Space and time are like unto liquids for They who move with the angles not known by those of this world.  They exist within the spaces that lie within the spaces within the atom.  They, who can manipulate space-time, do so much as we manipulate liquid through vessels.  In such a manner can many places stand for one place, and how one place can stand for many places.  And a lost world can be recovered as it was skewed sideways in space-time and will manifest itself by altering the form and shape of another chosen world.  Only thus can the gateway be opened and the portal, Yog-Sothoth, achieved.  Thusly can the Old Ones come into their own and all of reality and order given over to pandemonium.  This has been, is, and will be the case at a place called Z'ha'dum.

-Excerpt from the Jones Transcription of the

 R'lyeh Text.

  A New Hope

  The Istari.  Maia spirits clad in mortal flesh; in the beginning there were seven, now, only three remained -- and two of them were evil.  This was the word that his agents brought to his ears.  By any reckoning, the news was not good.  As he watched the sun setting behind the Misty Mountains, his thoughts, like the coming twilight, turned to darkness.  First Saruman, now Gandalf.  The only difference was that where Saruman had strayed from the path of his own volition, Gandalf had been subverted by the combinations of dark and malicious magic.

  He could only imagine the horror Gandalf knew as he was forced to do evil's bidding against his will.  The druid paused in his thinking, if Saruman's spell had been powerful enough to subvert Gandalf…

Could he withstand the spell?  Could he reverse its effects?  Would he be strong enough?

  The answer came to him of its own accord.  Would he be strong enough?
He would have to be.  He was the only chance anyone had left.  With that melancholy thought he turned inward to meditate.

  And Radagast the Brown, the last of the seven presently on the path of Good, prepared himself for what surely would be the defining trial of his long life.

  The Rampage

It was hard to imagine how Minot, North Dakota could get any worse, but in this case Sgt. Morris didn't have to imagine.  He knew it was worse.  He and his maintenance team had just started work on one of the Minuteman missiles, when the first of the Old Ones struck.  He had called for backup security and then sealed himself and his team inside the silo.  He'd heard the guards topside scream in choked-off cries as some thing had finished them.

He knew the backup would never come when he called the launch control center for more help and instead heard one of the most horrifying sounds ever to grace his ears.  What he heard was the eight ton, four foot thick control center door -- built to withstand the unfathomable pressure of a proximity nuclear blast -- crack like a brittle eggshell.

Now something smashed onto the massive launcher closure door built to shelter the actual missile.

Whatever it was, made short work of the eight-foot thick reinforced concrete door which weighed thirty-two tons.  It might as well have weighed thirty-two ounces for all the good it did.

The door shattered -- a graham cracker in the hands of a child.

Large, unyielding chunks falling onto the missile and the men within.  The lucky were crushed outright.  The sergeant lay pinned under a two-ton chunk that had turned his lower body into paste.  As he began to go into shock, he glimpsed what had cracked the door.

His mind could not grasp it.  It would have done him little comfort to know that he gazed upon Ithaqua, the Walker in the Wastes, who the people of these northern climes hinted of only in hushed whispers as the Wendigo.

The sergeant went mad and screamed…and screamed…and screamed…

His soul was still screaming when it was torn from his body.

Los Angeles… Only a few deranged individuals remotely suspected that the megalopolis might meet its end in such a manner.  To most Los Angelinos only a massive earthquake, "The Big One", could bring an end to the technocratic horror they called home.  Imagine their surprise when the tidal waves hit before the earthquake.

And just when they thought it was over, just as the survivors were pulling themselves from the wreckage of the buildings and super-highways, that's when they hit.  An invasion from the Outside.  And the hardest thing for most of the poor victims to accept was that some of them had been here all along.

  The Cthonians…horrible earth-bound squids, flowing tentacles of pulpy gray and black, rudimentally attached to an elongated putrid sack of a body.  First would come the chanting sounds, telepathically freezing all who heard them in their tracks.  Then a hole would open up and the slime would geyser forth.  A slime and goo that were entirely alien to the world…for they contained no water in them.  Following the slime, the bodies would always pour forth…no distinguishing features at all other than the reaching, groping mass of tentacles…to crush, and squeeze, and chew the immobilized human flesh.

  Then Shudde M'ell, a great gray thing a mile long, burst from the earth and melted the concrete and steel of mankind like butter under a blowtorch.  Then he claimed his new realm.

  When they saw the primordial jungles begin to reclaim the world, they knew they had been right.  The Earth Goddess had manifested herself and the evil, foul, and uncaring humanity would pay for their sins against the planet.  They shed their man-made garments and proceeded into the jungles, naked.  As they had come into the world they would go and commune with the Earth Goddess and she would bless them for the good that they had tried to do.

  The New Age cult had grown to several thousand strong and they gathered now in a great circle around an ancient megalith to prance in re-enactment of Druid rituals whose origins lay in times long unremembered.  In this way, they would beg forgiveness for the sins of their brother humans. 

  In this way, they could pay homage to Gaia, the Earth Goddess.  For that is whom the majority of the cult believed they were worshipping.  But the priests and high initiates of the cult were deceivers and they knew who the real fertility goddess was which they prayed to…

They would surreptitiously offer her sacrifices when they could.  Not virgins as they would have preferred but then the young runaways they would snatch from the streets seldom were.  The poor girls would offer their young nubile bodies in exchange for food and perhaps a night's shelter from the horror of the streets-- only to meet the cold steel of the blade.  And then only after every last vestige of terror had been milked from their psyche in order to quench the thirst of the foulest creature to which they would be sacrificed.

