Legal Disclaimer: Any characters or events that seem to mimic real life are purely coincidental . . . and, hey, if there is anyone meeting nasty gray aliens with claws, I want to talk to them! hee, hee>
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: PG-13. (PG for "Pretty Galling"!) Actually, it is PG-13 because of some violence and bad language (not overly strong, though).
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) . . .
Four Characters in Search of a Story:
A "Slight" Revision of the Original*
[SCENE: Mos Eisley Space Port. Strange aliens hanging around everywhere, drinking, reveling, and generally having an obnoxiously good time. In the corner sits SHERI, who has, miraculously, looked up from her keyboard to find herself transported in time and place from 20th century Anchorage, Alaska, to . . . well, here.]
[Entree FOUR CHARACTERS IN SEARCH OF A STORY. They gaze quickly around the bar, then hone in on SHERI; immediately, they march towards her cubicle.]
LUKE SKYWALKER: (dressed as he originally was in Star Wars--desert clothing, hair hanging in his face . . . kind of like a Tatooine-born Lucas Wolenczak. Nervous shifting of feet) Hey, word around town is that you're writing a story. We were thinking . . . that is, we were wondering . . . (thinks for a moment. Wonders exactly how BEN KENOBI did this originally) Uh . . . we need a . . . err . . .
HAN SOLO: (shakes head, then leans in towards me, grinning like--well, like a scoundrel, of course) What the kid is trying to say not so well is that we're lookin' for a story. We hear you're writin' one. Interested?
SHERI: (still staring, trying to make this strange scene disappear from her computer) Looking . . . you say you're looking for a story? (Nonplussed) How can you be looking for a story? You're already in one . . .
PRINCESS LEIA: (looks knowingly at LUKE and HAN) Hey, Neanderthal-brains, I told you she wouldn't get it, didn't I? (LUKE and HAN roll eyes)
HAN SOLO: (aside) Knew I should have left Her Royal Perfectness in her cell . . .
PRINCESS LEIA: (pretending to ignore one of the said Neanderthal-brains as she jabs him in the ribs) It's like this. We're characters. We need a plot . . .
SHERI: (shakes head) But . . . you already have a plot. You're only the most famous characters since . . . gees, since Noah!
LUKE SKYWALKER: That was until . . . (looks around, cringes) Phantom Menace. Now everyone's talking about Obi and Qui--never about us anymore!
DARTH VADER: (one hand hooked into his belt, the other caressing his lightsaber. His black mask is implacable as I continue to stare stupidly at him and his companions. His words are spoken in a deep, carefully controlled voice) You, writer, have a plot. We must have that plot. (Leans in threateningly) Now would be a good time to reconsider . . .
LUKE SKYWALKER: Hey, Darth . . . (leans in towards VADER and whispers) You're supposed to be on the good side now, remember?
DARTH VADER: (hissing) Read the script, Skywalker! This scene predates Return of the Jedi. (Turns back to me) I wouldn't want to teach you a lesson, now, would I?
SHERI: (swallows hard, remembering the rather fast rate of promotion on Empire ships**)
HAN SOLO: (trying to recreate any spirit of cooperation that may have been lost with VADER's words) Hey, look on the bright side . . . we're fully developed, rounded characters. We have histories prefabricated for your convenience. We even come equipped with the Millenium Falcon. What more could you ask for?
SHERI: (considers their words, then shakes head) But this is a seaQuest, Voyager, and Deep Space Nine crossover. There's no Star Wars here. Look . . . (picks up script) Do you see your names written anywhere here?
DARTH VADER: (pushing forward, pulls out lightsaber and leans in towards me. His right fist is lifted to emphasize his words) But you don't know the power of the Dark Side of the Force. Join me, and together we will rule the Galaxy as Character and Author . . . (stops, reconsiders--this is a bad plan for his royalties. He changes tactics) Resistance is Futile. You will be assimilated . . .
[At this point, SHERI, HAN SOLO, LUKE SKYWALKER, and PRINCESS LEIA all stare at DARTH VADER like he's lost his mind somewhere within that mask of his.]
PRINCESS LEIA: (nudges DARTH VADER) Hey, Bucket-Head, you're reading from the wrong script . . .
DARTH VADER: (again leaning towards me) I could make the perfect ELF agent!***
PRINCESS LEIA: (rudely interrupting as she fixes one of her cinnamon bun hair rolls) Oh, great! Now he's confusing Star Wars with Christmas!
