like the others were starting to stir and move, and held it up to his lips.
“Administrator Garth to Control. How are we proceeding? Everything in the green?” He queried hoping his voice didn’t show his concern.
“We’re all good here. Pegasus is lighting up, power distribution is within tolerance and the spatial-grav disturbance is forming within its center. Should reach expected parameters in T-minus fifty coinciding with the impact of the Daedalus.” The Controller on the other end answered giddily, no doubt celebrations had already begun.” Why sir? Is anything wrong?”
“No, just last minute jitters. Carry on, and have a drink on me will you?” He answered clicking off the communicator and hitching it onto his belt.
Across from him he saw the intruder groan and shift from his crumpled position, revealing extraordinary stamina on his part, while around him first Flint, the O’Conner and then Faet rose drunkenly to their feet.
“The transference?” Faet, the first to speak, squawked.
“Proceeding. Despite his efforts.” Garth answered gesturing to the Doctor who snapped open his eyes and shook his head clearing away the cobwebs.
“No! You can’t. You brilliant dunce you don’t understand!” He cried trying to stand.” We have to stop it!”
“Too late.” Garth boasted just as the alarm klaxon sounded.
Reaching for his communicator again as the now panicked voice of the Controller blared from the room’s speakers, from every room and deck on Prometheus.
“Daedalus has been destroyed, gravimetric shear. Dampeners ineffective…all personnel prepare to evacuate! I repeat prepare to evacuate!”
“Control! This is Garth, what in blazes is going on up there? We were in the green!” the Administrator cursed, howling at the fates, as his dream sundered and died.
“The vortex…its exceeding its power curve. Lord, it’s off our charts…and that’s only what we can read through the distortions.” The Controller gasped.” Its twisting space into knots out there and this station’s next…”
“Understood. Get out of there.” Garth ordered, knowing if there was a way to shut it down they’d have done it already.
And from his swaying stance the Doctor laughed as he stumbled back to the terminal.
“There is no place to escape, you have to understand. That thing out there is pandora’s box and you’ve taken a jackhammer to it.” He hurriedly explained, reaching for the controls, as Faet, suddenly, leapt at him with a feral cry.
Stopped only by Garth, first with a nose crunching back handed sweep of his phaser than twisting the fighting hell cat of an assistant’s arms behind his back. The calm and even keeled manager’s face twisted in a horrible grimace, his eyes bulging from his sockets as his mouths snarled in a frothing leer.
“No! It is the goddess’s work, she of living flame and torment. You can’t stop it!” He hissed nearly breaking his back trying to escape Garth’s hold.” She the devourer of flesh, her sacrifice shall not be undone…”
“You’re quite right, I can’t stop it now.” The Doctor conceded to the once placid man.” The best I can do is reharmonize your shield emitters, I might be able to untangle us from the spatial fabric…just might survive then.”
“What about the others? The escaping shuttles?” Flint asked poignantly.
“I’m afraid their already dead.” The Doctor answered as the universe tore.
Ripped asunder and through it flowed the seething cauldron of endless possibility, the whole of creation which vomited out in one confusing, terrifying whole. Entire worlds screaming in unison for one blinding moment then falling silent, their bodies twisted and mutated to possibilities which never should be. Others, farther out from the churning tendrils rooting their way across, merely went mad and for still others the inexplicable second of pain and confusion was merely the herald of greater horrors. Unnoticed but for the cosmic eye was the subtle alterations to the heavens rippling across the ruptures’ wake. Planets once barren turning verdant or healthy G class stars turning to dead husks. Entire civilizations shimmering in and out of being as possibilities coalesced.
And watching it all something cackled, a rich deep velvet of a voice coated in untold millennia of spilled blood.
“It begins.” She, the Emerald goddess, whispered.
“Fortune favors the bold as they say. The risks, as our rivals are quick to point out, are daunting but so are the rewards. Can you imagine it? To exceed the limitations of the Warp factor, to free freighters from the need of bulky warp coils or nacelles? To no longer need dedicated and specialized engineering crews for every ship? Galactic shipping could be done for a thousandth of the current cost.” Omni Consumer Product spokesman concerning their Transwarp project.
