Potential

by Texan

What happens when SG1, with resident Immortals, meet up with the Battlestar Galactica? A war that could span the universe

7. Persistence, Pt 3

Persistence

Part 3 of the Potentials Series

Dedicated to Ecolea, for without her Changing of the Guard series, none of this would have been possible.

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Part 3

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Two weeks spent in a pocket dimension with nothing to look at but the absolute absence of color of any type. No forms of any kind of energy existed within this pocket dimension. It was proving to be just as unspectacular as the last time they had been in here. But unlike the last time, the engineering team was filled with more exploratory work than ever. The capture of several hundred Borg data storage units had revealed a treasure trove of weapons technologies, which were being fitted into the anti-fighter turrets, and onto the fighters of the fleet. The design specs for photon torpedoes proved easy enough to duplicate, even without anti-matter for the warheads. The use of naquadah-enhanced fusion warheads would prove to have almost as much punch as the photon ones did. And they still pulsated red as they shot through space, leaving a visible trace to follow to the target.

Marius had been surprised to find some parting gifts in his quarters from the various governments of the last universe. A pair of matching daggers and an excruciatingly sharp bat'leth from Chancellor Martok, along with the collected works of William Shakespeare in what the note said was the 'original Klingon'. From Admiral Sela, he had received what looked like an exquisite copy of their Praetor's scepter, and an invitation, should he ever return, to visit Romulus with the honorary rank of Pro Consul.

The Cardassians had been ever so grateful for the wormhole technologies that they had left in his office, the complete designs for the Keldon and Galor-class heavy cruisers. The Grand Nagus had left, in addition to everything he'd already received, a lifetime supply of something they called Beetle snuff. Marius considered himself adventurous, but the idea of snorting crushed beetles did not appeal to him in the slightest. The Dominion had left something unexpected as well. They had, it seemed, been reading up on the history of the Alliance and some of its member worlds, particularly the Asgard. Their methods of cloning were vastly different than those of the Asgard. It seems they had defeated the problem the Asgard were having and so they had passed along their complete history of the science of cloning. Perhaps somewhere in there was the answer the Asgard sought. As an aside, they gave to the Asgard, the Breen energy dissipation weapon. Though there were no Asgard representatives on board the Halsey, Marius deduced that they had spent some time conversing with O'Neill, perhaps, or with Major Carter. Either way, it was dammed generous of them.

The Borg gave the Halsey two things. The first gift had been before they left, when the Borg had turned the First World into a newly born sun. Hopefully, the remaining technological wonders of the Ancients were forever gone. The second and last gift, had been a complete database of the Borg, encased in six Interceptor class ships, which would lend their formidable computing powers to the engineering and science departments of the Halsey.

The next few weeks in the pocket dimension were spent retrofitting the fighters with phase cannons, with producing photon torpedoes in sufficient quantity to replace all of the now severely depleted stocks of Shipwreck and Harpoon missiles, and with the creation of miniaturized photon torpedoes that could be mounted on the missile rails of the various fighters. The ground equipment was also modified to use both standard projectiles, and energy based explosive rounds.

"Tok'Ra, we are ready to depart this space for the next part of our journey. Any hints as to what we are to do?"

"I was contacted by the Ancient we left in this place. He has kept a firm hand in the outcome of the human race native to this next dimension. You may liken him to the Fates of mythology that wove a tapestry with each strand representing a human being. He has told me that he has had to use one of our technologies to prevent a great tragedy. The unexpected side effect is that that universe is now locked into a temporal loop of approximately five years. He has identified five people whom he believes to be critical to the desired outcome. He has tried countless permutations of events, only to have at least one, and in some cases all, die at different times, with each death leading to a different outcome for that universe. Only one must survive for all the rest to live through their ordeal and for the loop to be broken. You must modify your shields to project a bubble of temporal particles. This will insulate you from the temporal loop and allow you to observe the events as they occur. The other Ancient, he uses the name Michael, or at least that is an approximate translation, fears that if the loop goes on for too many more incarnations, the damage to this universe will be impossible to correct."

"I see. Very well. Major Carter, can you make the necessary adjustments to our shield projectors?"

"I can sir. The Borg database has all the necessary information for that modification."

"Then get to it. Alright people, once more into the breach. We jump in as soon as Major Carter is done fiddling with the shields."

"Done sir. It was a minor change."

"Very well. All ships. Prepare for return to normal space. Jump now!"

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The transition from the pocket dimension with absolute nothingness to normal space never ceased to amaze him. The sheer multitude of colors present in the dimensional tear seemed almost kaleidoscopic in nature. The scanners always managed to capture intriguing images at their point of departure. The images, he knew, would play for days on various screensavers around the ship. As soon as they were back in normal space, two squadrons were launched as scouts for the Halsey, extending the range of her sensors by at least a million miles in all directions. It wasn't long before they heard the message. The message they were waiting for.

"Sir, we're picking up a distress signal on all subspace frequencies."

"On screen."

"It's audio only sir."

"Very well then. Main speakers, Mr. Jameson."

"Mayday. Mayday. This is Whiskey outpost to battle fleet! We are under heavy attack. Mayday. Mayday. Can anyone hear me?"

"Can you raise them?"

"Attempting to do so, sir. No response to any of our hails."

"Keep trying. Flight deck, make ready a Bulldog for immediate launch. Alex, get your team ready for deployment, on the double. Possible First Contact as well. Better take Major Mulder with you. He has command of the diplomatic mission, but you will be the overall ground commander."

"Sir, signal is emanating from the fourth planet in this system. It's a desert like world with many canyons. Evidence of an extremely intricate subterranean tunnel network extending for thousands of miles. The planet is covered with these underground tunnels."

"Noted. Launch SAR mission with escort. Fighters are to remain in space pending notification from the ground commander. Launch a pair of Danube's for possible ground support."

The Halsey had unknowingly set into action a series of events that would culminate in a First Contact. Elsewhere in the system, the Mayday broadcast had been received by its intended recipient. A team was launched from one of the vessels in the fleet, the Rodger Young. But they didn't land at the outpost. Instead they approached from a few miles distant.

The SAR team, led by Lieutenant Alexander Phillipson, used the ring transporters to enter the outpost directly. What they found, however, made even Alexander loose his lunch.

"SAR team to Halsey. How copy?"

"We read you five by five, Alex. What do you got?"

"A lot of dead bodies. Whatever happened here was not even remotely a good thing. Most of the bodies have been torn apart brutally. Many are not recognizable as human any more."

"Any live ones?"

"Not yet sir. I'm gonna have my people police up these bodies. Keep the squadrons on alert. I don't like this at all."

"Roger that. Do you need backup?"

"I could stand the help of another team or two."

"Affirmative. Sending additional support teams now. Halsey out."

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"Adam? What do you think?"

"I think that Alex is due for another promotion. He's done quite well since joining the SGC. Alex is an excellent strategist, and Mulder is becoming quite good at First Contact, but I think we should leave Alex in charge of this mission. Something about this place is making all the hairs on the back of my neck rise up."

"Alright Adam, I have the bridge."

"Better you than me, Marius."

"Smart ass."

"I invented that you know. The art of the smart ass. Should have patented it when I had the chance."

Marius never knew when to believe Adam and when not to. Ten minutes later, the two additional support teams were on the surface. Alex had placed men into the towers overlooking the compound where heavy weapons had been placed by the previous inhabitants. Oddly enough, they too were projectile based weapons. One of the support teams had brought along some heavier fire power than what the standard trooper was carrying in the form of LAWS rockets and fifty caliber machine guns. The rockets were distributed to the fire teams along the walls with the .50's spaced out as evenly as possible to provide overlapping fields of fire. Just then, one of the airborne scouts, still in space, reported movement on the ground near their position. Alex ordered his troopers to cover, out of sight of the approaching group of humans.

"Damn bugs sure did a number on this place."

"Rico, get me comms. Let's police up these bodies. Get me two men in the towers now!"

"Yes sir!"

The two troopers started their climbs up the towers at the same time. Both reached the top at the same time as well and then both put their hands up. One of them shouted a warning to those below. The result was an instantaneous raising of weapons that were being trained all around the compound.

"Hold fire!"

"Who the hell are you!"

"Name's Alex Phillipson. Lieutenant. AIS Halsey. We intercepted a Mayday and we came down to investigate."

"Never heard of you or your ship. Show yourself, now!"

Alex stepped out from behind the cover he had taken, weapon in his hands, but held low. He motioned for his troopers to step out as well.

"Well, you look human enough. What outfit you with?"

"I'm the strike team leader from the AIS Halsey. Like I said, we heard a distress call and came down to investigate. But all we found were torn up bodies. No live ones yet. We mean you no harm. We came to help, but if you don't want the help, we can always leave."

"You have a rescue boat nearby?"

"Yep. In orbit."