DARTH VADER: (ignores her) I could torture LUCAS WOLENCZAK with style, with finesse . . .
LUCAS WOLENCZAK: (voice heard from offstage) Hey . . . wait a second here! Who said anything about DARTH VADER torturing me?! (Beats on the wall) It's not in the contract, SHERI!
[As various characters start arguing at the same time, SHERI decides she really needs a drink around now . . . then, reconsidering, decides the last thing she really needs right now is a drink! Instead, she shuts her portable computer down, hoping the characters will just simply . . . disappear. However, this hope quickly fades: they're still standing in front of her.]
LUCAS WOLENCZAK: (voice again heard from offstage) All right, already! Could you start the show? (Grumbles to self) Gees, SHERI, I've been left at the hands of wicked aliens for more than a week now . . .
[SHERI, sighing, relents and begins the story . . . well, the other story not involving VADER et al.]
And with that, let us return to our hero, who now thinks he
is part of Alice in Wonderland . . .
Infinity: A Crossover
Part Ten
How Lucas Became a Member of the Alien Chain Gang on the Esteemed Planet of Ice in the Much Esteemed Company
Of Chief Miles O'Brien, and What
They Talked About . . .****
Lucas didn't like the way things were going--at all. His two alien escorts were steadily leading him deeper and deeper into the ground. As they continued to march downwards, Lucas saw that the level of light was decreasing. While the areas above had strange, glowing green lights that lit the dark path, down here . . . there was almost nothing.
It was also becoming increasingly cold. Lucas shivered, wishing he'd had a jacket or a sweater--or something--when this whole mess began. He could only hope that Ben, his companion for several hours before Lucas's own abduction, had managed to escape. If not, Lucas feared the lieutenant might be a frozen corpse by now.
He shuddered at the idea, a multitude of depressing images wandering through his mind. As he imagined himself being gobbled alive by hungry aliens while Ben Krieg slowly transformed into a Popsicle in the frozen wastelands of this planet, Lucas simply wished he knew . . . well, how to do anything he needed to do to escape his current predicament. He didn't have a weapon; however, Lucas was fairly certain he might shoot himself in the foot rather than an alien, for he'd never handled a phaser in his life. His father had never allowed him near one, saying that only adults should possess weapons to defend themselves. Trekking behind the leathery backs of his captors, Lucas silently snorted over this idea: yeah, like he'd ever had to defend himself against anyone other than his own father, the man who'd declared himself the perfect holder of phasers and firepower. Wasn't life all too ironic sometimes?
Lucas forced his mind back to the problem at hand, mentally eyeing the area for escape routes, for anything that might help him flee this . . . place. And fleeing was the best option. Without question, Lucas knew--somehow knew--that he needed to get away from these twisted paths, from this seemingly endless cavern with tunnels meandering into nowhere, as soon as possible. This place was dangerous. Lucas brushed his hands unconsciously against the back of his arms, then was startled to discover every hair was standing straight on end. He pushed back the sudden fear, the sudden panic, that tore through his mind; no, he couldn't afford to slip into a panic attack. He couldn't afford to lose what little control of his life he now possessed. That fragile control might very well mean the difference between life and death, for him--or even for Ben.
They continued on. Lucas silently followed his escort, his mind still racing. No, he didn't have the weapons he needed to fight these creatures off . . . whatever their intentions might be. At this point, he couldn't even begin to imagine what they wanted with him. For a moment, when he'd opened his eyes and looked at the black-robed creature in the strange room with gray slabs, Lucas had thought that he might have some hope. The creature hadn't looked at him with hate or malice, just with curiosity and concern.
However, these two creatures were an entirely different matter. Lucas had detected nothing in their eyes: no emotions, no thoughts . . . nothing. This frightened him more than seeing pure hate seething in those black orbs. At least that way, he'd know what he was up against. But with this . . . Lucas had no idea what these beings thought. And since they were his current holders, he also had no idea what they might do with him.