And now the deceivers were gleeful because in these foolish New Age cultists and worshippers of Gaia they had a mass sacrifice that would appease their horrid goddess and assure their place in the new world order. 

As they completed the first of the rituals, thunderclaps and the electric crackling sound, as if someone rending a terrific fabric, heralded the arrival of the goddess.  And they saw her and shrieked and scrambled in all directions of the jungle only to be snatched into the gaping maws of her Dark Young.  The high priests cackled with joy as the New Age cultists were frayed from their bodies.  They laughed at the poor souls who, even after their arms had been torn from their bodies, continued to try to run.  Then their laughter turned to horror in turn as Shub-Niggurath made herself known.

And it was then, only then, that they realized to their dismay, that Shub-Niggurath did not care who the faithful were…and had never cared.

Then the high priest frantically tried to cast a banishment spell or at least a ward to protect himself.  But he was snatched up to one of her many mouths and before long all he could do was writhe in pain and scream.  He thought it was as much pain as anything he had ever imagined, his entire world became the pain as Shub-Niggurath drained him of his fluids.  But that was before he died and found out what Hell was all about.

Boston was never ready for Dagon and his army of Deep Ones.  They never saw it coming.  And after the screaming was over Boston had fallen much as doomed Sarnath had so long ago under the gibbous moon.

In New York, the night gaunts, ghasts, and doles made themselves known.  In the end, The Big Apple turned out to be just another tasty snack.

At the bottom of the world…it rained on Kadath.  The ice of untold millennia melted to join the quickly flowing glacial rivers.  In the center of that forgotten city, an unspeakable abomination boiled and steamed as it awoke.  A grayish horrid mass…the ultimate source of miscreation and atrocity…quivered and swelled perpetually, and from it, in manifold fission, sprung forth-innumerable shoggoths.

Thus it was on the world when the stars came right.

The Stand

Tuvok seemed to know too much about these "new" Borg.  At least that's the way Chikotay saw it.  It was almost as if the Vulcan knew some of the answers before they were asked.  Once they made contact, Chikotay was sure the Borg would try their usual routine of assimilation.  But they had not.  Instead, they had hailed Voyager and offered a peaceful exchange of technology.  Chikotay had been on edge.  But he remembered how Tuvok had petitioned for the exchange, almost as if he had known what would come of it.

Now, standing in engineering, Commander Chikotay could not deny that once again the Vulcan had been right.  The modified Borg had granted Voyager and her crew the means to return home.  Morale was high.  He keyed his comm-link, "Everything is ready to go, Captain."  Her distant voice came back at him, rendered even more nasal by the tiny speaker within the unit, "Very well.  How's Seven holding up?"

Chikotay looked across the bay, "She's doing well Captain."  He lied, it was clear to everyone that even the Doctor's intravenous feeding methods were failing.  She was dying.

By the tone in her voice, Janeway knew.  "Alright.  I hope this works.  Activate the Borg Transwarp drive."

A bright glare illuminated engineering whitewashing it in spectral light as metric tons of anti-matter flooded the dilithium chamber of the Borg-modified drive.

Voyager rocketed into its own anomaly…but not towards home as her crew believed.  But towards a place called Z'ha'dum.

Sheridan looked out the viewport of the Agamemnon.  He watched the massive fleet, a fleet composed of the combined forces of the Minbari, Narn, and Centauri, move toward the dumpsite.  The irony of the situation did not fail him.  The Babylon Project had been designed as an ambassadorial neutral ground.  The known galaxy's last best hope for peace.  Now, based on what G'Kar had uncovered, what Delenn and her contacts had told him, and the strange events which were transpiring, Babylon 5 had become their last best hope for survival.  And this is what it took to get the beings of the galaxy to unite…not peace…but a greater enemy.

Ivanova broke into his thoughts.  "Captain, the first task force has reached the jumpgate."

There was the characteristic bright flash and for those first ships, the end had begun. 

The ship rocked yet again.  Harder this time.  Sulu's ribs hurt from smashing into the side of the command chair so hard and so often.  He could tell the inertial dampeners were giving way.  But still the ship held.
"Say what you want about the old girl Scotty, but she can take a beating," he muttered under his breath.

"Captain, photon tubes are ready, phaser banks are recharged."

"Hard about.  Z minus two-thousand.  Drop to half impulse then let them have it.  Helm, keep us out of trouble."

The young helmsman did just that.  Sulu was proud, not just of the helmsman, but of his entire crew.  They had performed admirably.  In fact, Kirk himself could not have asked for a finer crew.  At the early stages of the battle, Sulu had fought back the urge to grab the helm controls himself.  Now he was glad he had.  The young man's reflexes were making up for his lack of experience.

The Excelsior's dorsal thrusters fired and everyone onboard was thrown into a momentary zero-gravity as the dampeners failed again.  Sulu noticed that the maneuver had come just in time.

Four of the Shadow ships fired simultaneously.  Their bright energy beams providing harsh contrast to the blackness of the their hulls and space.  Excelsior retorted.  Her equally bright phasers lanced out and speared one of the ships.  Even at this range, Sulu could see the chunks being blown off.  That was before the photon torpedoes hit.  The Shadow ship blossomed into a flower of pure energy sharing collateral damage with her sister ships which had remained in too tight a formation.

