Exodus: the Trek/ Wars crossover of the century

[Link, the Hero of Time]

PART I - EXODUS

STAR FLEET OFFICIAL COMMUNIQU�
PROTOCOL JE6
SECURITY CLEARANCE: GAMMA 6

FROM: STARFLEET COMMAND, ADMIRAL HANSON
TO: ALL SHIPS AND PERSONNEL

--BEGIN MESSAGE--

ENTERPRISE (NCC-1701-E) DESTROYED WITH LOSS OF ALL HANDS ON TRAINING MISSION TO SIGMA FOXTROT SECTOR. ONLY SURVIVOR: PICARD, ADMIRAL J.L.

ADMIRAL PICARD ORDERED TO RETURN TO EARTH FOR FORMAL COURT-MARTIAL CHARGES.

FOR THE CREW OF THE ENTERPRISE, A MINUTE'S SILENCE WILL BE OBSERVED AT THE NEXT MEETING OF THE FEDERATION COUNCIL. MAY GOD HAVE MERCY ON THEIR SOULS.

--END MESSAGE--

Picard still could not believe it had happened. The Enterprise had been following a pre-ordained path through the Sigma Foxtrot Sector. Captain Riker was on duty. Picard had been bored, and had chosen to go to inspect the shuttle bay. He had sat for a moment in the Galilleo - the craft which had brought him aboard the Enterprise when he had first taken command. The moment he sat down in the pilot's chair, all hell had broken loose. A titanic shock had shaken the Enterprise. As decompression alarms bellowed and the very fabric of the ship groaned, the shuttle automatically sealed. One last, enigmatic transmission from Captain Riker at the Conn - "My God! Look at the size of that thing!" With a roar, the shuttle-bay doors were flung open, and his shuttle was torn from it's mountings and thrown into the black void of space. When the Sarasota discovered his shuttle drifting, no power to engines, and only minimal power to life support, Picard was relieved, yet apprehensive. After relaying his story to Admiral Nechyaev, Picard began to get the feeling that his career might be over. Now, sitting in the brig, he knew with cold certainty that it was over.

"Oh, not yet, Picard. That would make my life terribly boring, and we wouldn't want that, would we?" Picard glowered at the voice, but calmed himself. Anger never did any good.

"Q," he acknowledged in a tight voice. "So formal, Mon Captain? I just thought you'd like to know where your friends are..." Q materialized with his usual flash of light. It took all of Picard's self control not to grab the little runt by the neck and squeeze.

"Amongst Humans, we have a thing called tact" He growled.

"Oh! You thought I was intruding on your grief. Well, you're right. It's wasted, after all." As the last of Picard's tattered pride gave way and he prepared to lunge, Q continued hastily,

"Since they're still alive and in very good health." Picard caught himself, sensing a strand of hope, no matter how fine a strand it might be. Q, sensing a reprieve, continued, "Oh, yes, Mon Captain. The erstwhile and annoying Captain Riker, The dreadful first officer Mr. Crusher, The overly aggressive security chief with the Klingon ancestry, the engineering expert without the eyes and the whole gamut of muddle-headed trainees and their exasperated counselor, that Betazoid woman, what was her name again?" He snapped his fingers, a few times, giving the impression that he was trying to remember a name. "Oh, and a certain Chief Medical Officer, tipped to be the hottest bet for captaincy of the Pasteur when it gets out of its over-run production line. I believe you where quite fond of her."

[Seven of Nine]

cool!

[Voy_Girl]

It'
s good!

[Thomas]

Like it.

[admiral]

yeah it is nice

[Matrix881]

it's awesome, keep it up

[Link, the Hero of Time]

"Your point?" Picard said coolly, refusing to rise to Q's baiting.

"They went through a singularity left over from one of my earlier experiments. Quite violent, but the ship was intact when it emerged on the other side."

"Which is where?"

"Oh, a long time ago, Picard, in a galaxy far, far away." Q smiled obsequiously.

"So what do I do about it?" Picard felt desperation bite: out of the entire Galaxy? How would he ever get to them?

"You'll need to contact an old friend and find some contacts. You'll need a mercenary team of about four people. Then meet me at these co-ordinates and get ready for the ride of your life."

He tossed Picard a piece of vellum, folded neatly into four. Picard opened it. "This is blank, Q."

"Oh, silly me." A quill pen appeared and scratched out a series of digits.

"Just who is the old friend you recommend I look up?" Picard asked while the pen wrote on the vellum.

