Star Wars Altered Universe: Collision Course

Chapter 1: Oh, Brother... Where Are We?

Author’s Note: Greetings, everyone, and welcome to a whole new adventure in my Star Wars Altered Universe series!

Okay, what you’re about to embark on is a very unique journey, so I think a little background is in order here to help put things into the proper perspective. First off, let me say that, if you haven’t read at least one of my previous stories, then you might find yourself to be a bit lost if you start with this adventure. Questions like ‘Padmé’s a Jedi?’, or ‘Who are Shanda Lars?’ or even ‘When did Anakin and Padmé have a third child?’ are all answered in Episodes 2 through 4. Keep in mind, also, that 3.5 and 4 are still works in progress, so some things you encounter here may be mysteries that will be answered in the others. So, long story short (no pun intended), my Altered Universe is kinda like ‘The Lord of the Rings’ - it all goes together, though I dare not mean to compare my meager works to Tolkien’s classics.

Secondly, what you’re about to read is something that I have received MANY requests to write. This work is very unique, and can be taken as a ‘sidebar’ adventure to my main story, if you will, something that I’m writing for some very nice people who’ve requested time and again that I do so. And, I must admit, it sounded like a fun adventure, and it presents a great challenge as well.

Crossover fiction is something that can be great fun to read, as we see very creative people take multiple worlds that we’ve grown so very fond of and blend them together. It’s hard work, though, especially if you want to make sure that the fiction remains believable and feasible; this is something I’ve always tried to maintain in my own writing, because it adds so much to the quality and enjoyment of the work, if you can actually see it happening in the original story line.

So, after receiving many requests to do such a story, and giving it a great deal of thought, I decided that it would be fun to take my Altered Universe and blend it, for this adventure, with another that many of us have grown exceptionally fond of, myself included. While this story can be taken as a completely separate work from my other series, which involves the rewrite of the Star Wars saga itself, I plan to make it fit seamlessly into the other Episodes; what you read here should in no way detract from your enjoyment of the original stories, and if you skip it over altogether, you won’t miss anything.

So, to all of you who’ve asked me to write this, I would like to offer my humble thanks for thinking so highly of my stories, and allowing me to pen this adventure for you, which I now, just as humbly, submit for your reading enjoyment. I hope that you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoy writing them for you.

I hope you all enjoy this very unique adventure. And, as always, may the Force be with you... no matter what galaxy you happen to call home!... Scott :)

------

A long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away...

Time is a difficult concept, especially when considered by those who find themselves linear subjects to it.

It is a dark time for the fledgling Rebellion. Despite their best efforts, Darth Vader’s tyrannical rule grows day by day, and it has been all but impossible for the Rebellion to survive, as the Dark Lord’s forces continue to pursue the small group of rebels, and the Jedi who lead them, to the ends of the Republic.

But survive they have, in no small part due to the heroic and unceasing efforts of one small, dedicated family of Jedi Knights.

Ten years have passed, since the fateful day when the first shots of the Rebellion were fired in the angry skies over Coruscant. Since that time, Jedi Masters Anakin Skywalker and Obi-Wan Kenobi have continued to guide the New Council, along with Master Yoda, as the Jedi now work as silent, ghostly avengers alongside the growing rebel forces, striking again and again at the heart of the Empire’s growing regime.

It has been a difficult balancing act for Anakin and his wife, Padmé. Now a Jedi Knight herself, having completed her trials long ago, she and her husband have successfully managed to conceal their rolls as Jedi and leaders of the growing resistance from their children, who continue to grow, both in body and with the Force, under the loving care and guidance of their parents.

Yet, there have been plentiful moments of joy intermingled with the continual strife and struggle that fills their lives. Anakin and Padmé’s home life is happy, indeed; their own love for each other has continued to grow, as always, and they have watched, quite proudly, as Luke and Leia have grown into happy young pre-teens. Two years after they rescued Obi-Wan and his young padawan, Shanda Lars, from the clutches of Darth Vader himself, Anakin and Padmé’s lives were blessed yet again with the birth of their third child. Lana, their youngest daughter, was a happy surprise indeed, as Anakin and Padmé both believed that the injuries she’d suffered long ago on Mustafar would prevent her from bearing any more children; but the Force, it seemed, felt otherwise, adding yet another member to their growing family.

As we join them, Anakin and Padmé Skywalker are returning home to Naboo with their children from an extended stay on Anakin’s old home-world of Tatooine, where he, Padmé, and his old mentor have spent the last several weeks overseeing the Trials of a handful of young padawans, some of the same ones they saved from Palpatine’s murderous rampage over a decade ago. Anakin’s old mentor, Obi-Wan Kenobi, and their adopted niece Shanda Lars, who is now about to enter the Trials herself, are also with them, traveling to Naboo for a rare, and welcome, holiday from the sand and heat of the arid desert planet they have called home for so long.

But fate, it seems, has something different in mind for our intrepid little band.

In an effort to avoid an Imperial blockade that has paralyzed the primary trade routes between the old Republic systems, Anakin has brought them on a circuitous course back to Naboo through the Outer Rim territories. But, just as it seems their attempt to go unnoticed has been a resounding success, their ship encounters a strange object floating through space, an object that will take them on one of the most amazing journeys they have ever encountered.

------

It had been a long, quiet journey so far, and for that he was thankful.

Anakin leaned back in the pilot’s chair; he yawned, quite deeply, stretching his arms high over his head. The long, round-about route he and Artoo had brought the Avenger on through the Outer Rim territories added a full six hours to their journey back to their familiar, green and blue homeworld of Naboo, and those hours had passed slowly, very slowly indeed.

He was ready to get home, more so than he could remember in a long, long time; he missed Naboo, with its lush green forests and crystal blue waters. I hate sand, he had once told Padmé, long ago, when they had stood together on that balcony, just days before both of their lives had changed forever.

And I still do, he thought to himself, his eyes still closed, as that conversation drifted slowly through his calm, peaceful mind. They had spent the better part of the last two weeks up to their knees in it, and even Padmé had told him, just several nights before, as she combed the last bits of the coarse, golden grains from her beautiful, curly brown hair that she was tired of it, too.

“It’s everywhere,” she sighed, quite frustrated, as she flopped down onto the bed beside him, dusting her hands over the silk nightgown she was wearing. “Look,” she said, watching as a few more grains fell to the floor beside their bed, “It’s even in the sheets, and Beru just washed them this morning.”

He chuckled quietly to himself, as he remembered how she’d jutted out her lip, a sad, playful pout on her face as she flopped back onto the pillow beside him and sighed, so dejectedly. It had worked, just as she’d wanted it to, just as she knew it would; he’d gotten up, putting his childhood experience on that barren, dusty planet to good use, and cleaned their bed until not one grain of the course, bothersome material remained.

Anakin never complained, though, not once, since the two of them had been together; that look, that pout, possessed a power greater than anything else he knew of in the universe, and she wielded it more efficiently than her own light saber. Yet he knew, deep in his heart, that she only used it when she was feeling tired and vulnerable, or when she simply wanted nothing more than to be fussed over, something that he took great delight in doing, anyway. It was, after all, just one of the many games the two of them played with each other.

She wasn’t the only one who’d been tired that night, though, and he yawned again as he stretched even harder. It was hard to believe, he thought to himself, that enough time had passed that the first of the younglings that he and Obi-Wan had rescued were as old as they were. He’d forgotten, as the years had slowly passed, how grueling the Trials could be, not only for those enduring them, but for the ones overseeing them as well. It had been a long, hot two weeks that he, Padmé, and Obi-Wan had spent in the desert with Yoda and the other Council members, overseeing those trials, while Luke, Leia, and Lana had spent their days under Owen and Beru’s watchful eyes. He was ready, as ready as she was, to spend the next two weeks at Sola’s, with nothing but good food, blue skies, cool breezes, and crystal clear water to renew their bodies and spirits.

This particular vacation was going to be even more enjoyable, though. He and Padmé had managed, with no small amount of begging and pleading, to convince his old master to join them, and he could still hear the squeals of delight from Luke, Leia and Lana as they realized that ‘Ol’ Ben’, as they liked to call him, and their cousin Shanda would be joining them on the journey home. It had been a long time, a long time indeed, since he and Obi-Wan had spent any time together apart from the heavy burdens that usually accompanied such pairings, and he was looking forward to it, almost as much as Obi-Wan was. It had been a long time, he thought to himself, as he stretched and groaned again, since he and his old master had gotten a chance to spar with his old practice sabers; he would have to make sure they remedied that at their earliest convenience.