Sulu thanked his luck again.  The strange woman, Lyta Alexander, had not been able to hold the ships off for long.  But she somehow was making them wary enough that they were not swarming in and that gave Sulu a fighting chance.

Just then, a glancing blow struck the ship, sending the crew for yet another bone-jarring trip across the ship.  Alarms sounded everywhere.  The damage report came in before Sulu could ask.

"Shields at forty-two percent!  Phasers are off-line!"

"Captain!" Rand this time, "E and F deck are venting atmosphere.  The hull's been breached." She put her hand to her earpiece to better hear the incoming sounds of disorder.  "Sir, the automatic sealing system is not working."

Sulu made another command decision, "Seal off those decks."

"Aye sir."

Everyone on the bridge knew what that meant.  They had just lost another hundred or so good men and women.

"Captain, something on the sensors!" the science officer shouted over the alarms, his face dreadfully pale under the harsh red combat lights.

"Standby." Sulu checked the viewscreen, mentally keeping track of his ship's position in relation to her enemies.  He realized the helmsman had taken the ship out of immediate danger on his own initiative.  Good.  He turned back towards the science officer, "What is it?"

Before the science officer could answer, Sulu was distracted by a harsh gasp coming from Lyta Alexander.  He turned to see the woman suspended a foot in the air, her body wracked in a contorted spasm as the life was crushed out of her by a force he could not see.  Then she fell -- a marionette whose strings had been cut.

Sulu knew it would be bad.  He turned again the science station.  "Just put it on screen."

The entire bridge crew groaned as they saw the horde of shadow ships approaching like swarms of thousands of gnats.  Of course, Sulu reminded himself, they only look like gnats because they're still thousands of miles away.

"Put the planet on screen."

Z'ha'dum filled the screen.  Again a reaction from the bridge crew.  What had looked like a dead gray celestial body, now looked lush and green, even from orbit.

"Scanning," the science officer announced before Sulu could even ask.  "Sir, it appears to have the characteristics of an early Class M world."

Don't look a gift-horse in the mouth.  Now there's a chance. 

"Engineering!  I want all power routed to the engines and shields!  Rand, Sound Collision!"

She echoed his command as calmly as she could, "Sounding Collision, Aye."

"Helm…put her on the planet."

Everyone on the bridge gasped.  The helmsman looked away from his controls for a microsecond, "Sir?"

"Do you have hearing problems mister?"

"No sir." The helmsman manipulated the controls and Excelsior dove at the planet at full impulse.

"Oh, and helm…."

"Yes sir?"

"Try to put us down gently…" Sulu tried to ease the tension with the small joke.  It did ease the tension, because his order did little else good.  Of the cornucopia of words which could be used to describe the landing of a massive Starship (so big it had to be built in orbit) crash landing on a jungle world with no equipment to help it do so…gentle does not come to mind.

Ackbar was doing his best.  He wasn't even finished with his briefing, but Luke could sense that Grand Admiral Thrawn remained unconvinced.  The blue-skinned alien held up a hand signaling Ackbar to stop.

"Admiral Ackbar, you have obviously devoted a great deal of study to this subject.  But what you have put before me is merely conjecture.  I see no hard evidence of which you speak."

"But how do you explain the Octorg abating their attack, even as victory was within their grasp?"

Thrawn thought for a moment, "I have seen many strange things in the service of the Emperor.  If I am to be your prisoner, then so be it.  But do me the honor of not soliciting my treason."

  Now Luke stepped in, "Admiral, you were with me on the bridge when Lieutenant Commander Data used my lightsaber to strike Palpatine down."

"Yes.  And I saw him shield himself in a force cocoon in order to heal.  A cocoon from which he has emerged apparently more powerful than he was before."

  "And this force cocoon…why didn't he use it when my father threw him into the core of the second Death Star?  I may not be as powerful a Jedi as they were of old, but I stand here to tell you that in all the lore I've studied, no such thing exists within the realm of the Jedi."

"You yourself admit your limited knowledge.  Need I remind you that the Emperor himself came into his power during the prime of the Jedi! You are an impetuous youth to compare yourself to his Excellency."

Luke sighed.  Thrawn was simply too dedicated.  Ackbar resumed the argument.

"Did Palpatine act himself when he emerged from the cocoon?  Or did he behave differently?  As if he was possessed."

Ackbar could see he had struck a cord.  He now had Thrawn's undivided attention.  "He acted as a conduit for energies impossibly darker than he ever dreamed to be.  In fact, there is a small sense of satisfaction in knowing that the Emperor is now truly no more."

Thrawn frowned.  "Were you not listening?  I saw him emerge from the cocoon with my own eyes."

"I would hate to disagree with you Grand Admiral.  But what you saw was the Avatar of the Old Ones, the Crawling Chaos, Nyarlathotep himself, wearing the form of the Emperor Palpatine.  In fact, you are lucky to be alive at all.  Admiral, if you will trust me…come with me and I shall show you things not meant to be seen by the eyes of others here."

Thrawn stood and moved towards Ackbar.  Thrawn's aides protested but he shook them off.  He followed Ackbar into a small room directly adjoining the conference room.  They were only inside for five minutes, but when both admirals emerged, Luke could sense, Thrawn was convinced.

