Infinity 6 Mandatory Boring Disclaimer: It is with great sadness that I admit the characters within these pages are not my own. Captain Bridger, Kristin, Lucas, Ben, Katie, Tim (and all the others we love from the seaQuest crew) belong to Amblin Entertainment and its cohorts in crime in Hollywood. Janeway, Chakotay, Paris, Torres, and Kim (et al.) belong to Paramount and its cohorts in crime in Hollywood. Of course, Sisko, Nerys, Dax, Bashir, O'Brien, and Garak (et al.) belong to Paramount, too. Though I don't own these characters, I take full responsibility for having the insanity to bring all these stories together. I can assure you, Hollywood wouldn't even think of it . . . :)

Alternative Universe: Well, folks, because I'm insane enough to combine seaQuest, Voyager, and DS9 all together into one plot, there are some obvious changes! You'll notice the "obvious changes" quickly, I think.

Rating: Consider this PG, simply for safety's sake. There is some violence involved and some rather difficult topics at the beginning of the story (much like the stories "Away from Monsters" and "Monsters Return" in my seaQuest universe), but things quickly change in tone from there. Mild language warning, too.

Archiving: Just ask first. I'll probably say yes. :)

Cautionary Advice: (Clearing throat) Be prepared for a hefty dose of "suspension of disbelief." There is a degree of the intentionally ludicrous here. :) But remember . . . I warned you!

Length Advisory: Be prepared for a long haul! Currently, I haven't even set a cap on the number of parts involved . . .

Summary: seaQuest, plus Deep Space Nine, plus Voyager equals . . . lots of fun! Here's the short synopsis: Captain Bridger commands a starship, the Voyager both reaches earth and doesn't, and the Defiant gets sucked into yet another wormhole! Hmmm . . . crazy, isn't it? Well, of course it is . . . this is Sheri writing! :)



Long ago, in a galaxy far, far away (snicker, snicker) . . .











LUCAS: (sprawled on a chair and munching away at some candy) So . . . when do the aliens appear? I want some aliens. Mean, old nasty aliens. Drooling aliens. The bigger, the better.

KRIEG: (hamburger in hand, eyes wide as he bites into the bun . . . simply to find that it's a stage prop made of cardboard. His expression, at the very least, is displeased) Aliens? Just what we need. What with Star Trek's "Alien of the Week" policy, we'll be overloaded with them. (Smiling smugly) Besides, aliens are no fun. You see one, you see them all. But a woman: that's something entirely different . . .

LUCAS: (not responding, merely rolling eyes and munching on another handful of candy)

KRIEG: (his eyes, looking miles away, suddenly widen as Lucas munches into his candy) Hey! How do you rate real food when I get cardboard?

LUCAS: (smiles mischievously with a shrug of the shoulders. Replies as if there is no explanation necessary) You were born Pre-Lucas. That means you get cardboard.

KRIEG: (growls, steals some of Lucas's food) So, SHERI, when do the aliens kidnap this twirp?

SHERI: (considering. The answer is anything but helpful) Some time between Part One and Part Fifty . . .

LUCAS: (stops eating, looks at SHERI with sudden concern) Hey, wait a minute! I thought KRIEG was supposed to get alien-napped!

KRIEG: (gloating over his good luck) Don't worry about it, kid. With your attitude, they'll probably send you back in no time flat!

LUCAS: (throws something at KRIEG, then ponders the aliens he is soon to encounter) I just hope they're not hungry aliens . . .




So . . . will the aliens be hungry? Find out as our heroes battle the enormous obstacles of the Waste Planet . . .






Infinity: A Crossover

Part Six

To Meet an Alien, or Not to Meet an Alien?
That is the Question . . .

















