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[E1701]

I had an old ST vs SW fic I had been writing over the summer, and I didn't like how it was going, so I rewrote everything from the first page on. This is the first chapter here, and I just wanted to get some soundings on it.


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“Mr. Barclay, what do we have here?”

Lieutenant Reginald Barclay dropped the padd he was holding, and whirled towards the sound. “Captain? I w-was just uh, well, I was only,” sudden recollection of his project lit his eyes. “I was designing a tactical simulation based on the capture of Cardassia Prime, and the battle that preceded it because it just occurred to me that there were probably other options available that would have cost the Federation less, and still have won against the Dominion, and it wasn’t like I was going back to my holo-addiction, because I wasn’t using that many hours and it seemed like a good idea - ”

Captain Jean-Luc Picard waved aside the flustered engineer’s explanations with an amused gesture. “No explanations needed Lieutenant, I was on my way to my quarters, and I thought I would drop in and see what it was exactly that you had been spending so much free time on. Besides,” he finished with a wink; “You left the door unlocked.”

Barclay paled. “Oops.” Picking up the forgotten padd, he nodded enthusiastically. “Would you like to see what I have?”

Picard nodded. “Of course.” Barclay was a great engineer, even if a little eccentric, and it would indeed be fascinating to see what he had come up with.

Tapping a button on the padd, Barclay called out, “Computer. Activate program ‘Barclay Dominion War alternate 2.’” Almost immediately, the yellow grid lines of the holodeck disappeared, replaced by the vastness of space. Picard almost stepped back, as he was suddenly surrounded by… nothing. It was unnerving, but Barclay seemed to take it in stride. Immediately, Picard could pick out the bright glow of a nearby star (dimmed by holodeck safeties, of course), and just off to one side was the reddish sphere of a planet – Cardassia Prime. Looking closer, Picard could make out the tiny gnats of warships and defense platforms surrounding the planet. It was almost a peaceful scene, he thought. But seconds later, Barclay pointed out another swarm of dots closing on the planet. The 6th fleet. Picard winced, knowing what was coming next.

He wasn’t surprised at all when the flare of phaser and disrupter shots were traded between fleets, but what happened next was surprising. Instead of enveloping the planet as had actually occurred, the fleet pulled into a wedge formation, heavy starships like Galaxies and Excelsiors at the center, lighter cruisers out to the sides, and the tiny tactical-fighters taking up the flanks. The Klingon and Romulan forces held back, and laid down a heavy fire from long range. Without pause, the miniscule Federation fleet tore into the equally miniscule Cardassian defenses, and ripped a path straight through to the surface. Then the simulation dissolved into a sparkle of multicolored light.

Picard blinked. “Impressive, Mr. Barclay. But why did the simulation just end there?”

Reg blushed. “Thank you sir. That’s the point where the Defiant would have had a clear shot at beaming down Constable Odo.”

“I see. What is the purpose of this simulation, though?”
“Well, I wanted to see if looking back at past mistakes could help our fleet tactics in the future.” Barclay paused.

“Excellent simulation, Mr. Barclay. I’ve always been more of an archeologist than a historian, but that is a fascinating field… what could have been.” He allowed himself a small smile, and glanced down into the void of artificial space, and back at Barclay, who was gone. What the hell? Picard glanced around, disoriented, and noticed almost immediately that the quality of the light had changed, though he was still surrounded by stars. The sun… It had brightened considerably, and the color was a colder white than Cardassia’s. On closer inspection, Cardassia Prime and its attendant micro-fleets were absent as well. And looking down… a chill swept through him. Directly underneath his feet were the words “U.S.S. Enterprise NCC-1701-E.”

An even greater chill shot down his spine, when an all too familiar voice said, “I was hoping I could talk to you for a moment alone, mon capitan.

Picard didn’t even have to turn around. He knew that voice anywhere, unfortunately. “Q.”

*****

Lieutenant Commander Data was staring blankly at the main screen from the captain’s chair. It was the midnight shift, so Data had relegated the functioning of the standard shift routine to a very small part of his neural net. The rest of him was preoccupied with other matters. One segment of his mind attempted to discern why Spot had recently decided that his corner display case made a better scratching post than did the actual object Data had carefully researched and replicated. Another pondered Lieutenant Barclay’s latest obsession with rewriting history on the holodeck. Still another worked out a musical composition he was creating, attempting to utilize the tempo of jazz music with the instruments popularized in the musical Rococo movements of the 22nd century.

“Barclay to Commander Data.” The interrupting voice stopped, almost as if afraid to speak.

“Data here, Lieutenant. What is it?” he said with a ring of childlike curiosity.

“Well, uh… sir, I was here in Holodeck 2 with the Captain, and he… um, disappeared.

Data cocked his head. “The Captain vanished?” Several of the bridge crew started to snicker softly, but Data silenced them with a glance. “Explain.”

“Well… I was h-here talking to the Captain, and I turned around, and when I looked back, he… well, was gone!”
Data frowned. Had Commander Riker been at the conn, Barclay would be wishing he hadn’t called. But Data wanted to make sure. “Computer. Locate Captain Picard.”
The computer bleeped, and the feminine voice replied, “Captain Picard is not on board.”

Now, the entire bridge crew was clearly shocked. Data stood, and turned to the tactical officer, a recent transfer, Lieutenant Boral. “Lieutenant, scan the entire ship for the Captain’s comm-badge.”

The blue-skinned Bolian set to his task with gusto. It took only a few seconds for the high-powered sensors of the Enterprise to find the signal. Sighing with relief, Boral reported, “Sir, I’ve found him.”

Data looked at the relieved Bolian. “Where?”
Boral adjusted the resolution of the sensors, and tweaked the display, so he could get an exact fix. When he did, his skin darkened in agitation. “Sir! The Captain! He’s outside the ship!”