He turned to address the assembly, "Keep in mind.  I am a citizen of the Empire and my allegiance lies to the Empire and nothing else.  What I do now, I do because the Empire has never faced a more serious and grave threat." He addressed his aide, "Use the communications console onboard to put me in contact with the commanders of the fleet.  All except the Vindicator I fear she is lost with all hands.  I suspect I already know Grand Moff Andara's response but I must give him the benefit of the doubt.  Even crippled, the Eclipse is a formidable weapon and I would rather use it to our cause then face it in combat." He turned to Ackbar, "Hopefully, the ship commanders are more loyal to me than to the Emperor."

Ackbar nodded, "We shall see."

Onboard the SDF-3, circumstances had removed all opportunity for debate.  Admiral Rick Hunter stood impassively on the bridge.  "How much longer?"

"The Octorg will be in range within approximately five minutes sir."

"Progress on evacuation?"

"The GMU won't be ready to leave for at least ten minutes."

Rick sighed, too tired to think of an expletive to suit the situation.  The plan had been to move as many people as they could into the GMU and use the new spacefold drive to get them to escape to safety.  In the meantime, the SDF-3 would continue repairs and if everything worked out she would join the GMU.  In order to fit as many people as they could onto the GMU they had to leave it woefully under-defended, with only a few Excaliburs, Spartans, and Wallart's Battlemechs to defend her.  People were crowded into every hallway and staging area.  But that still left a little over three thousand people aboard the SDF-3.  The GMU would carry the bulk of the people to safety then the SDF-3 would join them.  That had been the plan.  Then the Octorg had found them again.

"The Octorg are in range."

Rick didn't hesitate.  "Fire the main gun."

Deep in the bowels of the SDF-3, where the inner guts of the main gun were housed, the output of three fusion generators and protoculture combined to produce a beam of nearly-pure energy that was as bright as a small star.  A beam so powerful that nothing could survive in its wake.  And yet the Octorg did and they kept coming.

Rick keyed the comm to the GMU, "Max.  We can't stop the Octorg!

They've adapted somehow to the main gun!"

"Rick we can't leave now…the evacuation isn't close to being complete."

"Max you leave now or you don't leave at all.  We'll hold them off as long as we can!"

Rick turned the link off.  He didn't have time for good-byes now.

"Sir, the GMU is deploying."

"Good…Deploy all remaining Destroids and Mecha."

Rick knew they weren't fighting for their lives now.  That fate had already been decided.  They were fighting for enough time for the GMU to escape and that was all.

"Engineering.  The Octorg have adapted to the main gun.  I want you to rig it so that the next time we use it, it will self-destruct and take us with it."

There was a stunned silence from engineering and everyone on the bridge.  Then finally an answer, "Aye sir.  It will be ready in two minutes."

There was no time for an answer.  The Octorg were upon them.  In space, and onboard the SDF-3.  Octorg were materializing everywhere assimilating the crew.  In space, the Destroids and Mecha were simply being picked off, overwhelmed by sheer force of arms.

Rick knew he made the right decision.  They didn't stand a chance…not at all.  As his crewmates tried to keep the Octorg at bay he kept his eyes intently on the sensor screen, which was growing increasingly cluttered.  He kept his eyes centered on the GMU's icon.  He didn't notice that the fighting on the bridge had stopped. 

He felt the Octorg assimilation probe stab him in the back and flood his system with nanites which instantly began to subvert his will.  Through the haze of confusion and pain he saw the GMU icon vanish from the screen.  As his mind became flooded with the cacophony of a million other Octorg voices celebrating chaos, the last human part of Rick Hunter reached out to the console, and fired the SDF-3's main gun for the last time.

Grand Moff Andara fumed.  Thrawn thought he might have an aneurysm just from their conversation.  That would be fortuitous indeed.  Thrawn turned his attention back to the holographic Andara.

"Some of us do not forget our loyalties so quickly.  The Eclipse, her men, and her, shall I say, considerable resources shall remain in the service of the Emperor, as you so recently did.  Believe me, when I tell you that I take no pleasure in reminding an Imperial Grand Admiral of where his loyalties lie."

Thrawn knew the man was lying.  He was taking great pleasure in it.  And normally, Thrawn might have taken slight pleasure in knocking the Grand Moff down a few notches, but he did not have time. 

"I pity you Andara.  As a tactician and governor you were simply inept, but as a commander you are a total failure.  You have doomed yourself and your men….possibly by my hand…and I take no pleasure in that."

With a wave of his hand Thrawn cut off the communication.  He turned to his staff.  "Inform the fleet, we must now deal with the Eclipse as well as the Vindicator."

The UH-60 Blackhawk dropped down again through a jolt of cooler air.  Dr. Jones held his cat, which was still hissing.  The Bishop and two other brothers sat in quiet meditation.  James T.  Kirk, starship captain, the man who had single-handedly saved the planet on repeated occasions, stared quietly outside the helicopter window.  He watched the rotor blades of the AH-64 Apache helicopter escorts spinning in the rain.  They almost hypnotized him.  They almost made him forget that he had no idea what was happening.  No idea where this adventure would lead him.  He thought back to some of his other adventures.  He had always known he would die alone.  And yet where was his crew now?

Dr. Jones looked at James Kirk and felt some sympathy for the man.  So much depended on him.  The Bishop's eyes snapped open.  "Something is amiss." By the time he finished his sentence, they all knew what it was.  James Kirk had vanished.

The Bishop and the brothers, and even the members of the elite and secretive Delta Green sat awestruck.  But Dr. Jones had a quizzically funny look on his face.  One of the brothers spoke up.

"What, may I ask is so amusing?"

