A TANGLED WEB Part I: A SLIDE IN TIME
By Charlie Nelson
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters written in this story. All major characters are owned by rich corporations and I am just borrowing them. Also, I am making no money by writing this story. I write this for the fun of it as well as to better my creative instinct and grammatical skills.
Classification: Crossover
I think I should explain that part of what I am trying to do with this story is to mix as many storylines together as possible and still make it interesting and true to the characters. The challenge to myself is to effectively blend some old sci-fi with some new sci-fi shows. This story will include many crossovers starting with DOCTOR WHO, SLIDERS and STAR TREK.
Star Trek: The timeframe for this crossover finds the Next Generation crew in the movies, Deep Space Nine has been reclaimed from the Dominion and Ezri Dax is on board, and Voyager has Seven of Nine but not the Borg children.
Sliders: Sometime before season three began and the original four sliders were still together.
Doctor Who: The Fourth Doctor (played by Tom Baker) with his companion Leela and the canine robot K-9.
This is a re-write of the first story that I made. Hope you enjoy it. I'll be adding the other chapters as I correct errors.
Warning: There will be some character deaths. Not in part one, but keep reading and you will see.
A TANGLED WEB Part I: A SLIDE IN TIME
By Charlie Nelson
It began with a big BANG!
Alarms filled the many rooms inside the TARDIS. Leela rushed through the hallway until she came to the room where she found the Doctor leaning over the console. "What has happened? Are we under attack?" asked the beautiful brown haired young woman dressed in rough hunting leathers. Her eyes sparkled with the excitement of possible danger and adventure; her hand firmly grasped the knife still in its sheath attached to her belt.
"Nothing so exciting, Leela," spoke the Doctor. He turned a few dials while examining some of the readouts. "The TARDIS has simply run into something."
"How is that possible," asked Leela, still alert but calming down. Though she did not grow up with a technological background, she had learned to respect and trust the complex TARDIS that she and the Doctor traveled in. In fact, much to the Doctor's annoyance, due to her primitive upbringing she seemed to consider the TARDIS some sort of deity and the console some form of altar. However, the Doctor did not see himself as any kind of holy man.
The Doctor didn't even bother to look up at her as he answered. "Since the TARDIS travels outside of space and time we must have bumped into something that was similarly traveling through space and time." The alarms stopped. "Finally!" the Doctor exclaimed. Then with no further explanation he moved to another part of the console and checked more of the readouts. "Hmmm… whatever it was does not appear to be there anymore. But there does seem to have been something alive out there. No make that four somethings alive… or were alive at any rate."
"Did we destroy them then, Doctor?"
"Hmm. What!? No. No. We bumped it. Or merely tapped each other in passing. If we had crashed into each other directly then according to these energy readings we'd all have been wiped out of existence." He leaned up at Leela and smiled. "And that doesn't seem to have happened."
"I see," answered Leela, who really wasn't happy with that answer. To die in battle was something Leela could easily accept, but to die by accidentally running into something else just seemed rather pointless to the young warrior. "Were the people in the other ship hurt?"
"Oh, I really don't know. There seems to have been no ship, yet we hit something. The really puzzling thing is these energy readings. I wonder…"
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A swirl of bluish-white energy appeared out of the night sky filling the alleyway. One by one, four figures were flung from inside the circular energy mass and into the hard walls of the alley. Then a moment later the circle of light closes in on itself so abruptly that any witnesses would wonder if it had been there at all.
A groan of complaint rose from one of the four figures. "Ohhh… ow. I hurt. I really hurt something bad this time." Slowly the dark-skinned man turned and sat up. "I feel like I hit a brick wall."
"Well, you're partially correct," groaned another of the figures. An older man with a trim black beard and expanding waistline slowly got up brushing some of the dirt off of his clothing. "It was a wall," responded Professor Maximilian Arturo, "but not like any we've run into before. And it is certainly not made of bricks. I don't recall bricks ever being so hard."
"Professor!" a third figure called out. "My arm!"
The Professor turned seeing the young woman gingerly holding her left arm. "Wade! Don't move!" called out the Professor as he rushed to her side with a speed that one would not expect from such a large man. Once he looked the arm over his face became grave. "Well, there's good news and bad news."
The young woman, Wade Welles, looked at him with pain and confusion.
"The good news is that you'll keep the arm and play the keyboard again."
"And the bad news…?" she asked.
The Professor sighed but made sure he looked her in the eye as he told her. "It's a bad fracture with signs of some nasty bone splinters. This is going to require some medical attention that we cannot do ourselves. Rembrandt?"