Prometheus Station-
Jewels. Glittering jewels, as bright as the finest diamond, the stars were on the black canvas that was space. Playfully beckoning beyond the reinforced caste of transparent aluminum with wonder and amazement. Well over a thousand cubic kiloparsecs of it out there, only the tiniest sliver of it explored, cataloged and quantified. The rest waiting to be unveiled, a teasingly inviting blank which called out to him. Whispered to him like a long, lost lover. One he desperately missed, one he would get back.
But all in good time he knew, still much to hold his interest at the proverbial arms length. Floating “moored” a few tens of thousands of miles the scabby, pitted hull of Daedalus orbited around the station. The vessels, an old and battered Denobulan freighter, was well and truly unexceptional except that its warpdrive, never capable of greater than the second warp factor, had been utterly stripped out. Along with its matter/anti-matter core and impulse drives leaving it, nearly, an empty hulk capable of only minute navigational corrections by thrusters.
Any greater aspirations in the care of the great oval of duranium and tritanium which shared the freighter’s orbit, a colossal ring fanged in fronds of protruding arrays and emitters. A cyclopean mouth, sculpted in stygian and wrapped in folds of gold, it yawned as if to devour Daedalus, Prometheus and perhaps even the entire galaxy to sate its hunger. Such was Pegasus, such that would pierce the heavens and carry him to back to Olympus.
“To succeed or become like Bellerophon it will be as it will be. But to make the attempt, to take destiny in one’s one hands, that is to live.” Garth of Izar whispered watching the freighter slowly curve towards the splayed lips of Pegasus.
Continuing to track their intricate dance playing out infinitesimally in the great void as he heard the lift door to his office suite part open and the light trampling of beings feet carpeted deck plate. Recognizing each from the snatch of conversation which wafted to him and their distinct like Saurian crystal voices.
Bombastic and hard as granite was Piral Degra, an Xindi-Primate engineer and scientist, whose voice could bore through a class three forcefield. Just a hair under standard height, through appeared more so with his stocky build, he’d been the first and brainchild of the project. First taking it to the Xindi Council and, when they rejected it, to the Federation and then Omni. Piral was, he would jokingly say, the last and true “Renaissance Man” grasping a passing interest and knowledge of a great many fields beyond his Primus. Including Earth history, having amassed a rather fanciful opinion and theorems about it, the most frequent being the importance of Shen Kuo in comparison to Lenardo da Vinci which put him in perpetual odds with the older, equally rough but more subdued voice Garth heard.
Gravelly but with a paternal patience was the equally passionate Flint, a gray haired elder and devote antiquarian. The real polymath of the group through he’d never use the term, chiding it as grossly simple and inaccurate, mastering fields as far apart as Xeno biology and Cochrane transdimensional physics. A real find by the company he’d been “plucked” from a backwater planet by a survey crew, a virtual hermit whom the Company had enticed to use his remarkable genius once for the better of the human condition the Transwarp project represented. Rumor was as well that the idiosyncratic Flint was equally interested in the Company’s old, discontinued and officially forbidden cybernetic research. An immortalized brain in an ageless, machined body or some such.
The third and last, a harmonious and soothing tone attempting to balance his gruffer peers, was Damien Faet. Managerial extraordinaire and assistant whose tackling of the mundane and twisted trail of paper work was the sole cause of Garth’s miraculous progress. The past six months seeing “Anomalous Gravimetric singularity and its application” grow from a musty theory on a computer file to the trillion credit sculpture which glided ever so gently through the dark expanse.
“All is well I trust?” Garth asked, at last turning to face them, offering them a restrained smile.” If only because I would be superfluous in any problem.”
Through the former Captain was not without his own intelligence or brand of genius he held little delusion that alongside the likes of Piral or Flint it was his organizational abilities, his command presence, by which he mattered. Wrangling the budget from the Company’s bean counters and herding down on his team of intellectuals and theorist to keep their plans feasible and practical.
“Oh everything is absolutely in the green, Kemocite intermix is above even my own predictions.” Piral boomed beelining towards Garth’s shifter of Saurian brandy and tray of glasses.” We just thought we should all just properly toast how we are about to remake the Galaxy.”