“What’s the matter, baby?” he heard that wonderful, sweet voice ask, as he suddenly felt her arms wrap tightly around him from behind. “You getting sleepy?” she asked quietly, as she pressed her cheek next to his and kissed him fondly.

“Ooooh, just a bit,” Anakin groaned with a smile, wrapping his arms around her neck as she hugged him tightly; he closed his eyes again, as she leaned a bit closer and kissed him, quite tenderly and passionately.

“Wow,” he whispered, smiling brightly as he slowly opened his eyes and looked into her lovely brown eyes as she returned his smile. “What was that for?”

“’Cause I love you, that’s all,” Padmé replied, as she walked slowly around beside the Avenger’s pilot’s seat and stood beside him. “How are you holding up?”

“Oh, I’m fine,” Anakin sighed, yawning again as she sat down in his lap and wrapped her arms around his neck as he held her tightly. “Artoo’s doing most of the work right now, anyway,” he said, grinning up at her as he watched her glance over to where their faithful little astrodroid sat at his control station, quietly monitoring the ship’s systems as they whisked smoothly through space.

“How much longer till we get home?” Padmé asked, turning her attention to the navigational computer beside them as Anakin reached over and tapped the controls with his left hand.

“About two more hours,” he sighed, as he watched the calculations appear on the screen beside them. “We’re coming up on Kamino now,” he said, leaning back in his chair as Padmé snuggled down in his arms and laid her head on his shoulder. “Once we get clear of the Ple’tana asteroid belt, then Artoo can kick us back up to full power, and maybe we can shave a little time off of that, though,” he said, closing his eyes again.

“Good,” Padmé sighed, quite contentedly, yawning herself as she closed her own eyes. “Shanda and the kids are playing de’zhak’bo again, for the umpteenth time,” she giggled, as she felt him do the same. “Threepio took my place, I couldn’t stand to play another hand.”

“Did you win?” Anakin asked, opening his eyes and glancing over at her, as she shook her head slowly, her curly brown hair cascading over his shoulder.

“Of course not,” she replied, laughing quietly to herself. “Shanda wins every other hand. I think she’s using her Force powers to stack the deck, but she won’t admit it,” she said, opening her eyes and smiling back at him.

“Speaking of cheats and scoundrels, where’s Obi-Wan?” Anakin asked, laughing quietly as he looked around the cockpit behind them; he’d dozed off a bit earlier, and now his old master was nowhere to be seen.

“He was back there in the cargo hold, at the secondary console, last time I saw him,” she said, her eyes still closed as she gently nuzzled the tip of her nose against his cheek. “He said something about Artoo finding something strange on the long range sensors, I don’t know,” she sighed, shaking her head slowly. “I think he and Artoo are both just going stir crazy, that’s all.”

“So,” she whispered, as she suddenly began to kiss his neck very softly. “Everybody else is busy,” she said, opening her eyes and smiling at him as he turned his face toward hers. “Whatcha wanna do to pass the time away?”

She giggled, as she felt him shift sideways in the pilot’s chair a bit. “I’ve got an idea or two,” he said, slipping his arm under hers and gently rubbing the small of her back as she melted into his strong embrace. “Wanna make out?” he asked, smiling as brightly as she was.

“I thought you’d never ask,” she giggled, brushing her lips lightly over his as she pulled him close; she sighed, almost as deeply as he did, as his lips met hers, over and over again, as their hearts beat in perfect, happy harmony with one another, just as they had each day for so very, very long.

------

“Find anything interesting on there, Master?” Shanda asked, tucking her hands into the pockets of her skirt and grinning slyly at him as she walked up to join him at the console.

“Yes, actually,” Obi-Wan replied, nodding his bearded head, as he turned his face up to his young apprentice. “Well,” he said, a pleasant smile replacing the thoughtful frown that had been there only moments before, “I see you’ve changed clothes.”

“Yes, I did,” Shanda replied, nodding her head firmly, her dusky red hair bouncing around her shoulders as she looked down and surveyed the new skirt and short-sleeved tunic her mother had given her just before they’d left. “It’s been so long since I’ve gotten to wear anything like this, I thought I’d go ahead and enjoy it,” she said, returning his smile as she looked back up at him.

“Well, you wear it very well,” Obi-Wan replied, smiling approvingly at her as she grinned back at him, her cheeks filling with a rosy pink color that went quite well with her hair. “You’re quite positively the loveliest padawan I’ve ever had,” he chuckled, leaning back in his seat at the console as she shot him an amused smirk.

“Thanks,” she said, smiling slyly as she watched her master chuckle and turn his attention back to the display in front of him. “At least I know now that I’m prettier than Uncle Anakin,” she sighed, as she walked up and stood beside him. “So what’s got you so interested, anyway, Master?” she asked, as she turned her own attention toward the screen.

“Artoo and I picked this up on the ship’s long range sensors about thirty minutes ago,” Obi-Wan said, pointing toward the blurry image on the display in front of him. “It looks like a probe of some type, but I’ve never seen power signatures like these before,” he said, tapping the controls on the display in front of him as he called up the logarithmic plot of the mysterious object’s power curves.

“Wow,” Shanda said, frowning thoughtfully as she crouched down beside him. “Those are unusual,” she said, as she watched the sine waves on the plot fluctuate wildly, in a consistently rhythmic pattern. “It looks almost like some sort of spacial disturbance, but I’ve never seen anything so concentrated before.”

“Me, either,” Obi-Wan replied, shaking his head as he leaned back in his chair and stroked his gray-streaked beard thoughtfully. “I know we probably shouldn’t,” he sighed, as he glanced over at his padawan again, “but I’d love to take a closer look at this thing. Do you think we can talk Anakin into having Artoo take us out of hyperspace long enough to give it a quick look see?”

“I don’t see why not,” Shanda replied, smiling as she shrugged her shoulders. “He’s more into strange technical toys than you are,” she sighed, watching as Obi-Wan laughed quietly, nodding his head in agreement. “He’d probably be upset it we didn’t.”

“Well, come on then,” Obi-Wan said, reaching over and patting her soundly on the shoulder as he stood up from his chair. “Let’s go see if we can get your uncle to add a few more minutes to the ride home.”

------

“All right, you two, that’s enough,” Obi-Wan chuckled, grinning slyly as he and Shanda walked into the cockpit to find Anakin and Padmé locked in each other’s embrace, like a couple of impassioned teenagers. “There’ll be plenty of time for that when we get home.”

“They’re at it again,” Shanda giggled, watching as Padmé sighed deeply and dropped her head onto Anakin’s shoulder. “Leia’s right, you can’t leave them alone for five minutes,” she said, smiling brightly as she watched her aunt and uncle look up at her from the pilot’s chair.

“Goodness, it got crowded in here quick, didn’t it?” Padmé said, as she and Anakin exchanged a sly smirk. “And we were having such a wonderful, quiet, private moment,” she growled through her teeth, as she glared up at Obi-Wan, her arms still wrapped tightly around Anakin’s neck, as he flopped down in the copilot’s seat beside them.

“You two are incorrigible,” Obi-Wan laughed, shaking his head as he leaned over and tapped the control near the center of the Avenger’s primary console. “Here, pry yourselves apart for just a minute and take a look at this,” he said, tossing Padmé a wink as she sighed and grinned back at him, tightening her grip around Anakin’s neck.

“We’ll look,” she said, an air of disgust in her voice as she shifted in Anakin’s lap so that he could see the display a little better. “But this better be good,” she said, sitting up a bit as she and Shanda exchanged a smile.

“Oh, it is, I promise,” Obi-Wan replied, nodding his head firmly as he transferred the data from the station he’d been working on in the cargo hold to the large, central computer on the Avenger’s main console. “Take a look at this,” he said, turning a curious, eager grin toward his old padawan. “Artoo picked this up on the long range sensors a little while ago, while you were dozing. What do you make of this, Anakin?”

