[Here we go. Unless there's any objections, this'll be the final pre-release version. C&C requested.] ---BEGIN--- //"Main Title 4th Season" Christopher Franke, _Babylon 5_// VRDET- The Marraketh Connection Introitus: Praeceps Transito Spatium by Sean M. Breen ...we came in? In the beyond infinite that makes up what sentients call the Multiverse, there are many powerful forces at work. Most of these forces, that we, in our limited understanding, could conceivably call "gods," are opposed to each other in one form or another. Often, they clash in titanic battles, sounding clarion calls that echo in the emptiness, unleashing powers that could destabilize galaxies, all in their rush to conquer each other, to *win* above all things. Their battles are told and retold in legends throughout time and space. This is not one of those battles. Or rather, let us say that this is related, after a fashion, to one of those battles, the most important, if we are to believe the theologians and the bards. We shall begin this missive on a plane where the gods are *not* attempting to beat each other's brains out, but where they send mortals of all shapes and sizes to do the dirty work *for* them. Sometimes, for all their foolishness, the gods do something halfway intelligent. This story truly began some nineteen years previous, when a great Demon came to a small kingdom, and a child was born to proud parents in this same kingdom, but this part of the story has been told by other bards; we shall not worry ourselves about it now. Instead, we shall begin our story inside of a mountain, in Colorado, an insignificant backwater of a backwater world in a backwater reality. It is a quiet, restful place, in it's own unique way. And it is here that we shall begin our story... *** VRDET HEADQUARTERS, 09:00:00 HRS BASE TIME Just another day at VRDET. The cavernous mountain headquarters of the Verthandic Rangers, formerly that of the Evil Geniuses for a Better Tomorrow, buzzed with activity, as various technicians and operatives scurried about, working on research projects, moving between training centers, getting resettled after a rather hurried move from old quarters, or just goofing off in general. From his office on the second level, Malaclypse the Seeker, mad scientist at large and all-around Mysterious Person[tm], was practicing the ancient art of "pretending to work." This was not to say that he wasn't being even remotely *productive,* simply that he wasn't working at it. In front of his desk, several viewscreens floated unsupported. To the right, a complex aircraft design rotated in wireframe, changing subtly as the designer (who was using a terminal somewhere in the vast laybrinth of R&D offices and was totally unaware of Mal's snooping) made alterations to the design. In the center, a collage of screens showed various terrain maps, each screen displaying a different country. To the right, a fair-sized display was running the latest episode of _Babylon 5_. Mal was alternating between paying attention to the screens and making notes in a thick book entitled "SECRETS OF THE UNIVERSE; 5th Standard Edition." The whole tableau was lit by an ornate silver brazier standing in the rear of the office. The dim light could not find the granite roof, giving the impression that the room was almost infinite in size, instead of merely being really really big. //"J Contemplates" Danny Elfman, _MIB, The Score_// The brazier flared, the flames changing color. The flames curled up, forming a circle, from which a shadowy figure regarded Malaclypse's back. "Seeker, report," it boomed. Mal didn't flinch, twitch, or even turn around. "Oh, hello," Mal said evenly, "what can I do for you today?" "You can give me a report. The Five are getting anxious, and you *know* what happens when they get anxious. There are some concerns that the Project may be in jeopardy, and your... reluctance to submit critical information on a regular basis has not consoled them." Mal sighed. "Look, Watcher, in the first place, the information needed for the Project isn't available to the last damn decimal place. Second, if I go looking for the info, high- ranking Jihaddi or not, *somebody* will get suspicious. Finally, the Project has been moving along for nearly ten thousand years, it sure as hell can wait six weeks for my reports. "Tell the Five that I'll have a report, along with as much information on Jihaddi/Wyrm military capabilities as I can locate without arousing suspicion, within the next week, barring accident. Will that keep the Five from panicking and doing something stupid like, say, destabilizing global economy or weather patterns?" "I believe it will, Seeker. I suggest that you get that information to them. Otherwise, I might have to show up in person." The flames died down, and the Watcher vanished. Mal turned around, made sure that the brazier was burning low, then pushed a key on his desk. "*yawn* Yeah, yeah, like that's a threat, Watcher. Minerva, I need a B&E job on TRES, DE, and LoD databases. Pull everything you can find and copy it to a file on the private server. And for goddess' sake, don't let them know about it." "Roger-dodger, boss." One task done; only another six million left to do. *** 14:00:00 HRS BASE TIME TIME ELAPSED FROM ABDUCTION: >01:00:00 The day proceeded in a fairly lazy fashion. Ever since the end of Operation Home Front, B'harnate activity had been at an all-time low. Most of the VRDET crew were taking advantage of the lull, and getting in some hard-earned vacation time. Katze, Cyo, and Calc were off enjoying the sights and sounds of Chicago, Nex was off somewhere, probably annoying the bejeezus out of some poor lackey, and Mal was keeping