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...
//"Main Title, 4th Season" Christopher Franke, _Babylon 5_//
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
labyrinth 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's
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."
"Okay," 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 preparations.
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 capital 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 spongin and wyrm-minions, but don't shoot 'em
unless you have to; we don't want to make any more enemies than are
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 amok 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.
"All right, the mission commander is Nexxus, with Commander Aris
as XO. For the R&D people hitching along, Brynhild 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 business. 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.
DIMENSIONAL 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 Councillor. 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 worshiping Technology.
"All right, 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?"
"Stand by, 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
cyclopean 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 Katrina Templeton & James Renken