“Whoa,” Anakin sighed, a deeply curious, befuddled look on his face as he and Padmé both leaned closer to the console, examining the tactical image on the ship’s main display with great interest. “Look at those power curves,” he said, a tone of fascination clearly growing in his voice as he watched the strange energy levels that emanated from the small, oblong device radiate out in a complete circle around it.

“What kind of energy is that?” Padmé asked, her own curiosity growing, as she watched the strange, oscillating waves radiate out in a counter-clockwise direction from the small device’s center.

“That’s what your droid and I have been trying to figure out,” Obi-Wan said, shaking his head as he watched Anakin rotate the tactical display along its z-axis. “It looks like some form of spacial distortion field, but I’ve never seen anything like it generated by a synthetic object before,” he said.

“I wonder if it’s some kind of beacon, or a ship’s transponder that might have malfunctioned,” Padmé mused, as she studied the device’s small, rectangular shape, placing her arm around Anakin’s shoulders as Shanda walked up close beside them.

“I don’t know, and neither does Artoo,” Obi-Wan replied, glancing over at his companions. “But it’s definitely got my curiosity peaked.”

“So, what do you think, Anakin?” Obi-Wan asked, raising his eyebrows, an eager, curious smile on his weathered, bearded face. “We haven’t gone treasure hunting in a long time,” he said, nodding his head toward the strange image on the Avenger’s main display. “The Empire has no presence here, in this sector, so there shouldn’t be any danger. What do you say we drop out of hyperspace for a bit and check this thing out?”

“It certainly is strange,” Anakin replied, quite thoughtfully, as he looked back at the curious image on the computer display again. “I don’t know, what do you think?” Anakin asked, turning his face and attention back to his wife, as she sat in his lap, smiling down at him. “We are on vacation, after all,” he said, bouncing his own eyebrows as he grinned up at her.

“Oh, fine,” Padmé replied, nodding her head in agreement. “It might be fun, and the kids might get a chance to learn something, too,” she said, watching as Anakin and Obi-Wan exchanged wide grins that would have fit well on a couple of young schoolboy’s faces. “You drive, though,” she said, settling back into Anakin’s lap again. “He’s got his hands full,” she said, wrapping her arms tightly around his neck again as she shot Obi-Wan a sarcastic smile.

“See?” Shanda said, patting Obi-Wan’s shoulder as he looked up at her. “Told you he’d be just as interested as you were.”

“Artoo,” Obi-Wan chuckled, turning his attention back to the copilot’s station as he prepared to take control of the Avenger, “Take us out of hyperspace, and make for those power fluctuations,” he said, glancing over at the little droid as his bright electronic whistle echoed through the cockpit. “Let’s go see what’s up with this thing.”

------

“What’s going on?” Leia asked, her dark pigtails bounding around her shoulders as she and her brother ran into the cockpit, close on each other’s heels. “We heard the hyperdrive disengage,” she said, trotting up to her mother’s side as she stood behind the pilot’s seat. “Is something wrong?”

“No, everything’s fine. We just stopped for just a minute,” Padmé replied, placing her hand on Leia’s shoulder as she pointed out of the cockpit window ahead of them. “Artoo picked up something pretty strange on the sensors, and your father and Ben wanted to take a look at it,” she said, smiling as Luke and Leia both squeezed in between the pilot and copilot’s station, straining to catch a glimpse of the strange, silver device that floated several thousand meters off the Avenger’s bow.

“Settle down, you two,” Padmé said, as she watched her two children shove and frown at each other a bit, as they struggled for the best viewing position in the narrow gap between the pilot and copilot’s station, and then gazed out the ship’s window. “Where’s your little sister?”

“She’s fine, she’s still playing with Threepio,” Leia said, waving her hand nonchalantly as she stared with keen interest at the slowly rotating, shiny device. “What is that thing, Daddy?” she asked, quite excitedly, leaning over the arm of her father’s chair as she looked at the console he was working on.

“We’re not sure, honey,” Anakin replied, glancing up at his daughter as he felt her hand on his arm; he smiled, as he sensed the keen interest and excitement that flowed through her. “We think it’s some kind of probe,” he continued, turning his eyes back toward his workstation again, “but we’ve never seen anything like it before.”

“Wow,” Leia replied, turning her attention toward Obi-Wan. “You either, Mister Kenobi?”

“No, Leia,” Obi-Wan replied, smiling as he, too, sensed the excitement in Anakin’s children. They were much like their father had been at that age, so long ago, so very eager to learn and experience anything that happened to present itself at any moment. It was a family trait, that much was certain, he thought to himself, as he gestured toward the screen in front of him. “I’ve seen a lot of strange things over the years, but this one is pretty unusual.”

“Wow,” Leia sighed again, shaking her head as she stood up and folded her arms across the chest of her bright white tunic, her dark brown braids hanging over her shoulders. “Then it must be really, really old if you or Daddy have never seen it,” she sighed, shaking her head forlornly, as she smiled up at her mother.

“Leia!” Padmé laughed, elbowing her daughter playfully as she giggled loudly, watching as her father and Ben exchanged a sarcastic glance. “That wasn’t very nice,” she laughed, as she and Luke began to shove each other again.

“Maybe it’s really, really new,” Anakin quipped sarcastically, turning his eyes up to his two children as they continued their little sparing match beside them. “And go back to the cargo hold, if you two want to wrestle,” he said, watching the two of them as they instantly sprang to attention and nodded obediently. “I’ve told you before, no horseplay in the cockpit. Remember?”

“Yes, sir,” they both replied in unison, smiling politely as their father eyed them warily; Padmé smiled, as they both stood there like good little soldiers, their hands folded behind their backs, as they watched their father quietly turn his attention back to the display in front of him.

That was all it took, most of the time, to keep their two rambunctious pre-teens in line; they could both be a handful, at times, but rare was the occasion when a firm word and a cold stare from their father’s dark blue eyes couldn’t pull them back in line.

“So if it’s a probe, what’s it looking for?” Luke asked, shrugging his shoulders as his mother reached over and pushed his long, shaggy bangs out of eyes.

“That’s just it,” Anakin sighed, shaking his head as he leaned back in the pilot’s chair, folding his arms across his chest. “It doesn’t seem to be looking for anything, or doing anything, for that matter,” he said, as he and his son exchanged a puzzled glance. “All it’s doing is sitting there, sending out these weird looking waves of energy,” he said, gesturing toward the oscillating tactical plot on the Avenger’s main view screen.

“I still think you’re both looking at it from the wrong angle,” Padmé mused, as she placed her hands gently on Anakin’s shoulders, as he and Obi-Wan looked up at her. “You’re assuming that it’s a probe, but if it is, then why isn’t it going anywhere?”

Anakin and Obi-Wan exchanged a curious glance, as Padmé leaned closer to the tactical display. “Boys,” she sighed, smiling slyly as she tapped the control pad with her nimble fingers. “Look, it’s completely stationary, it hasn’t moved since Artoo first found it,” she said, switching the display mode and standing up again, folding her arms across her chest. “Probes are sent out to find things, to roam the galaxy and gather information. Maybe this thing isn’t looking for anything,” she said, as she looked out at the strange, squarish device again. “Maybe it’s listening.”

“A communications device?” Obi-Wan asked, quite thoughtfully, as he watched Padmé nod her head in reply.

“Makes sense to me,” Padmé replied, shrugging her shoulders. “I mean, it doesn’t look like it’s doing anything proactive. Maybe it’s a relay station, or a communications buoy of some kind.”

“Artoo,” Anakin called, leaning back in his chair and looking at his little droid again. “Maybe Padmé’s right,” he said, glancing up at his wife as she smiled back at him. “Why don’t you bring the ship’s transmitter online, and scan for any types of communications signals?”

Artoo’s bright, cheery whistles and clicks echoed through the cockpit, as he swung his dome and sensors back to the station in front of him. He spun his data probe quickly, this way and that, as he powered up the ship’s transmitter and began to scan through the frequency range for any type of emissions, besides the strange spacial flux that emanated from the unusual device, that he could decipher.

“So what do we do, if Artoo finds out it’s some kind of radio?” Luke asked, looking back toward his father again. “We don’t want to talk to it, do we?”

“No, definitely not,” Anakin replied, shaking his head as he switched on the Avenger’s data recorders and activated the forward sensor array. “We’ll just gather as much information about it as we can and store it in the computer, so we can look at it later,” he said, glancing back out at the silent, square device as it rotated slowly in space.