Jones looked back at him, laughing out loud, "I'm finally gonna find out what happened from this end…this might all make sense after all."

The bridge of the Vindicator was darker than usual.  The men who worked on it tried to ignore that fact.  In reality, fear of the Emperor had made them little more than mindless automatons.  One of the majors broke away from the main group and approached the shriveled form of the Emperor.

"Your Excellency, I have Grand Moff Andara of the Eclipse on the line.  He claims to have a message of incredible importance.  Shall I put him through?"

The Emperor looked at the major and cracked a smile, an act which somehow was more foul than when he showed no emotion at all.  "Of course."

Within seconds, Grand Moff Andara's panicked holographic representation appeared in front of him.

"Your Excellency! Admiral Thrawn has turned traitor! He plans to take the other ships with him against you! He has even sought me out in his plan."

On the bridge of the Vindicator and the Eclipse respectively everyone gasped as the remaining Star Destroyers simultaneously entered hyperspace on a direct vector for the Rebel fleet.

"It would appear, that I am the only one who has remained loyal your Excellency.  This is a tragedy!"

"Stop your blabbering Andara," the Emperor hissed, "I find that you are a creature who lacks any semblance of sentient thought.  These events are progressing exactly as I have foreseen.  You will pay the price for your lack of vision."

With that, the Emperor, crushed the life out of Grand Moff Andara. 

Q and Hyuj stared at Kirk.  Kirk stared back, he had absolutely no clue what the hell was going on.  "Hyuj? What's going on?"

Hyuj looked on with a sad look on his face.  "I cannot help you Captain.  I have done all I could."

Q stood up, "I can help you Mon Capitaine!"

"I know….but it's no fun for me if I just tell you is it? No…that won't do at all.  You're going to have to guess."

"Guess? Is this a dream or delusion?"

"Oh Captain…I'm disappointed…someone of your intellect.  Still, I must make it sporting…I will answer any ten questions that demand a yes or no answer."

"Is this really happening?"

"Yes."

:Can it be undone?"

 "Definitely yes."

 "Are the Greys behind this? Are they responsible?"

  "Yes….and yes...you could say it's their fault.  Six more to go."

  "But that was only three questions!"

  "Three: Are the Greys behind this? Four: Are they responsible? Your fifth question if you so please Captain time runs short."

"Does this have to do with the Old Ones?"

"Yes"

"How do I stop them?"

"Oh Jim…and you were doing so well…that's not a Yes or No question…you forfeit the rest of your questions."

"Damn it Q!  My crew is dead.  Billions of people have died!  If you know the answers you have damn well give them to me!"

"Why you impertinent evolved slug…after all I've done for you."

"You've done nothing for me Q!"

  "Nothing?  Such ingratitude.  You were like an insect trapped in amber and I have made you free! I have no more time for you…you'll have to figure it out on your own…back you go."

  "No wa…."

  "…it!" Kirk shouted at the walls of the now padded cell that he found himself enclosed in.  He fought to hold on to the memories that he could feel slipping away.  Q had been telling him something.  But that was already slipping from him.  He had been flying somewhere…with Dr…Jones?  Yes...he was sure of that Jones was important...but there was somebody else? Skywalker? Yes…Skywalker was also key.  Skywalker and Jones.  Already their identities were slipping away from him…but he could force himself to remember.  At the cost of forgetting his own identity, Kirk began repeating the names of Skywalker and Jones over and over again. 

  The next orc stepped into the small room and Gimli's axe split his head, spraying the whole party with ichor and gray matter.  Before the orc had hit the ground another had taken his place.  This time Legolas finished him with an arrow.

  "That was my last arrow." Legolas drew his sword but no orc followed.  The hobbits huddled in the center of the inner keep of Amon Sul, short swords drawn.  All of them knew they would most assuredly be dead or worst, if Gimli and Legolas hadn't made their fortuitous entrance.

Pippin spoke up, "Perhaps they've broken off their attack."

Frodo answered, "Not likely…"

"If I have to raise this axe one more time…" Gimli groaned.  He was interrupted by a bright flash in the center of the room.  The blast flung the hobbits aside.  Gimli spun his axe already swinging. 

He froze in mid-swing and could hardly believe his eyes.  "Aragorn?"

"Yes.  But watch that axe my old friend, or I might not be much longer."

Legolas stepped forward, sword raised high.  That was when Gimli and the hobbits noticed that Aragorn was not alone.  Aragorn spoke.

"Stay thy hand Legolas, 'tis only Gandalf."

"Nay, my Elven eyes see the truth.  And Gandalf does not stand by you, but someone very like him I suspect."

Gimli raised his axe once more, trusting his elf-friend who had seldom led him astray, "Saruman?"

Now Aragorn spun to the side, his sword was out in a flash.  "My eyes deceive me, I see nought but Gandalf Stormcrow before me.  But still if Legolas says…"

Their weapons were suddenly ablaze with a white fire and where Gandalf had stood, the wizened form of Radagast the Brown took his place.

"I should have known I would be unable to fool Legolas.  But I thought that wearing the guise of Gandalf would be easier than explaining everything."

"Radagast!" Aragorn picked up his sword from the ground.  "But where is Gandalf?"

"He has fallen to dark times…but there is still much good in him.  I cannot explain everything, but we must act quickly.  For now, you must trust me."

Frodo spoke up, "I don't know about trusting you…I don't even know who you are.  For all we know you could be as bad as Saruman of Many Colors or Sauron!"