"Well, actually, there are two. Right now, in fact, they are not too far from here." Q paused, sensing Picard's nagging question. 'Might as well stop beating around the bush,' Q thought, and then continued, "One is fond of digging, and the other one just seems to like blowing things up, apart or away."

"Vash and Tallera." Picard guessed.

"Bravo. Get to it, Mon Captain." Q gave Picard just long enough to see his mocking grin before he blinked out. Picard sank into deep contemplation. This was going to be difficult.

[Voy_Girl]

Interesting..

[Thomas]

Yeah...

[Link, the Hero of Time]

Riker surveyed the damage report. "How many of those things are out there?" Worf responded in a cool voice. "Sensors report at least twenty five small ships. They're so small they're avoiding our phaser blasts."

"Type?"

"Unknown. Scanners suggest a one-man craft with a pair of Ion Engines and large solar panels to charge their main cannon."

"Shields, Mr. Worf?" Alexander Worf looked more like his father every day, Riker thought.

"Holding, captain. The blasts are not phasers, though. They appear to be actual laser beams, although I can't see how a ship that size could put out a beam with the power figures I read."

"Mr. Crusher, I want a Lorenz somersault with a wide spread of photon torpedoes."

"Aye sir."

The great ship rolled its nose upwards, up and over, sweeping in a tight circle as the torpedo tubes flared time and time again. "Report."

"Fifteen of the small fighter craft are damaged or destroyed. The ten remaining are regrouping." The science officers voice jumped an octave. "Sir! I read a large vessel incoming..." He never finished his sentence. Out of nowhere, blurring from a faded outline to a solid ship, came a vessel that dwarfed the Enterprise. The huge ship had none of the clean lines of a federation ship, none of the aesthetic curves or white, sharp beauty. This ship was a ship of war. "Rebel Alliance Nebulon B Frigate Excelsior hailing unidentified craft. Identify yourself."
From behind the tiny aggressors, a wing of needle like ships swung in, incredibly fast, and in a few seconds, it was all over. Three fighters - their wings split in an X-shape roared close to the Enterprise.

"Attention Excelsior, this is the Federation Starship Enterprise, Captain William T. Riker commanding. We're peaceful."

The reply was back within moments. "Acknowledged Enterprise, we're sending a fighter escort."

The three fighters circled around and were joined in a minute by three more, which assumed a spherical formation around the Enterprise. A new voice came over the comm system.

"Attention Enterprise, this is Wedge Antilles, Rouge Squadron. Are you hyperdrive capable?"

"We have a warp drive capability." Riker hedged.

"Never heard of it," came the reply from Wedge.

"It's a long story," Riker said, "but, can you guys give us coordinates for our destination? We will meet you there."

"No can do, Enterprise. We're under strict orders not to divulge our destination to anyone--we don't know if you're Imperials or neutral, or what. Stand by while I contact my superiors." Wedge replied.

[Thomas]

Getting good.

[Voy_Girl]

Yeah..

[Link, the Hero of Time]

PART II - PICARD THE MERCENARY


Picard waited at the shuttle door in silence. When it hissed open, he saluted the officers awaiting him crisply, feeling a bitter sense of loss of it all. "Admiral Picard." The voice threw him, for a moment, but he rapidly placed it.

"Ma'am." he said, formally. The president of the United Federation of Planets inclined her head.

"Picard, I want to talk to you about your request for dismissal from the service."

"I have my reasons, Ma'am."

"I'm sure you think you do. The fact is, Picard, you're the scapegoat for this mess, but that won't last forever. I know if you could have averted this whole catastrophe you would have. When this is over I for one would be glad to see you back in service... there are some who always suggested that Admiralty was a waste of your talents for field command."

"Ma'am. I must leave the fleet immediately. I have to - There are many things that I must deal with here. I am no longer fit for service in this fleet." He unclipped his rank pips and communicator badge and offered them. She stared at them for a long while.

"I know this must gall you, Picard. I can tell..."

"Please, Ma'am..."

"Call me by my proper name, Damn you! We've know each other too long to beat around the bush."

"Luxwana. Please understand that I cannot allow my name to be linked with the fleet any more. I have to leave."

"I know you must feel guilty over Deanna..."

"Luxwana, please just listen. I have received word that it just might be possible that they are still alive. But in order to follow this lead I must be disgraced and dismissed." Luxwana Troi stared at him with sad eyes.