"Rico, get me those comms. I've got a bad feeling about this."

Neither team really trusted the other for the moment, but both sides were agreeable to an uneasy truce at best. The troopers under Lt. Rasczak went about their gruesome task of collecting the bodies for retrieval at some point. One of the troopers, a female one, went in to the communications shack to try and raise their fleet to apprise them of the situation. Others followed the Lieutenant into one of the buildings. The floor was pockmarked with holes, as if something had punched through the floor from below. They discovered more bodies inside, and miracle of miracles, a live one!

"Thank God for the Mobile Infantry! You all will get medals for this. I'll make sure of it. I had to hide you see. They gave up their lives for me. I have strategic data on our plans for this system. I had no choice. I had to hide."

From one of the towers came the shout that none of the MI wanted to hear, and one that none of the Halsey's strike team understood.

"Bugs! Bugs!"

"Rico! I need that transmitter! Warm it up! Give 'em everything you've got! Come on you apes, you wanna live forever?"

The strike teams from the Halsey ran up to the upper platforms to see just what had excited these infantry types so much. What they saw was something out of a nightmare. Thousands upon thousands of insect-like creatures, all headed their way. Above their heads, the gunners in the towers opened up on the incoming hostiles. There were two distinct barks of weapons fire; one from the tower mounted heavy machine guns, the other from the improvised mounts of the fifty caliber guns.

Though the weapons of these infantrymen and women looked advanced, many of the troopers from the Halsey were surprised to hear the all too common report of seven-point-six-two millimeter fired on automatic. It was a very unique sound.

"Lieutenant. How soon can your rescue boat get down here and do you have room enough for all of us?"

"In a few minutes, and I'm not sure. In that order."

"Well then, pour everything you have at them. They are what happened to the people in this outpost!"

"You heard the man! Open fire!"

Alex was standing beside Rasczak, firing at the enemy in short controlled bursts. The bad thing about the OICW was that it had such a small magazine, due in part to the two types of ammunition that it used, and in a larger part to the US military's desire for a smaller, more compact weapon. But nonetheless, he was firing at the incoming enemy. He hadn't brought that many clips with him, and with the high rate of fire, he burned through them quickly, then let the rifle drop in favor of the phaser rifle he had slung across his back. He set it to kill mode, in as wide a dispersal beam as effectively possible. The effect was devastating to the enemy, but it seemed to have little effect, as more of the enemy would appear in the place of their recently vaporized brethren. Alex grabbed his radio all the while still firing.

"Halsey! We need immediate retrieval! Tell the docs to stand by to receive wounded!"

"What's going on, Alex?"

"Whatever attacked this outpost is back in force! Oh shit! Broken Arrow! I say again, Broken Arrow!"

"Roger that! Support on the way!"

The effect of the 'Broken Arrow' radio call was immediate. The two squadrons flying loose circles around the three Bulldog transports immediately broke formation and entered the atmosphere at a high rate of speed. The two Danube-class scout ships, the Rio Bravo and the Nueces, departed holding orbit to support the troops on the ground. Their pulsed phaser cannons and their micro-photon torpedoes would prove a Godsend to the troopers on the ground. The effect on the deck crews on the Halsey was to spur them into urgent action. Flights of attack fighters began launching at quick intervals to assist the troops on the ground.

Lieutenant Rasczak looked up to the sky as he heard an approaching whine coming from his left. Strange looking planes were coming in fast and flying parallel to the outpost. Some sort of energy balls were falling on the bugs, incinerating large groups of them, but having little overall effect on the sheer numbers of the enemy present. He looked for an instant at this youngish looking short blond haired man, and the man in question only grinned and kept on firing at the enemy. Rasczak thought this man seemed to enjoy the fight going on all around him. He had this nagging feeling that he'd seen the young man somewhere before, but he could quite place his finger on it. Oh well, it would come to him eventually.

Above him, more fighters, and now some flattened pyramid ships were coming in hot and fast, raining down energy bombs on the bugs. Behind him, he heard the short, sharp bark of a rescue boat firing its retro rockets.

"Fall back into the compound! Hold there and fall back into the boat!"

Alex turned to look at their rescue boat and saw just how small it was. There was no way all of them could fit in there. Alex looked at his people for a brief second and he made the call.

"Cydonia! We need immediate large scale pick-up!"

"Beginning atmospheric insertion now!"

The troopers of the MI looked up and saw a very big ship headed their way. That such a large vessel could come in so fast and so controlled amazed them all. When it opened up with laser beams and heavy rockets, the troopers stopped firing, but only for a second or two. It was long enough for the enemy to tunnel in from under them. Rasczak disappeared as the ground opened up beneath him. He yelled. He screamed. It was a blood curdling scream that made every Immortal on the strike team turn his way. Alex rushed to help and got there as three other MI troopers pulled him from the hole. His legs were gone, cut off at mid-thigh. Alex keyed his throat mike.

"Cydonia! Emergency beam up! Directly to sick bay! He needs to get into a stasis pod immediately! Lock in on this signal!"

Alex unclipped his radio and attached it to the lieutenant and a second or two later, the screaming lieutenant vanished as an Asgard transporter beam took hold of him and whisked him away, to the stunned looks of the three MI troopers.

"What did you do to the Lieutenant? Where did he go?"

"He's safe. Worry about him later. Worry about us right now."

The troopers were falling back towards their rescue boat when a very big bug broke through the outer wall. A female trooper rushed up to it with a grenade in her hand. She tossed that perfect toss and it caught it square in its mouth. It was the type of toss every quarterback dreams of throwing. A second or two later, the upper half of the bug exploded, spraying most of the troopers in the compound with reddish-orange goo. The MI troopers cheered and then they turned to run to their boat. But at that very instant, the female trooper turned around, away from the enemy, and found herself on the receiving end of razor sharp feet. The insect looking creature pierced her body repeatedly and was hit by gun fire several times before releasing the trooper, with one of its claws still embedded in her chest. Two of her fellow MI troopers rushed to her aid, one of them pulling the insect claw from her body while the other one supported her body.

All the while, the MI troopers were pulling back to their rescue boat, and Halsey strike team members were being beamed up around them. The Cydonia was laying on thick covering fire, vaporizing whole groups of attacking insects only to have more fill in the gaps. The Ryan and the Prometheus had joined their sister ship over the outpost and were adding their own firepower to the fight. Strike aircraft were making pass after pass on the mass of creatures attacking the outpost, covering the withdrawal of troops from the compound. Even in the best of light, the most honest description that could be given to the whole situation was something akin to uncontrolled chaos.

"Rescue boat, this is the Cydonia Planitia. If you have wounded aboard, our medical bays stand ready to assist."

"Roger that! Preparing to dock with your vessel!"

Though Carmen Ibañez had never seen the likes of the vessel in front of her, the old adage about any port in a storm came to mind. She knew there were wounded troopers aboard, and the quicker they got to medical help, the more likely they would be to survive. The truth of the matter was that she was also damned curious about where this other ship had come from, and the matter in which it had evacuated its personnel from Whiskey Outpost further intrigued her. The Federation had nothing like that beam that made people disappear. They sure as hell didn't have ships like this Cydonia Planitia that could just as easily fly through an atmosphere as fly through space. And the support aircraft flying bombing runs against the Bugs! She had never seen their like either! She was damned curious! As she settled her craft in on the deck of this mysterious ship, she saw fighters of a strange design coming in for a landing, and her co-pilot came back up to the flight deck.

"I think you should know, you're friend Rico's back there."

"Get on the horn and...what the hell? Where are we?"

"This ship offered medical assistance for the wounded. I figured it would be better to land here than to keep on going towards the Rodger Young."

"I hope you made the right call."

"Lower the rear ramp."

There was already a small group of people waiting as the ramp came down. Men and women in some type of blue uniform. He guessed a few were medics from the arm patches with the red cross in the middle of the patch. But they didn't have a gurney with them, just some strange looking pod. As the MI troopers rushed out and took up formation around the rescue boat, the medics rushed in and triaged the wounded. Only one was critical enough to require the pod, and this woman went into the pod. Technically, she was already dead. The medics on the scene could find no pulse or obvious heartbeat. The pod was prepped for immediate transfer to the Halsey, where the sarcophagi were kept.

"Where are you going with her body!"

"Sir, we don't have the facilities to treat her wounds on this ship. The stasis pod will keep her at the point of death until we can transfer her to the infirmary on the Halsey."

"I'm going with her. She's my responsibility."

"Of course, sir."

"Actually, that's Sergeant. Not 'sir'."

"Of course Sergeant. Follow us please."

The Cydonia took up station along side the Halsey to effect the beam-over of wounded personnel rescued from the planet below. Two stasis pods came over, one with a woman at the point of death, and another with a man missing both legs below mid-thigh. The man was kept in stasis for now, but the woman was immediately transferred to a gold coffin like box. The Sergeant that had come with her was still too stunned to protest much, and after finding himself behind a restraining force field, found that it was all he could do to protest loudly.

