A carpeted floor. That is the first thing both Chen and Mary feel under their feet. The TARDIS floor doesn't have carpets, so this must mean that they are somewhere else. They both sigh, relieved.
Their relief does not last long, as they hear a sharp click.
"Did you hear that, too?" Mary asks her husband.
He nods, and turns around.
On the side of Zordon's tube, there is one mechanical bug left.
Chen raises his hands, ready for combat, and the Replicator responds in kind by jumping.
Barely has it lifted off one centimeter, or it falls down already, splitting apart.
Squinting his eyes at what he just saw, Chen takes a closer look.
The Replicator did not just fall apart. It looked more like each individual component of the machine is torn apart. What was once a functional machine, is now a heap of dust.
Zordon, turning his head to look, notices the same heap. "Looks like it worked. With Reese destroyed, so are the Replicators."
"Pardon me," an old man's voice suddenly rings through the area.
Both Chen and Mary shift their heads, to find out where that came from.
This is the first time they got a chance to look at where they had arrived. There is one huge screen, which is off now. There are two computer desks in front of that screen, but one huge computer covering the wall behind them. Surrounding them are people, wearing the same clothes. Half of them wear yellow, the other wears red, and only one of them wears blue. All of them were staring at the newcomers. They all have a badge at the left side of their chest. Among these people, there is one who has yellow, plastic skin. Another with dark skin, and a golden visor. The one in blue is a woman with dark eyes. That woman sits in a chair. One of three in the middle of the room. The middle chair is empty, as the old man who sat in it is standing up.
"What is the meaning of this?" the old man speaks again.
"Jean-Luc," Zordon speaks. "A pleasure to see you again."
The old man, apparently named Jean-Luc, smiles. "Zordon. So you finally decided to use the emergency transporter we provided you with."
"I have, indeed," Zordon replies.
"Then I take it that the universal conflicts have gone from appalling to worse," the old man says.
"Excuse me," Mary interjects. "Who are you? And where are we?"
"Ah, forgive me," the old man replies. "I assume all of this is new to you. I am Jean-Luc Picard, captain of the Federation's Universal Starship Enterprise."
"And why are we here?" Chen asks.
"It's what the transporter is programmed to do," Alpha explains. "In case of an emergency, it transports us to a friendly vessel."
"But instead it brought us to a Federation ship," Mary complains.
This makes every crew member exchange worried looks.
"You're enemies to the Federation, then?" the younger, bearded man who sits next to Picard speaks.
"More like the other way around," Chen replies.
"I fear," Zordon interrupts, "there is a lot to discuss. Can we talk in your conference room?"
Picard nods. "Of course. Number One, escort our guests."
"I'd love to, Captain," the bearded man says, "But how are we supposed to carry the large head?"
Picard turns to the man with plastic skin. "Data, can you transport Zordon to the conference room?"
"Yes, Captain," is the reply from one called Data.
Picard takes one look at Chen, then adds to Number One's list of orders. "And ask Dr. Crusher if she would like join as well."

In the conference room, Picard sits at the table, joined by a large humanoid, one whose forehead has its own rib-cage, wearing a sash over his yellow shirt. Data was there as well, joined by a woman in a blue coat, who is examining Chen, with great protest of Mary. Both women being doctors, they argue over what is and is not best for the man, who ends up sitting at the table, just so he won't have to be part of their discussion.
At the opposite end of the room, stands Zordon's tube, which is still attended to by Alpha.
Hours pass by to explain what brought them to the Enterprise. Partly because every time someone mentions the word "replicator", Picard and associates think of something else.
"One thing I still don't understand," Chen wonders, "is why we were told that Reese could end the wars."
"It was probably the Replicators' logic," Zordon reasons, "that if they had made more of themselves, they would have formed a large enough army to conquer it all. But their lives still depended on her. So it was in their best interests she survived."
"Creating one near omnipotent force that controls the universe," there is a sense of distaste when Picard said this.