“I sure would like to see what it’s using for a power source, though, to be able to generate that kind of spacial disturbance,” he mused, as he switched on the forward emitters and leaned back in his chair, gazing out the forward window thoughtfully as he reached up and took Padmé’s hand in his.

------

It had lain quiet and dormant for a long time, far longer than its creators had ever intended, as it floated lifelessly through the cold, vast expanse of space. Only its primary emitter circuits still functioned, consuming only as much power as they needed to maintain their functions. Yet now, finally, as it sensed a faint, barely traceable signal, its internal systems began to spring to life.

It switched on its primary scanner and, with a quick, circular pulse, scanned the surrounding space for the object from which that signal had come; it only took a microsecond to find it, and, as it did, a series of relays and switched began to activate, one after another, as it prepared to carry out, at long last, the function for which it had been designed.

------

Anakin, Obi-Wan, and the others turned their attention toward Artoo, as he began to whistle and chirp excitedly.

“What wrong with Artoo?” Leia asked, watching their little droid as he began to rock back and forth on his main support pylons, obviously quite upset.

She looked back at her father, as he leaned forward in the pilot’s chair and looked at the Avenger’s primary computer display. “Uh, oh,” he said, shaking his head as a serious, concerned look suddenly spread over his face. “This doesn’t look good,” he said, as Obi-Wan looked at the display with him. “This doesn’t look good at all.”

“What’s happening?” Obi-Wan asked, as he suddenly saw the tactical plot begin to fluctuate wildly.

“We’ve got to get out of here, now,” Anakin said, quite alarmed, as he reached over and began to quickly power up the Avenger’s main engines.

“Why, what’s wrong?” Padmé asked, instantly sensing the alarm in Anakin’s voice.

“The spacial distortion wave around that thing is growing, and fast,” he said, glancing up at his wife and children again. “We must had inadvertently activated it somehow, when we were trying to scan it,” he said, frantically slipping his arms into the harnesses of the pilot’s chair in which he sat.

“Artoo says it going to go critical in less that fifteen seconds,” he said, nodding quickly toward the passenger seats behind him, on the aft bulkhead. “Get yourselves strapped in,” he said, watching as Shanda, Padmé, and his children instantly bolted for the small row of seats.

“Threepio!” Padmé shouted, her thoughts instantly centering on her youngest daughter, who was still playing quietly with their tall, golden droid in the ship’s cargo hold. “Get yourself and Lana strapped in, now!” she called, her heart beginning to race in her chest, as she sat down on the bench beside Leia, frantically searching for the restraint harnesses to strap her children down.

Obi-Wan looked out of the Avenger’s forward window, as he suddenly felt the ship begin to shudder beneath them; he watched, with a growing sense of foreboding, as the strange, rectangular device began to spin, faster and faster, as brilliant arcs of blue-green plasma began to lash out at the blackness of space around them.

“I’ve got a bad feeling about this,” he sighed, doing his best to strap himself in as Artoo’s excited whistled began to fill the cockpit again.

“We’re not going to make it,” Anakin said, realizing all too quickly that there was no way he could get the Avenger’s engines online in time. “Artoo!” he called, as his fingers flew wildly across the control pads beside him, “Transfer every bit of the ship’s energy to the shields, now!” he said, glancing back over at his little droid and watching as he began to spin the control wheels at his station wildly.

“Everybody hang onto something,” he shouted, frowning deeply as the Avenger began to buck wildly from the massive waves of energy that lashed out at it, as the strange, rapidly spinning device began to glow like a white-hot star. “Now!”

Anakin and Obi-Wan threw up their hands in front of their faces, as the brilliant, blinding white flash of light suddenly illuminated the Avenger’s cockpit; Anakin turned his head, with great effort, toward the viewscreen as the incredible G-forces pushed him back into the seat.

The last thing he saw, before he and the others blacked out, was the brilliant, multi-colored tunnel that opened in front of them, as, in the blink of an eye, the Avenger, and everyone inside it, disappeared in a blinding white flash.

------

“Padmé? Padmé, can you hear me?”

She blinked her eyes, very slowly, as she heard Anakin’s familiar voice calling to her through the blur of disorientation that clouded her mind.

“What?” she asked, closing her eyes again, a wave of nausea sweeping over her as she tried to move her head. “Oooh,” she groaned, placing her hand on her stomach, as she felt Anakin’s hand on her cheek. “What... what happened?”

“Just sit still a minute, baby,” Anakin said, as he placed the cool, wet towel in her hand, and then guided them both gently to her forehead. “This’ll help. You’ll feel better in a minute.”

Padmé forced herself to turn her head and open her eyes, her mother’s instincts overriding the nausea that boiled in her stomach, as she heard Leia whimper beside her.

“Oh, Daddy, it hurts,” Leia cried softly, as Padmé struggled to sit up, alarmed by her daughter’s painful cry.

“I know it does, honey,” Anakin said, as Padmé watched him gently press another cool, damp cloth to Leia’s forehead. “And you sit back,” he said, reaching over with his free hand and gently pushing Padmé back in her seat. “You’re going to fall down and hurt yourself if you try to move so soon,” he said, watching her as she leaned back, quite reluctantly, in her seat.

“What happened?” she asked, her head swimming, deeply alarmed as she saw the blood on her daughter’s cheek.

“It’s not as bad as it looks,” Anakin replied, smiling at her reassuringly as he pressed the cool cloth gently to Leia’s forehead. “Some of the coolant canisters broke loose, and I think one of them caught her on the forehead,” he said, shaking his head as he squeezed Leia’s hand reassuringly. “It’s not bad, it’s just a cut. You can take her back to the infirmary, in a couple of minutes, as soon as your head clears.”

“Lana!” Padmé cried, as her thoughts suddenly shifted to her youngest daughter. “Where is she?” she asked, struggling to get up again, as Anakin reached over and pushed her back down in the seat.

Padmé looked up, her head still spinning, as she suddenly heard Threepio’s familiar voice. “Mistress Lana is just fine, Miss Padmé,” Threepio said, as reassuringly as he could, waving his arms at his sides as he watched her sigh and relax again, obviously relieved. “I managed to get her secured in one of the passenger’s seats before...” he paused, glancing around the smoke filled cockpit. “Before whatever caused all of this happened,” he continued, an air of confusion in his electronic voice as he turned his face back toward her again.

“She’s got a few scrapes, and a couple of bumps, but she’s just fine, Mom,” Luke said, handing his father a fresh, clean cloth as he walked quickly back into the cockpit to join them. “She’s lying down in the infirmary now, and Shanda’s with her,” he said, watching as his mother closed her eyes and swallowed hard again, nodding her head weakly.

“Why do I feel so sick?” Padmé groaned, frowning as another wave of nausea swept over her.

“I’m not sure,” Obi-Wan replied, as he sat down on the bench beside her. “We were a little nauseous too, when we first came too,” he said, glancing over at Anakin and Luke. “But it wore off pretty quickly. It seems, for whatever reason, to have affected you and the girls more than it did us,” he said, taking the towel from her and gently wiping her face.

“Lucky us,” Padmé sighed, shaking her head again.

“How are you feeling?” Obi-Wan asked, as he watched Padmé take a deep breath and try to sit up, albeit very slowly.

“A little better,” she replied, blinking her eyes hard several times, as she paused and rested her elbows on her knees. “A little loopy, but my head’s starting to clear, I think.”

“Mine hurts,” Leia whimpered, turning her eyes toward her mother as Padmé slid a bit closer to her.

“I know it does, Leia,” Padmé replied, still feeling somewhat dizzy and disoriented, as she reached over and took the cloth from Anakin’s hand. “Let me see how bad it is,” she said, gently lifting the red-tinted cloth from her daughter’s forehead.

“Oh, it’s not too bad,” she sighed, finally breathing a welcome sigh of relief, as she quickly surveyed the angry little cut. “It’s just bleeding a lot, that’s all,” she said, looking back at her daughter with a reassuring smile. “Here, hold this on it,” she said, guiding Leia’s hand to her forehead. “I’ll take you to the infirmary, and we’ll get it fixed up in no time.”

“Are you feeling up to it?” Anakin asked, standing up slowly and watching as she looked back up to him and nodded.