“ Nothing so drastic I’m afraid, the Galaxy is an enduring mistress that you’ll never change.” Came the ever so melancholic rebuttal of Flint.” But for the uncounted beings who reside in her their lives will be improved I grant you. Imagine it, starships with engines the size of walnuts, capable of traversing a hundred times faster than any contemporary…”
All of which, properly patented and licensed, would ensure Omni’s corporate domination well into the next century. Ensuring a healthy profit stream.
“More money than God.” Garth humorously thought of the old expression, one Flint had introduced to him, more than a little reserved at the implication.
To an extent cutting against his grain, being an explorer he pushed against the boundaries, either those charted on a map or of man’s knowledge, for the pleasure in and of itself rather than mere monetary reward. But it was more than money that the Company offered but a chance at rebirth, to prove the damage he’d suffered was no more. That he was cured, whole, the man he was.
An explorer, a blazer of trails, his first and best destiny. One he would return to.
Joining the three at his drink cabinet he allowed his smile to broaden as he helped himself to one of the crystalline glasses Piral filled with more agusto than skill. Raising it in toast to his colleagues, to the miracle workers who would make dreams come true.
“To how Cochrane must have felt crossing the warp threshold or Columbus as he peered out at the New World.” He offered.
“Or Gralaik of Xindi who first opened a subspace vortex.” Diplomatic Faet offered, smoothing any feathers before they could be ruffled.
After all their work was heavily inspired and based upon the old Vortex technology employed by Piral’s ancestors. A seemingly wondrous drive system every power in the Alpha quadrant had immediately drooled over. Regrettably repeated tests had revealed its partial dependency upon the altered universal constant brought about by the “Sphere Builders”, themselves an extremely classified race, and with the restoration of the “Expanse” its effectiveness had diminished to all but nothing.
Through Piral gave no sign of approval or notice of Faet’s peace branch or the potential snub. Merely looking pleased with himself and bellicously jubilant as he downed his glass and was reaching to refill it when the intercom chirped.
“Administrator Garth, are you ordering the champagne already?” The former captain acknowledged before the colorless and overtly stern voice of his security chief cut away the festive atmosphere like a phaser blast.
“This is O’Conner sir. We have a situation down on B deck, computer auxiliary.” He cautioned, voice as grave as a moldering sepulcher.
“ Is the situation serious? I was hoping to witness the Daedalus’s transference.” Garth sighed, well aware the slightest deviance of protocol would be grounds for the duranium hard officer.
A former MACO whom lost his original legs in an insertion gone wrong, the details including a transport scrambler some improper materialization in a wall and an Orion Syndicate leader who died very painfully, the starched pants soldier was on the case if a hair was so much as a millimeter out of place.
“We have an intruder sir and…it would be easier if you just came to see for yourself.” The trooper evaded with a curious quality which Garth could not immediately place.
Fear, if only a little.
*
Despite that malodorous harbinger the first thing Garth noticed as he and his party arrived was, while deeply incongruous, far from frightening. Indeed almost comical to see a Company engineer flanked by two armed troopers working on the door to a dingy blue rectangle unceremoniously stuffed into an unused corner of the auxiliary room. A banner fixed above the stubbornly unopening door labeling in dull letters it a “Police Box”. A reference Flint alone seemed to understand, briefly lapsing into an historical account before O’Conner interrupted with the intruder in tow with another three of the Security Force.
A large trench coated and scarfed, egregiously so, gentleman with bushy hair partially capped by a wide brim hat. And despite the armed escorts, the multitude of violations of breaching a secured Company station, and the presence of O’Conner who with his robotic legs could literally kick a Klingon’s head off his shoulders the intruder wore the largest and most sincere grin Garth had ever seen.
“Hello there, I see you’re the person of authority here.” The man greeted him socially without care or trouble.” I’d offer you a jelly baby but I’m afraid they’ve been confiscated. I think.”
Nodding his head back to one of the terminals which was overflowing with a pile of divergent and seemingly unrelated junk. Yo-yos, telescopes, books, a chime ringing wind up monkey and, among much else, a small white paper bag bulging with the gelatinous treats.
“I’ve given up trying to empty his pockets, it just kept going.” O’Conner shrugged.” None of it appears to be a weapon as near we can determine.”
“Certainly not. I never carry weapons. One can never quite know when they’ll be turned on you.” The man laughed, managing to make his smile even larger.” But enough about that. As I explained to your Mister O’Conner here it is imperative that I speak with someone of authority before it’s too late.”