himself entertained with a new Asimov novel (don't ask). Mal was *just* getting to the really interesting parts of his book when... "MAL!!" Nex burst into the office in midair, landing neatly on Mal's desk. "Oops, sorry 'bout the footprints," she paused to look where she was standing and hopped to the floor. "Kat's gone. She's been stolen..." Mal was glaring at her "...or something. I said I was sorry! Anyways, Cal and Cyo called Phoenix and he came to find us but we ran into each other at the hallway and he said to come get you because he's supposed to call Cal back so hurry up!" Nex then popped back out of the office. Mal blinked as Nex Cheshire-Catted out of his office, blinked again as he attempted to parse exactly what she had said, then shrugged, stood up, and walked swiftly down to the Comms office. Phoenix and Nex were sitting at a viewer terminal; Phoe was working the controls, while Nex was sitting beside him with an anxious expression. As Mal walked in, Nex looked up. "You took your sweet time getting here," she said. Mal replied with as much dignity he could muster. "Well, unlike *some* people, I don't teleport wildly all over the place. Now would somebody please explain, *slowly,* what the hell is going on?" Phoe didn't explain, just punched some buttons, and Calc popped up on a big screen at the front of the chamber. "I'm on way back to HQ with Cyo," Calc said. "What happened to Kat?" Mal said, seriously losing patience. "Well, listen to this first, and tell me what you think," Calc said as he leaned forward and hit a few buttons. A song started playing. "o/~ Don't you know we're riding, on the Marraketh Express...o/~" "Isn't that something Kat listens to all the time?" Nex asked. "Enh, I wouldn't know," Phoe said. "Never heard it." "_Marrakesh Express,_ by Crosby, Stills, and Nash. Great song," Mal stated. Everybody looked at him kinda funny. "What?" "Listen closely to the chorus," Calc said. Phoe tapped a key and the volume increased. "o/~ Don't you know we're riding, on the *Marraketh* Express....o/~" "Marraketh??" Nex said. "Yes," Calc said. "What's that?" Phoe asked. "That," Mal said in his usual dry manner, "is where Katze is originally from. It's another dimension." "Oh.." Phoe said, puzzled. "So what does the song mean?" "I think that's where she's been taken," Calc said. "We need to organize an expedition, and fast," Nex said. "Mal, get the Gateway ready Phoe, you go prepare the communications equipment for the trip. I'm going to start calling people in. Calc, when are you gonna to be getting here?" "In about 30 minutes," Calc said. "Good, I'll need your help organizing this," Nex said. "Come to my office as soon as you get here." "OK," Calc said, and cut off the transmission. The VR logo replaced his face on the screen. Nex turned and faced Mal and Phoe. "Well, let's get moving... we've got to save Katze!" Phoe and Mal nodded, everyone splitting up to start their preprations. VRDET SITUATION ROOM TIME ELAPSED FROM ABDUCTION: >1:30:00 The assembled Rangers were sitting around the Situation Room table, conversing amongst themselves. Naturally, they were all curious about what the whole fuss was about. Mal stepped up to the podium in front. "Ahem." The Rangers, engrossed in conversation, completely ignored him. "*Ahem.*" No response. "AHEM." Still no response. Mal sighed and pulled a five-pound sledgehammer out of his coat pocket (what, you mean *you* don't carry a sledge in *your* coat?), raised it high, and dropped it on the podium with a resounding **WHAM**. Everybody looked up sharply at the sound, with a corresponding hairline crack running down the center of the podium. "Right. Now that I have your *attention,* we can begin the briefing. "Approximately one hour ago, High Councillor Katze Brenner was abducted by previously unknown Wyrm forces. It is our belief that she has been taken to the nation of Marraketh for interrogation and Goddess-knows-what. "Here's the kicker, though; Marraketh lies in another dimension. Specifically, the dimension coded 00-07-00. Fortunately, though, the prototype Gateway can reach Marraketh with... some ease, so we can mount a rescue mission. Seeing as how we're still in the process of getting reorganized, the people in this room represent our strike force. We can't set any more through the gate, anyway, so don't expect backup forces to be charging to your rescue if you screw up. "Now, this is what we know about Marraketh: Intel is sketchy at best, but we figure a population of around several hundred thousand, most of which are farmers. The capitol city is called Rhye, assume population of about ten thou, located approximately at the center of the country. "Tech-wise, Marraketh looks like early Renaissance Italy; that means mostly swords, pikes, and longbows, and no powder weapons to speak of. However, they're really big on magic use, so be prepared for attack spells of any kind. "We're also figuring that Marraketh has been under the Wyrm's thumb for the last two decades." Some consternation at this from the ranks. "Expect lots of spoungin and wyrm-minions, but don't shoot 'em unless you have to; we don't want to make any more enemies than is absolutely necessary. "Now, let me emphasize for the more... ah... physically inclined of you, this is not a search and destroy mission, this is a rescue operation. We're not doing this to run amuck and cause massive amounts of property damage; we're going in to get Katze back. If I happen to hear about random damage done for the sake of random damage, I'll be unhappy. And you don't want to see me unhappy. "Allright, mission commander is Nexxus, with Commander Aris as XO. For the R&D people hitching along, Byrnhild is