The first figure, Rembrandt Brown, had finally managed to stand without support of the wall. When he heard his name called he turned to answer and almost fell in the attempt. "Yeah, Professor?"
"Go to alley entrance and see what kind of world we arrived at this time. Wade needs medical attention."
Rembrandt turned to where the alley opened up. He used the wall to brace himself as he walked and began to marvel at how smooth the wall was. Smooth and hard, he thought. A twinge in his left leg almost made him collapse, but he took a breath and continued. "Man, I think I need medical attention, too," he muttered to himself. Stepping out into the open his eyes first focused on the familiar sight of the Golden Gate Bridge, then he saw… "Toto, I don't think we are in Kansas anymore."
"What wrong, Mr. Brown?" the professor asked from further back in the alley.
"I think you better come out and see this, Professor. Cause if you can't see this, then I must have hit that wall harder than I thought!"
The Professor let out a painful moan as he rose to his feet. He knew he was going to carry the pain of this slide for at least a week. This world had better be user-friendly, or we are all going to be in real trouble, he thought. After much limping, he came to where Rembrandt was staring out into the landscape of the San Francisco Bay area. One look in the direction Rembrandt was gazing caused his jaw to drop. "I don't believe it."
The night sky of the San Francisco was filled with lights and huge buildings of fantastic shapes and sizes. But what was the hardest for the two Sliders to accept was the sight of ships flying around the sky. Ships that in no way resembled the airplanes used in their world.
"Spaceships," Rembrandt finally spoke.
"N-no. Not nec-necessarily." The Professor paused before continuing. "It could just be a type of airship, like we use motor vehicles back in our world…in our universe."
"You really think they could make vehicles like that and not have them go into space?" responded the Crying Man half in shock and in anger.
"I'm not questioning that, but it is quite evident that this Earth is much more advanced than our Earth."
"Hey, guys!" came a shout from the alley.
"Wade?" the Professor asked barely turning away from the awesome sight in front of him. "Is something else wrong?"
"Why isn't Quinn moving?"
The two men turned to each other. They had forgotten about Quinn! They both hobbled as they ran to where the prone body of the forth Slider, Quinn Mallory, laid in the shadows just beyond where they had all fallen.
Wade had managed to turn over Quinn's body by the time the two men got there. His face was half covered with blood. Part of the blood came from where he had bit through his lip but most of it came from an ugly wound on his forehead, which was the first evidence of something seriously wrong.
The professor checked his breathing and heart. "Not good, but still hanging on." Next, he checked Quinn's eyes.
"He's gonna be alright, though, right?" Wade's eyes pleaded for a yes. "He's not going to d-!" She stopped, unable to continue. Quinn had been one of her closest friends for years. Long before they had met the other two. Long before sliding. She had always thought that one day they would get together and get married, have kids and the whole ball of wax. Even when the sliding started, she thought they would get together and settle down. If not on their world, then on another. But now?!
"At the very least he might have a severe concussion. And that is if he is extremely lucky."
"Q-Ball? Come on, man!" Rembrandt pleaded with his unresponsive friend. "You gotta get up! There's a whole new shiny world filled with all the technological goodies you like so much!"
"Professor, what should we do?" asked Wade with tears in her eyes.
Before he could answer, they were startled when Rembrandt cried out. "Noooo!"
The other two Sliders turned to Quinn thinking he had passed on, but his chest still rose and fell in shallow breathes. Then they saw the source of Rembrandt's cry. In Quinn's hand was a smashed timer that opened the sliding portal. Parts of it were even missing. So was their last hope of getting home.
"No!" Rembrandt yelled out again. "Now we're stuck here! Now we'll never slide home to our Earth! Our Dimension!"
A hand slapped him hard in the face bringing him back to reality. The first thing he saw past the stars was the angry eyes of Wade. Eyes that were crying. "How can you think of that at a time like this!? Quinn is hurt and maybe dying right in front of us! He needs us to be there for him," she screamed. "He was always there for you when you needed him!" Her yells began turning more and more into hysterical sobs as she continued. "Now he needs us! He needs us to be strong for him… and help him!" She fell to her knees crying.
"I-I'm sorry, Wade, I didn't mean-"
"We don't have time for this, Mr. Brown."
Rembrandt looked stricken until he saw the soft light in the Professor's eyes.
"You will have to go for help. Wade and I will attend to Quinn until you return."
"Help?" Rembrandt repeated. His brain finally grabbed ahold of that word and how that might be possible. "That's right. This is a futuristic sci-fi-ish world. They could probably fix up old Q-Ball faster than he could hurt himself." Rembrandt managed a grin. "I'm on it, Professor. I'll get help in no time." He looked down at the crying young woman. Ah, man. I really upset her, he thought. What should I say? I should say something? Apologize or- "Wade, I'm going for help, so everything is going to be okay, alright?"