“I think so,” she said, taking his hand and standing up gingerly. “My head’s starting to clear, pretty quickly now,” she sighed, squeezing his hand as she took a long deep breath and exhaled, very slowly.

“Okay,” Anakin sighed, somewhat reluctantly, as she smiled up at him. “You go with them, Luke, just the same,” he said, as Luke carefully helped his sister up to her feet. “You too, Threepio,” he said, turning his attention to the tall, golden droid as he stood quietly by them. “Padmé might need a little help.”

“Of course, Master Ani,” Threepio replied, his actuator motors whining smoothly as he nodded his head and shuffled back out of the way, giving Luke plenty of room as he helped Leia toward the cockpit door.

“Go slow, Sis,” Luke said, holding tightly to Leia’s arm, as she nodded her head gingerly in reply. “It’s just your head, so far,” he said, grinning slyly at her as she paused and looked over at him. “Fall down again and you might hurt something important.”

“Ha ha, very funny,” Leia growled, squeezing his arm tightly; she knew in her heart, though, that it was just Luke’s way of telling her he was worried about her, and she smiled, although a bit painfully, as her mother followed along close behind them.

“We’ll be back in a bit,” Padmé said, turning and giving Anakin and Obi-Wan a reassuring nod. “You two see if you can figure out what happened,” she said, frowning as she looked up at the smoke that filled the cockpit. “And see if you can get this smoke out of here,” she said, coughing as she did so. “It smells terrible.”

“Yes, my lady,” Anakin replied, smiling slyly at her as she shot him the same smirk she always did, whenever he called her that, and he watched as she and the children, with Threepio trailing close behind, disappeared down the corridor that led to the back of the ship.

“Now,” Anakin sighed, reaching up and rubbing his own head, grimacing painfully as they walked slowly toward the ship’s console, “Just what the hell did happen to us?” he asked, leaning against the bulkhead for a moment as he tried to regain his wits.

“I don’t know, but whatever it was, I’ll be perfectly happy if we never do it again,” Obi-Wan groaned, as he flopped down in the copilot’s seat. “How about you, are you sure you’re all right?” he asked, as he turned his attention back to his old padawan again.

“As well as can be expected,” Anakin sighed, as he quickly surveyed the Avenger’s smoke-filled cockpit. “Looks like the ship’s still in one piece,” he sighed, somewhat relieved, as he reached over and tapped a switch on the aft console, activating the cockpit’s evacuation fans. “That should clear the smoke in a few minutes,” he coughed, as he walked over, somewhat stiffly, to join Obi-Wan.

“Where are we?” Anakin asked, narrowing his eyes as he looked out of the cockpit window. “And where’s Kamino?” he asked again, suddenly realizing that the massive, blue planet was no longer in their field of view.

“I don’t know,” Obi-Wan replied, shaking his head, as he gazed out at the brilliant gold star closest to them; he hadn’t noticed it either, until now, but Kamino was gone, and so was the milky white cloud of the Ple’tana asteroid belt that usually wove its way across the blackness of space behind it, like a huge, glistening white ribbon. “None of this looks familiar at all,” he said, as he began to sense, and share, Anakin’s confusion.

“And it doesn’t feel right, either,” Obi-Wan said, as he again noticed the strange tremors in the Force around them. “Do you feel that?” he asked, turning his gaze up toward Anakin’s again.

“Yes,” Anakin said, nodding his head slowly. “I don’t know what to make of it, though,” he said, looking back at his old master as he felt the strong, unusual vibrations in the living Force. “I’ve never felt anything like it.”

“Look,” Anakin said, gesturing toward the viewscreen in front of them as he suddenly spotted the strange, silver device they’d encountered floating, silent and lifeless, just off the Avenger’s port bow. “Whatever happened, that thing’s still with us.”

“Yes,” Obi-Wan replied, frowning thoughtfully as he watched it drift, like a lifeless derelict, along beside them through space. “But it’s not spinning anymore, and it’s drifting, just like we are,” he said, shaking his head slowly. “It looks dead.”

“Good,” Anakin groaned, leaning back against the bulkhead again. “Let’s try not to do anything else to piss it off,” he sighed. “Do we have any idea what it did to us?”

Anakin and Obi-Wan both looked down at the computer console in front of them, as Artoo began to whistle and click from his place at the remote command console. “Artoo says he thinks it opened some kind of a wormhole,” he said, frowning deeply as he saw the translation from the little droid scroll quickly across the screen.

“That would explain where Kamino’s gone, then,” Obi-Wan sighed, nodding his head slowly, as he looked out at the silent, mysterious device. “And it would also explain those strange spacial distortions. If that thing was some kind of transportation device...”

“You mean, like a stargate of some kind?” Anakin asked, a curious frown on his face, as he too looked out at the device that floated along beside them.

“Maybe,” Obi-Wan replied. “If it is, it may have kicked us farther beyond the Outer Rim than we first thought,” Obi-Wan said, as he turned his attention to the ship’s navigational computers. “Let me see if I can get a fix on our position, and see how far we’ve been thrown off course.”

Anakin glanced around the cockpit again; the smoke was clearing, but the wild, angry ride through whatever it was they’d encountered had left the Avenger a mess, indeed. He reached over and picked up several of the coolant canisters that had been thrown about in the mahem; they weighed a considerable amount, and he was just thankful that Leia hadn’t been more seriously hurt than she had been, as they’d all been tossed about like a ball of scrubgrass in a strong Tattooine sandstorm.

“Wait a minute, this can’t be right,” Obi-Wan said, shaking his head in disbelief as he looked at the starmap on the small display in front of him.

“What can’t, Master?” Anakin asked, as he walked over to join him, leaning against the Avenger’s main console; he closed his eyes and grimaced, somewhat painfully, as he reached up and rubbed the crown of his head again. It was still throbbing from its sudden encounter with the cockpit’s aft bulkhead, and he looked at his fingers, frowning as he saw the blood on them.

“You’ve cracked that hard head of yours again,” Obi-Wan said, his frown deepening as he caught sight of Anakin’s bloody fingers. “I’ll get the first aid kit, and we’ll take a look at...”

“No, it’s okay, Master, it can wait,” Anakin replied, shaking his head as he placed his hand on Obi-Wan’s shoulder, pushing him back down into the copilot’s seat. “What can’t be right?”

“These starcharts,” Obi-Wan said, reluctantly turning his attention from his friend’s wounded head back to the display in front of him again. “Look at them,” he said, as Anakin leaned closer, looking over his shoulder.

“You’re right,” Anakin said, as he stared in disbelief at the mismatched datapoints on the display in front of them. “Nothing’s lining up, not even the galactic terminator belt,” he said, as he reached over and tapped the controls quickly. “Are you sure you’ve got the nav computer calibrated right?” he asked, as he quickly accessed the ship’s main computer.

“See for yourself,” Obi-Wan sighed, folding his arms across his chest and watching Anakin as he worked. “I checked them twice, but I keep getting the same results,” he said, gesturing somewhat frustratedly at the console’s display. “Either the nav computer is broken,” he said, as he and Anakin exchanged a confused, befuddled glance, “or we’re not anywhere close to where we’re supposed to be.”

“The calibration looks right,” Anakin sighed, shaking his head. “Artoo,” he called, watching as his little blue droid swung his dome toward him and whistled attentively, “see if you can figure out what’s wrong with the nav computer.”

Anakin looked back over his shoulder, as he heard Padmé’s voice behind him. “What’s wrong with the nav computer?” she asked, reaching up and pushing her disheveled hair from her face as she and Luke walked back across the battered, smoke-filled cockpit to join them.

“It appears to be broken,” Obi-Wan sighed, gesturing toward the confusing, misaligned display; it looked like a child’s connect-the-dots puzzle, yet none of the lines and points matched up.

“How’s Leia?” Anakin asked, as Padmé leaned close to him, placing her arm around his waist.

“She’s fine,” she sighed, nodding her head. “She’s a little loopy, from the knock on the head she got, but it looked a lot worse than it actually was,” she said, watching as Anakin closed his eyes and sighed, obviously relieved. “It’s stopped bleeding, and Threepio’s patching her up right now.”

“Speaking of bleeding,” Obi-Wan said, as he pointed to Anakin’s blood-covered fingertips; he smiled, as Anakin shot him a ‘go to hell’ look, as Padmé snatched his hand from the back of the seat where Obi-Wan sat.