in charge, with Selvane as her backup. Any questions? "Good. Then Godspeed, people. Get your gear and report to Dimensional Research in ten minutes. Dismissed!" The meeting broke up, and Mal quietly and quickly exited the room on his way to the Dimensional Research Lab. Before he got twenty feet down the hall, Nex 'ported herself in his path. "How did you know all that about Marraketh, Mal? I know Cal didn't know that and Katze didn't know that and I certainly didn't know that-- or not all of it-- so how the *hell* did you find out all of that?" Mal considered this, then said, "I hear all, Nex, and I know all. What I *tell* is my own buisness. Make of that what you will. Now, if you'll excuse me, I've got a Gateway to open up." Mal brushed past Nex, who looked back at him, confused and slightly paranoid. *** DIMENSONAL RESEARCH LAB, 14:15:00 HRS BASE TIME TIME ELAPSED FROM ABDUCTION: >01:45:00 "Ladies and gentlemen, word just came down the pike that we've... misplaced, a High Councilor. In order to stage a rescue mission, we have to open that beast up and send a team through. Now, I know that we haven't sent anything through much larger than a breadbox, but in this case, we don't have much of a choice. Prepare the Gateway for full power, it's time to rock and roll." //"Good to Go" Alan Silvestri, _Contact_ soundtrack// The generator loomed in the dim light of the room; a Gibsonian nightmare of wires and circuits strung together. Tesla coils and Van der Graf generators were scattered about the foot of the monster, connected in odd patterns to great enigmatic slabs of machinery. The bulk gathered around a metal stage set in the center of the room like a modernized Stonehenge. At its base, a series of control panels and free-floating holoscreens were cast willy-nilly about the floor. The total effect upon the unwary was akin to a monument, a massive cathedral dedicated to worshipping Technology. "Allright, let's see what this baby can do. Begin power up sequence." "Power up engaged. Ten seconds to max battery pull." "Prepare to switch to main generators on my mark... three, two, one, *mark!*" The lights blinked once as the generator began to feed directly from the reactors hidden deep beneath the base. The faint hum in the air became a steady growling sound. "Power feed is increasing steadily towards maximum. All systems are GO." "Roger that. Control 3, start opening her up. Navigation, get me a lock on universe zero, zero, zero, seven, zero, zero Beta." The growl became a shriek, as mysterious energies started to subtly, then not so subtly, pull open a hole in the fabric of reality. The equipment began to vibrate as the rift grew ever larger, swirling in a mist of photons. "Aperture is at maximum, seeking a stable configuration." **COORDINATES: UNIVERSE 00-07-00B** **NAVIGATION SYSTEM LOCKED** "We have a lock on zero, zero, zero, seven, zero, zero Beta. Repeat, we have a confirmed lock." "Roger, Navigation. Three, do we have a stable Gate yet?" "Standby, Control. We're still searching." The nearly complete Gate swirled on the transit stage, shifting through every shape known to geometry, and some which aren't. Flashes of colored light exploded through the cavern. Finally, the Gate settled into a translucent bubble, floating gently inches above the stage. "Stable configuration reached, Control." "Understood, Three. Good job, people. You'll all being getting a raise after this." Mal pushed an intercom button. "Send 'em in." The valiant rescue team filed in, each carrying a full load of gear, and most of them looking fairly anxious at the thought of stepping across dimensions. They stood clustered together, looking up at the cylopean generator with awe. Nex *popped* over from the group to where Mal was standing. "Are we all set?" she inquired. Mal nodded. "The Gate is open, and should put you all down on the outskirts of Marraketh. If not, well, we'll refund your Frequent Flyer points." "Gotcha." Nex returned to the group, and proceeded to herd them through the Gate. Mal returned to overseeing the controls. And then all hell broke loose. Alarms began sounding on almost all of the consoles. Huge red lights hidden in the ceiling began to flash, while steam began to pour from vents marked "Emergency Steam." The generator itself howled like a cabbit caught in a MixMaster. "Three! What the fuck is going on?" snapped Mal. "The Gate's destabilizing! We're losing the connection!" "Sir!" cried a tech at another console. "Power consumption is hitting redline! Systems are starting to burn themselves out!" Mal swore loudly in several different languages, then spun about to check the generator itself. To his surprise, Aris and Selvane were hemming and hawing at the threshold of the Gate, while above them, the generator was beginning to spark in a quite unhealthy manner. "Get in the fucking portal or you're all staying home! It's about to collapse!" Mal yelled. They jumped through, seconds before the portal dissolved back into a cloud of light. Then the cloud vanished with a roar of exploding machinery. For a moment, there was no noise. "Navigation," Mal said quietly, "can we confirm transit?" The navigation tech checked his board. "Confirm, everything that went through this end came out on the other end. There may have been some scattering from the overload, though." "Understood." Mal looked at the massive pile of scrap metal before him, the only sound the crackling of burning electronics. "Well, *shit.*" TO BE CONTINUED Isn't this where... //"After, in the dark" Kanno Yoko, _Macross Plus_ soundtrack// ** "Introitus: Praeceps Transito Spatium" (c)1998 Sean M. Breen The Marraketh Connection (c)1997-1998 Kat Templeton & James Renken