He suddenly felt a jab in his right shoulder, then looked up to see one of his escorts waving him to a dark tunnel slithering to his right. Lucas swallowed hard, then entered the tunnel, wishing he could see where he was going. The only thing that kept him from running into the walls was the small light globe held by one of his guards. The globe was a sort of purple color. As Lucas looked at it, his scientist's mind warring with his survivalist instincts, Lucas wondered how on earth the light managed to work. It simply looked like a circle of light hovering over a black bar, with several inches worth of empty air between the bar and the globe of light. Hmmm . . . how could the energy for the light travel . . .
Again, Lucas was pushed forward as his mind wandered from the scene around him. He blinked, then tried to focus all his attention to his surroundings. He found this not overly difficult, for the creatures kept--looking at him. The looks were frightening, too, for, again, Lucas couldn't interpret them. He couldn't understand them. They were beyond his comprehension, alien expressions and gestures untranslatable in his human context. The only gesture that had translated into perfect Federation Standard was the shove the beings gave him now and then when he managed to drift off their prescribed route.
*****
What seemed an hour's worth of time (but may actually have been only minutes) later, Lucas found himself being pulled by his hair. Flinching, he held back a furious curse of frustration as he was hauled straight from the tunnel past some door on the side of the tunnel. Tears brimmed in his eyes as the alien continued to pull him forward, his hair ruthlessly bound to the creature's claws.
Something swished open, only to close with a jarring thump. He then felt himself thrown bodily into a hole. With no warning, Lucas tumbled down a long pathway of broken ground, almost like a slide made of sharp rock. Pain jolted through his body as he continued to tumble. As the reckless journey downwards continued, Lucas felt rocks tear into his skin; his bones ached cruelly as one bone after the other struck against hard, unforgiving, unyielding rock.
With a surprised grunt, Lucas landed on the ground, limbs sprawled helplessly in every direction, much like a broken tree. He lay huddled on the ground, trying to catch his breath . . . simply lying there for several seconds.
Breathe in, breathe out, he silently coached himself. In, out. In, out. See? No trick to it. After several seconds of mental training, Lucas swallowed hard; he had to move sooner or later. He'd prefer sooner rather than later. So . . . carefully, he tried moving his arms, only to wince in sharp pain. Oh, God, that hurt. That hurt!
He closed his eyes. Relaxation, calmness: that's what he needed right now.
Unfortunately, those very two qualities seemed about the last two things Lucas could obtain right now.
Slowly, he tried moving his other arm. It wasn't quite as bad . . . just a twinge or two of pain.
That was a good sign. Lucas sighed, hoping to the heavens that the rest of his body might be in a similar condition.
Okay, it was time to move the leg now. Again, Lucas swallowed hard, then began to move his right leg . . . not too bad yet. Good . . . just a bit more . . .
Then he heard a noise behind him; all thoughts of simple pain fled. He whirled around, blue eyes wide against pale skin.
"Hi, there," a voice whispered on the right side of his elbow. Lucas could see what looked like a golden uniform almost entirely submerged in the darkness. A vague hint of light traced down from some unseen location; Lucas supposed the light could actually be coming from the hole he'd been thrown into, but he couldn't be entirely sure.
Lucas stared, then blinked, trying to assure himself this man was truly there. He sure seemed real enough. As the figure approached him, Lucas continued to stare. His thoughts became increasingly skeptical. This was all a part of his imagination. It simply wasn't happening. How could there be another Starfleet officer stuck in the same position as he was?
Like it or not, though, the man was truly there--and he was also, quite obviously, Starfleet.
The man knelt at Lucas's side, looking at him with large, concerned eyes. Lucas stared at the man, vaguely noticing the orange curly hair and hazel eyes. Who the hell was this? Another shipmate from the Infinity? If so, Lucas was beginning to think the Infinity was the voyage of the damned on a one-way trip to hell itself.
"I'm Miles O'Brien," the man stated, leaning in towards Lucas and lowering his voice. He glanced around them, clearly suspecting aliens were lurking in the background. "I'm Chief Engineer on Deep Space Nine. Who're you? Are you all right?"
"Uh . . . Lucas Wolenczak. And . . .yeah, I guess I'm still in one piece," Lucas whispered. He glanced up towards the ceiling, then back at the Chief. "I just was . . . pushed through some hole in the roof. I fell into this place . . . wherever it is." Lucas blinked, then shook his head. He was beginning to wonder if he was in Alice in Wonderland or something. Falling through holes, people appearing out of nowhere, aliens . . . well, Lewis Carroll might not have had aliens, but it was close enough for Lucas's judgment. He frowned, his brow furrowing. "Do you know where we are?"