She managed to look up at him. Suddenly a half smile strained across her face as she wiped away her tears in embarrassment. "Yeah. You go do that."
With a last look at Quinn's body Rembrandt turned and started hobbling toward the entrance of the alleyway. A thought of inspiration hit him. Maybe these sci-fi people can even fix the timer!
Halfway there he heard a voice call out, a voice he didn't recognize. "Freeze! This is a stick-up. Stop right where you are, Hew-mons!"
Rembrandt froze. Not now! he thought. He slowly turned to see who had called out.
In the far end of the alley, out of the shadows came two short, ugly, large eared, bald humanoids with thin, jagged teeth. They couldn't possibly be Human. Both seemed to be pointing something in his direction that made him think it was probably some sort of gun.
"Don't move! This is a stick-up!" the alien repeated obviously nervous.
"What do you mean stick-up?" asked his cohort. "These are phasers we're using, not sticks."
The first alien was rattled by the others questioning. "Shut up! It's an Earth saying used when robbing someone. If you would study the local culture you know that."
"You have to quote 'this is a stick-up' in order for the people to know they are being robbed? I would think a phaser pointed at them would clarify the process for them."
"Hew-mons are very stupid. That's why we have to say 'this is a stick-up' so they know what is going on." Exasperated the first alien turned back to the Humans. "Now, freeze."
The second alien shook his head. "What does lowing their body temperature going-?!" He stopped when he noticed his companion's phaser suddenly pointing at him. He turned backed to the Humans staring at them. "Freeze, ugly Hew-mons!"
The Professor was the first to answer the aliens. "What is it you want?"
"We want the technology you use to go between parallel universes. Don't bother denying it! We heard you talking about it. Our Ferengi ears are very good at eavesdropping."
"Does this mean we aren't going to break into the warehouse after this to see what we can find," the other alien said sounding disappointed.
"Will you shut up, Blout!" yelled the first Ferengi. "This technology is worth a hundred times more than whatever we would find in that warehouse. Now focus on the job!"
"Alright," relied the second Ferengi who was suddenly more attentive now that he knew there were still credits to be had.
"Now where is the device you use, Hew-mon?"
This question was directed at the Professor, who seemed taken aback. Seeing that lying would get him nowhere he thought the truth just might. "The device lies broken there in my unconscious friend's hand."
"But you can fix it, yes?" demanded the first alien thrusting his phaser at the Professor in a threatening manner.
"No," the Professor partially lied. "It has to be almost completely rebuilt. And only he," the Professor pointed to Quinn, "has the knowledge to do it."
"He's dying?" asked Blout as he moved forward to look more closely at the prone Human.
The Professor saw a chance and decided to take it. "He might unless he gets immediate medical attention."
"Who are you and where do you come from?" questioned the first alien. Then he squinted his eyes and raised his phaser at the Professor in a more aggressive. "And don't lie to me Hew-mon! I'll know if you lie to me and you won't like what I do to you if you do lie."
The black-bearded man thought quickly of what he could say and what had already been spoken aloud about sliding in the alleyway. He didn't know the norm for this world so he would have to take everything at face value. That didn't help much considering that hostile aliens had weapons trained on him and his friends. But Quinn's immediate need of medical aid helped him to form desperate perspectives.
"My name is Professor Maximilian Arturo," He paused to reflect upon what he was about to do. He looked down at Quinn's battered body and then into the teary eyes of Wade and realized he had no choice. "We call ourselves Sliders. Travelers that go between parallel worlds that are alike but slightly different."
"Different how," demanded the first alien.
Arturo didn't like the fact of giving away too much information. He had hoped he could entice these creatures with some vague information, so they would comply with his wishes of seeing to Quinn's injuries, then eventually escape before they learned too much to become dangerous to other worlds. "Each world is unique. Some worlds are more advanced technologically; others are primitive." He grimaced and added, "Some worlds allow for the advancement of other creatures or even magic." He stopped, wondering if he said too much. But it was too late to retract any of his statements, so he decided to return to his appeal "Now see to my young friend's wounds!" he demanded. It came out more like a plea.
The leading Ferengi thought a moment. Then a twinkle of comprehension appeared in his eye followed by a broad grim. He turned to his companion. "Put your phaser on stun and shoot them. We're taking them with us. And if you question me about it, Blout, I'll dock you 55% of your earnings."
The second Ferengi bit his lip, a painful gesture for a Ferengi. He really wanted to ask some questions, but profit was always more important. So with a sigh, he adjusted his phase setting and shot the female who was trying to stand up while cradling her arm. The Professor held up his hands in a futile attempt to surrender but was likewise stunned.