Data, unlike a human would have, did not stop to ask a foolish question, but immediately demanded, “Is he wearing an environmental suit?”

Boral just shook his head. “No sir, but his life-signs are steady.”

Data determined that if the Captain were indeed still alive, a few more moments would not lower his chances of survival any. He slapped his comm-badge. “Data to the Captain.”

After a moment, Picard’s voice floated over the comm, responding to an unasked question. “I’m here Data. I’ll explain later.”

Data pondered this for a minute fraction of a second, and came to a decision. “Commander Riker to the bridge.”
After a second, Riker’s voice floated back over the open channel. “I’m on my way Data, what’s the problem?”

“Sir, Captain Picard is outside the ship.”

“What?” Riker sounded dubious. “Why is the captain on an unplanned EVA?”

Not having aquired the human habit of staring up when speaking over the shipboard comm system, Data continued watching the sensor images on the armrest console. “There was no schedueled EVA, Commander, the captain is not wearing an environmental suit, but appears to be in no danger. I must admit, I am at a loss.”

In the background, the sound of pounding feet was clearly audible. “Understood.”

Riker broke the link, and Data returned to the captain’s chair. “Lieutenant Boral, has there been any change in the Captain’s situation?”

“No sir, I think that - ” He suddenly cut off, leading Data to glance at him. “Wait a minute. He’s gone! I’m now picking him up… inside his ready room?” The Bolian sounded terribly confused.

“Lieutenant, there is no direct access between the hull and the ready-room.” Data lectured.

“I know sir, I don’t understand it either!” Boral was terribly confused. It would take him time to get adjusted to the standard weirdness that seemed to dog the Enterprise. Data simply frowned, and waited for Riker to arrive.

*****

Picard turned to face the whimsical being, a very un-captainly remark on his lips. He checked himself – as much an irritant as Q was, it was easy to forget his true abilities. Picard still could not forgive Q for those eighteen crew members who’d been killed by the Borg when he had decided that Picard wasn’t sufficiently terrified of the unknown, and had thrust the old Enterprise into their path. Turning on his heel, Picard confronted the bane of his existence, who, quite presumptuously, was attired in a Starfleet uniform with the rank pips of a captain gleaming on his collar. “Q,” Picard began, trying to salvage his temper, “Whatever game you’ve cooked up this time, I don’t want any part of it. I want you gone.”

Q drew back, and threw up his hands in mock affrontry. “Touché.” Just as quickly, he resumed his usual haughty attitude. “I’ll have you know that I have nothing but your best interestes at heart, Jean-Luc.”

Picard was spared having to roll his eyes when his comm-badge chirped.

“Data to Picard,” came the android’s voice.

The captain tapped his own badge, picturing exactly what his second officer was doing. “I’m here, Data. I’ll explain later.” He cut the link, and glared at Q. “Enough, Q. I’ll see you in my ready room.”

Q paused, and glanced around, as if just now realizing their location was anything but normal for a starship captain. He inhaled deeply, and looked back at Picard. “Oh, come now, Jean-Luc, smell the solar breezes. I never mentioned it before, but you humans don’t exactly smell like Bylian moon-flowers.”

Picard tapped his foot. “Now, Q.”

The omnipotent heaved a martyred sigh, and suddenly they were in the small ready room just off the bridge. “There, happy now?”

The scowl Picard turned on Q had melted junior officers. “Q, I won’t be happy until you are off my ship.”

Q thrust out his lower jaw at the captain, and his expression darkened. “Sutff it, Picard, this is bigger than you, bigger than your precious little Federation, and bigger than this entire trash-heap galaxy.” He ignored Picard’s silent fuming, and continued, in a lighter tone. “I’m giving you an opportunity here, Jean-Luc, so spare me your pontifications.”

“Opportunity!” Picard was incredulous. “An opportunity to be a pawn in another one of your demented games or trials?”

Q leaned in very close, and shook his head. “This is the real thing, Jean-Luc.” With a snap of his fingers, old-style military maps and charts were laid out across Picard’s desk. The captain noted with little surprise that Q himself was now decked out in a starched white uniform that would have turned Napoleon green. Picard figured the medals on Q’s chest were thick enough to serve double duty as armor.

Playing the part to the hilt, Q stuffed his right hand into his shirt, and slammed the other on the table, causing the small figurines scattered there to jump. “This is War, mon capitan.”

“War? Q, the Quadrant is at peace for the first time in more than a century!”

Q sighed gustily. “Have you learned nothing from the last time we put your scroungy little race on trial?”

“Other than that you take a perverse delight in manipulating my perceptions,” Picard snapped.

“Har har, Jean-Luc. To put it bluntly, in simple terms you can understand,” Q said, ignoring the bristling Starfleet captain, “there is more to existance than your own subatomic snippet of it.”

Picard had had enough of Q’s condescension. The arrogant being’s attitude was grating under normal circumstances, if anything involving Q could be called “normal”, but this had the makings of another one of Q’s little games. “Dammit Q, tell me why you’re here, and what the devil you’re talking about, now!” The rage came out in a rush, and Q flinched slightly.

“Yes, tell him, Q. If you’re going to toss this little ship all over the multiverse, you owe him that much at least.” The third voice cut in, and Q flinched even more sharply.

Picard blanched. The newcomer was a dark-haired woman with patrician features, and a self-centered bearing that made Q look positively humble. She had appeared in a flash of light identical to that which usually heralded one of Q’s little tricks. That suggested only one thing to Picard. Trouble.

Q fidgeted uncomfortably, which gave Picard no small amount of satisfaction. “Q, this is Jean-Luc Picard, captain of this little trinket. Picard, this is Q,” he paused significantly, “my wife.”

The idea of Q being married struck Picard as outrageously funny, and seeing her attitude, he felt one flash of pity for Q, which he quickly banished.

“Well, Q?” asked the woman, ignoring the niceties of introductions.