"Bridge, sick bay. With the alert, I would've thought we'd get more wounded?"

"Negative Dr. Scully. Not much even a sarcophagus can do with a body that's been ripped to shreds."

"Ouch."

"Status of the wounded?"

"One female placed into a sarcophagus. The other wounded male has lost both legs at mid-thigh. Don't think the sarcophagus can re-grow his legs, though."

"What about prostheses?"

"I'll check the Borg database for something appropriate. Sick bay out."

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"Mr. Jameson, status report?"

"All fighters are back aboard. The Cydonia has one 'rescue boat' of unknown origin aboard. The wounded are in our sickbay, with Dr. Scully attending them. No damage reported."

"Very well. Keep a couple squadrons flying as CAP and the rest on Alert-Five. Scan the region for evidence of the ship or ships that could send that rescue boat."

"Already done with the scan. We are seeing a rather large grouping of ships about one light-minute out.."

"Hail them. All known radio, subspace, and tachyon frequencies. Tell them we've picked up one of their rescue boats and are treating their wounded. Otherwise, follow the standard First Contact protocols."

Sergeant John Rico was looking around this ship, or at least what he could see from the infirmary. It was a design he was unfamiliar with. He had never heard of a vessel called the Halsey. All Federation ships were named for famous soldiers, true, but the vast majority were named for MI type soldiers. From what he remembered from his historical studies, there was an early Earth admiral named Halsey, back before the formation of the Federal Council when there were still nation-states warring against one another. But that man that had been in the compound on the planet, Rico knew him from somewhere. He just couldn't place the face. But he was more concerned with Flores at the moment. He had seen her die, yet these people seemed to think they could bring her back from the dead. He was hopeful, but not outwardly so.

On the bridge of the Halsey, Adam had ordered the ship to head towards the large armada on their scanners. He had brought one of the pilots up to the bridge so that she could contact the fleet on using the communications suite on the bridge.

"This is pilot Ibañez calling Rodger Young, come in please."

"We read you pilot. Where are you?"

"You should be picking up a ship at the outer edge of your sensors. The people on this ship are human. They rescued us and the MI troopers at Whiskey Outpost. They have Lieutenant Rasczak and Corporal Flores in their medical bay, undergoing treatment. They wish to communicate with the Fleet Commander to discuss the opening of formal relations."

"Understood Pilot. We are moving to rendezvous with you."

Aboard the Rodger Young, the Captain asked for a visual image of the ship now entering sensor range from behind Planet P. The sensor officer reported back the initial findings only to be asked for clarification on the size. But sensor readings confirmed the size several times before he gave his report.

"Ma'am, that ship. It's about the size of six of our fleet vessels put together! Three miles long!"

"Nothing that big has ever been a part of the Federation. It's just a little smaller than Fleet Station Ticonderoga!"

"Yes ma'am. And they have an awful lot of other ships with them and they're headed our way."

"Alert the Fleet Commander, and get a channel to the Buenos Aires. The Sky Marshall needs to be informed of this event!"

"Aye Captain."

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Johnny Rico was staring at the strange gold coffin they'd place Diz into. He'd never seen anything like it. Then again, aside from the few Bug infested planets he'd been to, he'd never been off Earth. The odd thing was that it bore an odd resemblance to something he'd seen in a historical vid once, about the Pyramids in Egypt. Or at least the funny looking symbols on the coffin looked like that. It made him wonder just where these people were from. He had been staring so long that he failed to notice the coffin begin to open.

The upper portion opened like a pair of wings, pivoting on a central point. The inside glowed a brilliant white. He heard a sharp intake of breath, like someone who had been holding their breath suddenly remembering to breathe again. Then the person sat up, and medics rushed to their side and assisted them in stepping out of the coffin. When they drew away, Johnny was amazed to see Diz standing there, alive and intact. Other than the puncture marks on her uniform, there was no evidence that she had been wounded in combat.

"Diz! You're alive!"

"Johnny! Oh Johnny! I thought I was dead. I remember the rescue boat. I thought I was going to die! I thought I'd never see you again!"

"Actually Miss, you did die. Your body was placed in the sarcophagus and it restored you to full health. But it takes a toll on the body. You'll need to rest for a few hours, and take in some food to rebuild your strength."

"Who are you?"

"Major Dana Scully, Chief Medical Officer of the AIS Halsey."

"AIS Halsey? I've never heard of your ship. Johnny? What's going on?"

"Major Scully. I want to speak to someone in charge. I want to speak to someone in charge, now!"

"That would be me, I believe."

"Admiral's on deck!"

"As you were. You wished to speak with someone in charge young man. Go ahead and speak."

"Who are you?"

"I am Admiral Marco Ramos and you are aboard the strike carrier AIS Halsey. And you are?"

"Sergeant John Rico, 6th Mobile Infantry Division."

"Hmm, I see. I would guess then that you are in no position of authority to affirm or deny treatment for the officer in the stasis pod?"

"What sort of treatment?"

"Dr. Scully?"

"Admiral. The man in question has lost both legs, rather brutally, at mid-thigh. The sarcophagus, while advanced, can not reform bone and muscle tissue. Dr. Four of Ten has informed me that they can graft a pair of cybernetic legs to his body. And they can replace the rather primitive arm he already possesses."

"Very well. Ask Four of Ten to make his preparations. I will see about getting permission for the surgery. Sergeant Rico, if you'll follow me please, we'll head up to the bridge and see about talking with your ship and your people."

"Sir, if I may ask?"

"Ask away, Rico."

"What is the AIS?"

"AIS stands for Alliance of Independent Systems, which is presently headquartered on Luna. The Alliance is made up of several hundred member worlds, and spans thousands of light years."

"Wow."

"Admiral's on the bridge!"

"As you were. Report, XO."

"We've established audio contact with a ship in the armada on sensors. A Captain Deladier. All fighters have been recovered. Two squadrons currently on CAP with the rest of the fighters currently being equipped for close air support roles. No damage to any decks, and no casualties reported from Alex. All ship board systems nominal."

"Very well. Estimates of the armada's capabilities?"

"They look heavy on troop transports. Pilot Carmen Ibañez reports that the majority of their fleet are such. She also identified one vessel as the Buenos Aires, though the type of vessel she was unwilling to give details on."

"Launch two more squadrons for CAP duty. Deploy all platforms and order the Danube scouts to assist the corvettes and fighter squadrons with covering fire. I've a feeling that appearing weak before these people will be a bad thing."

"Admiral. Incoming signal from the Rodger Young."

"On screen."

"Aye sir."

"Commander Pierson? Is your Admiral available yet?"

"He's right here. Allow me to present Admiral Marco Ramos. Admiral, this lovely woman is Captain Deladier."

"Greetings Captain. We have some of your personnel aboard undergoing treatment. One in particular has lost both legs. As soon as he's conscious, we'll be asking him about his treatment. The remaining survivors have all been treated and released."

"I thank you for their medical treatment. If you would allow one of my boats to dock with your ship, we can take them off your hands."

"Not necessary. We have loaded them aboard one of our own troop transports, along with your rescue boat, and are preparing to go over to your ship."

"I see. Very well then. I will see you on the hangar deck."

"Yes."

"Channel closed sir."

"Very good. Adam, get Alex and his team ready for escort duty."

"Is that wise, Marius?"

"Probably not. Get O'Neill up here. I'll leave him in charge. If things go south, he's to do whatever is necessary to get us off that ship and barring that, he's to get this crew home."

"As you say, Mr. President."

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It was a Bulldog class troop transport that they were using for this excursion. In its cargo hold was the rescue boat from the Rodger Young. The personnel from the Halsey that were aboard were all Immortals. All dressed in Jaffa-style combat armor with Zat guns tucked into wrist pockets and holding Staff weapons in their hands. They looked formidable and that was exactly what Marius wanted.

The Bulldog approached the Rodger Young and entered her hangar bay. Before setting down on the deck, the transport moved to one side and beamed the rescue boat down, then moved back to the left and set down on its landing gear. The side hatches opened and one column of troopers emerged from each side, followed by Marius and Mulder. The clanking of metal boots on a metal deck echoed throughout the hangar deck.

Captain Deladier had never seen the likes of this troop transport. It floated gracefully, without the need for rockets of any kind. The deck officer guiding the transport was surprised when it moved over to one side. She was even more surprised when a white light flashed in front of her and a standard issue rescue boat appeared in their midst."They sure know how to make an entrance, don't they Colonel Jenkins?"

"I'd say so. The matter transportation technology alone is something the Terran Federation has been researching for decades. Not to mention the anti-grav engines that ship obviously has."

"Let's go greet out guests, shall we?"