Radagast stood straight up to his full height and glared at Frodo.  "Do not speak that name so loudly!  You will trust me Frodo son of Drogo simply because you have no choice.  Now we have a brief moment until the orcs resume their assault…we need to…"

But he was cut off by a hideous howl from outside.

Legolas shivered, "It's the Witch-King…the Nine have returned." The Nazgul had left following Legolas' and Gimli's initial counter-attack to be replaced by a legion of Uruk-Hai.  Now they had returned, clad in new bodies and perched upon hideous winged mounts that howled into the night.

Radagast leaned heavily upon his staff, "I had not foreseen this…and I was already so weary.  Very well.  If this must be done now at this place…then it is meet that it must be so." He threw on the illusion of Gandalf again and stepped out of the protection of the inner keep.

From inside, the party heard him address the Nine.

"Those inside have come under my protection!  You may not pass.  You have two choices, go now back to the foulness from which thou came, or the battle can be joined now.  But know this, I am a Servant of the Secret Fire and you will not prevail!"

The Nine took to the air on their mounts who began to howl loudly as they flew in circles around Radagast.  Then the Nine took to shrieking themselves and then they fell upon him.

The sounds of massive explosions and flashes of light as bright as the day told the party inside that the battle had been joined in earnest. 

Dr. Jones noticed that the AH-64 Apache escorts changed course and left their helicopter alone.  He caught site of them again silhouetted against the explosions they were causing as they fired rockets into the writhing mass of the ground.  In the light of one particularly bright explosion, Dr. Jones made sense of what he was seeing.  The ground wasn't writhing.  There was simply a great crowd massed upon it.  A great throng of creatures he could neither describe nor did he wish to.  He shouted over the engine noise of the helicopter.

"I thought we were heading to Area 42!"

"We were!" A Delta Green member shouted back.  "We can't now!  We just got word, Area 42 is being overrun.  We're being diverted.  We're going to catch a Lear to Colorado."

"What's in Colorado?"

"The Mountain…oh crap!" The Delta Green member turned towards the door of the helicopter.  Dr. Jones looked over his shoulder and could recognize some kind of creatures flying up at them.  The soldier slid the bolt back on the door-mounted 7.62 millimeter chain gun and let them have it. 

Area 42

Mulder didn't even recognize what he was shooting at half the time.  The truth was he didn't care.  He recognized the Byakhee and the Deep Ones.  They were hard to forget.  But he only heard the names of the other creatures that crawled, slithered, and hopped down the hallway when the Delta Green members shouted them over the deafening noise of the firefight.

"Dholes!"  "Ghasts!"  "Gaunts!"  "Mi-Go!"  "Star-Spawn!"

He didn't care.  He emptied another clip into the mass of the hallway as he swept his borrowed M-16 from side to side.  He dropped the clip out, slid in another, and snapped the bolt back into place.  The entire procedure took him less than 3 seconds.  He had gotten really good at it over the last three hours.  The fight had taken its toll.  For instance, he could no longer hear anything in his right ear…well unless you counted the high-pitched keening sound that was characteristic of damaged hearing. 

He fired several chosen shots into the mass of creatures.  They were slowing, slipping and sliding on the ichor and blood of their fallen companions.  It was almost time again.  Mulder stole a glance at Scully.  She was blasting away from behind her own M-16, but still doing fine.  Mulder turned his attention back to the fight at hand and emptied another clip.

As he began changing out another, he made a mental note that he only had two more clips left.  Then he would have to make a run for the cart at the end of the hall, which they were wheeling around with them to carry the thousands of rounds of ammunition.

"Fall Back!!" One of the Delta Green soldiers shouted.  That was the signal.  Mulder turned and ran as fast as he could toward the cart.  Scully and several other soldiers joined him as heavier M-60's covered their retreat.  Several rounds from M-203 grenade launchers broke up the pack and turned the other end of the hall into a momentary blazing inferno.  One soldier ran up with a satchel charge in his hand. 

"Fire in the hole!!" He flung it down the hallway and it slid on the now slick surface all the way to the end.  Just as the hallway began to fill again with the flood of atrocities and abominations, it detonated.  Collapsing the section of hallway and sending a mild sized dust cloud towards the rest of the soldiers.

They waited as the dust cleared for any signs of movement.  Then, just as the dust cloud was about to reach them, a creature lunged out of it.  Everyone let go with their weapons.  The creature did a strange-looking dance as the bullets tore in and out of its flesh, then collapsed in a heap.

"Adios A-Mi-Go..." Mulder's joke did little to ease the tension.

Scully pointed to the collapsed section of hallway, "Will that hold them?" "Yeah, for about eight minutes." The soldier keyed on his radio, "Colonel? This is Major Anderson.  We've stopped the breach here.  We're gonna blow this whole section of hallway and that should stop them for good." He turned towards the FBI agents, "Get below, we'll join you shortly." Mulder and Scully climbed into the elevator at the other end of the hall and went down.  Major Anderson and his team began placing charges all along the hallway, weapons still held at the ready.  They could already hear the things digging from the other side.

"Hey, hurry up, I don't want to be hear any longer than we need to be."  But it was already too late.  Winding their way through the rubble came hundreds of tad-pole slug-like things.  Tiny teardrop shaped anomalies of nature, skittering and sliding through the thin gaps within the rubble.  One of the sergeants spotted them.  The last thing he saw was the things' hundreds of tiny little teeth as the things leapt up and one of them burrowed its way into his eye.  He went down screaming firing his weapon into his companions.  Seven of them were down before they knew what was happening.