Sitting numbly in the midst of whatever frozen wasteland he and Lucas Wolenczak were now stranded in and would probably perish upon, Ben Krieg simply stared, wondering, at the scene before him. He watched listlessly as the resident teenager stomped around their cave, waving Ben's di-corder haphazardly and chattering away in a nonsensical fashion. It made no sense whatsoever to his chilled mind. But if it amused Lucas, why not let the child play with his newfound toy? Ben felt especially good about this decision, considering that he didn't really know what to do with the confounded thing himself--and he really didn't see any hope of their getting out of this rather nasty situation, anyway. What harm could there be in giving Lucas a bit of a distraction?

He listened as words and numbers floated his way: ". . . 50 millimeter substratum bore, 30 QFI distribution, .9001 cubic interspersion . . . hmmm, about .0000561 off on QFI four . . . I wonder if that would cause a temporal break, though with temporal mechanics anything's possible . . . residual evidence of harmony established . . . patterned anomaly in AFI four, too . . . level .00009951 . . ."**

Finally, even Ben's stubborn refusal to pay attention to whatever scheme Lucas was up to deteriorated. He sighed, looking over at the crazily babbling teenager, his expression one of saintly patience. "All right, Lucas . . . you've got me curious. What on earth are you doing?"

Startled out of wherever galaxy his mind had inhabited, Lucas looked over at Ben with a puzzled expression. His fingers tapped against the di-corder excitedly. "This--thing here seems to somehow be picking up residual traces of dimensional substratum layers . . . Actually, it's pretty cool . . ."

Residual dimensional sub-what layers? Ben wondered. All this from the same kid who said it was "pretty cool"? He shook his head, as if clearing it of spider webs. "It's doing what now?"

Lucas looked at him, then smiled sheepishly. He attempted to clarify the matter: "It's detecting residual harmonic and disjunctive temporal-quantum resonance within the dimensional substratum layers of this plane . . ."

Ben held up his hand with a frustrated sigh. "No, Lucas, wait . . . I don't understand a word you've just said. Could you speak in English, please?"

Lucas blinked. A blush quickly erupted through his light skin. "Sorry. I thought you wanted the technical explanation." He glanced around them quickly, then simply said, "The numbers this little gadget of yours is spouting out seem to indicate a tear in the fabric of space and time, from what I can tell. The temporal signature is off by about one-hundredth of a percent . . . not much, but theoretically enough to create a tear."

Ben stared. Finally, he managed, "Lucas . . . how . . . ? You're fifteen, for heaven's sake! How the hell do you know all this?"

The blush was back in full force. He carefully refused to meet Ben's eyes. "I have a Ph.D. in Quantum and Temporal Mechanics. Right now, I'm working on a project to induce stable and controllable wormholes. I have to know the theories and numbers behind dimensions, behind substratum layers, to understand anything about wormholes."

A Ph.D. in Quantum and Temporal Mechanics? Dear God! Ben shook his head in amazement, perplexity, disbelief--then acceptance. Well, this certainly explained why Lucas might be on the Infinity instead of safely at home in high school. He was a temporal engineer. The Fleet was always looking for new, enterprising temporal engineers--even if they were barely into their teens, it would seem.

The question was simple, though: Could that enterprising young mind get them out of this mess?

As he watched Lucas quickly calculating formulae using a twig and some dirt, the youth's movements quick, determined, practiced, and--above all else--confident, Ben decided that his answer very well might be yes. He stepped over to Lucas's side, watching as the boy ran through the most complex formula Ben had ever seen--and Lucas finished it in the matter of seconds. When Lucas's blue eyes glanced up towards him inquiringly, Ben smiled slightly. "Is there anything I can help with?"

Lucas thought for a moment, then pointed at the di-corder. He waved Ben to his side. "Yeah . . . what is this thing, anyway? Does it do more than dimensional detection?"

"Well . . ." Ben sighed as he sat beside Lucas. "It's a new instrument. We just got them about two weeks ago . . ."

"That would explain why I've never seen one, at least. Actually, I've never even heard of them. Who came up with them? What exactly do they do?"