Mary snickers. "Because the Federation would neeeeever do that."
Trying to avoid an argument, the other doctor in the room asks a question. "Then why did her captors not just kill her, and be done with it?"
"Yes," the big man growls. "It is the sort of dishonorable act that this Empire is capable of."
"Perhaps the Empire believed they could control these mechanical insects through her," Data deduces.
"Whatever the case," Zordon continues, "with her gone, so is the threat of the Replicators."
Picard blinks his eyes, still having to adjust to Zordon's meaning of the word. He shakes his head, and adds to this. "The fruits of your labors have certainly been felt throughout the universe."
"What do you mean?" Chen asks.
"We have received reports of the Judoon, the Peacekeepers and the Galactic Forces attacking planets from each others' territories," Picard explains.
"And I have intercepted a communication from the Goa'uld system lord Apophis," Data says. "He's laid claim on a new planet, which has lost its rulers."
"So instead of the two killing each other, one has won over the other," Mary realizes.
"There have also been unconfirmed reports that Apophis is now in control of Anubis' Kull Warriors," Data adds.
"And I have read doctor reports from people who say they have been attacked by Cylons," the doctor brings up. "Except their wounds are consistent with those sustained by Borg- and Cybermen- weapons."
"Thank you, Doctor Crusher," Picard replies.
"So in other words," Zordon summarizes this, "everything we have done has only exacerbated the situation."
"It appears so," Picard acknowledges. "If I wasn't a philanthropist, I would almost wish to simply end it all."
"Maybe it should," Chen remarks.
All heads are raised, and looking in Chen's direction.
"Or maybe," Mary suggests, "we should, at least, let people believe we are going to end it all. Just give them a reason to stop all the fighting, force them to talk it out. Give us a reason not to wipe them all out."
"Appalling," Picard says. "Nobody should have such power."
Mary stifles a laugh.
"We may not have a choice," Zordon reasons. "We were already on our last resort."
"Even if I agreed to this," Picard questions, "what do you plan to do?"
"I may know something," Mary says. "I have heard of one doomsday weapon, that was made during an earlier war. If we can get our hands on that, maybe that should give people enough of an incentive."
"Captain," the big man growls, "are we seriously considering such methods?"
"May I remind you," Data starts, "that if we do, it makes us accomplices to genocide?"
"That is only if we use the weapon," Chen replies. "Right?"
"Following the letter of the law, yes," Data answers.
"Which you might have to do," the big man reminds them. "Captain,..."
"Yes, mister Worf," Picard interrupts him. "I'm aware of what this might mean. Both to the reputation of the Federation..."
"What little that was ever worth," Mary mumbles.
"And to our own personal moral code," Picard continues, ignoring what Mary just said.
"If nothing else," Zordon realizes, "by getting our hands on this doomsday weapon, we'll be preventing others from using it."
"But what will keep YOU from using it." Crusher did not ask this.
"I will," Zordon answers her. "You have my word."
Picard sighs. "If we cannot trust Zordon, who can we trust."
"Captain..." Worf sounds insistent. "You can take it from me, a member of a warrior race. Whoever possesses a weapon, any weapon, has to one day use it."
Mary grins. "Well, you may have your wish."
All turn their eyes to her.
"The weapon in question is on Earth."
Apart from Chen, all are taken aback at the sound of that name.
"It would be near impossible for us to retrieve, anyway," Mary adds.
"Are you saying that arguably the most dangerous weapon of all is on the one planet that is most likely to use it?" Picard asks, disbelief being audible in his voice.
Mary shrugs. "Basically."
"Then I suppose we have only one objective in all this," Data says. "To keep 'it' from falling in the wrong hands."
"As I suggested before," Zordon reminds them.
Picard rises from his chair. "I shall tell the helmsman to bring us to Earth."
"Thank you, Jean-Luc," Zordon says.
"I only hope your gratitude is not misplaced," Picard replies.