Q heaved another sigh. “Oh, very well.” He snapped his fingers, and his fancy uniform, the maps, and all the other trappings were consigned to the ether. “It’s like this, Picard. There are forces out there who are trying to take advantage of the Q Civil War, and its aftermath.”

“What forces would those be?” Picard asked reasonably. Then the first part of the sentance hit him. “And what’s this about a civil war?”

“Oh, that, the Continuum had a... difference of opinion, you might say. But that’s all over now.”

“Oh, you’re being much too modest, Q,” the woman said archly.

“Well, of course I am,” Q preened. “But that’s not important now. You were asking about those ‘other forces’ I mentioned?” Instead of answering Picard’s nod of confirmation, Q drew a blood-red letter “M” in the air, which hovered for a moment, and then vanished.

“Explain, Q.”

“Come now, Jean-Luc, you didn’t really think the Continuum was the only omnipotent race of beings in all the multiverse, now did you?” Without waiting for a reply, Q muttered something about “primitive little minds” to himself, then turned back to Picard. “As much as it humbles me to admit it, Picard, no, the Q Continuum is not the only omnipotent race out there, and in fact, the war to which I alluded to earlier has given our arch-rivals, the M Continuum, the opportunity they needed to run rampant across the multiverse, spreading havoc, destruction, and ruin in their wake. Oh, they’ve always gotten away with some of that, you know for the past few million years, the Q Continuum has been pretty hands-off - ”

“Present company excepted, of course,” Picard remarked drily. He ignored Q’s glare, and walking over to the chair behind his desk, sat down facing the two godlike beings.

The female Q’s attitude blasted Picard’s faint hope that other members of the Q Continuum were less irritating than Q himself, and he still found the concept of Q’s state of marital bliss (or lack thereof) quietly amusing, if in a morbid way. “So what makes this M Continuum any worse than your own, and why are you pestering me about it?”

To Picard’s surprise, it was the femal Q who answered.
“To classify the M Continuum in a way your primitive conceptions can handle, think of them as the omnipotent version of the Romulan Empire.” She cut off Picard before he could even open his mouth. “No, before you ask, that is a woefully inadequate comparison. They are ruthless, cunning, and they enjoy meddling in the affairs of less advanced species.”

Picard was tempted to make the obvious sarcastic reply, but checked himself. As if knowing what he had been thinking, both Q's scowled at him. On second though, they probably did know what he was thinking. “Q, this is all very fascinating, but what does all of this have to do with us?” Suspicion dawned in his voice. “You aren’t going to ask us to help you fight these ‘M’, are you?”

Both Q’s laughed at that snidely. “Oh, heavens no, Jean-Luc,” Q replied, still chuckling, “that would be like sending the Pakleds against the Borg.”

The female Q smirked. “We’re asking you to put out – brushfires, as it were. Setting right that which has gone wrong, and all that claptrap.” Once again interuppting Picard before he could even begin to speak, she continued, “the M Continuum, M in particular, have been raising hell in multiple planes of existence, different universes, and different periods in time. We Q are much too busy to deal with such trivialities ourselves.”

“To put it bluntly, Picard,” Q said, leaning over the desk, and right into the captain’s face, “I’m sending you off to handle the human aspect of things, defeating evil, saving the world, and all that nonsense. Your own puny little reality is safe for now, never fear.” He sneered. “Of course, if you don’t think you’re up to the challange, it’s no sweat off my nose. I’m sure I can always recruit some poor bumbling sod like Neelix to try and restore the fabric of the multiverse... although I doubt humankind would last very long in most of them.”

Picard pondered this for a moment. Granted, what happened to humanity in some other universe had no bearing on his own reality, but those people were every bit as real as he was. And the chance to explore entirely new dimensions didn’t come along every day... However, first and foremost, his responsibility lay with his own ship and crew, and his own reality. “Q,” he hedged, “If this is true, why not recruit dozens of me from other parallel universes?”

Q smiled disarmingly. “Why, mon capitan, what makes you think I’m not, right now?”

Picard was in no position to argue that, and he knew it. Evidently, so did Q.

“Alright, Jean-Luc, basically, I’m recruiting you, because what you do fundamentally affects all timelines that are similar to your own, or result from your own. So you’ll never have to save a universe identical to this one, as big an ego trip as that might be for you.”

Picard shook his head. This whole thing didn’t make much sense. But the offer was tempting, and he couldn’t deny that. Border patrols and flag-waving visits irked him, and he longed to be an explorer again – and what better unknown frontier than alternate realities and times? Starfleet could spare the Enterprise for the time being. Picard bit his lip, and glanced back up at the two Q’s. “I’ll need to speak to my senior officers, and inform Starfleet about your -”

“I knew you’d see it my way, Picard!” Q crowed.

“I didn’t say - ”

“Oh, don’t worry, Jean-Luc, I wouldn’t send you all on your lonesome.” Q glanced around. “Junior! Get in here!” he shouted at the ceiling.

Junior? Picard thought in growing horror. He had seen that Q was married, and it was only a logical leap that... a flash of white light confirmed his worst fears.

Picard had never been fond of children. He barely knew how to relate to Wesley Crusher, and Beverley’s son had been much more mature than most his age. Q’s son, well, Q’s son appeared to be a chip off the old block. Picard tried not to wince too obviously.

Q grabbed the teenaged boy around the shoulder, and pulled him towards the captain’s desk, and with clear relish, said, “Jean-Luc, I’d like you to meet my son, q. Junior, this is Captain Picard.”

The boy glared at his father, and elbowed the elder Q in the ribs. “Dad, I’m not an infant anymore.” He gave the room a once-over, and shrugged. “So this is the human you’re so interested in?” He sounded bored.

Q leaned over, and whispered something, which to Picard sounded like “he makes Aunt Kathy look positively forgiving,” and the boy gulped, and stared at Picard more closely.