“Honey, you’re hurt,” Padmé said, as she watched Anakin turn toward her and shake his head. “Where?”

“It’s nothing, Padmé,” he said, as he gestured toward his head. “I’ve got a cut up on the top of my head, somewhere, but it’s not bad. It can wait...”

“No, it can’t,” Padmé chided, as she turned and looked at Luke. “Luke, bring me the first aid kit,” she said, watching as he nodded his head obediently. “It should be in the storage compartment, there, with the rest of your father’s things.”

“Honestly, Padmé, it can wait,” Anakin sighed, as she pushed him over and shoved him down, quite forcefully, into the pilot’s seat. “It’s nothing, see?” he said, as he reached up and rubbed the top of his head again.

“Nothing, hmm?” Padmé quipped, frowning down at him as she watched him grimace, quite painfully, and look at the fresh layer of blood on his fingertips. “I’ll be the judge of that,” she said, as she turned her attention to her son again.

“Here you go, Mom,” Luke said, handing her the kit he’d retrieved for her. “Hang in there, Dad,” he said, smiling slyly at his father as he patted his shoulder firmly. “She does this to me all the time,” he said with a grin. “It only hurts worse if you fight her.”

“Very funny,” Anakin sighed; he winced again, as Padmé began to gingerly clean the gash on the top of his head. “Easy, Padmé,” he groaned, glancing up at her sheepishly as she worked.

“Oh, stop whining,” Padmé grinned, turning his head back toward the cockpit window again. “And hold still, I can’t do this with you moving your head around.”

Luke and Obi-Wan turned their attention to the cockpit door, as they heard Threepio’s voice from behind them. “Miss Padmé,” he said, as he turned himself sideways and shuffled, as quickly as he could, through the narrow doorway, “Mistress Leia is resting comfortably in the infirmary, and young Mistress Lana is with her,” he said, as he shuffled up to join them. “Miss Shanda is watching over them.”

“Oh, my,” he said, as his electronic eyes caught sight of the bloody cleansing pad in Padmé’s hands. “Is Master Ani all right?”

“Will everybody stop making such a big deal out of my head?” Anakin sighed, frustrated; he was about to speak again, but he held his tongue, turning his attention, along with the others, toward Artoo, as he began to whistle excitedly.

“What’s he saying?” Obi-Wan said, as he and the others looked up at Threepio.

“Oh, dear,” Threepio said, turning his eyes over toward the little droid as he worked at the main access terminal adjacent to them. “Artoo, are you absolutely certain you haven’t made a mistake?”

“What’s he saying, Threepio?” Padmé asked; she stopped working on the cut on Anakin’s head for just a moment, watching him as he stood up and went to join Artoo at the access terminal.

“Artoo says that he’s been quite unable to find any problem with the ship’s navigational systems,” Threepio said, turning his attention back to Padmé again. “He says that, as best he can tell, the system is working within it’s normal parameters.”

“Then why aren’t the starcharts right?” Anakin asked, as he leaned down and studied the small display where Artoo worked; he looked at the little droid, a confused frown on his face, as Artoo whistled again, just as excitedly.

Obi-Wan stood up from his chair, walking over to stand by Padmé and Luke as they all watched and listened intently. “Artoo says that he’s checked the waypoint calculations three hundred and twenty seven times, and the chances of the navigational center being off are less than sixty three thousand, seven hundred and twenty to one.”

“But the navigational center is fixed on a trilinear axis that runs through the center of the galaxy,” Padmé said, shaking her head, as confused as everyone else as she studied the misaligned, haphazard points on the map in front of them. “The ship’s computer should be able to triangulate it’s fix from any point inside it.”

“Yes, Miss Padmé,” Threepio replied, as he shuffled around to face her; he paused, as he carefully considered what he was about to say. “But Artoo says that the reason the charts aren’t lining up is...”

“Oh, dear,” Threepio sighed, as he waved his arms, as confused as everyone else.

“The charts aren’t lining up because?” Anakin asked, shrugging his shoulders as they all looked at their tall, golden droid intently.

“The charts aren’t lining up,” Threepio continued, “because we’re not in our own galaxy anymore.”

------

“I’ve never felt so lost in all my life,” Anakin sighed, as he stared out of the Avenger’s cockpit window at the strange starfield in front of them; he’d never really realized, over the years, how familiar he’d grown with the patterns of the stars that filled the vastness of space around them, whenever they would travel from place to place. It was strangely disconcerting, he thought to himself, as he suddenly found those patterns to be strangely absent.

Anakin turned and looked over his shoulder toward Padmé, as he suddenly felt her hand on his shoulder. “Everything’s going to be all right, Ani,” she said, smiling down at him softly as she squeezed his shoulder, keenly aware of the worry that flowed through him as she sensed his tremor through the Force. “We’ll find a way out of this. Don’t worry.”

Anakin smiled, somewhat weakly, reaching up and squeezing her hand tightly as he heard Obi-Wan speak. “I’m detecting something on the short range scanners,” Obi-Wan said, his fingers quickly tapping the controls in front of him as he frowned down at the display between him and Anakin.

“Can you tell what it is?” Anakin asked, leaning closer to the console as Padmé came and stood between them.

“It looks like an artificial structure of some kind,” Obi-Wan replied, as he brought the peculiar shaped object up on the Avenger’s main computer console. “Artoo says he’s definitely detecting ships of some kind, though,” he continued, nodding his head slowly, as the little droid whistled quietly from his workstation behind them.

“Do any of them look familiar?” Anakin asked, as Padmé rested her arms on his shoulders, leaning down close and looking at the screen along with them.

“No,” Obi-Wan sighed, shaking his head slowly, as he watched Artoo’s translation scroll across the screen in front of him. “He says he can only detect the larger ones from this distance, and none of them look like anything in our databases,” he said, turning and looking back at his companions again.

“Could they be Imperial ships?” Padmé asked, the worry in her own heart clearly evident in her voice.

“They could be anything,” Anakin sighed, a disconcerted frown on his face. “And I don’t know about you two, but I’m not too thrilled about taking this ship, and my children, into a situation I’m totally unfamiliar with.”

“Me either,” Padmé said, as she crouched down beside him, squeezing his arm tightly as she looked up at him. “But I don’t really see where we have much of a choice, Ani,” she said, shaking her head slowly.

“We’re lost, with no idea where we are or how to get home,” she said, shifting her eyes toward Obi-Wan, as he and Anakin looked quietly at one another. “We need help,” she said, shrugging her shoulders as she cooly evaluated the facts in her nimble mind, and came to the only conclusion she could, no matter how badly it unnerved her. “Maybe they can help us.”

“She has a point,” Anakin said, as he watched Obi-Wan lean back in his chair and stroke his beard thoughtfully.

“The only thing that unnerves me,” Obi-Wan sighed, as he stared out at the lifeless device that had brought them to where they now found themselves, “is that we have no idea where we’re at. That could be an Imperial outpost, for all we know,” he said, turning his eyes back to Anakin and Padmé again. “We could, for all intensive purposes, be walking right into the lion’s den and not even know it.”

“But,” he sighed, shrugging his own shoulders as he dropped his hands into his lap, a resigned, confused expression on his face, “Padmé’s right. We really don’t have any other option, at least not that I can see. Without the nav computer, we’re pretty much lost.”

“Besides,” Padmé sighed, an amused smile on her face as she squeezed Anakin’s arm tightly. “Four Jedi against, what, a hundred storm troopers?” she asked, turning a sly smile back to her husband again. “Doesn’t sound like much of a match to me.”

“I’d really like to avoid any conflict with the kids around, if it’s at all possible,” Anakin replied, returning her smile. “Just the same, though, I would feel better if we had our weapons handy, just in case,” Anakin interjected, turning his attention back to Obi-Wan again. “You and Shanda brought yours with you, didn’t you?”

“Of course,” Obi-Wan replied with a nod. “We packed them away, though, before we left. We didn’t want to take any chances that the children might see them.”

“Let’s get them,” Anakin said, looking back at Padmé, as she nodded her head slowly in agreement. “We can conceal them in our belts and under our tunics, and keep them out of sight. I’d just feel a lot better if we were prepared for the worst, even if nothing happens. Agreed?”

