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 (err . . . sorry, wrong story) . . .
SCENE: (Behind the curtains, offstage right. SHERI paces back and forth, back and forth, glaring at watch)
IN hussles BEN KRIEG . . . Hamburger juice can be spotted on his wrinkled uniform.
SHERI: (Tapping watch) You're LATE, Krieg!
KRIEG: (Wiping highly suspicious hamburger juice from chin) I know, I know . . . I just had some . . . uh . . . important business to finish. (Aside: mumbles under breath) Bridger isn't eating my hamburger AGAIN, I tell you . . .
SHERI: (Looking at clipboard that mysteriously materializes out of the thin air) You were due on stage at least ten minutes ago! Lucas is wandering around even now . . .
LUCAS: (Voice heard from on stage) Hey, anyone here . . . *hint, hint* . . . I *said,* anyone here?
SHERI: See? He's waiting on you to save the day! (Aside) Like that'll happen . . .
KRIEG: (Hurt puppy dog expression) I heard that! (Calls out to stage as Lucas continues mumbling something about morale officers getting their rear ends kicked) I'm coming, I'm coming . . . gees . . . you'd think finishing a hamburger around here was a state crime or something . . .
SHERI: (Pushing Krieg out onto stage and watching as he blinks in surprise) Go get those bad alien dudes, Krieg! Besides, they're hungry: you'd better hurry out of there quickly . . .
KRIEG: (Look of horrified comprehension crosses face) Hungry aliens . . . ah . . . Sheri, could we possibly talk about this . . . It wasn't in the contract . . .
I disappear in a puff of smoke, leaving our poor heroes wandering the stage alone . . .
Infinity: A Crossover
Part Four
Life in an Alien Wasteland
As Lucas wondered where the hell he was, it suddenly occurred to him that, no, perhaps he was in hell . . .
Staring around himself, Lucas clapped a hand over his mouth as his teeth began to chatter. Every hair on the back of his neck stood on edge. Again, he gazed at the scene around him . . . what he could see of it, at least. Blackness stretched every direction the eye could travel.
Lucas blinked quickly, then stared: no, he hadn't been imagining things. There was an eerie, almost green tinge to the air. It seemed a mirage. First, he saw nothing but darkness; then, suddenly, there was a glow drifting through the night sky, something like a green haze. The haze seemed to dance, whirling a crazy, chaotic course across the sky.
As he stared, Lucas realized he was hearing something: almost a buzz. He shook his head, trying to dispel the buzz from his ear. But the odd noise remained. The noise seemed to be coming from the green light, but he couldn't be certain. It could be something like the Northern Lights on earth: brilliant, vivid colors that streamed across the arctic sky on clear nights. He knew they were rumored to hum close to the Arctic Circle.
But it could also be just about anything else: his ears playing tricks on him, some environmental variable, aliens gathering to come eat him alive . . .
Something moved near him. Lucas quickly bolted away, rolling to the ground and ducking beneath what looked like a rock . . . no, a boulder, or several of them. His fingers closed on cold stone; it felt frozen, sharp to his touch. He shivered, wondering again where—where—he could be.
A noise sounded next to him. He heard another rustle in the dark, and he felt fear clawing its way up his throat.
And then he felt a thud on his shoulder; with a jump, he looked up, alarm striking through his eyes, into a pair of onyx gems. No, into brown eyes. They just seemed like onyx in this strange, almost-no-light-glow. The hand gripping his shoulder was pale, lightly boned, human.
"I'm Ben," came a whisper. They exchanged quick stares, then nods. Lucas tried to make some sense of where he was, why he was there, but nothing was making any sense. He supposed this man's simply materializing out of nowhere made no less sense than any of the rest of it. "Ben Krieg. Lieutenant. Morale and Supply Officer." The voice drifted, and Lucas simply continued to stare at the man, not knowing what to say . . . or even if he was entirely real. As of yet, Lucas hadn't been able to convince himself any of this was real.
Maybe this was all a bad dream . . . yeah, a really, obnoxiously bad dream.