Picard had finally had enough. “Q, I did not say I would go off on this little jaunt of yours. I’ll need to speak to my officers, and to Starfleet regarding your... proposal. You haven’t given me one reason why I should put my crew at risk, and deprive Starfleet of the Enterprise without even knowing how long we’ll be gone.”

“He’s right you know,” the female Q interjected.

“Oh very well, Picard, if you must know,” Q said, as if imparting a gift, “I’ve spent enough time around your little corner of the cosmos that it’s drawn M’s attention. I imagine that you in particular, Picard, would hold some interest for her. It would be better for all concerned, especially your Federation, if you were absent during this little skirmish.”

“What else, Q?” Picard still had the feeling that Q was holding something back. Something that he was certain he would not like.

Q nudged his son. “See what I told you? He’s not as limited as his tiny mortal mind would suggest.” Turning back to Picard, Q nodded grudgingly. “There is one tiny little thing. Nothing worth mentioning, really.”

Picard frowned, and Q sagged.

“I want you to take Junior along.”
“Absolutely not! Q, this is a starship, not a nursery!” The younger Q bristled, but restrained himself at Picard’s outburst.

“Oh, don’t worry, he’ll behave, this time.” The female Q shot her son a warning glance, and he flushed and looked away.

Q looked around happily. “Then it’s all settled.” Seeing Picard’s expression, he amended, “but of course, you can confer with all your little friends first.”

Without waiting for a reply, Q and his wife vanished, leaving Junior still standing in Picard’s ready room. Worse, Picard knew that if Junior displayed any of the abilities of his father and mother, if he wanted to stay, he was going to, whether Picard or anyone else wanted him to. Resigning himself to having the boy aboard for the time being, he tapped the comm-badge on his chest as he rose from his chair. “Senior officers to the conference room.” He severed the link, and reaching over to the skulking young Q, plucked the shiny rank pips off his collar. Expecting a fight over that indignity, Picard was surprised when the boy simply shrugged. Not daring to hope that Q’s son would prove more mature than his father, Picard stepped onto the bridge, where the crew fixed him with curious stares.

Riker, who had since taken command of the bridge, stood from the center chair, and walked over to his captain.
Picard held up a hand, and simply said quietly, “I’ll explain in a few minutes, Will.”

Riker nodded understandingly, and flicked a questioning gaze to the teenager standing behind Picard.

“Ensign Jonas,” Picard said louder, to a security officer hovering near the aft turbolift, “Assign our... guest some quarters.”

Even as the security officer left the bridge, Picard led the way into the conference room. He had a lot of explaining to do.

[OmegaPaladin]

Nice.

[WarriorclanX]

hmm very interesting i liked it.

[Meester Bond]

All that script analysis of ST eps really paid off E1701. Your portrayal of Q was spot on

[Admiral Valdemar]

I think E1701 should evolve into Q for payment.

(I feel silly today...)

[Slayen]

Very nice. I hope that the rest proves to be as good.

[E1701]

Thanks for the comments, folks. If you have any ideas or criticisms, feel free, I'm looking to improve this overall.

Here's the second chapter, at any rate.


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Chapter 2:

“I don’t like this, Captain,” said Will Riker, as he scratched his stubbled chin. Data’s call had caught him in his quarters, and he hadn’t had a chance to shave yet. “This sounds too much like Q is testing us again.”

Picard nodded. “I’m tempted to agree with you there, Number One.” Then he frowned. “But something’s different this time. Call it a hunch.”

“If I may,” Data said, getting a nod from Picard, “I have been considering what you have told us, Captain. If we are to assume that Q is telling the truth in this matter, I believe that we should indeed undertake this mission.”

“That’s a mighty big ‘if’, Data,” Riker cautioned.

“How did you come to that conclusion, Mr. Data?” Picard asked, geniunely curious. He had found from previous experience that Data’s counsel was often wiser than his demeaner suggested. However, for the life of him, Picard could not understand the reasoning behind the android’s confident recommendation to take Q at his word.

“Now wait a second!” The young Q jumped up from the corner seat where he’d been sulkily slinging a yo-yo across the ceiling, over the table, and in complicated loops around his head. “Dad was telling the truth! The M really are starting a war.” He gulped with all eyes focused on him, but pressed ahead. “I saw some of it myself. The M were manipulating things during key events in dozens of realities!”

Data pondered this outburst for a moment, then nodded. “Captain, this information confirms my theory. I believe these ‘M’ are travelling to critical moments in the histories of many of these realities, and are changing their outcomes.”

“But how does this affect us?”

“If events in critical periods are altered, it will result in a chain-reaction in every resultant universe generated following those events.” Data paused significantly. “That could potentially include our own.”

Riker shook his head. “Data, that’s all still based on Q’s word.” He snorted, and added, “for all we know, Junior here could just be Q in another guise. I wouldn’t put it beyond him to be able to appear in three places at once in different forms.”

Picard had to acknowledge that possibility, and said so. “I don’t think so, though, Number One.” Picard qualified. “This isn’t Q’s style, and I saw the three Q’s interacting far too believably to be another of Q’s tricks. That aside, the last few times he put us on trial, he did not ask us to participate.”

Riker only grunted in response, clearly not willing to give Q the benefit of the doubt.

Picard glanced around the table at the faces of his trusted officers and friends. “The question now becomes whether we trust Q enough to act on his word alone.”

Geordi LaForge leaned across the big table, a concerned look written on his features. “Captain, if Data’s analysis is right,” said the soft-spoken engineer, “the longer we delay, the more likely that something will be affected enough to jeopardize our own reality.” He sighed. “I don’t trust Q any more than the rest of you, but on the chance he is telling the truth – can we afford to not act?”

That held enough truth to sting, and even Riker held his tongue.