"Welcome to the Rodger Young. I'm sorry, but you can not bring your weapons aboard my ship."

"Of course. Our staffs are purely ceremonial. May we keep these?"

"Yes. But no other weapons."

"Right. Sergeant, take up the Zats if you please. Lock them down aboard the Bulldog. And bring out our guests."

"Aye sir!"

"These are the personnel we rescued from the planet. Returned to you safe and unharmed. The one still aboard the Halsey is due to get replacement limbs in a few hours. As soon as he's ambulatory, he will be returned to you."

"Replacement limbs?"

"Our cybernetic technology is quite advanced. His new legs will give him new mobility his old legs couldn't. We will also replace his artificial arm to give him more options."

"Well. Thank you for that. Now if you'll follow me, we'll move to a more suitable environment for a meeting."

"Of course. After you Captain."

Without anyone noticing, or so he thought, Colonel Jenkins had slipped away to a communications console.

"General. They appear quite advanced technologically, but a bit too trusting for my taste. Their armor is something else. It looks remarkably like chain mail, of all things. It should be relatively easy to hold them hostage and obtain what we need from their ship. With their Admiral aboard, their vessel should be quite willing to negotiate for his safe return."

"I agree, Jenkins. Put it in motion. The Sky Marshall will be aboard shortly."

"Sir!"

Marius and the others followed Captain Deladier into a large room. It looked well appointed for meetings. It also looked well appointed for an ambush. Alex nodded to his 2IC, who passed along covert hand signals to the rest of his team. They moved in slowly to protect their President.

"That will be quite far enough, Ramos."

As Deladier spoke, armed MI troopers moved in to surround the Halsey party. The reaction from the seemingly soft personnel surrounding the Admiral was swift. Helmets closed and staves came down into ready positions and the ends of each staff opened up. MI trooper weapons came to bear on the men and women surrounding the Admiral and the men and women surrounding the Admiral began training their weapons on the MI troopers. Under normal circumstances, it might have been a one sided stand-off in favor of the Mobile Infantry. But these weren't normal circumstances.

"Showing your hospitality, eh Captain?"

"You are weak. We are strong. We will take what we need from your ship and you can do nothing to stop us."

"Ya know, you could also just ask us for whatever it is you want. But here we are, at an impasse. If my people fire at yours, they'll die. If your people fire at us, we won't. We will become our own second and third wave of reinforcements. And we will get off this ship and then you will be faced with the might of the AIS Halsey and her fleet. That will also be a rather one-sided battle I'm afraid. You see, we scanned your ships as soon as we spotted them on sensors. You have no shield technology. We do. Who do you think will win in that kind of battle?"

Deladier stood quietly for a moment, pondering her next move when Colonel Carl Jenkins walked up to her side. He was concentrating hard, looking directly at Marius, trying to read his thoughts, but all he could see was an impenetrable wall of light surrounding the man. He moved to a new mental target and found the same. All of the men in this strange chain mail armor had impenetrable walls of light surrounding their minds. He moved mentally again to the Admiral, and this time saw an opening in the wall. He looked in and what he saw confirmed his first impression. The image could only be of this man's home world. Men standing in what looked like a stadium, and fighting one another with short swords while thousands cheered on.

Marius could feel the brush of another mind. He projected an image from his past that would throw off the person doing the probing.

"If you're quite through looking through my mind, perhaps we can continue this little stand off of ours."

"Primitives. There is no way you could have sensed what I was doing!"

"Let me guess, two men facing off one another with short swords in front of a large crowd?"

"How?"

"I gave you that image, Colonel Jenkins. It is what I wanted you to see. You believe us primitive by your standards. But while you were looking in my mind, I was examining yours. You are engaged in a war against an insectoid species. There are many millions more of them than there are of you. Your Earth has but three colony worlds, all in your home system, and several outposts scattered over a few hundred light years. Our Alliance is spread across many thousands of light years in this galaxy and in the Triangulum galaxy. You call us primitives, but we are far in advance of you. Our ships can traverse thousands of light years in minutes. Even our fighters can travel faster than light. The same shields that exist on our ships exist at the personal level as well. So, yes, you can fire on us, but your projectiles will bounce off our shields. On the other hand, the plasma weapons embedded in our staves will launch packets of plasma that will burn through your flesh as easily as a white hot knife cuts through butter."

"This from a man wearing chain mail? You call yourselves advanced, but you are even more primitive than we are!"

"Look, we responded to a distress signal in good faith. Your crews are unharmed. Their wounds have been treated. One was even brought back from the dead. Yet you treat us like something less than human. You hold us hostage because you want our technology. Now if you want to discuss an exchange of technology then we are open to such discussions. If, however, all you want is to take our technology, then you will have made an enemy worse than the ones you fight now. For whereas they can only launch asteroids to bombard a single city on your home world, only one ship of our fleet would be necessary to bombard your primitive world back to the stone age!"

"Our fleet surrounds yours. If one of your ships attempts to escape, you will be killed and your ships taken by force."

Aboard the Halsey, Jack O'Neill was listening to every word being said on the Rodger Young. He knew his people were in some trouble, but he also knew that these others couldn't harm the Admiral's party. But with the other fleet surrounding them and looking like they wanted to party, O'Neill felt he should oblige them some.

"Flight deck, prep all fighters for ship to ship warfare. Launch all fighters then bring in the CAP squadrons and get them turned as quick as you can."

"Flight deck copies all."

"Weps, bring all guns to bear on that big honking ship out there, the one we've tagged as their flagship. Load plasma and photon torpedoes in all tubes."

"Aye sir!"

"So, Colonel, Captain. While you hold me here, my ship is preparing to blow your Flagship, the Buenos Aires, out of known space."

"Sensor officer, lock all targeting beams on that big ship!"

"Colonel Jenkins! We're getting targeting sweeps on the Buenos Aires! Hundreds of targeting beams are locked on!"

"So what will it be? Release us, and we'll go on about out business here. Keep us here, and risk an all out war. And we both know who'll win. Eventually, the winners of a war between your forces and ours, will be the enemies you fight. So you have a choice to make, but choose wisely."

"Let them go."

"Sky Marshal Meru?"

"Let them go. Our war is with the Bugs, not with other humans. We are here to defend Earth and our way of life against a species that wants to eradicate us. Must we do their job for them, Colonel Jenkins?"

"But ma'am, they have so many technologies that we could use to win this war sooner and save so many of our kind! They are not us, and it is our duty as members of the Terran Federation to do everything in our power to insure that the Human species is the dominant one in this galaxy!"

"Not to be an old record here folks, but ya know, you could always ask us for these technologies?"

"And you would give these freely?"

"No. But we are open to trade. So, shall we sit down to peaceful negotiations?"

"I think that is in our best interest at this time."

"Very well, Marshall Meru. In three days time, you and I will meet on the planet below us. My forces and your forces will provide security for this meeting. Is this agreeable to you?"

"It is."

"Then we shall take our leave."

Marius turned around and walked out of the ward room, surrounded, led, and followed by Alex's strike team. They walked right back to the hangar deck, onto the Bulldog, and left the Rodger Young. Once back in space, the Bulldog was surrounded by an escort of fighters and led back to the Halsey.

----------------------------------------

Three days later

Medical Bay

After a series of operations performed by a team of former Borg, the Terran Federation Lieutenant Rasczak was being let out from intensive care. He had a new arm, two new legs, and a targeting scanner in a removable headband. The Borg had given his new prostheses several options that would benefit a soldier. The arm had a built-in viewing screen that was tied into sensors on his legs, located near where a human knee would be. The sensors gave a wide variety of information, but Rasczak would find the most use from the radar screen to determine the approach path of incoming enemies.

Where the hand would normally be, the Borg had put in place a fully articulated artificial hand, covered by an artificial skin. With the hydraulic actuators in place of muscle and bone, the fingers could grasp something as delicate as a flower, or crush a chunk of granite. He could still use a standard projectile weapon, but the Borg took a page from the Federation weapons database and included a pulse phase pistol with twin barrels that would fire wherever he pointed his wrist.

His legs were structural tritanium. He could run at fifty miles per hour for days at a time, because of the cybernetic systems in his legs. They'd had to replace a number of bones in his lower body with tritanium because the new legs and his old body were quite incompatible. But the end result was a stronger overall body. But the question that remained, was whether the Lieutenant would like his upgrades or not.

"Well, lieutenant. Feeling better?"

"Much. Thank you sir."

"No need to call me sir, lieutenant. I'm not in your chain of command. Your Corporal Flores sent a distress signal, and a rescue boat from the Rodger Young responded, but our vessel was closer for the wounded. We brought you here. Corporal Flores was gravely wounded and she actually died enroute to the medical bay. We were able to bring her back. You on the other hand, had lost both of your legs. We've given you replacements and as long as we were at it, we replaced the primitive unit you had for an arm. Shall I tell you what we've given you?"