“A request you granted chief?” Garth, fighting his own smile, asked turning a crooked glance to his Security Foreman.” It don’t see why my presence was required, you seem to have everything well in hand.”
“Well not to be impertinent sir but how in bloody hell did he get onboard?” The Chief demanded.” Koloth could roll up in a D-7 and couldn’t force his way aboard, at least not without a hell of a fight and yet and yet he came as easy as you please. And then there’s that thing.”
O’Conner pointing at the blue police box the engineer was still working on without result, holding a tricorder to it in one hand and a laser cutter in the other, which like the intruder himself had no purpose being on the station.
“It is not a “Police Box” and that’s all I can tell you. Sensors can’t penetrate it, I half drained a phaser straight into it and it didn’t even get warm. At this point I’m not sure a Constitution class starship could break into it.”
“You know it’s might rude confining a being without warrant and threatening to try and blow up his own personal property.” The man snapped in momentary annoyance.” I was after all only trying to help.”
“Help, bah. We caught him rerouting control to this room. He’d already bypassed all of our security lock outs when my team and I beamed in. Another few seconds and…he could have done anything.” O’Conner bristled.
“Impossible.” Faet, normally placid demeanor lost, exclaimed brushing past to inspect the interface.” It’s encrypted with a Zeta level. It would take a super computer years to even hope to cracking the sequence.”
“Not to sound the braggart but your frame of reference is limited, there are beings who carry the equivalent of “super computers” in the tiniest fragment of their being.” The man countered humorously.” But that’s another matter. Have you checked those calculations floating around in the memory banks? They are completely and utterly bunk, hogwash. If you activate the array I…I shudder to think…”
“And you happen to an expert in transdimensional physics?” The gravelly voice of Flint asked, the scientist peering at the intruder probingly.” And are able to interpret it in a matter of moments at most?”
“One of my lesser accomplishments I promise you.” The man reassured doing nothing for his credibility.
Having heard enough Garth signaled for O’Conner to take him away before he could go on any further with his dog and pony show, what the madman hoped to accomplish he couldn’t fathom but he wasn’t going to interrupt the historic flight.
“Take him to the detention center, we’ll settle this out later. Hopefully we won’t have to press charges.” Garth ordered turning an eye towards the police box.” And take that to the cargo hold D, we’ll settle what to do with it, if anything, later as well.”
Which would be that. The intruder could rot in the cell until the Federation authorities showed up for him and if they hurried Garth and the others could still catch the Daedalus’s departure. Instead, resisting the coaxing push of his chaperons, the man screamed out.
“Okay, Okay I admit it. I’m an industrial spy, menacing alien saboteur or whatever else you dread of me. “ He exclaimed fighting to remain where he was.” I’ll tell you everything, my whole diabolical plan. If you’ll just go easy one me.”
“That depends entirely on what you tell us.” O’Conner answered ordering with a look for his men to cease.” Now talk. And it better be good.”
“Oh it is, it is. You chaps over there should pay attention to.” The intruder called out to the engineer and guards.” It’s really quite clever.”
“Talk or a detention cell will be the least of your worries.” Garth cautioned.” Federation penal colonies may not be Rura Penthe but they can be most unpleasant for the uninitiated.”
“ I have no doubt through I’m afraid this is all a bit of a diversion while my loyal canine companion sneaks up on you. A sonic neural disrupter, wide dispersal, should be adequate.” The man answered like a school teacher correcting a child.
“Right away master.” A hideously electronic voice answered, coming from a silver robotic dog which rolled out of the now open police box, right before each and everyone but the intruder fell clutching at their burning temples.
Their balled fists useless to halt the burning hot spikes they felt burrowing through their brain, meeting at the center in a fiery union the likes of which not even O’Conner had experienced. Each mentally withdrawing from it, curling up inside of themselves as the silver dog wheeled himself through their fields of bodies towards its master.
“Very good K-9. That should keep them subdued for a minute or two.” He spoke outloud returning to the station and pulling Faet from off it, draping the manager to the ground, and took his place at the controls.” More than long enough to implode that monstrosity.”
Instead of the expected digital acquiescence he’d come to expect from his faithful friend, K-9 instead shouted a shrill warning which ended mid note. His circuits fizzing loudly as the Doctor turned in his seat to see Garth, phaser in hand, advancing towards him.