"Deanna was more dear to me than your entire crew was to you. If there is the slimmest chance she might be alive, you must do as you see fit." She turned on her heel and left. Picard looked at the ground for a moment.

"Most impressive, Mon amour." Picard tensed. "Hi honey. You'll never believe who I just ran into."

"I could hazard a guess," Picard said quietly, turning slowly around. Vash was there, hands on hips, looking serious. "There I am, closing the deal of the century, and pow, big flash of light. I'm going to wring the little-"

"Those are such widely held sentiments, my dear, that you'll just have to take a ticket and get in line along with the rest of the galaxy." The mocking laughter put the seal on the arrogance of the voice.

"Q!" they yelled in unison. There was a flash, and Q appeared, dressed in a medieval costume that Picard recognized. "Dashing, isn't it?" Q smiled, giving his Guy of Gisburne outfit a quick brush down with the palm of his hand. "Ah, this brings back memories... You are an extremely tricky woman, Vash, and I am certain I did those Tellarites a big favor by removing you from their presence. Have I mentioned that you've hardly aged a bit? Unlike our dreary companion, whose head has, if its possible, got grayer than ever."

"You've given me more than a few extra gray hairs, Q." Picard said, rubbing his bald head to subvert the joke.

"And in return, Picard, you have given me whole minutes of amusement. I believe Tallera is waiting for you in a little coffee bar to the left of the main exit. You'll need this." He threw Picard a small bottle. Picard read the label and then looked at Q in surprise. "Super glue remover?" he asked. A terrible thought hit him. "See you around, Picard," Q said and popped out. "Come on, Vash. Tallera is in a bit of a sticky situation."

[Voy_Girl]

Hey, that's good!

[Thomas]

Yeah.

[Voy_Girl]

FOTW, w. 15

[Link, the Hero of Time]

"So you see, Captain Riker, you're in a bit of a sticky situation."

"Thank you for pointing that out." Riker put in drily.

"We are more than willing to tow you in for repairs, but we'd need certain assurances first."

"If I and some of my crew transport over to you as honor hostages, and you place a small unit on our ship, will that suit you?"

"Certainly. I'll be interested to meet you, Captain."

"The same, likewise. Riker out. Okay, people," Riker began, "Myself, Mr. Crusher, Mr. Worf and Lieutenant Barclay will beam over. Counselor Troi will receive the visitors. Understood?" The nods of the heads around him acknowledged that. With that, the four chosen turned and left in the turbolift for the Transporter Room.

On the bridge of the Excelsior, Captain Ma'Baan was extremely shocked when four people materialized out of thin air. His already wide eyes widened still further. The tall man with the beard stepped forward decisively, one hand extended in greeting. "I'm Captain Riker."

"Pleased to meet you, Captain," Ma'Baan recovered his footing. "If you don't mind, just how did you do that little trick?"

"We have matter transporters." Ma'Baan blinked involuntarily.

"If it were not for the evidence of my own eyes, I would be inclined to call you a liar or a madman."

"Haven't you developed a matter-transferance system?"

"Perhaps we might have, if we had not spent so many years fighting amongst ourselves..."

"Civil Wars?" "Bitter and vicious ones. It is noted by us that your ship is not a ship of war. Although we are puzzled by the wreckage of the TIE fighters : the energy-to-destruct ratio seems ludicrously small. Some predictions even range to 2 : 4. Our own turbolasers cannot get beyond 17 : 6."

"We used Photon Torpedoes."

"How odd. Our own ships carry Proton torpedoes. It appears we have a great deal to discuss, Captain Riker."

The ships in the Enterprise shuttlebay were the same daggerlike vessels that had made such short work of the attacking craft. They had slipped gently between the ripped doors and settled. Three men and three small, stumpy robots were approaching the airlocked door, their faces hidden behind helmet seals and blast shields. The outer door hissed closed and the lock cycled open. "I'm Wedge Antilles, and these are Meko and Tikks. You're Counselor Troi?"

"Yes." Troi acknowledged with a small nod.

"If you don't mind me asking, just who were you Counselor for?" Troi paused, trying to understand Wedge's question.

"I'm a psychiatrist and empath. My job is watching the mental health of the crew."

"Hmm. I figured you were a bit different, but this is going to take some adjusting to..."

[Voy_Girl]

Write more when you can.

[Thomas]

Oh, it's getting good.

[tom_88_2]

This is a great story

[Link, the Hero of Time]

I've been in and out of the hospital lately so I'll post more of the story when I can.