Ben paused thoughtfully, then frowned. "I'm not sure who came up with them. I don't exactly recall hearing, to tell you the truth. As for what they do . . . they record dimensional activity. Thus, they're called di-corders: dimensional- recorders. Anyway, that's their main function, recording the dimensional activity. However," Ben suddenly grinned, leaning towards Lucas with excitement, "I've also heard that they emit trans-dimensional signals. I'm not sure if this is true or how they do it, but there is that possibility."

"Trans-dimensional signals. Hmm." Lucas paused thoughtfully, looking at the recorder with interest. He fiddled with several controls, then practically jumped as three red buttons started to glow. After eyeing the buttons speculatively, he suddenly started tapping figures and data into the machine. Ben watched, suddenly nervous, as purple lights began to glow right beside the red. Lucas didn't seem to worry over the new lights, though, so Ben simply shut his mouth and watched with increasing interest.

Several minutes of tapping and cursing later, Lucas set the di-corder aside. He glanced over at Ben, who was startled to notice the sheen of perspiration on the teen's face. Ben watched, concerned, as Lucas ran a shaking hand through his golden hair and across his face. He suddenly seemed to notice Ben's worried eyes. "It's okay . . . I just get a little nervous when I'm dabbling with changing physics at the temporal levels."

Ben could easily see why that would be a bit nerve-wracking.

"But . . ." Lucas inhaled sharply, then shut his eyes. "Unless I've made some seriously wrong calculations, we should be okay."

Ben simply stared at this. Calculations?

Seeing Ben's blank stare, Lucas carefully explained, "I've set the di-corder to signal our position to what should be normal time and space for the Infinity. With luck, they should receive it."

Ben listened, wondering why he had a sudden tightness in his belly. Why did something seem not quite as simple as Lucas seemed to imply?

Lucas suddenly met his eyes, his own expression quite tense. After a second, he quietly said, "Remember the crash you told me about earlier, Ben?" Ben simply nodded. "Well, if I'm wrong, your crash will seem the lesser of the terrible mistakes made by either of us. You see, the Infinity will transport us through the dimensional tear using the calculations I give them. If any of my calculations are off by even a decameter, our atoms will be defused throughout thattemporal- spatial tear."

Ah . . . now the shoe fell.

Lucas watched him anxiously, then said, "I haven't sent the numbers yet, Ben. I won't until you say I should. I don't want to play with your life without your permission."

Ben nodded, squeezing Lucas's shoulder in reassurance. He suddenly felt old, tired. If he were any judge, their only real chance was Lucas's idea. It was far too cold here, and there was always the matter of the strange howls they kept hearing from time to time--howls that weren't anything Ben wanted to come closer to. They wouldn't long survive here; he'd been reconciled to the probability of their deaths long before Lucas had even seized on the idea of a message between dimensions.

Gently, he again squeezed Lucas's shoulder. "Go ahead, Lucas. I don't think we have any other choice, anyway. And if it doesn't work, it doesn't work."

As if to emphasize the peril of their current position, the mysterious yowls suddenly rang through their cave. Ben started at the sound, looking around them with frightened eyes; the cries seemed to be in the cave. He shivered. Trying to seem casual about his movements, Ben soundlessly placed his own body in front of Lucas's, shielding the boy from harm.

After glancing worriedly towards the howls, Lucas nodded. He breathed deeply, then--with some trepidation--flipped on one last button and entered one final sequence of numbers into the dimensional recorder. As the last number was entered, the button glowed orange, then red, then white.

A roar, a cry that sent Ben's heart into his throat suddenly erupted next to their ears. Ben's eye watched, horrified, as an orange glow flickered inside the cave wall nearest Lucas.

A gray claw reached out, followed split seconds by another, then another. The rock had somehow come alive.





*****















** This is where I get to speak "Jordi-ese" (sorry, not sure of the spelling there . . .), defined as a string of nonsensical polysyllables supposedly resembling scientific-engineering-whatever jargon. :)