Rembrandt couldn't believe his eyes. Just when he thought things couldn't get any worse, they did. He turned and sprinted for the entrance of the alleyway willing his injured legs to go faster than they were willing to go. Phaser fire came close as he turned the corner. He stopped there, unsure of what to do and unwilling to leave his friends, his last link to home, behind.
As he stood beside the wall, he could hear the two Ferengi bickered amongst themselves. After a few minutes the bickering seemed to ease off as the two Ferengi talked things out. Rembrandt decided to take a chance and peeked around the corner. The Ferengi were standing over the bodies of his friends and one was holding the broken timer in its hand. Suddenly the air around them shimmered in white light and they were gone.
And Rembrandt was alone.
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"K-9" called the Doctor
"Yes, Master," came a reply from around the corridor followed by a metallic object rolling into the room, stopping in front of the Doctor. The object basically resembled a metallic gray rectangular box on wheels with a bad facsimile of a dog's head mounted on the front.
"I need you to look at this signature analysis and compare them with the data in the TARDIS data records to find something similar. I need to know what could have made them and anything else you might discover."
"Affirmative." The little satellite dish-like ears began to twitch as it sought the information from the console of the TARDIS so that K-9 could fulfill the its master's request.
Leela frowned. "Doctor, do you have any guesses as what it could have been?"
The Doctor smiled at Leela. "I have some ideas but nothing conclusive yet."
"Such as?"
He smiled over at her. "Well, I know for certain the energy reading originated around the late twentieth century on Earth, but the means of the travel are still eluding me."
"And some of the means might be…?" inquired Leela.
"My, you're inquisitive today. But all right, I want to encourage that. Let me think, sometime in the later twentieth century of Earth, mankind had been making significant progress in technology. Some of those creative energies were applied to time travel."
"Like we travel in the TARDIS?" asked Leela as she sat down. Now that she got the Doctor talking she knew he could keep himself going for quite a while. She might as well be comfortable.
"No, not like the TARDIS, but some of them are rather creative in how they have accomplished time travel, though I perceive them to be extremely dangerous and fool-hardy. For example, two scientists, a Dr. Tony Newman and a Dr. Doug Phillips, came up with the idea of extending a tunnel through time itself to visit the past as well as the future."
"How could that be dangerous?"
"Technically, things are always flying through space and time. The TARDIS, fortunately, has sensors to avoid such obstacles. Now, the-"
"But, Doctor, we were just hit by something while traveling through space and time."
"Yes, that is why it is imperative that we find out what it is so that the TARDIS can avoid things like it the next time," answered the Doctor. "See, that is the whole problem with the 'time tunnel' the scientists had created. It was this big long thing that extended through time and space. They had no means of sensing objects coming at them. Even if they did, they could not move out of the way of it. Of course, soon after they began the program, they learned how little control over it they really had."
"I see." Leela thought a moment. "And another example would be…"
"Well, there is this group of… I guess you could call them the Time Lords of Earth. They are a group dedicated to preserving history from alteration from other time travelers or time anomalies. They call themselves the 'Voyagers' and use an ingenious little handheld device called an Omni to travel through time. I believe I have one somewhere in the TARDIS. It had been broken and I have been meaning to fix it when I got the time but sometimes even in a time machine there-"
"-isn't enough time. Yes. Having traveled with you, I noticed it a while ago."
"Yes well," sputtered the Doctor. "I once met a Dr. Brown who built a time machine into a car, a Delorian, actually. Probably one of the more reasonable non-Gallifrian designs I have ever come across. Extremely interesting man. He was able to grasp the dangers of time travel and dealt with it accordingly." The Doctor paused in thought. "I suspect he may have actually been one of the founders of the Earth time traveling guardians, the Voyagers. I shall have to look into that some day."
"Master," K-9 spoke up. "I have completed the analysis of the data you wanted examined."
The Doctor pivoted on his feet to face the robot dog. "And?"
"It was a temporal spatial energy field. It was being used to generate a pathway between two parallel worlds."
"And what was transported through this tunnel?" asked the Doctor.
"At the time of impact with the TARDIS there were four Humans in the tunnel."
"Four people slipping from one world to another in a tunnel of pure energy?! Made from 20th century technology?! Madness!"
Leela spoke up, "Are they all right?"
"What? Oh no, no. I'm afraid they couldn't possible have survived a collision unless," the Doctor paused in thought. "K-9, did the energy tunnel just end when it hit the TARDIS, or did it continue on its course?"