“Very well then,” Picard said pointedly, locking his gaze on Q’s son, who squirmed under the attention. “Now what information do you have regarding this venture?”

“Like just how we’d go about doing it,” Geordi said.

“Dad didn’t tell me much,” Junior admitted slowly, “but he did say that the main reason I’m here is to actually transport you around the multiverse... and to keep out of his hair when the other shoe drops,” he finished with a hint of resentment in his voice. Before Riker could voice his displeasure at this particular tidbit, the boy continued speaking. “But I do know that we can recruit help from any of the places we visit.” He chewed his lip thoughtfully. “Dad left me with only a list of places that need our help, and people who we need to watch out for.”

“We? Our?” Geordi muttered under his breath.

The boy shrugged defensively. “I’m stuck with this little mission same as you. I’m not as omniscient as Dad just yet, and I’ve only visited a few of these realities myself, so that’s all I know.”

Riker’s glower could have liquified hull plating.

Then a shrill whistle cut through the tension in the conference room. “Captain,” came Lieutenant Boral’s voice from the bridge, “we’ve picked up an incoming Federation warp signature.

Picard frowned. Patrols along the Romulan Neutral Zone seldom allowed for chance meetings between starships.
Given the circumstances, he rather doubted it was anything so kindly as chance. “Understood,” he said.

“Thank you all for your input. I’ve made my decision.” Picard let out a pent up breath. “We’ll do it.” He looked over at his executive officer. “I know how you feel, Will, but if this is a test, he’ll go about it regardless of what we do. But if Q was telling the truth...” He let the sentance hang there, and strode out on to the bridge.

“Captain on the bridge!” Boral barked, snapping to attention.

Picard walked over to his command seat, and felt Riker moving in behind him to take his own place on the bridge. “Report.”

Boral glanced briefly at his tactical display. “It’s a Defiant-class ship. In fact, it’s the Defiant herself.” Then something chimed on his console. “And she’s hailing us, sir,” he amended.

“On screen.”

The starfield on the screen was abruptly replaced by a grim, yet very familiar, visage.

“Mr. Worf, this is a surprise.” Picard allowed himself a smile at the welcome reappearance of his former security officer. In the background of Defiant’s bridge, Picard could make out several other members of the staff of Deep Space Nine, including Ensign Nog and Julian Bashir.

Onscreen, Worf nodded, and acknowledged, “Captain.”

“Without being too blunt, Commander, what brings you here? Shouldn't you be on Qo'Nos?”

Worf scowled, but not at any of them, Picard realized. “At Chancellor Martok’s request, I had been overseeing Federation-Klingon interests, mostly the post-war relations with Bajor. Two days ago Q made an appeareance on Deep Space Nine. He made an... interesting proposition to Colonel Kira, and suggested we investigate his claims.” Worf’s deep bass growl demonstrated exactly what he thought of following Q up on anything. “The situation at Bajor has moved into politics,” Worf nearly spat the word, “so she felt detatching the Defiant for the time being would not present any problems. As you know, my commission with Starfleet is still active, so I immediately resigned my position with Martok, and rejoined Starfleet for the duration.”

Picard blinked at the matter-of-fact way Worf imparted these details.

"These were the coordinates we were given by Q,” Worf concluded.

“Curiouser and curiouser,” Picard murmured. “We were also contacted moments ago by Q, Mr. Worf. He explained the situation to us much as I imagine he did to you. I’d like to hear your opinion on the matter.”

Worf shrugged his massive shoulders. “I do not trust Q, sir. I would advise against playing into his hands, but Colonel Kira felt that in the event Q was telling the truth, we had an obligation to follow it up.” His grimace projected exactly how he felt in that regard.
“We have come to the same conclusion, Mr. Worf,” Picard responded, watching his friend’s face fall. “We don’t trust Q either, but in this case, we can’t afford not to investigate.”

Worf nodded glumly. “Aye sir, I had a feeling you would say that.” He paused, and added, “But we will acompany you.”

Picard quirked a genuine smile at that. “And I had a feeling you would say that, Mr. Worf. I’ve never known you to back down from a challange.” Both of them flashed back on the painful incident between them during the fight with the Borg. Picard swore to himself that he’d never allow himself to lose control that way again.

Snapping himself out of it, he looked over at the young Q sitting on the edge of a console, swinging his feet, and the boy jumped down, abashed. Picard’s eyebrow rose involuntarily. It seemed that Q hadn’t yet instilled all the wrong values in his son. “It’s your show now, Junior.”

The boy chewed his lip in concentration. “I think I know where to start,” he said. “I’ve only been there a few times, but that’s more than I’ve seen of most of them.” He snapped his fingers, and a hole simply opened in space. It opened onto another starfield, but the Enterprise’s sensors overlayed the swirling energies that composed the edges of the opening onto the image on the viewscreen.

Data looked up from his console. “Captain, the phenomena does appear to be a transdimensional gateway. The matter on the other side appears to have a deviant quantum signiture.”

“Captain, it shouldn’t have any adverse effects on our engines or warp field,” Geordi reported from the aft engineering console, “so near as I can tell, it’s safe.”

“Once more unto the breach,” Picard breathed. “Helm, forward one-quarter impulse.” He waited a moment, then gestured towards the vortex with his usual movement. “Engage.”

[Slayen]

Well, i don't know art, but i know what i like. And this i really like This thing has a lot of potential. Keep it up.

[Eagle One]

Excellent work. Keep it up!

[LoSt ByTeS]

Its got great potential.

[Meester Bond]

That's great E. The first fanfic I've seen in quite a while that I was able to read through without thinking once "No, [character] wouldn't say that."

Keep it up

[Dark Primus]

Looking forward to read chapter three. Good job.

[E1701]

Hehe, thanks guys. Chapter 3's a little unpolished yet, but it may be a few days before I have time to finish Chapter 4, so here it is.