Thanks for reading.

[Link, the Hero of Time]

PART III - TROI AND THE ROGUE.

Tallera was sitting silently, fuming slightly, when Picard found her. "This is an insult for which you will pay dearly, Picard. Whoever that oaf was who dared to- to-"

"Glue you to your seat, please continue?"

"He had better start watching his back unless he wants a knife in it!"

Picard studied his fingers for a moment. "Is that all?" When Tallera went a very undignified purple he continued quickly, "You've just met Q. He makes a habit out of annoying people for no very good reason. And as for killing him, well, I'm afraid there's rather a backlog of death threats on him at the moment." Tallera smiled coldly. It was not the sort of smile that inspired Picard to rate Q's survival chances very highly if he were ever foolish enough to get within arm's reach of her.

"I need you to do me a favour, Tallera. I need a small team of top mercenaries for some very unusual work. And I need them soon."
Tallera's eyes flickered for a moment as she tallied up past acquaintances. "What sort of team?"

"A general combat one. It may be necessary to take back a starship."
Tallera narrowed her eyes. "I can name two, plus myself, who might be convinced to do it for appropriate cash payments."

"I need four or five." Something in Tallera's face puzzled Picard. "How badly?"

"I'm willing to pay a lot."

"Then I can get you the best shipboard fighter the galaxy has ever known. But you'd better be extremely well provided for or have a hell of a good reason. The Raven doesn't come for just anyone."

Vash raised her eyebrows. "He's still kicking around?"

"Yes." Tallera said, looking mildly annoyed. "I ran across him when I was time jumping with Q, about fifty years ago." "Fifty years? He-"

"He's an immortal, Picard."

[Voy_Girl]

Still good plot.

[Link, the Hero of Time]

The X-Wings, Captain Riker decided, were startlingly beautiful machines. There was a hard edge to them; they had the symmetry and poise of a throwing dagger, the clean, sharp, deadly lines that made them look as though they were moving even sitting still. He wouldn't mind taking one out for a spin sometime. Except, of course, for the minor fact that there wasn't a gun in the place aimed right at his back. He could understand the paranoia, but he wished it would get disposed of. This 'Alliance' had been fighting for years, he understood, and were liable to keep on fighting. He turned to the robot who was following him. There, too, was something different : in this galaxy, robotics was clearly an advanced science, capable of mass producing units. This was a protocol droid, he understood, an aging model called a B-2DI. It was roughly humanoid, but with a polished silver surface.

"So where exactly are we going to go?"

"The orders came in from Counselor Organa-Solo only moments ago, sir. The Princess has taken some considerable interest in your appearance, and has ordered you to be brought to a rendezvous at the soonest opportunity. Once our technicians have finished convincing our network to talk to yours, we shall be on our way to meet the Millennium Falcon."

"How about you fill me in on the history of this place while we're moving along."

"Certainly sir, but I should warn you I'm only an interpreter and not very good at telling stories. Well, not at making them interesting, anyway." Two years ago, the Rebel Alliance scored a crushing blow against the Galactic Empire, with the destruction of both it's latest weapon, the Death Star, and it's heads, the Emperor Palpatine and Darth Vader, in one blow, at the battle of Endor..."

Over on the Enterprise, Troi was just bringing the tour to an end with the Holodecks. The pilots - the only name she knew was their leader, Wedge - looked around in stunned surprise as she ran the Black Sea program that Worf had introduced to her. Wedge looked around and grinned.

"This is amazing. And you say this is all for recreation?"

"It is occasionally used for training, but more often that's done in a specific gym. Mostly it's here for relaxation."

"Can I program something?"

"Sure : Computer, accept the next voice and allow base-level clearance."

"Hi there. Desert environment, double-suns, canyons formed by wind erosion. A large valley." The simulation began to form.

"A city. Sprawling. Buildings mostly in white, all in early stages of decay." He looked around. "It'd pass for Tatooine." He looked around. "If my eyesight were a little poorer." Troi detected a deep well of memories.

"Is this your homeworld?" she asked. "Not mine. A friend's." A bitter twinge of pain clouded his thoughts. "I wonder where he is right now."