O'Brien sighed, sitting beside Lucas and shaking his head. He looked back at Lucas. "No idea. I was hoping you might know." The Chief shrugged.
Silence passed between them. They stared at one another. Finally, Lucas managed, "How . . . how long have you been here? I mean, in this . . . cave?"
For a moment, O'Brien left the question unanswered. He sighed. "Longer than I'd care to count." He drew a few random lines in the dirt, then looked back at Lucas. "Probably about a week or so. I was transporting to a planet near DS9, when . . . I arrived on this planet instead . . ."
Lucas's eyes widened. "Yeah, same thing here." He paused, suddenly nervous. There was a definite trend here--and one he didn't like in the least bit. "What happened next?"
"Well, probably like you, I got caught by . . . these creatures. I was walking around near a cave, and bang, out of nowhere, these creatures just . . . my honor on it . . . they melted out of the stinkin' cave walls!" O'Brien shook his head, looking to Lucas to see if the boy thought he'd lost his mind.
But Lucas only shook his head. "Yeah, I saw that, too. Weirdest thing I've ever seen."
After a relieved sigh, O'Brien continued, "Well . . . next I knew, I was being dragged--rather unwillingly, I might add--through these dark tunnels. Lord only knows where we are now. Anyway, they tossed me in here, and . . . here I am."
Lucas silently pondered O'Brien's words, watching as the man pushed dirty hands through his hair. He finally sighed, getting O'Brien's attention once more. He cleared his throat. "Do you . . . do you know why we're here? I mean . . . what have they . . . done to you since you've been here?"
At Lucas's question, O'Brien paled.
Lucas steeled himself for the worst.
"Lucas, have you ever heard of the Chain Gangs that used to be normal practice on earth?"
Oh, hell, it was worse than he thought. Lucas nodded, shivering as he did so.
"Well, my boy, we're part of one now. Like it or not." O'Brien shook his head, irritation obvious in the tightness of his shoulders. He glared at one of the walls. "They've been coming in about once a Standard day, marching me off to some . . . place in the middle of nowhere. While there, I work: non-stop. There are others there--humans, a few Klingons, a few species I've never seen, even some Cardies . . ." O'Brien sneered the last word, his lip twisting up slightly. Lucas didn't need to consult his imagination to see that O'Brien didn't like Cardassians. "Anyhow, we work until they gesture for us to stop. If we don't, we get clobbered over the head, or . . . scraped along the vein with one of their claws."
Lucas shivered from a chill completely unassociated with the cold. He remembered that claw all too well; it'd hurt like hell. Lucas figured it was a remarkable capture device, for he'd been incapable of moving for a long stretch of time; he imagined it was just as potent a discipline tool.
Softly, he asked, "Why are they using us?" As O'Brien stared at him, not understanding his question, Lucas simply shook his head. He tried again. "I mean, why us? Why take the time to . . . kidnap . . . us? It seems like a lot of work for a helping hand."
O'Brien silently stared at him; finally, he looked away, the silence stretching Lucas's already taut nerves almost beyond endurance. His voice was hushed when he at last replied, "Because we're expendable, Lucas. Expendable."
Hearing this, Lucas stared at his new companion, then shut his eyes.
Expendability certainly didn't bode well for their future.
He wondered, briefly, how long it took a prisoner to move from expendable to dead.
*****
* This is a blatant rip-off of Luigi Pirandello's Six Characters in Search of an Author, a dramatic work written and first performed in 1921. It is classified as "Theater of the Absurd" for obvious reasons! :)
** The promotion rate on Empire ships has been statistically quite good: if you join, you have an almost 80% chance of reaching officer status. Of course, the negative side to this is that if you make officer status, you also have an approximately 80% chance of being strangled to death by Vader in one of his more angry moods!
*** What's an ELF? If the term is new to you (and if you see Christmas elves dancing around Darth Vader), then allow me to explain: ELF equals Evil Lucas Fan. For a "formal treatise" *snicker, snicker*> upon ELFdom and ELFing *grin*>, I'd recommend a thorough perusal of "A Brief and Inaccurate History of the ELFs" (Dagger Apprentice, 1999).
**** This is another shameless literary rip-off, this time from the chapter introductions in Voltaire's Candide. Sorry, couldn't help myself!