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


Chapter 3:

Captain’s Log, Stardate 5373.8: It has been two days since we entered this dimension, and rather disturbingly, we have picked up no sign of any subspace comm-traffic or warp signatures, in an area that in our own universe is a hub of activity. Q’s son, whom for lack of a better name, we continue to call ‘Junior’, has not been forthcoming with information, but suggested we proceed to the Epsilon Eridani system, the home of planet Vulcan. Junior himself is interesting, and could occupy Starfleet psychologists for decades. Fortunately for our sanity and Mr. Worf’s patience, the boy does not share most of his father’s less redeeming qualities. Counselor Troi cannot read Junior’s emotional state, but she has been trying to discern where he learned not to treat human beings like lab rats, as his father is wont to do. Perhaps we’ll finally get some answers when we reach our destination.

Picard took a deep sip of his Earl Grey, and rotated his chair away from the terminal where he’d just entered his log entry to stare out the window at the stars racing past. He had been reading up on previous encounters starships had had with other dimensions, and realized that out of all of them, none were truly different in any fundamental way. James Kirk had been the first to encounter the so-called Mirror Universe, and that was still the most divergent known to Starfleet. Chief O’Brien and Worf had filled him in with their own accounts of that particular reality, and he was glad he’d never had the misfortune to see it himself. At that thought, Picard smiled sadly. Based on the personality of the Kirk he’d met in the Nexus, he could imagine that the legendary captain would have loved this kind of adventure. But that was neither here nor there, he reminded himself sternly. There was also the time Worf had gone reality-skipping, but the big Klingon wouldn’t speak much about that. In that case too, Picard remembered, when the quantum barriers had broken down, all of the ships that had appeared were all variations on the Enterprise, most of which were probably identical to his own in everything but minor details. The most extreme divergence there had been a reality where the Borg had taken over, led by himself - no, Locutus, he snapped mentally. He hadn’t had any choice in the matter.

His ruminations were interupted by the door chime. He hoped he hadn’t been ignoring it long. “Enter,” he said, as he turned toward the door, and reflexively tugged the hem of his uniform.

Deanna Troi breezed into the room looking as composed as ever, even when the very foundations of reality were no longer quite as solid as they had seemed a few days ago.

“Ah, Counselor, what can I do for you?” Picard asked, gesturing her towards the small sofa across from his desk.

“I was about to ask you the same question, Captain,” she said with a sparkle of humor in her expressive eyes. She took the proffered seat and tucked an errant strand of raven hair back behind her ear. Even to a half-Betazoid, the captain’s forceful emotions stood out above the general background of the rest of the crew, even Data’s sometimes erratic moods. After a moment of studied silence, she asked, “Would you like to talk about it?”

Picard favored her with a sour look. “I don’t know if I’ve done the right thing, Deanna,” he finally admitted. “No, strike that, I do know that this is the right thing. But what happens when something goes wrong because of my decision? I’m risking the lives of everyone aboard both ships for the sake of people who don’t even exist in our reality.”

“Captain, there are some among the crew who disagree with your decision, and others who support it fully. But all of them trust you implicitly,” Troi said with an erneastness that surprised Picard. “Whatever decisions you do make, and whatever the consequences, they understand that, even if you do not.”

Picard was touched by Deanna’s concern for him, but he shook his head. It wasn’t that simple. “Counselor, I’ve tried to obey the Prime Directive whenever possible, unless my conscience dictated otherwise, and sometimes even then.” He sighed, and said, “Do we really have any right to change the course of history for these people? We could end up causing a greater disaster through a misguided effort to help than could be caused otherwise.”

Troi recognized that the captain was using her as a sounding board while he worked through the termoil of his thoughts. She smiled slightly and sat back on the couch. Sometimes, simply listening was all that was required.

“If we are to take Q at face value,” Picard was saying, “for all we know, these M could simply nudge events slightly, and allow our own overcompensation to do the damage for them. And how the devil do we know what is the proper course of events in these realities in the first place?”

“Riker to Captain Picard.” The sudden interuption shattered Picard’s reverie, and he relaxed enough to shoot a tight smile at Troi.

“What is it, Number One?” Picard asked, involuntarily glancing up at the ceiling.

“Captain, we’ve reached the Epsilon Eridani system.”

A glance out the window showed that they had dropped out of warp. But something in Riker’s voice told Picard that his first officer had been shaken by something. Of course, Picard had to admit to himself, he knew his first officer well enough to detect any crack in his usual impreturbability. From the expression on her face, Picard could tell that Troi had heard the same thing. “On my way.”

As soon as Picard stepped out of the ready room, Riker stood and relinquished the center seat. At the same moment, Data emerged from the aft turbolift and relieved the ensign stationed at the Ops console. His fingers were flying across the board before he’d even sat down.

“Report, Number One,” Picard said, settling into his chair.

Riker sat back in his own chair to Picard’s right, and called up a display on the captain’s armrest screen. “We’ve taken up a position in the system’s Oort Cloud. I figured that if everything was normal, so to speak, we’d be hailed by Vulcan Space Central.”

“Good thinking, Number One,” Picard replied approvingly.

Riker’s expression didn’t clear at the compliment. “There’s a problem though. As far as we can tell, Captain, there is no planet Vulcan here.”

“What? Do you mean that the planet never existed?”

Data looked up from his console, and shook his head. “No sir, Epsilon Eridani I and II, planets Vulcan and T’Kut, are still present, but from this distance, we can detect no life-signs on their surfaces, nor any evidence of a technological civilization on those planets.”

Picard shivered slightly. The possibility of pure non-existence in one of these parallel universes had occurred to him, but the reality of it was terrifying. A look around the bridge at the crewmen there, a tense look, haunted gaze, or involuntary twitch, even from Data, showed him that they felt the same way.