The major turned in time and narrowly ducked away from the deadly stream of fire.  His men, the wounded ones began crawling to safety, then the tadpole things caught up to them and they screamed until the things ate out their lungs.  Then they drowned in their own blood.  Then the major realized what the things were doing.  They were simply just eating through all the rubble...through anything.  It was what enabled the creatures to breach their barriers so quickly. 

Almost as he made that realization, he saw the throng of creatures coming again.  The soldiers who were left opened up, but it was already clear that they were going to be overwhelmed.  The major hit the transmitter to detonate the explosives.  The small voice in the transmitter responded emotionlessly.

"Thirty seconds until detonation."

He reached one of the M-60s, lifted it off its stand, and marched forward, Rambo-style, dragging the long ammunition belt behind him.  He held the trigger down and didn't stop firing.  He'd heard stories of gun barrels turning white-hot, now he saw it for himself.  Then the belt ran out.  He turned to run and slipped on the considerable amount of hot brass that his own weapon had spewed.  And the things reached him.

  Wedge adjusted his transmitter....

"Do you Copy Rogue Eight?"

"I can't make it Rogue One.  I've lost my starboard engine, forward shields are depleted!"

"Adjust your modulation!  Go double-front!"

"I … it's not responding.  R7 try to adjust the harmonic…Ahhhhhh!"

Wedge didn't have time to get angry, he had lost too many friends in this battle alone.  He turned his shields to double-front and adjusted his lasers to single-fire.  He stepped on his port ethereal rudder pedal, began a slow lazy roll and flew directly into swarm of TIE fighters.  He got six of them before he got passed them.  He snapped his shields to equalize, slammed the throttle back and brought his X-Wing into an extremely tight turn.  A turn so tight that according to the laws of physics it was almost impossible.  But Wedge did it, his incredible piloting skills more than making up for the greater agility of the TIEs.

But there were simply too many.  He was dodging their blasts, but even the occasional strike was whittling away his shields.  Then he saw a close formation of TIE Interceptors streaking right at him.  He yelled to his R2 unit.

"Adjust power from the engines to the lasers!"

A confirming chirp and warble were his only reply.  He began to fire, but already the laser bolts were splattering on his forward shields.

Suddenly, the entire formation of incoming TIE Interceptors was decimated in a hail of green lasers.  Seconds later, two of Thrawn's TIE Avengers streaked past.

"Thanks Avengers!"

"Don't mention it Rebel."

"Almost got yourself cooked huh Wedge?"

"I would've made it."

"Yeah?  Well, Chewie says your full of it.  Stick close to Falcon.  We can cover you while you recharge your shields."

"Thanks Han."

Thrawn was concentrating the assault on the Eclipse.  It had more firepower than the Vindicator and the added advantage that the Emperor was not actively defending it with the Force.  The initial assault on the Vindicator was a horrible disaster.  Thrawn and Ackbar had grossly under-estimated the power of the force.  Every proton torpedo, every concussion missile, every heavy rocket fired at the Vindicator came under the influence of the Emperor and sought out the craft which had fired it.  After that, no pilot worth his salt would dare make an attack run on the Vindicator.  So the Eclipse sucked up the damage.

An aide approached Thrawn's chair on the bridge of his new flagship, the Chokhai, "Grand Admiral, sensors show that the hyperdrive system on the Eclipse has been rendered into useless scrap.  A few more solid hits and we should be able to get through the shields and with a spot of luck we might hit the reactor."

Thrawn responded quickly, "Not with luck.  With planning.  Those who rely on luck in battle do not live to fight many.  Remember that."

The aide nodded and stepped briskly away.  Thrawn looked at his tactical screen, the Rebel Mon Calamari cruisers Defiance, Independence, and Liberty flanked him.  They were doing more than their share in the battle.  He had expected nothing less. 

Luke's X-wing glided into the landing bay on the Defiance.  Before the full weight of the craft had come to rest on the landing gear, techs were already swarming over it, securing broken stabilizers and rearming the torpedoes.  Luke jumped out of the cockpit, and rushed to the bridge.

He arrived just to see the Lady Luck, Lando's personal highly modified yacht dispatch a squadron of TIE Bombers.

"Send General Calrissian my complements!" Ackbar barked.  He noticed Luke.  "Commander Skywalker, why aren't you in your ship?  We need you out there.  Your presence is important to the morale of the entire battle."

"Listen to me Admiral, I have no time to explain, my communications unit on my fighter was damaged.  You must relay this to the fleet.  I have sensed a great disturbance in the Force.  All the craft must depart now, while they can still escape.  You've all got to get to hyperspace while you can."

Leia stepped forward, "You sound as if you're not coming with us."

"I'm not.  I must go meet my destiny."

"We need you here!  Without you there is almost no hope."

"Don't be so sure about that.  Someday you'll understand.  But for now I can't argue about it.  I must go."

Leia gave Luke a big hug.  She felt him stiffen.  She pushed back from him and gazed into his eyes.  They were distant and vacant.

"It's starting.  I have to go.  Get your fleet out of here Admiral!" Then Luke was out, running at full tilt toward the landing bay.  Using the Force to augment his running, he made it there in seconds.  He hopped back into the cockpit, "Come on R2, We're going."

