Disclaimer: Earth: Final Conflict is not my property; if it were, the last four seasons would never have happened. This story is completely fictional, and may contradict events witnessed on screen, but no more so than your average episode these days does anyway. No profit is made through this publication by the author, and all characters whom he did not create are someone else's intellectual property. Incidentally, Boone was the coolest guy ever, and the Mothership looked cooler when you couldn't see through it. All your base are belong to us.

Notes: This story takes place between the third season episodes Once And Future World and Thicker Than Blood. The author wrote this during late Season 3 and early Season 4, so any information revealed late in Season 4 or during Season 5 is not included. It made sense when I wrote it.


Taelon Moonbase
Thursday, 17:26 EST

The Taelon Moonbase sprawled almost completely across the dark side of the Earth's moon. At the moment, obscured from both the sun and the Earth, the only sight visible outside the wall of virtual glass lining the massive concourse was the dance of flitting energy discharges running along the contours of the Moonbase and, above that, the steady light of the stars.

Ri'im, however, was more interested in the middle-aged, dark-skinned human who walked beside him. Doctor Aman Lubata, the first human scientist to be assigned to the Moonbase, was a fascinating individual. Ri'im was continually surprised by the diversity exhibited by this species, not just physically, but in terms of spirit. He often wondered how such a disorganized species could even function, much less achieve such a high level of technology. At the moment, Lebata was rattling off the advanced principles of interdimensional travel, which had taken himself decades to learn.

Quick to acquire knowledge. Necessary; minute life span. Possibly linked to substandard memory retention?

Speculation. Irrelevant.

...But I think we're on the right track with the nexus buildings, Lubata was saying. We simply must be sure that the junctions can handle the possibility of multiple slipstreams passing through twenty-four hours a day. If the system ever malfunctions, we should also be able to reroute any active streams to one of the other junctions to prevent loss.

Considerable expenditure of resources. This is a most innovative concept, Ri'im mused. Wasteful. Excessively redundant. But interdimensional travel is most safe. I believe that these precautions are an unnecessary expenditure of time and resources.

Lubata said. But humans have an expression: Better safe than sorry.'

Cultural, societal idiosyncrasy. Generalization; deduction from philosophy. Ri'im inclined his head, attempting to mimic the human gesture of agreement. Imitation. Necessary?

Helpful. "A fascinating sentiment, if I interpret these words correctly. Very well. If you believe these...precautions to be necessary."

"I know for a fact that our sponsors will," Lubata assured. "American businessmen will not support anything unless they are sure it will succeed. And that they will profit from it."

Fascinating.

The two reached their destination, an interdimensional portal at the end of the concourse. For a moment, Ri'im sensed an intruding presence by the portal. Hostile? Danger?

Inconsequential. "I hope that, through this venture, all parties concerned may reach our goals," he said, extending his hand in the standard Taelon farewell gesture.

"I don't doubt it." Mimicking the gesture, Lubata stepped into the portal. As human interfaces had not yet been installed, Ri'im commanded the device to send the scientist back to Earth. It immediately began to whine, and a pair of ethereal circles appeared at either end of the device.

But it quickly became apparent that something was wrong. As the circle at the "front" of the portal slid backwards to its midpoint, it appeared to smear rather than remain definite, both rings shone more brightly than usual, and the whine increased drastically in pitch. Alarmed, Ri'im signaled the portal to deactivate, but it was too late. The second ring shot forward to meet the first, and the collision produced a blinding light that washed over the Taelon. He barely had time to issue a psychic cry of surprise before he ascended to the next plane as his body was vaporized by the explosion.


When he arrived, he found the concourse a scene of total destruction. The virtual glass had regenerated itself, but the floor was sagging by several feet towards the end, and the portal—what was left of it—resembled a quartet of burned-down trees. The walls and floor were blackened and dead for several hundred yards, and he doubted anything would be regenerating soon. That was fine with him.

Walking up to the remains of the portal, he knelt down in the center of the passenger area. Reaching into the pocket of his pocket, he placed a single pale flower on the floor of the device. Standing, he stared for a moment at the destruction caused, then strode back the way he had come.