But he had caught the phrasing in Data’s statement, and decided to call him on it. “Mr. Data, ‘those planets’ could be taken to mean that you have found something elsewhere.”

Data cocked his head at Picard, expression neutral, but tinged with scientific curiousity. “Indeed, Captain. There is an artificial construct in high orbit of the third planet in the system, of unknown configuration.”

Picard felt the familiar thrill of discovery at that news. It had been too long since he last experienced that heady feeling, and it made him feel as young as if he were back on the Ba’ku planet.

“However,” Data continued, brow furrowed, “the planet itself is exhibiting unusual characterisitics. It appears to be blocking our sensor scans.”

Riker looked up at that. “Could it be natural?”

“I do not believe so, sir. The surface is lifeless, and the surface composition not unusual, but at this distance, I cannot be certain.”

“Then we’re just going to have to get closer,” Picard said firmly. “Mr. Data, is there any sign that they’ve detected our presence?”

“Negative, sir. There is a good deal of traffic in the immediate vecinity of the space station, but it has not changed since we dropped out of warp.”

Picard nodded perfunctorily. “Very good, Mr. Data.” He turned to look at his trusted first officer. “We don’t know what the limit of their sensor range is, but I want to get a feel for the water before I dive in. To that end, perhaps this is a golden opportunity for one of the only ships in Starfleet with a cloaking device.”

Will Riker involuntarily flinched at that unfortunate reminder of the Pegasus incident. It had taken him a long time to regain the captain’s complete faith in him after that. Out loud he said, “Agreed sir, I’ll take an away team to the Defiant, and try to get onto that station.”

“Belay that.” Picard saw Riker’s stung expression, and continued softly, “I need you in command here, Will. It was my decision to get us into this in the first place, and I intend to take the first risk myself.”

Riker was clearly unhappy with that. It was his duty to protect the captain, and to make sure he didn’t take exactly the sort of risk he was taking right now. But if Picard was insistant on going himself, there wasn’t much Riker could reasonably do to stop him. He nodded mutely.

“Lieutenant Boral, hail the Defiant.” Picard commanded.

Almost instantly, the viewscreen jumped to the Defiant’s bridge, where Worf was seated at the center chair, looking so much a part of the chair, Picard would not have been surprised to learn that Worf had not left it since they’d come through the portal.

“Captain.” The word was both greeting and acknowledgement. Picard had the feeling that Worf already knew what he was thinking, and had already figured it out for himself.

“Mr. Worf,” Picard said by way of preamble, “I’d like permission to come aboard. I have an idea, and I’d like your input...”

*****

Gazing into the organized madness around him, Doctor Julian Bashir surveyed the transporter room aboard Defiant. In particular, he studied the teenaged boy Captain Picard had introduced as the son of Q. He didn’t know quite what to think of that, but, the possibilities were incredible. He hoped to get the chance to speak to Junior at a later date. From what he’d been able to squeeze out of Miles on the subject when Q and Vash had made their appearence on DS9 a few years earlier, he’d understood that Q had not had a mate, at least that the Chief knew of, during their original encounter on the Farpoint mission. And the Q he himself had seen cavorting with Vash on the Promenade didn’t seem like someone with a wife back home to worry about. Bashir sighed, but right now, there were more immediate concerns.

The past few hours had been bedlam, after two days of monotonous cruising, but it seemed to be coming to a head now. The Defiant had warped in-system under cloak, and now sat in a very high orbit over Epsilon Eridani. So far, there was no indication that they’d been detected, and Julian took that as a hopeful sign.
The other members of the away team, excepting Captain Picard, were already gathered near the transporter pads.

All had been carefully selected by Picard and Worf, who had decided that the better course of valor in this situation was to infiltrate the station, and learn what they could there. Julian could just imagine Worf’s reaction to that idea, which almost certainly originated with Captain Picard. In some ways, he sympathized with Worf, especially so when he looked down at the slightly frayed, worn civilian clothes he and the other members of the away team were wearing. The cloth was in several equally dull shades of brown, black, and grey, and it itched terribly. A small leather satchel at his side held an even smaller Starfleet med-kit, and a medical tricorder. With any luck, those wouldn’t have to come out.

Commander Data, back on Enterprise, had rather quickly determined that the station had been constructed, and was operated by, humans, even though they had not picked up any message traffic at all to confirm that, until the Defiant had gotten much closer. Some of the smaller shuttles in the area were marked with an emblem that combined the English letters “E” and “A”, which Data calculated would be improbable for a non-human race to develop on its own. The hull composition of those shuttles were very similar to that of the station, and quite different from that of some of the more exoticly designed ships that hovered nearby. Additionally, when they had closed the distance, and were approaching the position where they now lay, only five thousand kilometers distant, Ezri had focused Defiant’s sensors on a window at the fore of the station. That had gotten them a clear visual of what was obviously the station’s command center, and the beings inside were unmistakably human. By that time, however, the point had become moot, when they finally began picking up short-range transmissions, that confirmed the station as human-operated, although it clearly served as a layover for both human and non-human vessels.

Julian had to admit to himself that the station was beautiful, more so than the spidery Cardassian design of Deep Space Nine. This station was as big, maybe bigger than the massive spool of Spacedock, in orbit of Earth in his own dimension, at just over eight kilometers in length. It was composed of a gigantic blue paneled cylinder that rotated within the confines of a vast grey superstructure that ran across its top, suspending six triangular solar panels on each side. The front end of the cylinder tapered into a form reminiscent of the onion domes of ancient Middle Eastern architecture. It was a strangely appropriate shape for a place that was named Babylon 5, according to the communications traffic they’d intercepted.

Bashir started when he felt a hand on his arm. He’d been more deeply in thought than he’d realized. Ezri Dax sidled up to him, and gripped his arm reassuringly. For which of them it was meant to be more reassuring, he couldn’t say.