The metallic dog seemed to perk up in response to its master's query. "The energy tunnel was slightly deflected by the TARDIS causing the energy tunnel to go off course."
The Doctor quickly turned to his console to navigate the coordinates that K-9 had supplied.
"Doctor, what are we doing?"
The Doctor turned to her with a startling intensity. "We are going to find those four people, offer them any aid we can, and return them to where they should be. I refuse to be a hit-and-run driver." He turned back to his console to make more adjustments. "People who don't take care of their mistakes are a bane to existence. Responsibility is a sacred thing, Leela. We must never forget that."
Leela looked at the Doctor with pride and just a little awe. "Of course, Doctor. I understand," she said quietly.
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The Ferengi ship, Flarqesf Snixek (Spoils of Profit), quickly made its way out of the Earth solar system and on its way toward the Ferengi Homeworld. Although the ship flew in the silence of space, the inside of the ship was anything but silent.
Dverl walked purposely onto the bridge ignoring the hisses of his fellow Ferengi crew members. Following him, Blout came cowering and unwilling to look anyone in the eyes.
"Dverl, what in the name of the Grand Nagus have you done!?" screeched a Ferengi sitting next to the DaiMon's chair.
Dverl felt the angry eyes of his crewmates on him -crewmates that had expected him to come back with valuable technologies stored in the Starfleet warehouse- not three injured Hew-mons. Word had spread fast through the ship, but he had expected that. Now he just had to get them to listen to him before they confiscated all his holdings and spaced him off the ship. "Watch your tone with me, you lobeless monstrosity!"
Gint's nostril's flared and an angry flush spread across his face causing what remained of his ears to burn a bright red. It was insulting enough that Dverl had talked back to him, but that he should bring up the damage incurred from a rather irate Klingon customer in his insult only made it more... insulting!
The eyes of the bridge crew were glued to the two antagonists, waiting for what they did not know, but they wanted to be ready for it. Blout's jaw just hung open in shock of all the activity around him.
Then from the other side of the room came a wheezing noise. Heads turned to see the DaiMon of the ship standing in the doorway to his private quarters. He was skinnier than most Ferengi, had more wrinkles, and one could easily see he was ill. Truth was he had a simple virus that could easily be treated, but would not be because he didn't want to pay for the medication. He was frugal that way and in many others. And his crew respected him for it. And now as they listened to his wheezing they knew he was laughing. He had been sick for a while now.
A young intern, Nix, was at the DaiMon's side and helped him his chair in the middle of the room. Nix than took his seat at the feet of the DaiMon. He had paid highly for the right to sit there and gleam the words of wisdom and advice that came from the famous DaiMon of the Flarqesf Snixek. He had sat there for six months already and still had it reserved for two more. Normally an intern would not be allowed to stay that long on the ship, but Nix was the DaiMon's nephew so had been allowed to pay the extra amount to continue on further.
The DaiMon, Shmun, shook his head, trying to get the pain out that was building up in his ears. As DaiMon of the ship, he was expected to come up with profit for himself and the crew. And as DaiMon, if the ship did not make profit, he had to find someone to blame. Dverl had been his chief agent of acquisitions for three years and never before had he made such a non-profitable mistake. Still, that wasn't going to keep Dverl and Blout from getting hung by their ears.
"Dverl, I sent you to appropriate certain items in the Star Fleet Academy's warehouse. Items that I already had buyers in line to sell to. Now I hear you are back, early I might add, without any of the items I requested, and with the added baggage of three Hew-mons, one of which is practically dead, if not dead already." Shmun paused, his quiet, wheezing voice had somehow silenced the entire bridge and he kept it so with his stare. "Well, Dverl, is there anything I left out?"
"He insulted your second-in-command and your honor," roared Gint.
"Nix," snarled Shmun. "Dock Gint one." It was one of Shmun's customs to charge a penalty to anyone who brings up matters that are not consequential to the matters at hand. The common fine was one strip of latinum for every act of insubordination. And on Shmun's ship anything that happened to bring that discussion away from profit or was not regarding the profit was considered insubordination.
Gint opened his mouth to protest, but caught himself. He had been on this ship for years and had once been witness to a similar situation while he had been a lowly engineer. The arguments had started quickly and as it heated up Shmun had docked people throughout the whole discussion. In the end nothing had been resolved to the crews' advantage: the unfortunate scapegoat was spaced and his belongings confiscated by the DaiMon and the DaiMon had levied out over 37 fines to his crew. The lesson that Gint learned best from that experience was that Shmun would find profit in any situation. Even at the expense of his crew. He chose his words carefully. "What measly excuse could he give that could explain his incompetence? He messed up and cheated us- No," he paused for effect and turned to his Ferengi shipmates, "he practically stole from us the profits that would have been ours! Why should we listen to him now!"