“Agreed,” Padmé said, nodding her head firmly as she stood up. “I’ll get ours,” she said, turning her attention back to Obi-Wan again. “And I’ll have Shanda change and get yours as well.”

“All right, then,” Anakin sighed, turning around and flopping back into the pilot’s chair as Padmé walked quickly back toward the cargo bay. “Artoo,” he called, as he reached over and powered up the Avenger’s main engines, “Make for that outpost, or whatever it is, slow and easy,” he said, turning his eyes back to the viewscreen as he reached over and activated the ship’s shields and weapons systems.

“Let’s go see who’s home,” he sighed, as he and Obi-Wan exchanged a long, quiet glance, both of them keenly aware of the strange tremors in the Force around them, and the nervous knot deep in the pit of their stomachs.

------

He groaned, quite unhappily, as he suddenly heard the amazingly unwelcome bell that rang through his quarters; he laid their, hoping that it had only been his imagination, until the shrill tone sounded again, convincing him otherwise.

“What is it?” he asked, his sleepy voice clearly conveying his extreme displeasure, as he rolled onto his back and flopped his arm across his face.

“Sorry to disturb you sir,” he heard that familiar voice call, as the computer opened up the com channel in response to his agitated, sleepy voice.

“Not sorry enough, since you did it anyway,” he groaned, reaching up and pulling his pillow over his eyes. “What is it that can’t wait another two hours till morning?”

“We’re receiving an urgent incoming transmission for you, sir,” the voice replied, as smoothly and calmly as ever. “Priority one. Shall I patch it though to your quarters?”

“Yes, yes, fine,” he growled, as he reached up and switched on the small light over his bed; he laid there, for a long moment, the pillow still resting over his eyes, as they began to adjust themselves to the pale light that filled his quarters.

“Who the hell needs to send a priority one message at three in the morning?” he groaned, finally tossing the pillow from his face; he sat up slowly, scratching his head as he swung his legs over the side of his bed, and then walked slowly over to the small desk in the corner of his quarters.

He sat down, yawning deeply as he pressed the control switch on his desk, rubbing his head sleepily as he leaned back in his chair and watched the small display slowly swivel up and lock into position. He waited, for what seemed like an eternity, until the familiar two-tone bell sounded, and the screen flashed to life.

“Well, Jean Luc,” Admiral Dougherty said, raising his eyebrow as he eyed his old friend curiously, “Dressing rather informally for conferences these days, I see.”

“Very funny,” Picard replied, folding his arms across his pajama top as he shot a rather unamused smirk back at the Admiral’s image. “Only when someone requests one at three in the morning,” he shot back, watching the Admiral as he smiled and nodded his head in reply.

“Sorry about that,” he said, apologetically, as he folded his hands in front of him. “I would have waited until morning, but this is important,” he said, his tone instantly growing more serious.

“What’s going on, Jerry?” Jean Luc asked, pushing aside his own frustration as he sensed the urgency in his friend’s tone.

“We’ve got a little incident that occurred at the DS9 outpost, a little less than an hour ago,” Admiral Dougherty said, leaning back in his chair and tapping his fingers thoughtfully on his desk as he spoke. “Some sort of spacial anomaly, adjacent to the wormhole’s event horizon. I want you to take the Enterprise and go check it out.”

“Admiral, please,” Picard groaned, his discontent clearly evident in his voice as he frowned back at the screen. “The Enterprise has been on extended duty, since the conflict with the Borg escalated, and my crew hasn’t had shore leave in six months,” he said, shaking his head as he spoke. “Surely Science Officer Dax and Engineer O’brien can handle something like a random spacial...”

“Jadzia was the one who contacted Starfleet Command, at Captain Cisco’s urging, and requested that you specifically be dispatched to assist them with this,” the admiral interjected, cutting Picard off short. “And, given the strange nature of what’s happened, Starfleet Command agrees with them.”

“Jerry,” Picard snapped, shaking his head doubtfully, “What could possibly have happened out there that would merit me turning this ship around and depriving my crew of shore leave for the third time in six months?” Picard asked, tapping his fingers on his elbow aggitatedly as he glared back at the screen.

“Get yourself a cup of earl grey, Jean Luc,” Admiral Dougherty said, his gravely serious eliciting a look of bewilderment from the Enterprise’s captain. “We have a lot to talk about.”

------

Captain’s Log, Stardate seven three three five, point six.

The Enterprise is currently en route to Starbase Deep Space 9, at the urgent request of Starfleet Command. We have been called in to investigate the recent arrival of a small group of refugees who appear to have been swept into our galaxy via some sort of temporal probe, a device that Starfleet suspects may be of possible Borg design.

While the Captain Cisco seems convinced enough that these individuals are merely unfortunate victims of an encounter with the probe, as their story suggests, Starfleet Command has requested that the Enterprise assist with the investigation, given the unusual nature of their story, and their untimely arrival in regard to the recent increase in hostilities with the Borg.

I have assigned the brunt of the investigation to Lieutenant Commander Data, who is currently on his way to my briefing room, with the rest of my officers, to discuss this matter which Star Fleet has dubbed classified at the highest level.

It had been a long morning, even by his standards.

Captain Picard took another long sip of the rich, strong earl grey tea in his cup; he placed it back on the briefing table beside him, tapping the control pad beside him and shutting off his log recorder, just as he heard the door to the large briefing room open. He looked up, smiling as best he could at this hour of the morning from his place at the head of the table, as he watched his command crew enter and quickly take their customary places around the large, rectangular table.

He turned his eyes toward his first officer, watching him as he pulled out the chair beside him, offering it to Deanna. “Ensign Braydo says that we should be arriving at DS-9 within the hour, Captain,” Will said, helping the ship’s counselor slide her chair closer to the table, and then taking the seat next to her. “My curiosity’s peaked, sir,” Riker said, smiling curiously as he folded his hands on the table in front of him. “You don’t call a classified briefing so early in the morning for no reason, after all.”

“Indeed, number one,” Picard replied, nodding his head slowly as he glanced around the table at the rest of his crew, and the equally curious looks on all of their faces. “Especially when it involved the cancellation of shore leave,” he said, an apologetic smile on his gaunt, chiseled face.

“I’m sorry to have to call you all here so early in the morning,” the captain continued, “but it seems, however, that we have a rather urgent matter to investigate, one that seems to have alarmed Starfleet Command at the highest level,” he said, turning his eyes back to his first officer again. “Admiral Dougherty himself requested that we be dispatched to investigate, when he contacted me early this morning.”

“Investigate what, Captain?” Geordi asked, leaning forward and folding his hands in front of him, the briefing room’s light glinting brightly off his shiny, silver visor. “What’s going on?”

“Commander Data has been fully briefed on the incident that occurred at the station approximately three hours ago,” Picard said, gesturing toward the pale-skinned android as he sat quietly and attentively at his place near the bulkhead windows. “I’ll leave it to him to fill you all in on the details.”

They all watched quietly, as Lieutenant Commander Data stood up and walked quickly to the large computer display on the wall behind the captain’s chair. He wasted no time, as usual, as he switched on the display and went straight to work.

“Three hours, eighteen minutes ago,” he said, turning his yellow-hued eyes back toward his companions as a large tactical plot appeared on the screen beside him, “science officer Jadzia Dax detected a tightly focused spacial and temporal anomaly that appeared approximately four hundred fifty three thousand kilometers away from the event horizon of the sector’s stable wormhole.”

“While much smaller and tightly focused than the wormhole itself, the energy levels displayed by the phenomenon, even for it’s relatively short duration, were significantly larger than the emissions normally encountered when the primary wormhole opens,” Data continued, tapping the small control in his hand and watching as the tactical display changed in concert with it.

“I’ll say,” Geordi said, a tone of utter disbelief in his voice as he studied the ridiculous looking plot on the display beside his android friend. “Those power output levels are almost a thousand times higher than the ones produces by the station’s wormhole, at least the numbers I saw the last time we were there.”

“One thousand, three hundred sixty three point seven times, Geordi,” Data corrected, rather quickly. “To be precise.”

“But how’s that possible, Data?” Geordi asked, his nimble mind quickly assessing the almost unbelievable figures on the display in front of them. “The laws of physics don’t change, not even in a wormhole,” he said, turning his attention to his captain as he continued. “The amount of power produced directly correlates to the spacial distortion the wormhole produces.”