"Yes, please."

"Well first off, your new arm and your new legs are made of an alloy of trinium and titanium. It is the strongest material known to our science. The internal workings are covered by a synthetic skin that will allow you to feel heat, cold, water, and fire. Your arm has a digital display unit that will receive telemetry from a set of sensors mounted alongside both of your knees. Radar, sonar, ground penetrating radar, electromagnetic scans. In place of the primitive fingers you had before, you now have fully articulated and hydraulically actuated fingers. The pressure is adjustable based on what your brain dictates, from the gentle grasp needed to pick a flower, to the crushing power needed to kill your enemies. All of these upgrades can be used by themselves, or you can route the feeds to this headband, which has a drop down targeting scanner for one eye, and a laser targeting beam along side it. In addition to the display panel on the inside of your arm, there is a twin pulse phaser gun mounted above your wrist. Just point and shoot, but drop your hand out of the way or you'll vaporize it."

"Sounds like good advice. Admiral, mind if I ask you a question?"

"Please. Feel free to speak your mind."

"That young lieutenant of yours that helped us out on P. I have this feeling I've seen him before. Perhaps he just has one of those faces that remind one of someone, but I have this nagging feeling in the back of my mind that I know him from somewhere."

"P?"

"The planet you rescued us from. It's designated Planet P."

"I guess your government ran out of names, eh? But as to Lieutenant Phillipson, before I answer your question, I have one of my own, and a bit of an explanation. But I must ask that you at the very least try to keep this explanation to yourself. Can you do that?"

"I can certainly try. Please proceed Admiral."

"You come from Earth. It's a pleasant place, much nicer than some other planets in the universe, yes? Well, the thing is, we also come from Earth. Actually, the vast majority of the crew aboard the Halsey and her escort vessels are from Earth. I presently make my home on Luna, and there are members of my crew, like Colonel Starbuck, that make their home on Mars. But we also have crew members from Minbar and Narn, along with Quo'nos, and Betazed among others. But my Earth and your Earth are two different planets in two different universes. Among our other capabilities is the ability to breach the barriers between dimensions. Normally we wouldn't do this, as the chance to screw something up royally is too great."

"I can see that could be a bad thing. So my question would now be, why are you here?"

"That's a rather long and involved story that spans hundreds of thousands of years, but the gist of it is that prior to the evolution of human kind on our Earth, there was a precursor race we call the Ancients. Now, these Ancients were very advanced. They had the ability to travel between planets in the same amount of time that it takes you or I to take a gulp of our coffee. They had great cities in space, they had thousands of colony worlds and they were at a place where we hope our own races could achieve in our lifetimes. No war, no disease, no poverty, no famine. But they found the universe to be a lonely place. So they set out to breach the barriers between dimensions to see if other universes were just as empty of life. They were, empty of life that is. In several universes that showed promise and potential, the Ancients left behind a caretaker or an outpost world, in some cases both of these, to assist the younger races. To nurture them and to prevent them from wiping themselves out.

"Three years ago, four of those caretakers paid a visit to our resident Ancient, to ask for help. And now we are here, to correct a mistake. We are not here to engage in war against the Federation, or to defeat your enemy. Just here to correct a mistake, and to make sure that certain individuals survive a crucial period in your history."

"I see. But what does all this have to do with Lt. Phillipson?"

"I'm coming to that. As I said, I am from a different Earth. In fact, each of the universes we have visited prior to yours, have also had a planet named Earth. We have found in our travels that despite the differences between Earths, there are also a vast number of similarities. So, with that in mind, can you tell me if, in your history, there was a man known to our history as Alexander the Great?"

"Yes. In our history, he was elevated to the throne at a very young age and managed to unite a large chunk of the Ancient world before his death of natural causes at sixty-two."

"In our history, Alexander the Great was elevated to the throne upon the death of his father, also at a young age. But in our history, he died in his early thirties, after having conquered most of the Ancient world. On our world, there evolved a separate race of humans. They were created by the Ancients to act as guides and teachers and defenders. They were given one very special ability to carry out this daunting task. Immortality. The man you met on the planet, Lieutenant Phillipson, is Alexander the Great."

"I think I need to sit down."

"Here, this might help."

Rasczak took the proffered glass of whiskey and drank it down in one gulp. He'd heard a lot in his time as a soldier. He'd taught a lot in his time as an instructor of History and Moral Philosophy. But nothing in his experience could have prepared him for the realization that he'd met Alexander of Macedonia. It was a heady feeling.

"Feeling a bit overwhelmed?"

"A bit, yes. And you Admiral? Are you also one of these Immortals?"

"I am. My ancestry is Roman as opposed to Alex's Macedonian. In my time I was a Pro Consul, a Senator in the Roman Senate, a commander of her armies and a general of a legion. Alex was born around 300 BC, and I'm a bit older having been born around 500 BC. But, I am not the elder of my kind. That title is reserved for my Executive officer. He's not entirely sure of his birth date, but we modeled the star patterns that he remembers to some point between eight and ten thousand years before the birth of Christ."

"Got any more of that whiskey?"

"Here you go. I'll just leave the bottle out for now. You see, I seem to have a problem. My people acted in good faith when we heard the distress call from your outpost. We went down to do our best to save the lives there. But we didn't get there in time. We did save the lives of you and your team, however. And how were we treated for this? A Colonel Jenkins and a Captain Deladier tried to take myself and my people hostage. Hoping that the acting Captain of the Halsey would trade our technology for our safe return. What your people failed to realize is that while yes, you are advanced, we too have our own advancements. Some of those advancements render your ships unable to damage ours. So now, in a few hours, I will be on the planet below meeting with your Sky Marshall. Since you now know more about us than any on your side, perhaps you could act as an 'advisor' to your Sky Marshall. Both of our peoples are providing security for the conference, which will be held on P. So, either you can go down with me in a Bulldog transport, or you can ride down with me in a deployment pod."

"How do you normally transport troops to the surface of a planet?"

"Bulldog for a small force, deployment pod for a much larger force, or transport beam for a quick strike force."

"Deployment pod sounds like our drop boats. I think I'll try that."

"Are your drop boats the same as your rescue boats?"

"Same thing."

"Then I think our deployment pod is going to blow your mind."

----------------------------------------

Two hours later

The Terran Federation MI troopers had landed in force to clean up the facility known as Whiskey Outpost. The walls had been rebuilt, and new flooring laid down over the old. The bodies had been recovered. Mobile Infantry troopers manned the towers with weapons pointed out at the surrounding landscape. They were waiting for the delegation from the Halsey to arrive. The troops on the ground received word that the delegation was on its way.

In orbit over the planet, the Halsey was preparing to launch the deployment pod. Marius was seated in the command section with Lieutenant Rasczak. They were watching the monitors showing the view just outside the deployment pod.

"Halsey, we are ready for deployment. Launch the 'Furies into CAPs over the planet and around the pod."

"Confirmed, Pod One. You are cleared to deploy."

The latches securing the pod released from the Halsey and the pod broke free. A quick firing of thrusters pushed the pod away from the Halsey. A moment later it was a thousand meters away from the mother ship, and turning for atmospheric insertion. The pod entered the atmosphere and those on the ground below saw only an immense fireball coming down towards the outpost. The fireball resolved itself to a large squared off cylinder that was maneuvering for a landing.

Retro rockets fired, slowing the descent, and allowing the anti-gravity drive systems to come to full strength. The pod came to a hover, some two hundred feet above the ground, approximately one-half kilometer from the outpost. Pitons fired into the ground, and the pod reeled itself onto the ground. Leveling outriggers deployed bringing the pod into a level position for launching its aircraft.

The rockets ceased their firing and the engines wound down. The top of the pod opened like a clamshell and ramps came down from both of the long sides of the pod. Those in Whiskey outpost could not identify the vehicles that were coming down the ramps, but they were APCs with mobile shield generators, followed by hundreds of troopers. The APCs and their support troopers took up positions around the perimeter of the outpost, while combat engineers deployed portable shield generators around the outpost. MLRS vehicles came out next followed closely by Paladin self-propelled guns. These moved out to surround the pod, staying within the shield bubble the pod put out.

From the upper section of the deployment pod, fighters were lifting off, straight up into the air before moving horizontally to take up CAP orbits over the outpost. A pair of AEW helicopters lifted off to provide long range radar coverage for the pod, and Longbows and Werewolves were flying search patterns looking for any signs of Bug activity. Marius and his staff walked up to the outpost.

"Sky Marshall. Captain Deladier. Colonel Jenkins. So good to see you again. I did say I would provide some of the security for this meeting, didn't I?"

"You did. Though I'm fairly certain we weren't expecting your method of deployment."

"Perhaps not. As promised, your Lieutenant Rasczak. It may take him a while to get used to his new prostheses, but he is returned to you unharmed."