Shmun sat back in his chair in amusement deciding this wasn't worth docking yet. Gint had stayed on the subject even if he was getting over dramatic about it. "Very well, Nix, tell him why we should listen to what Dverl has to say."
From his spot at his uncle's feet, Nix grinned wildly at being asked to participate. "Of course, sir." Still grinning he turned to Gint. "The Seventh Rule of Acquisition: Keep Your Ears Open," he quoted.
Shmun's first thought was of tearing Nix's ears off. Then he looked over at Dverl who had been strangely quiet this whole time. Worse. Dverl was smiling, too. "Very well," he said begrudgingly, "let's see if there is any profit in this."
With a gesture from Shmun, Dverl addressed his audience. "My fellow crewmates, I can easily understand your initial reaction of anger in your common greed not being meet here today." He stopped and allowed them a few seconds to mutter to themselves before continuing. "But I have accomplished something that may not only meet all of your greed today, but for the rest of your lives." This time when he paused there was silence caused by their unbelief. Shmun sat listening patiently with no show of emotion on his face, only his attention. Dverl continued. "The profit margins that can be made by these Hew-mons are incalculable."
Gint laughed as he stood up from his chair. "Clearly you over exaggerate!"
Dverl smiled evilly. "No, I do not."
"This is preposterous!" shrilled Gint.
"Nix, deducted another slip of latinum from Gint," said Shmun casually. "Dverl, please enlighten us with your findings. And what do you think is so profitable about these Hew-mons."
Gint growled softly as he watched the giggling Nix charge another penalty to his account.
Dverl discerned that his onlookers we finally ready to hear him out. He could tell that a few had even begun to hope that he was telling the truth. They would soon learn that he was.
"As Bloat and I were attempting to gain entrance into the storage building, we happened to see a most interesting sight which turned out to be the arrival of some Hew-mons." He stopped with a sigh. "It was rather breathtaking, wasn't it, Blout?"
Blout cringed at being brought up during such a delicate and dangerous debate. And a potentially costly one at that. Looking to the left and right at his fellow shipmates he managed to produce a response which only came out as a gurgle.
"Yes," continued Dverl paying no attention to Blout, "as soon as I saw it, I knew there were riches to be had, but-," He paused looking out to see a captive audience waiting to hear where the profits were to be made. Gint still stood with his arms crossed, still Dverl knew he was paying close attention. A glance at DaiMon Shmun showed the older Ferengi to be sampling some of his Hupyrian beetle snuff, but Dverl knew he was under closer scrutiny from him more than by anyone else on the ship. He continued, "It wasn't until we overheard the Hew-mons talk amongst themselves about their situation that I was reminded of the Ninety-fifth Rule of Acquisition."
It took Nix a moment before he realized that Dverl's stare at him meant he was supposed to quote the Ferengi Acquisition Rule as he had for Shmun even though everyone on the ship, with the possible exception of Blout, already knew the Rules of Acquisition backwards and forwards. At first, he balked at being put in such a situation by someone who was himself in a desperate situation. Then his mind kicked in and he could not see how this particular Rule of Acquisition could be used in this mess. "Uh," he started. "Expand… or die?"
"Exactly!" Dverl smiled. "Expand or die! Now consider this rule and see how relevant it is for us. The Ferengi have saturated this area of space with trade as far as our ships can take us. It hasn't been easy, especially when certain races like the Hew-mons give bad reports about us to races that haven't even had business dealings with us yet." It was a sore subject, but the grunts and hisses acknowledged his assessment of the situation so far. "That was why when the Bajoran Wormhole suddenly made access to the Gamma Quadrant, the Ferengi traders leaped forward to make contact with new customers."
"So?" demanded Gint. "We seek new customers because some of the old ones are jealous of our gifts at bartering." He made a gesture to his mangled ears. "I think we understand that situation very well, but how is that relevant to your actions tonight?"
"Patience, Gint," Shmun responded. "I think he might be actually going somewhere with this." He turned to Nix. "Intern, now why would the Ferengi continue to go out into foreign space instead of staying home and enjoying the pleasant rainfall every day."
"Uh," Nix knew it was a trick question. No Ferengi enjoyed the constant rainfall of their home planet so Nix concentrated on the other part of the question. Then he answered hesitantly. "The Seventy-Fifth Rule of Acquisition?" When Shmun nodded Nix continued, "Home is where the heart is… but the stars are made of latinum."
"Exactly," laughed Dverl. "You do understand where I am going with this!" he said to Shmun, who he knew didn't know exactly where this was going, but still was miles ahead of the other Ferengi in the room.
