By: Gladiator

Fighting for survival around a world with the darkest of powers provided for a gruesomely detestable form of entertainment betwixt the Robotech Defense Force and SDF-3, The Federation's Enterprise-A, and D, Innersphere jump and support ships, The Clans, Imperials, Zentraedi battle cruisers, and now, the mighty, all encompassing OCTORG armada.  The frightful semblance of evil surrounded the forces of good and ravished space as established geometric and physical laws of order and stability in this pocket of the universe collapsed and were forgotten.

  Lasers began to strike out and any view through a portal would have been blinding from the intense light beams.  Only on infra red scopes could the brightness of countless rays be scene bending through space due to the massive gravity envelope created by the near infinite number of ships orbiting Twycross.  Yet still, they all found targets, creating further fires and explosions, leading to more and more desecrated ships and doom to all. 

  Khyron was gleeful; completely mad with the delusions of Cthulhu’s mental projections...  and of course the joys of war.

  The order was given; the immense firepower of millions of Zentraedi battle cruisers opened fire…. Blasting away at anything in front of them…luckily for the Rebels… the Octorg fleet dwarfed even the massive Zentraedi, and their shear numbers made them the first targets. 

  Several Star Destroyers were caught up in the horrific light duel however, and the vastness of the converging space fleets spelled certain death in this unnamed vacuum of space/time.  In the eyes of Grand Moff Andara of the Eclipse, something needed to be done.

  The hologram of Grand Admiral Thrawn appeared on the console in front of Andara.

  “Quit loathing in these acts of madness.  We need to cut our losses and move the fleet away from here.”

  Thrawn did not answer.  His head was bowed and was in an almost catatonic state.

  “Admiral!” Andara commanded.  He had had enough of Thrawn and the Emperor's mystic notions.... in circumstances such as these, now was not the time to be concentrating on some unseen Force!  He didn't think Thrawn gave into the nonsense.

  The image of Thrawn looked up. 

  “Very well.”

  “We need a diversion.  How are the repairs coming along on the Eclipse main gun?”

  “My techs tell me if she fires again the ship may suffer irreparable dama...”

  “Fire it!” Thrawn interjected before Andara could finish.

  “At what target?” Andara mused.

  Thrawn punched up a schematic hologram of revolving Twycross.

  “That planet!  Maximum Firepower!”

   “We still have troops on the surface!”

  “Who is in command here Admiral…Fire that weapon!” Thrawn shrewdly applied his authority.

 The Imperial fleet began to move off as an unhindered bolt of energy stronger than that of a fusion detonation was directed at the center of Twycross…and bore into is very core.

  The beam impacted the largest mountain range, and pancaked it into a flattened plateau before incinerating millions of tons of earth and throwing tons more into the air.  Surface crust across the entire globe was breaking apart.  The Quake would have been well over 100 if it could even have been measured by old time standards.  Lava flows plumed up into the blackened atmosphere.  On the far side of the planet, oceans were completely vaporized and super heated steam began venting into space.  In other areas, the shocks and jolts made maneuverability almost impossible….  Especially for those inside the canyon. 

  ON THE PLANET, Wallart's Company was at an impasse.

  The massive bay doors of the GMU were in sight, but many of the Zentraedi powered armor units were still blocking their path.  If they engaged the Zentraedi in their mech's current condition they probably wouldn’t survive, but if they stayed on the planet any longer they assuredly wouldn’t either.

  “Who wants to live forever...” 

  “CCCCCHHHHHHHAAAAARGE...UHAHAAAAAAAAAAA!” the battle cry rang though out the comm-links as every battlemech triggered all their weapons at the same time. 

  In just a matter of seconds they pummeled and pushed through the Zentraedi lines, Wallart plowing over one them in his Atlas.  They flew by their enemies without engaging them a second time, channeling all power and heat towards increasing their respective mech's top speed. 

  In spite of the horrendous gravitational and temporal fluctuations emanating from Twycross, one of the Veritechs flew close ground support like an Iron Eagle, laying cover fire and clearing a path towards the GMU through the Zentraedi mecha.  Right past the enemy battle pods, and into the docking bays they went…and with the growing turmoil of the planet's breakup, the Zentraedi seemed overwhelmed figuring out what was even happening. 