"Lieutenant? Is this true?"

"It is, Marshall Meru. The medical staff of the Halsey were most kind. I was treated as an honored guest at all times."

"Better than we treated them, so it seems."

"So it would seem, ma'am."

"Admiral Ramos. Will you be negotiating for your side?"

"No. I'll leave the negotiations in the very capable hands of my First Contact and Diplomatic team. I'm only here to make sure this conference is secure."

"And who would that be?"

"Major Fox Mulder as the chief negotiator, Dr. Daniel Jackson as his aide, and Lieutenant Alex Phillipson as our military liaison."

"You appoint a mere lieutenant as a liaison officer? What is the meaning of this insult?"

"Sky Marshall Meru, speaking as someone that has gotten to know them over the last few hours, I believe, that were I in your place, I would be deeply honored to have Lt. Phillipson at the same table as I."

"Rasczak? Have you taken leave of your senses?"

"I have not Marshall Meru."

"Your record speaks well of your abilities. I shall take your counsel for now. But you have just become my own military liaison."

"Of course."

It wasn't a matter of making any introductions, though Mulder tried to do so. But as far as Tehat Meru was concerned, the two parties were there for only one reason. The Terran Federation wanted as much technology as they could get away with. These other humans, wherever they were from, needed to recognize the power of the Federation. They needed to be made aware that only the Terran Federation was destined to rule over the universe. But his training as a psychologist, and his years of profiling the worst criminal minds humanity had ever produced, gave him an instant insight into Tehat Meru. And he gained said insight just by looking at her and how she approached the table. She was arrogant. Extremely arrogant. That was incredibly apparent in her stride. From this he inferred that she saw himself and the others from the AIS strike fleet as something far beneath her, like a shark not really looking at its prey, but at its meal.

"Sky Marshall Meru, I presume. I am..."

"It matters not who you are. You are here to negotiate on behalf of your Admiral Ramos. That is sufficient for me."

"Very well, Marshall Meru. What is it you want from us?"

"Everything. Your shield technology, your beam transportation technology. Your energy weapons. Your gravitic drive systems. We want everything."

"I see. And what do you offer in return?"

"We offer you your lives. We will allow you to leave our space unharmed."

"My, but you are a very humorous woman! For a split second, I almost believed you were serious!"

"I am serious. You will turn over these technologies to us, or we will kill you one by one."

"Ma'am, you do realize our forces outnumber yours?"

"But our forces are superior to yours. You are a primitive race. The vehicles that came out of your deployment pod look like those from our own history. Vehicles that existed more than three hundred years ago. There are numerous races in your crew, or so I am led to understand. I believe that none of your technology was developed by your race. I believe you have adopted the technology of others, therefore you can not deny us that same technology."

"If you truly believe that, then you are severely mistaken. Lieutenant, I do believe these people are in need of a little demonstration, don't you?"

"I believe I agree with you."

"Alex, are all of their forces inside the compound?"

"They are within the perimeter. I shall move our troops under cover. One blast or two?"

"Let's start with one full salvo."

"I concur. Do you concur, Marshall Meru?"

"What in God's name are you talking about Major?"

"Just sit still and watch, Sky Marshall."

The troops from the Federation were all within the perimeter and the troops from the Halsey were all under cover. Outside the deployment pod, the Paladin self-propelled guns raised their barrels to the sky and let loose with one round each, bracketing the target area with dense white smoke. Meru could no longer see beyond the compound, but she heard a distant sound like hundreds of angry bees. The white smoke was obscuring everything in sight around the compound. She looked up, driven by some primitive instinct to do so, and saw hundreds of rockets arch over the compound and split open. She had no way of knowing that the Halsey crews had set up portable shield generators around the compound. She truly believed at that moment, that she had made a serious miscalculation in her opening statement.

The rockets had spilt apart, raining down hundreds of small bomblets, which began exploding when they impacted the shield above them. Mulder, Jackson, and Phillipson looked up once and then looked away. They were trying to make this look like it was a routine event, shells impacting on the shields. But for Tehat Meru, the explosions all around her were driving a deep spike of fear into her very heart. As quickly as the explosions started, they ended.

"Mulder, instead of going through the motions here, why not ask a high authority for an opinion?"

"Are you talking about what I think you're talking about?"

"If it starts with a 'T' and ends with an 'A', then yes."

"You tried to kill us! What the hell are you thinking man!"

"You threatened us first, Meru. You demanded our technologies and offered us our lives in return. We wanted to demonstrate the power of our advanced technologies, just so you can understand what you are dealing with. The rounds of smoke, obscured your view of the deployment pod, so you were unable to see what was coming next. That was done so as to raise your level of fear. You must realize that we are no better than you are. We are your equals, not some minor bug to be squashed beneath your feet. And speaking of bugs, it was you that invaded their space, right?"

"How could you know that?"

"It tracks with your arrogant attitude. Wouldn't you agree Tok'Ra?"

"I would Fox. For an infant member of my own race, you have wisdom beyond your years."

Meru, Jenkins, and Deladier were startled by the appearance of a gaseous cloud in their midst. It was golden in color, but transparent in nature, with sparkling particles of some unknown substance in chaotic orbits throughout the cloud.

"What the hell is that?"

"The 'that' that you are referring to is I. Tok'Ra. I am an Ancient. A member of the precursor race that seeded this galaxy and others like it, with life. These beings of the Halsey are under my protection. They are here at my request. The task I set out for them has nearly been completed. There are five questions that remain to be answered. Once these queries have been resolved, they will depart your space. Now, will you comply, or will you die?"

"We will...comply."

"Michael? Are you listening? My children have done as you asked. But those whom you guide here are behaving no better than the Goa'uld of our own universe. You have asked us to save the One, and we have done so. With the guidance of the One, the others will survive now. This is what you wanted, yes?"

"It is, old friend. I regret that my own wayward children have acted so badly. After so many millennia in this place, weaving their fates into a masterpiece tapestry, I find myself at a loss for what to do next. It makes me wonder at times, if someone else controls my own fate."

"There is much to be said for free will, old friend. The young ones believe themselves to be the masters of their own fates, the captains of their own ships, but how little they know. I am unsure how much of the history here is the same as the history of the humans from our own universe. There was a man by name of Sophocles who wrote 'Fate has terrible power. You cannot escape it by wealth or war. No fort will keep it out, no ships outrun it.' But I tend to prefer 'The Moving Finger writes, and having writ, moves on.'"

"Pretty words Tok'Ra. Who wrote the last?"

"It comes from a book native to our home world, called the Rubaiyat. There have been many who have tempted fate and who have both lived and died because of Fate. You who control the fates of these men and women, who controls the fate of this universe, you must act now to save your tapestry. One day, it will be complete, and on that day, one of our Children will be there to take your place, to guide the next generation through the rivers of time. But I have need of you here. The humans of this universe will recognize you more easily than they will me. It has been how long since you last appeared to them?"

"Centuries. But the recognition of my form is encoded to their genetic structure. I come, now!"

To the astonishment of the members of the Terran Federation, a second ball of gas appeared in the sky above the compound. It was perfectly spherical and mostly transparent. There were particles of matter swirling throughout the cloud, that slowly coalesced into the shape of a human face. It was a classic face, like one that could be found on the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel. Long flowing white hair and a white beard. A face wrinkled and creased by the endless passage of time. The Federation troopers took one look at the face and fell prostrate to the ground. Some viewed the face as that of Jesus Christ, some as the God that Moses worshipped. Others as the God that Mohammed worshipped. It was a genetically engineered response, programmed into the Humans of this universe when their Earth had first been seeded with life. It was the same technique the Ancients had taught to the Vorlons and the Shadows in another universe. The Humans from the Halsey only saw a glowing ball of gas.

"My children. You have come far in so short a time. But so many of my children have passed beyond. So many worlds seeded with life have proven more than that primitive life could bear. But you have taken that adversity that your planet has given unto you and turned it to advantage. Yet here you find yourselves, fighting an enemy you will have to dig deep into yourselves to win against.

"This universe is full of life, but you have explored not even one percent of it. So many adventures await you. There are races you will call friend, and there are races who will believe themselves superior to your own. But the race you have encountered here these who look like you, who think like you, who love and hate like you, they are your brothers.

"You have come so far. I have watched over you always. I have been there since your beginnings, when you fought brother against brother, each of you trying to carve out an Earthly empire of your own. I have watched as you emerged from the trees of your home world, as you joined together for mutual protection, as you formed villages, and cities, as you formed states and nations. I watched as you took your first tentative steps into space, as you filled the space surrounding your home world with primitive satellites.

"I watched as you advanced scientifically, first mastering basic mathematics, and then delving into the realm of sub-atomic physics. I looked on with horror as you used what you had learned to destroy cities, but I realized also that this was a necessary step along your evolutionary path.