“If these numbers are right,” Geordi said, shaking his head in disbelief, “then this little guy would have been powerful enough to whip you from one side of the galaxy to the other,” he said, looking back at his companions again, “assuming you were able to withstand the trip.”

“Which, of course, you couldn’t,” Deanna interjected, nodding her head slowly in agreement. “The gravitational forces produced in such a powerful phenomenon would destroy anything that fell into it,” she said, turning and looking back at Captain Picard again.

“Which is precisely why the Enterprise has been called in to investigate,” Picard replied, nodding his head firmly. “Continue, Mister Data,” he said, giving a nod to the android who stood a short distance from him.

“Immediately after the distortion dissipated,” Data said, pressing the switch in his hand again and bringing up another group of images on the display, “the station’s scanners detected two small objects drifting near the exact center of the phenomenon’s location.”

“That one looks like a ship,” Riker said, frowning deeply as he studied the tactical display intently.

“It is a ship, Commander,” Data replied, nodding his head as he watched Will and Geordi exchange a befuddled glance. “And a small probe of some type. Science Officer Dax’s first examinations of the device seem to indicate that it bears remarkable similarities to several temporal displacement devices that were discovered onboard a descimated Borg vessel two years ago,” he said. “She believe that, at least in theory, this device may be of Borg design itself.”

“What about the ship?” Beverly Crusher asked, her own curiosity peaking as this strange situation continued unfold. “Was it a Borg design, too?”

“No, Doctor,” Data replied, shaking his head firmly. “The ship appears to bear no resemblance to any design in Federation databases, either Borg or any other design, for that matter.”

“Well, where did it come from?” Beverly asked, raising her hands as she shrugged her shoulders in reply. “It had to come from somewhere.”

“That’s what we’re being sent to find out, Doctor,” Picard interjected, before Data could reply. “But it seems that Mister LaForge’s estimates of how far one could travel through a spacial anomaly of this type may have been more correct than he realized,” he said, watching his crew as they all exchanged another confused glance.

“Are you saying that ship traveled through that anomaly?” Riker asked, turning his eyes up to Data’s again.

“If the ship’s occupants are to be believed,” Data replied, nodding his head slowly, “then, yes, sir.”

“Occupants?” Deanna asked, a look of intense surprise and confusion on her face. “Are you saying there were people on board that vessel when it came through that thing?”

“Yes, Counselor,” Data replied again, quite politely, as his companions listened in complete, stunned silence. “Four adults and three children, all humanoid, of varying ages.”

“But that’s impossible,” Riker said, shaking his head slowly as he looked back toward his captain. “No ship could survive a trip through something like that, much less the people inside it.”

“No ship that we know of, sir,” Data corrected. “Officer Dax indicated in her initial report that the ship appeared to be constructed of a material unknown to us,” he said, watching as the Enterprise’s officers all looked around at each other quietly. “It is possible, at least in theory, that it may have been able to withstand the forces inside the phenomenon and emerge intact.”

“Assuming all of this is correct, Jean Luc,” Doctor Crusher interjected, her eyes meeting his as they looked at each other, “Where did these people come from?”

“That’s what we’ve got to find out, Doctor,” Picard replied, shaking his head. “Starfleet feels that, with the increase of Borg activity in this sector, that we can’t just take their story at face value. We need to find evidence, and a way to determine exactly where they came from and what they’re doing here.”

“Have they found out anything from them, the ones on the ship, about where they’re from?” Deanna asked, quietly.

“Yes,” Picard replied, nodding his head firmly. “It’s rather difficult to explain, however,” he sighed, rubbing his hand slowly over his bald head as he turned his attention back to Data again. “Perhaps it might be best if Data just shows you.”

Deanna turned her eyes toward the display, along with everyone else, as Data pressed the small control in his hand, bringing up a large, wide-field image. They all sat there quietly, in stunned silence, as Data gestured toward the board with his finger.

“This image is a composite of several taken by our most powerful long-range telescopes,” Data said, pointing toward the large, white galaxy that appeared near the lower right corner of the image. “This is our galaxy, here.”

“If the passengers aboard the small vessel are to be believed,” Data continued, quite nonchalantly, “then the reference data that science officer Dax has been able to assemble thus far from their own starcharts would put their point of origin roughly here,” he said, gesturing to a small, spiral galaxy on the upper left edge of the screen. “Somewhere in galaxy NCG-221, a satellite of the Andromeda Galaxy.”

“That’s impossible,” Geordi said, staring at the screen in disbelief. “That’s over two million light years from here.”

“Two million, three hundred sixty three thousand, five hundred, according to our best guesstimates,” Data corrected again, eliciting an exasperated sigh from the Enterprise’s chief engineer.

“But you’re talking about extragalactic travel, here, Data,” Georgi said, turning his visor toward the Enterprise’s android science officer. “Even in theory, it’s problematic. We’ve never even been able to prove that wormholes can exist outside of galactic space. The gravitational forces that create them just aren’t there.”

“I’m beginning to understand Star Fleet’s interest in this,” Riker said, a deeply serious look spreading over his bearded face as he nodded his head, very slowly, and looked back at his captain.

“Indeed, number one,” Picard replied, turning his attention slowly among his officers as he spoke. “If these people are really who they say they are, and where they say they’re from, then this could have serious repercussions for the Federation,” he said, as they all listened intently.

“If this vessel was able to withstand such a journey, and the Borg somehow got their hands on it, and its technology,” he said, his tone growing deeply serious as he spoke.

“Then the Borg would no longer be constrained to our quadrant,” Lieutenant Worf said, his deeply ridged forehead bearing a heavy frown as his deep voice spoke for the first time since this briefing had begun. “They would be able to move throughout the galaxy with relative ease.”

“Or from our galaxy to another,” Picard replied, nodding his head slowly in agreement. “They could assimilate thousands of worlds, in our galaxy alone, in a fraction of the time it’s taken them to reek havoc in the delta quadrant, and there would be nothing to stop them from moving beyond the boundaries of our own galaxy when they were finished.”

“It’s imperative that we determine where these people are from, and what they’re doing here,” Captain Picard said, quite firmly, seeing now that his officers were fully aware of the seriousness of the situation. “Commander Data and Lieutenant LaForge will be in charge in assessing the ship and its technology, along with assisting Jadzia Dax with any analysis of the probe that brought them here.”

“Apparently, some of the ones on the ship were wounded during the journey,” Picard continued. “Doctor Crusher, I want you to work with Doctor Bashir on the station,” he said, watching as his chief medical officer nodded her head slowly. “Let’s extend every olive branch we can. These people aren’t our enemies, at least not until we’ve determined they are. I want you to help them in any way you can, and see if you and the good doctor can determine anything about them at all from a medical perspective.”

“Lieutenant Worf will assist Security Chief Odo,” the captain said, turning his attention to his large Klingon security chief. “If the Borg are somehow aware of or involved in their arrival, I want to know everything that’s going on inside that station and outside of it.”

“Understood, sir,” Worf replied, with a firm nod of his dark-haired head.

“Councelor,” the captain continued, his tone softening a bit as he leaned close to her, “You and Commander Riker will be our first point of contact when we arrive. See what you can learn about them. I want to know, as best we can, who we’re dealing with here. Captain Cisco says that they seem cordial and peaceful enough, but I want to know as much about them as you can find out.”

“Yes, Captain,” Deanna replied, as she folded her hands on the table in front of her, glancing over at Will as he nodded his head slowly in agreement.

“Any questions?” Captain Picard asked, glancing quickly around the table around him; he sat there quietly, for a long moment, his eyes shifting slowly from one of his officers to another.

“Let’s get on with it, then,” he sighed, finally, nodding his head. “Dismissed.”

He leaned back in his chair, watching quietly as his officers stood up and walked quickly out of the briefing room. He turned slowly in his chair, as the gentle hiss of the doors filled the room, and then sat there, folding his hands thoughtfully in front of him, as he gazed out at the stars that slipped slowly past the Enterprise as she made her way toward the space station, and whatever destiny, and surprises, awaited them.

------

Our story continues very shortly, as Anakin, Padmé, and the others find themselves suddenly thrust into a strange... but vaguely familiar world. What will they find, and what adventure awaits, as two galaxies collide through space and time? We’ll find out, Force willing, as our story continues in Chapter 2:)