By: Deathstrike

The Octorg fleet's immense gravity well was beginning to disrupt the orbital integrity of the solar system.  Torn between the sun and the vastly greater mass of the cyborg-things' armada, the asteroid cloud once known as Twycross began to disperse, stretching away in different directions like fingers on a hand. 

Zentraedi warships dodged through the debris and fired incessantly at the massive Octorg ships.  Their missiles and lasers blazed across space only to dissipate harmlessly upon the enemy shields, for the Octorg had adapted to the robotech weaponry almost instantly.  The genetically engineered giants, bred for the sole purpose of combat, attacked with all their fury...but to no avail.  Their mile-long battleships were blown apart in spectacular explosions as hundreds of millions of Octorg weapons blasted into them.  Inner Sphere and Clan jumpships and dropships careened in every direction.  Some were being boarded and assimilated, others were simply targeted and destroyed.

Grand Admiral Thrawn, aboard the Eclipse, stared tensely at the bridge viewscreen, watching the Octorg obliterating the mix of vessels which only moments earlier he would have called "huge".  It's interesting how quickly perceptions can change, he thought quickly.  A minute ago, a massive fleet...now, fodder.

Keying rapidly into his command computer, Thrawn ordered the Interdictor Cruiser Backlash to jump to hyperspace at specific coordinates and engage its gravity well generator. 

"Sir..." Lt. Pierce said hesitantly, "that course will take them right into the enemy fleet.  They'll be destroyed on impact...and if that doesn't do it, engaging the gravity well will."

"I'm aware of that Lt. We need a clear path out through the fleet before we can jump to lightspeed and save the Emperor."

Thrawn resumed calculating, pushing his formidable mind to its limit...estimating, manipulating numbers and kilotons and distances.  He punched in an incredibly complex series of maneuvers and hyperspace jumps, ordering all of the ships left in the Imperial fleet into formation...aiming them at the point where the surrounding Octorg fleet's numbers were thinnest...the spot where they were 2 light years thick. 

"NOW!" The Interdictor cruiser Backlash went into lightspeed and engaged its gravity well generator, multiplying the ship's mass to that of a planet.  Billions of kilotons of mass accelerated to supraliminal velocity smashed into the immense sphere of Octorg ships, destroying the vessel and blowing a hole as thick as a sun and millions of kilometers deep. 

In another second, the Interdictor cruiser Riptide followed suit, widening the hole and driving it millions more kilometers through the horde.  More ships jumped in sequence, until they had opened a tunnel out into empty space again.  The Eclipse jumped, along with the Vindicator and the remaining Imperial fleet.  Until the Emperor was healed, Thrawn would play a cat and mouse game with this horrible new enemy. 

The rebel fleet saw the opening and jumped as well.  Some of the last ships didn't make it through, as the Octorg began to repopulate the tunnel with warships.

  On the SDF-3, battle raged, but the Octorg had still only beamed a handful of fish-frog drones onto the battleship.

  "Execute a space fold and get us out of here!" yelled Rick, all composure out the window.  "Unlike the Imperials, we don't need to make our escape route!"

  The SDF-3 shimmered and vanished, executing its first totally random space fold.  It didn't matter where they appeared, thinking they would be hard pressed to find a worse spot in the universe than the one they were in (which would probably be true in any story except this one).

  Kirk and Q spiraled though wormholes and timestrings at seemingly infinite speed.  Dazed and Confused, Kirk cradled his bleeding arm, still perilously close to the edge of madness.  The dull, thumping pain caused by his own teeth helped keep him focused in realty...whatever that was.

  He saw the blurred form of Q nearby, speeding alongside.  Looking to his right, he saw a third figure converge on them through the quantum tendrils of space and time.  It was Gandalf the White! Just as Gandalf reached Kirk and Q, their travel slowed and then halted, resting the trio down upon the dirty soil of a barren world.

  "What are we doing here?" asked Kirk as he reeled and sank down on one knee.

  "Why, getting more help, of course." Q smirked, and gestured toward a hunched, shambling form that scurried toward them as if it recognized the humanoids.  "What?  That?" asked Kirk.

  "Yes.  That," Gandalf said as he raised his staff.  A bolt of energy erupted from it, bathing the thing in white energy.  When it cleared, Kirk had to blink twice to make sure he was seeing things right.  It was Hyuj!"

  Greetings Captain, Gandalf.  Thank heaven you found me!" Apparently the spell had granted Hyuj the ability to communicate normally as well.

  Kirk remembered something important.  "Hyuj…where is your Box?"  "I can answer that for you, Kirkie." Jibed Q.  "Your old friend Gandalf the Grey has it."

  "Didn’t we just run away from him?" asked Kirk.

  "Q!  You ran away from Gandalf the Grey?" asked Gandalf.

  "Hmmm…well, yes.  Was that an error?  Well, I wouldn’t worry about it.  He was on the Enterprise-A, which, by the way Kirk, is a junkheap compared to Picard’s ship.  I’m sure the Octorg have him by now."

  Gandalf’s eyes narrowed.  "Q, you Mauron! If Cthulhu/Borg gets that box, we’re all doomed!"

  "Well, I guess we’ll have to go back and get it then," said Q.

  Luke was in steady mental contact with Indy…it was strange, Indy’s force impression felt so much like Han Solo’s.  The young Jedi was informing Indy about what had just happened, and preparing to give him instructions on how to try and alter the timestream in the past when his X-Wing shuddered violently.  Checking his sensors, he saw the reason.  Lost in his meditative communication state, Luke had failed to notice the Octorg sweeper fleet.  Though small compared to the main fleet, it still contained more ships than the X-Wing’s computer could count.  He hoped he’d gotten enough info through to Indy to make a difference.  Similar groups of Octorg warships were closing in on the Imperials and Rebel ships as well.  Well, at least this fleet didn’t block out the fucking stars.

  Back at the main Octorg fleet, which was finishing off the remaining starships, Cthulhu’s mothership pulsed and vibrated with His breathing.  Receiving projections from the Octorg hivemind, Great Cthulhu saw that his forces were closing in on the fleeing ships and began gibbering and tittering…he almost had enough power to subjugate all of the Great Old Ones once and for all…even hoary Nodens, lord of the Underworld.

  The roiling chaos that was Azathoth writhed and twisted in fractal ecstasy.  Nyarlathotep had done well, and all the war, madness and death that he tasted was the merest appetizer.  Soon he would engorge himself on the insane howls and begging pleas of all reality.