"Roughly six months ago we started having trouble with the Imperials again. Almost overnight, they began to co-ordinate on a much larger scale, forming a coherent fleet in this area. Five months ago, we discovered that one of the Admirals of the Fleet was unaccounted for. Three months ago, an expedition to this area vanished without trace. And a month ago, Princess Solo's brother, the Jedi Knight Luke Skywalker, was in this sector when his X-wing vanished without a trace. While he is not assumed to be dead, given his remarkable survival skills, the chances of finding him are extremely small. And the battle against the Imperials grows harder every day. It seems that the battle of Endor was not as final as we might have wished."

Riker nodded grimly. This galaxy had been torn by war for decades. He had heard the story of the Clone Wars, the Old Republic pitted against the Empire, and of the Rebel alliance and the battles of Yavin and Endor. He had heard the story of the young 'Jedi', Skywalker, and of his friends : the smuggler Han Solo, the pilot Wedge Antilles, and the roguish Lando Calrissian. And of his sister, the current figurehead of the New Republic, Leia Organa. He had never before encountered any group so strained by irreconcilable wars. The Emperor made Hitler look like nothing but a naughty schoolboy. And the coldly related information about Grand Moff Tarkin was enough to make him shudder. The concentration camps had not accrued so many deaths over the course of the entire second world war as Tarkin had ordered in one moment when he commanded that the first Death Star be fired on Alderaan. He would have been inclined to disregard the stories as propaganda, but it was all so believable. He had the feeling that trying to explain the slowly boiling tensions of the Romulan problem and the deteriorating alliance with the Klingons, not to mention the Cardassians and the ever-more-complex beauracracy of the Federation, would be like trying to explain Socrates to a Rock. It wasn't that they were stupid, just that their frame of reference was entirely different. He sighed.

"You've had a more difficult time of it than us, and that's a fact. The only real war we had to contend with was the Eugenics wars, way back in the twentieth century."

"Is your society stable, sir?"

"Not exactly. We don't fight openly, but there's always that threat. And there's always a paper war happening somewhere. And we've met any number of beings and races that could forseeably destroy us if they put their mind to it. Let me tell you about the Borg..."


((The Next Part You'll have had to read Q Squared to understand...))

[Link, the Hero of Time]

Picard surveyed his small group. Lansen was a short, wiry fellow with a permanent grin. According to Tallera, he was the best thief in the system. Next to him, Koigot stood, quiet, impassive. A glittering implant lit his temple, revealing the tiny interface jack that connected to his little biocomputer. He was a deadly shot. But the Raven was still more impressive. He stood nearly six inches taller than Picard. Slung at his side was a broadsword of some length. He wore a long black overcoat that was ragged at the bottom, giving him the air of a tattered old bird. He wore a black hat and a mask of black metal with a stylized Raven on it in white. Behind the eyespots, his eyes glowed redly.

"I will do this for nothing." He announced, his English slightly tainted with an unidentifiable accent. "Loyalty to comrades, one final stand against the uncaring machine, these are pleasing concepts to me. The Raven bids you welcome, Picard."

"Yeah, same here." Lansen grinned. Koigot merely nodded.

"Now we leave," Tallera said with a look of slight annoyance on her face. She seemed disappointed that The Raven had not charges his usual enormous fees.

"Indeed." came the arrogant voice, and Picard half closed his eyes in desperation. "I thought you didn't like interfering too much with events?"

"I'm not in control here, Picard. Do you know how difficult that was to say? I'm quite shattered by the concept. I'm hurrying you along because I'm so terribly BORED by all this fooling around. You see, the two
timelines are beginning to fray, and I rather fear that unless we get your friends back we'll be looking at a full scale Stocastrophe. You really wouldn't want to go through the whole Trelane business again, would you?"

Picard shuddered. Their encounter with Trelane, Q's - appprentice? Pupil? protege? - had been emotionally searing. He had seen Jack Crusher, driven half insane, ripped from another universe and dropped into their own. He had witnessed a Beverly Crusher dying - which Beverly, from an infinite number of possible Beverlies, he could not know, but the sound of her neck breaking as she fell had driven ice into his soul. "You see, Picard, that anomaly was never intended to be permanent. It was a fledgling immortal's first attempt at something really impressive that got quite out of hand. The distortion around it is so great that even Q-continuum physical laws begin to break down. We call it Drift Hysteresis. Darktime. It's a conjunction point between two galaxies that are fundamentally not equipped to be connected. Think of it as the point between a vat of nitroglycerine and a roaring fire. If it opens too widely, the reality bulkheads may fail and a chain reaction might just take us all out in a bang that would make the big one look like a damp firecracker. So let's move, shall we?" Picard clenched his fists. This was going to be interesting to say the least.