Krieg—or Ben—looked carefully at him, then suddenly widened his eyes. Lucas sighed. So what if the lieutenant was a little slow on the uptake? Krieg had still noticed the obvious. He'd seen he was a kid. He'd probably tell him to get lost or something.
Krieg cleared his throat, then pinned Lucas with eyes that refused to let him look away. "How did you get here? And who are you?"
Lucas swallowed hard, wondering what he should do. Should he answer the question? Should he try running? Should he pray to God that this was not truly happening? Should he try screaming at the top of his lungs?
On second thought, perhaps screaming at the top of his lungs wasn't the wisest of choices. He glanced at the frozen wasteland surrounding him: no, screaming was out of the question.
Several minutes passed in silence, and Lucas looked over at his unexpected companion, suddenly realizing that the man hadn't pressured him. For some reason, that made him slightly more comfortable—as if Krieg might actually be who he said he was and as if Krieg could actually explain what the hell was happening. He sure hoped this was the case, for Lucas only knew he certainly couldn't explain anything himself.
Lucas inhaled softly, then sighed. "I—I was waiting to be transported from the shuttle Delphi to the Infinity. I waited, and a shimmer suddenly surrounded me . . ." Lucas's voice drifted, then he shook his head. His brow furrowed. "And then I ended up here . . . wherever here is."
"Umm." The noncommittal grunt made Lucas turn towards the man. Krieg was watching him with keen, piercing eyes. "And who did you say you were?"
Lucas could feel extra pressure being placed on his shoulder. He stared at Krieg, wondering what could have caused such a strange reaction to his statement. Then he realized the problem: he'd omitted his name. Nervously, he cleared his throat. "Uhm—I'm Lucas Wolenczak . . ."
Lucas saw a flash of brown, angry eyes as he spoke his last name. Muscles tensed in the man beside him, but then—finally—the hand tightly clamping into his shoulder suddenly released its hold. Krieg met his eyes. "Wolenczak? Are you . . .?"
Ha! At least one thing in this demented, lunatic world fell in line with normal experience: the reaction to his last name. Since he knew the question without needing to hear it, Lucas gruffly replied, "Yeah, that's me . . . the good old Admiral's son." With that, he glanced away from the man's eyes—they were again keen, piercing, almost too sharp to the sight—and around them. He looked back at Krieg. "Where are we? Do you know?"
"Haven't the foggiest."
Lucas rolled his eyes at Krieg's reply. Just great. Fantastic. Marvelous, in fact! Not only was he stuck out in the middle of some godforsaken wasteland, but he was also stuck there with someone whose only response to the situation was, "Haven't the foggiest."
Krieg sighed, looking around, before turning back to his companion. "Did you see or hear anything unusual before the transport? Anything at all?"
"I've never been in a transport, Krieg. Everything seemed unusual to me," Lucas explained with exaggerated patience. He paused, then hazarded a guess: "I take it we're not where we're supposed to be, and you have no idea why we're here?"
A blink, then a slow grin. Krieg ran a hand through his hair. "Yeah, that's putting it pretty well, Lucas." He sighed. "We're lost. I have no clue where we are, but we're certainly lost."
"How long were you here before I arrived?" Lucas asked hesitantly, quickly seeing that they were in a bind—and if he wanted to see the insides of that damned ship, which at this point sure looked a hell of a lot better than this no-man's-land, they'd better get out of this mess. Whatever this mess might be. The same instinct that reliably told him to duck when something was about to explode in the lab was telling him right now—in a loud, shrill call—that he'd better get his skin out of here as quickly as possible if he wanted skin remaining on his bones.
"Hmm . . . about four or five minutes, tops. Perhaps less than that, depending on how long it took me to realize you were here." He turned to look at Lucas, then suddenly seemed to make a decision. "We need to find shelter of some sort. I want you right at my elbow. Don't even think of disappearing. Stay right at my side, okay? Losing one another could get us killed in this place—wherever 'this place' is."
After a moment's hesitation, Lucas nodded, wondering if the lieutenant was overreacting—even as his heart told him for sure that he wasn't.