His X-wing soared out of the landing bay.  Luke put himself in a Jedi meditation trance and concentrated.  He was so deep in the trance; he didn't hear R2 warbling incessantly at him in warning.  He didn't notice the TIE Bomber that was getting the missile lock on him.  He didn't notice when it fired a concussion missile at him.

Using the Force, he managed to open a small space-time anomaly and slipped his X-wing through.  The concussion missile followed.

Luke burst back into real-space unexpectedly.  He had anticipated the journey would be longer.  He checked his screen and knew he was in orbit around the right planet.  But judging by his sensors, he was way too early.  About forty-two years too early, he would guess just by the look of things. 

Artoo warbled a warning scream.

Luke's danger sense began to tingle.  He jerked the controls to the side -- and that was all that saved his life.  The concussion missile went off right where he should have been.  Even though it wasn't a direct hit, the blast shorted out most of his systems.

The planet loomed ever larger.  Like it or not…he was landing here.  And here is where he would have to wait until the time was right.

On the bridge of the Chokhai, Admiral Thrawn was getting a hint of what was to come.  Massive coils of force energy surged from the bridge of the Vindicator, leaving no doubt that the Emperor was causing them.

The coils struck the Imperial Star Destroyer Devastator amidships.  At first there was no discernable effect.  Then, Thrawn could see the ship beginning to vent atmosphere.  His quick mind grasped what was happening.  The Emperor was using the Force to disassemble the Devastator.  And what had taken the Kuat Drive Yards nearly a year to build, the Emperor took apart in seconds.  Thrawn felt a pang of loss.  General Jerjerrod was on that ship.  His leadership would be sorely missed in the continuing battle.

Thrawn had no idea how he could even begin to fight such power as the Emperor wielded against his fleet.  This was clearly a time for a strategic withdrawal.

On the bridge of the Defiance, Admiral Ackbar was quickly coming to the same conclusion.  His feelings were reinforced when he saw a Victory II class Star Destroyer move sharply sideways dangerously close to the Independence.  Then he realized what was happening, even though the Star Destroyer had maneuvering thrusters along their broadsides, there was no way it could be moving that fast.  The Emperor must have had something to do with it.  In seconds, his suspicions were confirmed.  The Star Destroyer collided violently with the Independence.  The impact fractured both ships and speckled them with secondary explosions.  Both ships bounced away from each other, then an invisible Force drew them back together.  Ackbar had to look away from the glare of the massive explosion that followed, sending shards of both ships' superstructures careening into the space battle and decimating scores of starfighters.

He didn't hesitate to hail the Chokai.  Thrawn's form appeared on the bridge, his eyes burning red even in the holograph.  "Grand Admiral.  Considering the power we are now facing, I suggest we retreat."

Thrawn responded, "I was about to suggest the same thing.  Order your ships to enter hyperspace as soon as they can.  We must remain here for a short time longer to recover our TIEs.  They have no hyperdrive capability.  I must go now.  Thrawn out."

Ackbar now addressed the fleet, "All craft, enter hyperspace at will.  Coordinates are being uploaded within this transmission." He waited until the transmission was complete then ordered the Defiance into hyperspace.  He allowed himself to relax a little in his seat and increased the humidity around himself slightly.  At least they would be safe enough to regroup and figure out what they were doing.

But Ackbar was wrong.  Nobody was safe at Z'ha'dum, which was exactly where he and his fleet were heading.

The Stargate

With the Rocky Mountains to the West, deserts to the south, long plains to the east and north, Colorado was one of the few safe havens left in the world.  The Air Force C-21 Learjet landed at Peterson AFB without incident.  Dr. Jones (and his cat), The Bishop, and the other brothers were escorted off and submitted to a very boring drive to Cheyenne Mountain.

Cheyenne Mountain Air Force Base was every bit as imposing as its name implied.  It was the headquarters of N.O.R.A.D., it was built into the mountain itself, and after the resurgence of the Old Ones it was possibly the last most secure place in the world.

  As they moved into the inside of the mountain itself, they heard someone shout, "Seal it up!"  Then they saw the massive blast door move into place.  Ironically, the blast door, the air system, the shock absorption system -- all vestiges of a Cold War that never grew fully hot -- were going to serve to defend mankind's last stand.

One of the Delta Green soldiers herded them into a room.  Other refugees who were deemed important "You can use this room as a base of operations.  Try to find out anything you can to help us.  Right now, you two know about as much about what we're facing as the rest of us.  Any Delta Green files you might need…and that still exist…will be made available to you."

Dr. Jones spoke up, "For starters, I'm going to need to talk to Colonel O'Neil."

"Nobody by that name works here to my knowledge."

"Oh come on! After all that's happened you're going to stick to your stupid little secrets!  Would it help if I told you that he heads the S.G.?  project, works with a Dr. Daniel Jackson and Dr. Amanda Carter…I believe they're working with an alien named Teal'C who is a host for a Goa'uld or something?"

"How in the hell do you know all that?" Jones just smiled.  "Well, I don't suppose it matters much.  I'll see if I can put you in touch with them, they're busy at the moment.  It looks like we'll be evacuating who's left to Abydos."

"Make sure I get in touch with them.  As to how I know….I'll just say that I remember a lot and that, well…Dr. Jackson was a most promising student."

The Delta Green member let out a deep sigh.  He turned to walk out.  "Oh yeah…I'll need access to some powerful computers.  You've got those right?"

"Yeah…but your best bet is to ask for those through the Colonel.  I don't think I could give you that kind of clearance."