"You are an aggressive species. Perhaps too aggressive for your own good. Time will prove whether or not this true. Time and Fate. For I am the guide for your fates. You are the masters, navigating the rivers of your lives, but I am the one who will guide your course.

"These brothers of yours, from across the heavens, they have come at my request. There was an error in the tapestry of time and fate. An error I could not correct. I asked my brother, Tok'Ra, for his assistance. He sent his own children to assist me in my task. They have done well. It is time for them to leave this place. They will never return here. Before they leave, I have five questions to ask of my own children.

"Jean Rasczak. You are a strong leader among your kind. You are destined for greatness as a soldier among your kind. But these children of Tok'Ra face an enemy that make the native inhabitants of Klendathu pale in comparison. If you join the Halsey, you will be allowed to return to this place. The things you will learn under their tutelage, will decide how your race advances to their next logical step.

"Juan Rico. You have within you the potential to become a Sky Marshall, if that is your ultimate desire. If not, you will still become a great leader among your kind. The skein of your fate has much thread to run, and it will touch and intersect with so many others. You may or may not decide to join with those on the Halsey, but you will have the same opportunity to return if you do so.

"Carmen Ibañez. As a pilot, there is no equal to you in this universe. There are men and women aboard the Halsey, and in the place from which they come, that can run circles around you on your best day. To you I pose the same question. Go with the crew of the Halsey, learn what you can and then return to assist your comrades in arms.

"Dizzy Flores. It is not your fate to be a strong leader, as your fate hinges on the actions of others. Under the tutelage of Alexander of the Halsey, and of others like him, you could be a great strategist. In this place, all you can do is study the actions of the one you call Alexander the Great. On the Halsey, you could become his apprentice. The difference in strategies, between theirs and yours, could mean the difference between victory and defeat for your Terran Federation. You may go with them, if you desire, and you will return, again if you desire.

"Ace Freehy. Leadership is not in your future. Yet you are perhaps one of a very few soldiers that cares about the well being of your fellow soldiers. To you I pose the same question.

"To the rest of you, I have to say that I am somewhat disappointed how your planet has developed in a political sense. More than half of your population has no right to say what does or does not happen to them. The principles of democracy as set down by ancient empires have been lost. Instead, you have a form of government that is closer to fascism in terms of ideology than any other in the known universe. But while you wage war against a species vastly different from your own, know this. There are other races in your universe that are far more dangerous than the Arachnids.

"As a species, you still have much to learn about tolerance. You still have far to go in your evolution before you can be offered the stewardship of a younger race. You could unit this entire galaxy under your banner, but there are races in the universe, in other galaxies whose empires stretch across multiple galaxies. You are still very young. You still have much growing up to do. And I will be here, always, to guide you. And when, in the fullness of time, you reach your pinnacle of evolution and begin to guide the younger races, my time here will be completed, and I will move on, to join my brothers and sisters, beyond the great veil.

"Now you must choose. Make your decision."

"Before any of you speak, I have something to do add. The Ancient here, your steward of your fates, has alluded to apprenticeships under Alexander. While Alex was once a great leader of men, and indeed a King of Macedonia, there are others among us from which you can learn much. To list but a few, two Roman generals, two Scottish chieftains, a Celtic general, and an Egyptian general. There are citizens of Luna that have been alive for thousands of years. Among them is myself. I am Commander Adam Pierson, also known as Methos. Once upon a time, I was known by a much different name. Together with three of my brothers, we roamed across the world, striking fear and terror into a primitive man. It is in response to the raids we carried out that civilization arose. Who was I? I was Death, one of the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse."

There was silence in the compound. It was one thing to say Alexander the Great was among them. Quite another to have a living representative of a Biblical myth in their presence. Only it wasn't a myth. But there were many looks of disbelief among the Federals. The Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse was something out of ancient history for them. There was no real evidence that they'd ever existed. Yet here was this man claiming to be one of them. Not just one of the Horsemen, but perhaps the most feared of them; Death. The Bible claimed Death would ride in on a pale horse and that power was given to him over a fourth of the Earth to kill. There was much to be learned at his side, but only for someone brave enough to accept the inherent challenge that lay with befriending Death himself.

"Well, uhm. If it's all the same to you, Mr. Horseman, I think Mother Freehy didn't raise me to go traipsing around the universe. I'll stay here."

"First off, let me say that I am extremely grateful to the medical crews aboard the Halsey for the gift of my new legs and my new arm. I thought for certain that I was dead on that last mission. This war is far from over, and though I do believe I could learn a lot from you, I regret that I must stay. Someone has to make sure that this generation of Citizens is not the last in the Federation."

"You say that here I am the best pilot. I've known that all along. But you also say that the Halsey has far better pilots than me? This is hard to believe. But there is something I trust about you. I have nothing left in this place. My family was killed when the Bugs wiped Buenos Aires off the map. I think that I should like to learn more about the profession I have chosen. I think that I will go with them, but only on the condition that I be allowed to return when my studies with them are completed."

"You will be allowed to return."

"You say that I could one day be a Sky Marshall, that this is my fate. I say that I am the master of my fate. I and only I control this. I feel that I can learn much at the knee of Alexander. If he is who he claims to be, a man who once commanded an army of over forty thousand, a man who conquered sixteen countries in an age where men fought with swords and spears, then I can learn much from such a man. I will go."

"You will be allowed to return."

"I agree with Rico. I am the master of my own destiny. But like Carmen, I have no one left in this place. My entire family was wiped out at BA. And like the Lieutenant, I owe my life to the medics aboard the Halsey. I could feel myself dying, my life's blood pouring out of me. The last thing I remembered was a brilliant white light surrounding me, and then I awoke in some sort of gilded coffin. Alive and in one piece. My uniform was in tatters, but my skin was whole. I don't understand what kind of medical magic that was, but I owe my life to them. If I can learn something in the process that will make me a better soldier, then I too will go."

"You will be allowed to return."

"Wait a minute here! I'm more intelligent than Rico or Flores! Why not me? Why didn't you choose me?"

"Carl Jenkins. Among your kind, you are a mental king. Among the races of the universe, you are of feeble mind. You have dared to examine the mind of one our children. Be eternally grateful that he did not deign to push off your mental invasion in a most just form. You are egotistical and believe you have no limits in this world. For this reason alone, you were not among the chosen. Learn humility. It will be of use to you in the future.

"The Choosing is complete. The task for Tok'Ra and our children is completed. Tok'Ra, you have done well in your rearing of our children. I am proud to say that at least one of our experiments proved fruitful even beyond my own dreams. When my task is at last complete, I will join our brethren. But not yet. Not yet."

"Admiral! We've got movement! Lots and lots of movement!"

"Sky Marshal Meru, you are critical to your war effort. We'll buy time for you and your party to escape."

"Agreed. Captain Deladier! Pass along word to the fleet to begin a landing!"

"Captain! Tell you're people they'll be landing under fire, but we'll give them all the cover we can!"

"Thank you!"

Radar sensors on the AEW helicopters were screaming like mad, showing solid blobs of incoming enemies from all directions. Marius gave immediate orders to the deployment pod to relocate immediately behind the compound, so that its shields could be stretched over the compound. The move was quickly accomplished and with shield spikes driven ten meters into the ground in a perimeter around the compound, the ground beneath the compound became impenetrable.

In the distance, fire from the Longbows and Werewolves could be heard, protecting the AEW SeaKing and attempting to slow down the masses of insects headed for them. The SeaKing was pulled back to the shield coverage of the deployment pod. But the attack choppers kept pouring on fire at the enemy. They were joined by the Paladin units as they began laying down a perimeter of high explosive shells into the path of the oncoming enemy.

From above, Al'kesh bombers and Thunderbolt fighter-bombers were laying down heavy volumes of bombing runs, trying to disrupt the enemy masses, but it was seemingly no use. Though hundreds, perhaps tens of hundreds, of the enemy had been vaporized under the relentless pounding of plasma bombs and high explosive shells, more appeared to take their place.

The scout ships Rio Bravo and Nueces came down hard and fast, flying three hundred feet apart. The torpedo launchers were firing continuously as were the phasers, cutting a wide swath in the field of attacking Bugs that was almost instantly replaced by more of the Bugs. Behind them were the Salado, the Guadalupe, the Brazos and the Colorado. More scout ships operating in pairs, mowing down wide swaths of Bugs only to have more Bugs take their place. But the brief respites of mowed down bugs gave those in the compound a few seconds of precious time with which to reload weapons and prepare for the next in an endless assault wave.

The big heavy caliber guns in the towers were chattering away at the incoming hostiles. Bullets passed easily from the inside of the shield to those targets outside the shield, but those same targets outside the shield were running into the proverbial brick wall. For a moment it appeared as though the Arachnid warriors were stunned by the appearance of this new barrier. But only for a moment. Far to the rear, those in the towers saw huge beetle shaped bugs turn around and point their tail ends at the compound. The AIS gunners had no clue what this meant until they saw great blue-white gobs of stuff being launched from the bugs at them.