"Well, then explain it to the rest of us then," grumbled Gint. "Why did you bring back these three Hew-mons?"
Dverl began to unfold his tale of dimensional-traveling Hew-mons. Also, the possibilities for profit that dimensional-traveling Ferengi could make. "Imagine world after world that does not know of the Ferengi. We could trade in one world where technology is high and trade on another that is low-tech. If a world decides to become inhospitable, then we just won't return there. And we can also bring all new unique things back to our home dimension to sell all over again for even more profit!" As he finished his tale of an inexhaustible supply of wealth flowing into their accounts, he saw that the crew was salivating at his every word. Now for the bad news, he thought to himself. "There is just one problem."
"What?" asked Gint. Gint was a little disgusted with himself. He had found himself glassy-eyed and salivating just like the rest of the crew. He needed to keep his ears cleared if he was going to lead himself to profit.
Dverl held his tongue letting the anticipation build amongst the crew for a moment. "The device that opens these portals to parallel universes is broken, and its creator is one of the three Hew-mons captives aboard the ship, but he will die unless he gets the medical aid he needs."
The crew cried out in anguish.
"Right now he is in a stasis field, but if we can get the Hew-mon medical aid and then have him fix the world jumping machine, then… then we will all be richer than any Ferengi has ever dreamed!" screeched Dverl.
Everyone one clamed up when their wheezing DaiMon rose to his feet. "At this point we don't seem to have any other choice if we are to still profit from this venture at all." Grumbling commenced immediately. "Besides there's nothing wrong with charity."
The crew gasped at this last statement.
Shmun grinned and continued. "As long as it winds up in your pocket!"
The crew laughed even as Nix announced what the DaiMon had quoted was the One Hundred Forty-Fourth Rule of Acquisition. A common but effective source of humor for Ferengi.
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Rembrandt huddled in the dark end of the alley. At first, he had searched the entire alley for clues about who these 'Ferengi' were and where that might have taken his friends. After a time, he collapsed in exhaustion and pain. His legs were screaming for rest and medical care. Rembrandt, known to his music fans as the 'Crying Man', wept. He had lost the others in a new, strange world and all he had to show for his efforts were a few computer chips that had fallen out of the broken timer.
Suddenly a rhythmic raspy groaning could be heard filling the night air. Rembrandt ducked down low, but he hadn't seen anything enter the alley. Great. It must be invisible. Then out of nowhere an antique British police box appeared.
"Oh boy," muttered Rembrandt, "I musta been knocked around harder than I thought." Still, with all his Sliding experience, Rembrandt wasn't going to dismiss this as an illusion. He had no idea what was normal in this world. This could be an everyday occurrence here.
Then the doors to the police box opened. A leather clad beautiful woman walked out followed by a brown curly-haired man wearing … Rembrandt couldn't take in much more than the frumpy, wide-brimmed hat and scarf. But the man's wide-eyed stare was one of such intensity that Rembrandt immediately felt he should question this man's sanity.
"There!" exclaimed the woman. And Rembrandt was surprised to note that she was pointing directly at him. "There is a man hiding in the shadows."
The scarfed man pulled out one of his many devices from his pocket and extended it in the section of the alley that Rembrandt was hiding in.
"This cannot be good," Rembrandt muttered to himself. He wanted to run, but there was nowhere to go and he was just too tired and in pain to move anyway.
The Doctor moved a few dials on the device before studying the results. "Yes, this is one of the individuals who were traveling through the energy tunnel we bumped earlier." He took a few steps toward were Leela and his scanning device had pointed out the man to be located at. Then caution came in to play. Better to send a few words of greeting into the dark then rush blindly into the unknown. Putting on one of his cheerier smiles, he called out into the darker shadows. "I say, hello there. We mean you no harm. Come out of the dark and talk to us."
"I can't."
"Are you hurt?" inquired the Doctor.
"Yes!" came the blunt reply.
"Oh!" The Doctor was surprised at the myriad of emotions that had been expressed by the voice of the individual still hidden in the shadows. With just that one word he could hear the exhaustion, pain, frustration and fear that was overwhelming him. As the Doctor stood there, guilt came upon him, but was quickly chased away by his sense of duty.
Leela was only half-surprised when she noticed the Doctor suddenly walking into the darker part of the alley. "Doctor! He could be dangerous!"
"I'll find out then, won't I," replied the Doctor as he continued walking.
As his eyes adjusted to the dark he could make out in more detail the condition of the man that propped up sitting on the far wall. It didn't look good. "Leela, I'm going to need a hand here."
Rembrandt looked up at the curiously dressed man. "Who are you?"
