Title: To Conquer A Galaxy
Rating: PG-13
Chapter 5: Romulus Caesario Part 1
Disclaimer: I own neither Stargate SG-1 nor Star Trek of any series. I am doing this for fun only. Caesario, is a word for death, that I took from the English-Latin Word Search from ?langLatin .
Author Notes:
Johnnyg- here it is.
JOSH- Thanks, and here it is.
Zarky- Thanks for the corrections, I've changed my Microsoft Word dictionary I had edited to say the spellings were correct, so they'll use the real correct spellings. Also will use correct Primate Xindi/Degra bit from now on.
Andrewjameswilliams- Yep, a 'this can happen to you' demonstration before demanding total submission, and 'look at my big scary power' thing.
Everyone- Sorry for the wait, was re-adjusting to real life scheduling concerns. I was about halfway through a chapter before this about getting to know the crew when I went 'I hate the Romulans, let's kill them off and give a good reason for the crew to get to know each other while at their weakest'. Oh and a hint…the Prophets of Star Trek, the Ancients of Stargate, and the Forerunners of the eventual HALO are all interweaved in a way.
Light pierced his senses, slowly at first. Then, a bit more seeped through, and then came a shudder of pain through his body. He blinked a few times, and his vision began to return.
Above him he could see a medical bay's light blue ceiling, and the air tasted of sharp anti-septic. He croaked," Where?"
"Tresailles," said a voice to the side.
"Tresailles," Captain Smith repeated, as it hit him that someone had answered. His thoughts of the conversation with Kroenig came to mind, the Enchwa homeworld. The Enchwa…the ancient race the Federation had the barest of contact with. But why was he here?
"How much do you remember," asked the voice, sounding not overly concerned whether he remembered anything or not.
Smith grimaced, the last thing he really remembered was the deck rising up to meet him as the Daemonicus shuddered under continued lances of energy from a pyramid vessel. He shook his head, partially to try and un-cloud his memories, and partially to shake away the headache," We were fighting a pyramid ship; one of the ones that's been hitting the Romulans."
A figure stepped up beside the table from outside of his view, a grey skinned alien of roughly human height, with sharp claws and only one eye. It smiled, mouth full of diamond sharp teeth," At least that is a start."
"My crew," said Captain Smith, trying to seem more brave and alert than he truly was. It was more of a command to know how they were, rather than the request he knew it to be.
"Injured," said the Enchwa before him," Most are still not conscious…your bridge crew are fully unconscious at this time."
"Why," demanded the young Starfleet Captain, forgetting his fear of greater authority figures with the risk that his crew might be being mistreated.
"Your bridge suffered a direct hit with almost no shielding," said the Enchwa with what appeared to be his species' equivalent to a shrug," Most of them were closer to death than you."
"Oh," replied Smith simply, rather relieved that it had not been worse.
"Now," said the Enchwa, gesturing with a claw," Would you like to see our world, or at least some of it?"
"Very," said Captain Smith, struggling to his feet, almost instantly seized by vertigo after having been on his back so long.
The two walked out of the sterile room, Smith with a limp, even after recovering from the vertigo. The soft carpeting cushioned every step, but Smith could only remember the seared and barren images of the future of this place. Finally, after over half a kilometer of hallways later, fresh air met them.
The scent of various plants reached his nose first, and Smith mentally remarked at how different a smell it was from the smoky and charred stench of his last, and not yet, visit here. Magnificent structures rose around the square they had entered, crystalline monuments rose up into the clouds, and reflected rainbows of color through the plaza. In the center of the area was a fountain over a dozen meters high, and intricately designed to appear as an almost angelic form of Enchwa.
"A Prophet," remarked the Enchwa, noticing his guest's lingering gaze on the fountain, "Creator of the Universe."
Captain Smith stopped as if hit by a phaser blast. Didn't the Bajorans worship aliens called 'The Prophets' in the wormhole that connected the Alpha and Gamma Quadrants? Could early Enchwa development have been guided by the same species that had so shaped Bajor? It was then he became aware that his host was speaking.
". . . the tears as the Bajorans call them are locked safely within our most secure temples. But even the timeless Prophets cannot stop what is on the horizon, can they dear Captain?"
"I'm unsure what you mean by that," he replied to his host.
"I mean the war that will destroy this world if history isn't changed," said the Enchwa, his voice now icy, "You have been here before."
"I haven't," said Smith, trying to consider whether visiting in the future invalidated the honesty of his answer. It was an interesting question of temporal ethics and the Temporal Prime Directive, but perhaps best saved for a time when such esoteric thoughts would not be interrupted by an angry being.
"You have been here before," repeated the Enchwa," the chronitons are easily sensed. Perhaps fifty to a hundred years from now…"
Smith remained silent, perspiration breaking out around his collar from fear, not from any form of heat in the air. Quite the contrary, it was rather cool out.
"What role do you play in the Temporal Cold War Captain," asked the Enchwa, claws seeming to glisten even more with its anger.