The bug plasma was very efficient on un-shielded targets, but proved no more deadly than rain on a roof to the shields. Rockets from the MLRS kept falling in a circular pattern starting at its closest point of six hundred yards out from the compound to a distance of twenty-four hundred yards beyond that point. The insects within that eighteen hundred yard strip were incinerated from the high heat of the explosives, or shredded by the fragmentation warheads. The Paladin guns were firing long range shots, trying to take out the bug artillery. Here and there, high explosive rounds struck true and great big gouts of bug plasma exploded into the air, raining down on their comrade bugs, melting them into pools of insect blood and guts.

Elsewhere, the attack helos had pulled back to the shield coverage of the deployment pod. That left the major air-to-ground punishment to be delivered by the Yaks and the Harriers, who flew in and darted side to side, laying down a combination of explosive and incendiary ordinance. Cluster bombs and napalm were falling, bullets were flying, and Methos wondered if all the Federals had left the planet. He looked up for a moment to see a sight he never thought he'd see. Six of the eight battlecruiser escorts were coming down through the atmosphere, to lay down heavy firepower with their heavy phaser cannons, neutron beams, and anti-matter torpedoes.

After what seemed like hours later, but was only minutes, new ships began dropping down through the atmosphere. Deployment boats from the fleet in orbit overhead. With new targets coming down, many of the large beetle-type Bugs pointed their tails skyward and began launching great blue blobs of plasma at them. Many of the blobs continued harmlessly past the dropping boats only to encounter the fleet in orbit.

In orbit over the planet, the blobs of plasma were finding targets in the too closely spaced fleet. Here and there plasma fire met unshielded ship and chaos reigned supreme. The communications lines were jammed with calls of 'Mayday' repeating over and over. The Halsey and her escorts could do naught but stand by and watch as so many large and powerful ships fell victim to the Bug plasma. Search and Rescue craft were launched from the Halsey, and her many escorts began moving through the battered fleet, beaming up passengers in escape pods, saving them from a more gruesome death on the surface of the planet below.

One such escape pod from the Rodger Young was missed in the confusion and it was forced into a crash landing on the planet, careening off a low hill and penetrating the ground, eventually coming to a stop in a subterranean tunnel. Its two passengers regained consciousness quickly after the landing and pulled emergency weapons from the storage compartment at the rear of the pod. They soon found themselves surrounded by Bugs.

In the compound known as Whiskey Outpost, the troopers of the Halsey were giving as good as they could to cover the landing of troops on the surface. The Yaks and Harriers withdrew just long enough to rearm and refuel at the deployment pod, but the Apaches and Werewolves were still going strong, and making their presence felt on this most surreal of battlefields. Here and there, the new photon tanks and photon artillery were making forays into the advancing Bug hordes, firing their weapons, and vaporizing large masses of Bugs. Every one of the troopers knew full well that this battle could not be allowed to degenerate to a hand-to-hand phase. If it were to fall that far, they all realized that most of them would die. Bullets were flying, grenades were exploding, but still they came, to meet more bullets and more grenades. More bombs fell, and more air-to-ground missiles hit the Bugs, but still they came forward. It was like a never ending river gushing forth, spilling the enemy on to the field of battle.

In a tunnel beneath the surface, Zander Barcalow, one half of the flight team that had called the Rodger Young home had been killed. The 'Brain' Bug had sucked his brain dry of its contents, both literally and figuratively. Lieutenant Carmen Ibañez lay on the ground, pinned to it by a Bug foot that pierced her body at the shoulder.

At Whiskey Outpost, the difference in the flow of attacking bugs was noticeable. As if a switch had been flipped, the Bugs began to fall back to their tunnel openings. Bombers flew overhead, dropping their payloads and sealing the tunnels for the time being. One by one, the guns fell silent, until silence reigned supreme. The crackling of fires could be heard on the ground near the outpost; the planes and helicopters still flew overhead, but silence reigned everywhere else. Cans of ammunition and pods of rockets were passed along the line, giving the defenders time to rearm themselves.

At the deployment pod, ammo trucks streamed out to re-equip the Paladins and the MLRS units. Reinforcements were sent to the outpost, to give the defenders on the walls a chance to pull back and regroup their sanity.

On the Halsey, fighters and bombers were being turned as quickly as possible for more ground support missions, while the SAR craft continued to make runs to retrieve life pods ejected from the various fleet ships, and the bodies trapped in damaged sections of ships. The secondary launch deck was a mess of wounded undergoing triage. The critical ones were moved into stasis pods and sarcophagi, while the less critically wounded were beamed directly to various aid stations around the ship. Every medic, doctor, and EMH was busily stitching up the wounded coming in from the fleet.

Lieutenant Juan Rico and his squad of Roughnecks emerged from the tunnel, one rescued pilot in hand, to find victory. Rico's former Drill Sergeant, now a Private, had managed to capture a Brain Bug. The crowd fell silent as Colonel Carl Jenkins approached the Bug and laid his hands on it. He was doing what he had attempted to do to the Immortals of the Halsey fleet. He was attempting to scan the Bug. Behind him an unknown General asked him, 'What's it thinking, Colonel?'

"It's afraid. It's afraid!"

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"Halsey to Buenos Aires. We hope our little diversion helped you below."

"It did. Our troopers have secured the surface and we have carried out our mission objectives. We understand your craft rescued many of the personnel from the damaged ships of the fleet?"

"Our SAR craft are still moving through the damaged ships, but we have recovered well over a thousand personnel. We are treating them as fast as we are able to, and moving them into temporary quarters until we can transfer them to one of your ships."

"I believe I misjudged you, Admiral. Without your help here today, I fear our casualty rate would have been devastatingly higher. How can we repay you?"

"There are ships in your fleet that have been shorn in two. Perhaps you could see your way clear to giving us one of those ships?"

"Pick any one of those ships. You will repair it?"

"We will. Then we will be on our way. In fact, my people have already picked out a ship, the Douglas Munro."

"Very well."

The two fleets moved apart. On one side, those in the Federal fleet began to asses the damages from the latest mission. Planet P had been pacified to a small extent, yet unless all of the Bugs there were eradicated, it would never be compatible with Human life. The fleet began a bombing action, and dozens of nuclear devices were dropped on the surface, turning large parts of the planet into fields of glass.

Opposite the fleet, the Halsey and her escorts had towed the damaged sections of the Douglas Munro to a parking orbit near the Halsey and the two fleet tenders. Docking cradles were extended, and the tremendous task of repairing the Munro began in earnest.

When the repairs were completed, almost six weeks later, the ship was as good as new and now sported full shields. The remaining troopers from the Halsey, less than two thousand of them, had been moved over to the Douglas Munro, along with all their equipment. Pilots of the helicopters and planes would now serve double duty as drop ship instructors until such time as enough new drop and retrieval ship pilots had been fully trained.

The last thing to happen was the final transfer of personnel from the Halsey fleet to the Federal fleet and the coming aboard of three Federals to the Halsey.

"Halsey, all of our troops have been recovered. You have three of ours aboard your vessel? The ones who will join you to learn from you?"

"They are safely aboard. When next we meet, if we meet, perhaps it will be as friends, yes?"

"Yes."

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"Mr. Jameson. Ship status?"

"All boards show green. All fighters recovered."

"Very well. Our guests?"

"They are being shown to their quarters."

"Have them brought up here. I want them to see where they are going."

"Aye sir."

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"Lieutenant Rico and company reporting as ordered sir!"

"As you were, Rico. I thought you and your two comrades would like to see where we are going."

"We would sir."

"Very well. Ms. Ibañez, take a seat behind the navigation officer. Ms. Flores, behind the sensor officer, and Mr. Rico, up here with me."

"Mr. Jameson, bring engines up to full power."

"Full power, aye sir."

"Weapons officer, bring shields to full power."

"Shields to full, sir."

"Full power to the dimensional projectors."

"Full power, aye!"

"Jump. Now!"

"Jumping, sir!"

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Aboard the Rodger Young, Captain Deladier and her bridge crew were watching the Halsey. Space suddenly seemed to rip apart in front of the Alliance vessel and for a split second it seemed to hang on a precipice. Then the ripped open space swallowed the vessel and her escorts and they disappeared from sensors.

"Sensor officer! Report!"

"Sensors indicate the Halsey opened a tear into what can only be described as another dimension of space. The vessels entered the tear and space reformed behind their passage. There is nothing to indicate the presence or lack thereof of the tear."

"Speculate."

"The vessel Halsey and its crew are not from this dimension."

"Interesting. Send all sensor readings to Starside Research on Earth. Maybe they can find something useful."

"Yes ma'am!"

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