“Ezri, I’m quite capable of taking care of myself, you know,” he said lightly.

She rolled her eyes at him, but grinned mischieviously. “What about last week in the Promenade, when you - ”

“I was in complete control then,” Julian said defensively.

Ezri Dax’s eyes sparkled with humor. “Julian, you had two broken ribs,”

“Three, actually.”

She rolled her eyes again. “Three ribs then, and if I hadn’t got you out of the way...”

Bashir grinned impishly. “So how was I supposed to know that Morn had a phobia of tribbles?”

“Phobia?” she snorted, “Julian, he hit you with a barstool and ran away screaming.” She pursed her lips. “On second thought, that annoyed Quark, so maybe it was worth it after all,” she said, laughing.

Her laugh was infectious, and Bashir found himself joining her, even though at the time, he found the incident to be somewhat less amusing.

When Captain Picard, Worf, and Junior entered a moment later, Julian found that his own mood was so improved, that he contentedly threw his arm protectively around Ezri’s shoulders. He knew the gesture was pointless – Ezri had some 900 years of memories and combat experiences hiding behind that smile he knew so well, including Jadzia’s more Klingon attributes. She hardly needed his protection. But it was an instinctive movement, and Ezri snuggled into his side.

Captain Picard projected an aura of leadership even wearing the scruffy civilian outfit that had seen better days, or rather, being replicated, merely looked as if it had. The chatter in the room died away, and everyone backed up against the walls, to give Picard some room. He said nothing for a moment, merely looking around at the other members of the away team, who were similarly attired, and at the heavily armed security people, who were on standby in case something went wrong.

The away team selection had been a careful choice. A smaller team might have been safer, but it may not have been, either, so the team was diverse enough to learn as much as possible. Captain Picard himself, of course, although he was going under the guise of a free-lance archeologist named Galen. The way he easily adapted to having his junior officers call him that suggested that the identity was not new to him. Geordi LaForge and Data, who Julian had met before on the old Enterprise, an assistant engineer named Barclay, Counselor Troi, and himself, composed the rest of the team. Picard had had to choose the most human looking of his officers, and though the disguises were not perfect, they would have to suffice. Geordi would simply have to avoid allowing anyone a good look at his eyes, and Data’s garb included a face-obscuring hood. Bashir thought he looked like a strange monk.

For a moment, Picard looked as if he were about to impart some timeless wisdom, or something similarly impressive.

Instead, the captain turned to the young Q. “Junior, you said you had some last-minute advice for everyone?”

Abruptly, Bashir noticed that Junior was still wearing his Starfleet uniform. Apparently the captain had decided not to bring him along, despite his knowledge of the place, for which Julian was perversely relieved.

The boy nodded. “I’ve been here before, so I know what I’m talking about,” he began with a hint of challange in his voice. Julian realized again that for all his powers, Junior was still an insecure teenager. “We went over the highlights in the briefing, but remember, no weapons, not even knives, and don’t act too much like tourists. The less attention you draw, the better.”

He reached up, and pulled a pack of cards out of the air. He handed one to each member of the away team, and said, “These things are your indenticards. Don’t lose ‘em, you’ll need them to get through security.”

Bashir looked at his, and found the likeness of his image on the card to be unflattering. Ezri must guessed what he was thinking, and gently elbowed him in the ribs. He grunted sheepishly, wishing once again that she’d be coming along too, instead of staying on the Defiant running scans. He tucked his card into his satchel.

Picard stepped onto the transporter platform, and the others began to file on behind him. Julian quickly embraced Ezri, and caught her upturned lips with his.

A clearing throat, and then, “Doctor, are you planning on joining us sometime?”

Julian flushed red and bolted for the pad, leaving Ezri laughing behind him.

Picard smiled, and turned to the transporter operator. “Energize.”

[Uraniun235]

This is great material, E... I love it. Write more.

DO SO NOW.

[Meester Bond]

Originally posted by Uraniun235
This is great material, E... I love it. Write more.

DO SO NOW.

Agreed

This is the third compliment in a row now E. If I don't respond, just assume that it's all great

[anheg]

great work ...excellent stuff in fact!

[Slacker]

Dude, this is really good stuff. Keep it up.

[Chris O'Farrell]

f*(k this rocks! More!!!

[Admiral Valdemar]

Oh I geddit, because li'l ol' Valdy has been bogged down with work and unable to do more of his story now is the time to defect to superior Trek writings?

Curses to ye and may a thousand monkeys with typewriters attack you.

(Good stuff though )

[Erinyes]

I am quite capable of processing more than one kickass story . Now both of you, get back to writing!!! Schnell, schnell!!

[His Divine Shadow]

Nice work, though I thought you said it was a ST vs. SW fanfic?
Though the inclusion of B5 is not bad IMO, or have you changed it completely to a ST vs. B5 fanfic?

[Adrian Tullberg]

Engaging, leading into a good epic ...

Considered posting to FanFiction.Net?

[Es Arkajae]

Its like theres a movie in my head and you're all invited ....can't wait until Sheridan comes across the Prime Directive

[E1701]

AV: No excuses, back to the gulag for you. Keep writing! Rapido!


HDS: No, this started out as an ST vs SW fic - ran about 9 pages, but was chock full of the same forced methodology that I don't like about most VS fanfics, so I wiped all but the first two pages, and started over with some revisions. All else will become clear in time.


Adrian: Maybe when I get farther in. I've got two more works in progress on there, but the first was a blatent rip-off, and the second got me stuck in a writer's block because I developed the characters badly. I'm writing a fanfic here because the characters are known quantities - if I can write them, it'll help me writing my own.

[[BL]Phalanx]

OMG this kicks so much ass! The way you introduced B5 was sweet. Hey E1701... I have a suspicion that we're going to run into "characters" that look mighty similar to each other in both universes. Remember all those actors both series shared? LOL.