  The Phoenix Hawk took a back shot just short of the doorway on the gangplank however, and went down.  Victor hit the eject button, and attempting to navigate a collision course aimed his escape pod into the GMU.  The pod flew through the great maw that made up its drop ramp and slammed Victor's cockpit into the far inside wall of the bay.  The concussion knocked him unconscious, but he was alive, and he made it...  along with the rest of the company.  With any luck they'd still be able to repair the damaged mech.

  The GMU dusted off, and began to ascend skyward while fighting the random gravity pockets from the planet's breakup.  The pilot set a roundevouz course with the SDF-3...  which of course had its own share of problems…

  Admiral Hunter blasted a hand rifle into another of the Octorg Deep Ones as it beamed onto the SDF-3... the slithering ooze dripping from wounds in their metallic borglike-half ape-reptilian bodies coating the floor like an oil slick.  Many of the gashes threw up in disgust as a stench was overwhelming the bridge like that of Dead Fish.  

  Even as limbs were continuously being blown from the intruders, the growing mass of gnarled beings began regenerating, and in fact the dilapidated parts moved again on their own, writhing and slinking towards some of the cowering RDF crew, callous prey for some horribly unpleasant death. 

  On the Enterprise-D Luke could sense mental communication with the Force...  It was his friend Indiana Jones.  Through a distant universe and timeless past, Indy was trying to contact him.  If they all didn’t make it here in the face-off with the Octorg, perhaps Indy could change the past and influence their future.  He closed his eyes, oblivious to the Octorg entities materializing on the Enterprise-D and their ensuing battle with the Imperial Stormtroopers.  Through a mental link he directed his thoughts and Indy began perceiving Luke’s images, as well as a bleed through of the dreadful, horrifying, nearly intolerable thing that was Cthulhu.

  The Enterprise NCC1701-A lurched as the shockwave from Twycross hit it.  The crew was thrown about, and much of the hull on the lower levels buckled.

  Life support, offline, the computer emotionlessly announced.

  “Engineering,” Kirk yelled into his chair arm.  “Scotty we need power for life support!” 

  “Target Brownstorg on that lead ship!  Hit em with everything we’ve got!!” Kirk addressed anyone who could hear him on the bridge as many were doubled over with sickness and sheer agony over the perilous moment upon them all.

  Great Octorg Cthulhu’s thunderous timbre and strangely harmonic tone boomed throughout the speakers of the Enterprise bridge as it fed on the fear it created.

  “K I R K!”

  “Fascinating...” Kirk heard Spock say before seeing the Vulcan clench down tight on his teeth, part of his tongue cutting off and flopping to the deck.  Quickly his pale face regained some composure, and he finished his sentence blood flowing down his mouth and chin.  “eay ‘ow you bi amee Cap’e...”

  Kirk's human intuition started doing summersaults as he thought to himself.  They didn't have much time.  What were they even doing here?  What was the driving force that brought the ship here in the first place?  What started all this and why specifically did it want him?

  The answer came.

  Hyuj’s box!

  Cthulhu must want the box! 

  But he didn’t have it.

  To his recollection, none of the ships warring here did.  No one even knew where it was...it disappeared along with The Regula II Station.... That was the precursor to the dream of Cthulhu... he recalled the events in his head again on the lost world...  the monolith, the Sleestack hybrids... the writing, prancing, barking, baying…  he was loosing control, feeling angry, helpless...He bit into his arm...tearing away a chunk of flesh.  The instant pain brought him back to his senses. 

  “Don’t lose your head…Don’t lose…your…head..." he told himself over and over not wanting to succumb to the madness encompassing his bridge and torturing his living essence.

  There are always alternatives.... Kirk recalled the wise saying from his first officer...

  We've got to find Hyuj!  Before it's too late!!!

  The blasphemous mechanical voice that was Cthulhu boomed over the speakers again… its deafening roar could be felt reverberating in his ears, and threatened to overwhelm him and the entire crew.

  Even now other parts of the ship were being overtaken as Octorg troopers methodically infiltrated the Enterprise decks, and added more helpless souls to the great hive mind.

  “Muuhhhahahaahaaaa!” Borged Moe Eskie leered on the viewscreen laughing unremorsefully at the misfortunate Captain and his condemned Enterprise...