"I'm afraid I don't know what you're talking about," said Smith, hoping his lie wasn't showing too badly.
"Oh but you do Captain," said the Enchwa, hiding its anger better now, "The Temporal Cold War is alive and well over the course of millennia. We Enchwa are aware of its nuances through both our own time traversing and our temporal senses. The only reason we would never feel your presence before you set foot upon our world would be…"
Smith braced himself for the outburst to come. Temporal Investigations would crucify him for this, especially when it threatened diplomatic ties with an important possible ally on the crux of a new war.
"…that our world had fallen, and we were extinct," finished the Enchwa, its grey pallor now a dull white, "What occurred here Captain Smith, and when?"
"Fifty years from now," Smith said quietly, voice catching in his throat as he uttered the words," the current war against the Romulans…"
"Is just the beginning," said the Enchwa, finishing his sentence. It gurgled in anger, "I have told the High Council this war would grow beyond our skirmishes and the extermination of the Romulans, but they have been hesitant to attack with a force larger than three ships! Your own vessel was proof enough of that…"
"Where is my ship," asked Smith probingly, wanting to know if it had even survived the battle, and desperate to change the topic from the Temporal Cold War.
"It is in orbit," said the Enchwa, claws still glistening," It is under repairs, you still do not remember the final moments of your battle?"
"No," said Smith, "I don't remember anything past falling to the deck…"
"A spread of transphasic torpedoes destroyed the cruiser you were chasing, and a second came out of their equivalent of warp speed directly above the Daemonicus," explained the Enchwa," Two of our warships drove it away. One gathered the wreckage of the ship you destroyed for analysis, the other brought you here, unwilling to let you die."
"We thank you," said Smith, trying to remember diplomatic courses he had taken at the Academy, "Without your intervention it seems my crew and I would be…"
It was that moment a communicator went off on the hip of the Enchwa. It reacted quickly and double tapped it, "Erasa here. What is wrong?"
The voice on the other end came through with morbid excitement, "Three pyramid ships are closing in on Remus, and the Romulans are focusing on defending Romulus. The Remans are being left to act as a sacrifice!"
"Thank you Intelligence," said Erasa. He double tapped the communicator once more to shut it off and turned to Smith, "Let us bear witness to the death of Remus."
Before Smith could ask how, he found out. The Enchwa's claws traced a wide circle around them, and a dome encompassed them out of thin air; images of space playing across it. On the left was Remus, the right the pyramid ships launching what appeared to be fighter craft of some sort.
Without warning two of the fighters exploded from an unexpected hail of disruptor bolts. Two Talon scouts had decloaked, and were drawing the fighters away from Remus. The first Talon danced right, energy lances moving past it harmlessly, the second however, was destroyed in a coordinated burst of fire. The first dove upwards, cut its engines and allowed the fighters to zoom past, raking them with destructive disruptor bolts as they passed. It did not start its engines in time unfortunately, and fell victim to the batteries of one of the pyramid ships.
Undaunted by the loss of half their fighter screen, the three pyramid ships advanced forward once more. The first lances of energy lashed forward to Remus, destroying the planetary defense disruptors before they could fire. The Romulans had not placed orbital defenses it seemed, after all, only Remans lived on Remus, and they were expendable.
A flurry of disruptor bolts came from seemingly nowhere, splashing across the lead pyramid ship's shields. They paled to yellow, but held. Moments passed slowly in the aftermath, before another set of disruptor bolts hit the ship again, overloading it's shields.
The pyramid ships fired into the void randomly, as if in a vain hope to hit something, anything at all that could be firing upon one of their number. Lances of energy, surprisingly, did hit a cloaked ship. Its cloaking device destroyed, the massive vessel became visible, and an easy target.
The Reman ship dove, letting loose another volley of fifty-two disruptor bolts into the now unshielded pyramid ship. Large chunks blew off the vessel, and air began to vent. The air continued to flow out, no form of emergency force fields were turning on.
"Interesting," remarked Erasa, a clinical detachment in his tone," The Remans had a ship they kept secret from the rest of the galaxy, and rather well armed at that."
Smith just continued to stare, not blinking as the Reman warship made a run on another of the pyramid vessels, slinging disruptor bolts and volleys of plasma torpedoes. The second pyramid ship's shields overloaded quickly, and could not fire a shot in defense before it too succumbed to the firepower of the Reman craft.
The final pyramid vessel let loose a stream of energy lances against its Reman counterpart, reducing the shielding to almost nonexistent levels. The Reman ship retaliated, reducing the pyramid ship's shields to nothing. The pyramid craft began firing anew, and it became apparent the Reman ship was doomed.
"It's going to ram the other ship," Smith whispered. The next few moments proved him correct, as the critically damaged Reman ship gained speed and crashed directly into the enemy vessel, destroying them both.
"The Remans may have bought the Romulans time to evacuate, form their defenses," said Erasa musingly, "But not enough. I have a feeling this was a test, to see if more power was needed. The Romulan Star Empire may be a test for the rest of the galaxy."