“Cellular regenerative metamorphosis.” The one time captain answered seeing the Doctor’s, surprisingly rare, expression of confusion.” Now step away.”
“Now see here, we are talking about the fate of galaxies, of entire universes. We don’t have-“ The Doctor started before taking a full phaser blast, set to stun, squarely knocking him back out of the seat.
Watching him fall Garth, keeping the phaser on him, knelt and retracted a belt communicator from O’Conner, who like the others were starting to stir and move, and held it up to his lips.
“Administrator Garth to Control. How are we proceeding? Everything in the green?” He queried hoping his voice didn’t show his concern.
“We’re all good here. Pegasus is lighting up, power distribution is within tolerance and the spatial-grav disturbance is forming within its center. Should reach expected parameters in T-minus fifty coinciding with the impact of the Daedalus.” The Controller on the other end answered giddily, no doubt celebrations had already begun.” Why sir? Is anything wrong?”
“No, just last minute jitters. Carry on, and have a drink on me will you?” He answered clicking off the communicator and hitching it onto his belt.
Across from him he saw the intruder groan and shift from his crumpled position, revealing extraordinary stamina on his part, while around him first Flint, the O’Conner and then Faet rose drunkenly to their feet.
“The transference?” Faet, the first to speak, squawked.
“Proceeding. Despite his efforts.” Garth answered gesturing to the Doctor who snapped open his eyes and shook his head clearing away the cobwebs.
“No! You can’t. You brilliant dunce you don’t understand!” He cried trying to stand.” We have to stop it!”
“Too late.” Garth boasted just as the alarm klaxon sounded.
Reaching for his communicator again as the now panicked voice of the Controller blared from the room’s speakers, from every room and deck on Prometheus.
“Daedalus has been destroyed, gravimetric shear. Dampeners ineffective…all personnel prepare to evacuate! I repeat prepare to evacuate!”
“Control! This is Garth, what in blazes is going on up there? We were in the green!” the Administrator cursed, howling at the fates, as his dream sundered and died.
“The vortex…its exceeding its power curve. Lord, it’s off our charts…and that’s only what we can read through the distortions.” The Controller gasped.” Its twisting space into knots out there and this station’s next…”
“Understood. Get out of there.” Garth ordered, knowing if there was a way to shut it down they’d have done it already.
And from his swaying stance the Doctor laughed as he stumbled back to the terminal.
“There is no place to escape, you have to understand. That thing out there is pandora’s box and you’ve taken a jackhammer to it.” He hurriedly explained, reaching for the controls, as Faet, suddenly, leapt at him with a feral cry.
Stopped only by Garth, first with a nose crunching back handed sweep of his phaser than twisting the fighting hell cat of an assistant’s arms behind his back. The calm and even keeled manager’s face twisted in a horrible grimace, his eyes bulging from his sockets as his mouths snarled in a frothing leer.
“No! It is the goddess’s work, she of living flame and torment. You can’t stop it!” He hissed nearly breaking his back trying to escape Garth’s hold.” She the devourer of flesh, her sacrifice shall not be undone…”
“You’re quite right, I can’t stop it now.” The Doctor conceded to the once placid man.” The best I can do is reharmonize your shield emitters, I might be able to untangle us from the spatial fabric…just might survive then.”
“What about the others? The escaping shuttles?” Flint asked poignantly.
“I’m afraid their already dead.” The Doctor answered as the universe tore.
Ripped asunder and through it flowed the seething cauldron of endless possibility, the whole of creation which vomited out in one confusing, terrifying whole. Entire worlds screaming in unison for one blinding moment then falling silent, their bodies twisted and mutated to possibilities which never should be. Others, farther out from the churning tendrils rooting their way across, merely went mad and for still others the inexplicable second of pain and confusion was merely the herald of greater horrors. Unnoticed but for the cosmic eye was the subtle alterations to the heavens rippling across the ruptures’ wake. Planets once barren turning verdant or healthy G class stars turning to dead husks. Entire civilizations shimmering in and out of being as possibilities coalesced.
And watching it all something cackled, a rich deep velvet of a voice coated in untold millennia of spilled blood.
“It begins.” She, the Emerald goddess, whispered.