"I'm the Doctor."
Confused, Rembrandt asked, "Who?"
"Exactly. I'm the man whose vehicle you and your three friends ran into with that energy tunnel."
"What?" Rembrandt just seemed to be getting more lost the more the man talked but he needed to know what was going on, so he tried to pursue the matter. "You hit the vortex?"
"No," denied the Doctor as he examined Rembrandt for injuries. "Your 'vortex' ran into my TARDIS!"
"Sorry to interrupt the beginnings of a good squabble," interposed Leela, "but where are your three companions?"
The man sighed, and a look of sadness moved across his eyes. "They were taken."
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Somewhere else someone watches. "This is amusing so far," he spoke to himself.
He often spoke to himself. Others of his kind believed it was because he liked the sound of his own voice.
They were probably right.
"But let's see what happens when I do this!"
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Elsewhere, a sub-space message is received through deep space after being misdirected. It was a one-way message mainly due to the fact that the distance between where it was being sent and where it was to be received were too great for two-way communication.
That and it was cheaper.
So, the fact that the message was misdirected was never known until later. And then it would be too late.
A Ferengi face appears on a screen and immediately began talking. "Oblix. This is Shmun." The Ferengi smiled largely and continued. "Remember all that latinum we made on those Brean sprockets? Well, we have a much greater opportunity here!" The Ferengi stopped smiling and got down to business. "In order for this to work we need you to round up some things. First, we need someone with medical knowledge of Hew-mons. Specifically, someone who can deal with head trauma and possibly be able to download memory from a damaged brain. Next, we'll need some eggheads to look at a device I've acquired. Someone who can grasp concepts of parallel worlds and temporal energies and similar mumbo-jumbo. Don't mess this up, Oblix. Opportunities like this will never come again." A glaze came over his eyes as his imagination began to take in the possibilities. "It could provide us with the ability to become traders of the most exotic merchandise ever… whether it be grains, animals, or technology. If this works out, we will be the richest beings in the galaxy" The glaze disappeared as he refocused himself. "So again, don't mess this up! Shmun out."
The ship that had received Shmun's message analyzed the message and the direction from which the message had come. Within a minute, the ship changed direction and began an intercept course.
AUTHOR's NoTeS
I started this story at the end of 2000. I was an extreme reader of crossover stories; so much so that I was having a hard time finding new material to read. In my frustration, I tried to placate myself by thinking up storylines for crossover stories I'd like to read. Still waiting for more stories, I thought I'd try writing one of the ideas. I had figuring that I'd probably stop after a few pages. Over ten pages later, I reread what I wrote and enjoyed it, having done far better than I ever expected. So, I kept writing, enjoying the creative experience. Later, I found the courage to publish the story online. Then I found the enriching pleasure of receiving reviews from all over the world! I was surprised to see where some of the reviews had come from, never thinking that my stories would be so far reaching. Unfortunately, I lost all those reviews, which was rather disheartening. That all said, I really recommend that people try their hand at writing if they have the mind to. And I ask everyone to remember to review the stories that they read.
In order of appearance or mentioned:
Leela (Louise Jameson) – from the TV series Doctor Who (1977-1978)
Doctor, The 4th (Tom Baker) – from the TV series Doctor Who (1974-1981)
Brown, Rembrandt 'Crying Man' (Cleavant Derricks) – from the TV series Sliders (1995-2000)
Arturo, Prof. Maximilian (John Rhys-Davies) – from the TV series Sliders (1995-1997)
Welles, Wade (Sabrina Lloyd) – from the TV series Sliders (1995-1997)
Mallory, Quinn 'Q-Ball' (Jerry O'Connell) – from the TV series Sliders (1995-1999)
K-9 (voiced by John Leeson) – from the TV series Doctor Who (1977-?)
Newman, Dr. Tony (James Darren) – from the TV series The Time Tunnel (1966-1967) (mentioned only)
Phillips, Dr. Doug (Robert Colbert) – from the TV series The Time Tunnel (1966-1967) (mentioned only)
Bogg, Phineas (Jon-Erik Hexum) – from the TV series Voyagers (1982-1983) (mentioned only)
Jones, Jeffrey (Meeno Peluce) – from the TV series Voyagers (1982-1983) (mentioned only)
Brown, Dr. Emmett (Christopher Lloyd) – from the movie Back To The Future (1985) (mentioned only)
Q (John de Lancie) – from the TV series Star Trek: The Next Generation (1987-?), Star Trek: Deep Space Nine, Star Trek: Voyager
The Fenengi characters mentioned here are all of my own creation, so no need to look them up. The Rule of Acquisition are cannon, however.
