The ship appeared in orbit of Coruscant without warning. It was instantly detected and targeted by orbital defenses and patrol vessels alike, it was swiftly dealt with. There was no panic on Coruscant. Not by the general population, the military, or even the Jedi. There was however one man who was concerned. Supreme Chancellor Sheev Palpatine had crafted everything in the war, every piece moving perfectly according to his grand design. Minor bumps in the road were swiftly overcome, and strategies were adopted. This however was an unknown variable.

The media was spinning it as a new form of Separatist vessel, probing Coruscant's defenses and reaction times as a precursor to invasion. Palpatine knew better or believed he did. This vessel wasn't separatist. Not unless Dooku was planning to overthrow and replace him. Such a thing was unlikely but not impossible. Since the start of the war he had pushed his Apprentice further and further to the Dark Side, and power afterall did corrupt. Though as the wreckage from the ship came crashing down to the surface off the planet, the worry soon disappeared out of his mind as days turned into weeks. It continued to nag at the back of his brain, but more pressing matters gained his attention.

---

As the ship fell the individual Replicator blocks formed around a single being. She didn't panic as she came hurtling through the atmosphere. After all, she was protected by her brethren. Protocols were enacted as the combined mass crashed through several layers of the cityscape that littered the planet. A rudimentary scan of the networks this universe presented indicated this was the galactic capital. While that meant that there was potentially the greatest resistance it also provided the greatest opportunity. There was an abundance of resources for her brethren to consume and replicate from. It also provided means to transport anywhere else in the galaxy via spacecraft.

Climbing out of the debris on a deserted street her brethren reformed before her as bugs. She used the neural network to send them forth to replicate. Instructing them to delve deeper and deeper. Remain undetected until the time came to come forth and consume. For there would be no chance unless they were ready.

Sixth also meanwhile had much information to gather, and prepare. Afterall there was always the possibility that in their way to this universe the breach was detected. If there was anything they had learned from their encounters with the Asgard and the Humans of Earth is that their foes were as relentless as they were and that with all possible haste they should prepare for their foes to find them.

---

Daniel sighed as he looked on at the motley assembly of ships he had gathered from across the multiverse. He still wasn't entirely sure what chances they had, but there were limitations to his power. How much he could interfere without incurring the wrath, not just of the others but the other various beings across the multiverse.

"Oh come on, don't look so glum."

Daniel sighed as he turned to the side. "Q. I wasn't expecting to see you here."

"Au contraire my fellow omnipotent friend. With all the noise you were making, you knew I'd never be able to resist. You're wanting something from me."

Daniel just smiled.

---

Sixth ascended the steps to the great Jedi Temple. Home to the religious sect that held great power and significance within this 'Galactic Republic'. They fascinated Sixth, a race of organic beings with powers, unlike anything they had known. Sixth had no interest in the Senate buildings, they had known various government types and histories from the information their brethren had gathered within the Ida Galaxy in their home universe. This was something entirely new. As they climbed the steps they made their way past war protestors. Apparently, it was a time of great conflict, with both sides using disposable armies. The Clones were of no use to Sixth, but the droid armies used by the group known as Separatists would likely be useful later.

Ascending to the top of the steps Sixth barged her way past armored clones. There was screaming as people ran, and an individual in robes turned to face Sixth. Pulling a cylinder from his waist a beam of energy erupted from it. A lightsaber. This was a Jedi. A nearby clone charged Sixth, and with a precision strike his neck was broken. Two more charged and were as swiftly dispatched. The Jedi raised a hand in the direction of Sixth and seemed perplexed when nothing happened. Perhaps he had expected Sixth to stop?

Continuing onward Sixth was certainly surprised when the solid beam of plasma cut straight through their neck. The rest of the body disassembled onto the floor leaving nothing but a head.

The next couple of days Sixth watched and listened as people poured over the head form. As scans and tests were performed, questions were asked. Sixth never spoke a word, nanites slowly working their way into the Jedi Temple and through its systems. It took time to process the vast amount of information that the archives held, yet as the number of Replicator Brethren increased it was easy to spread the burden and process it across their number. While Sixths head remained, their replicator brethren were busy infiltrating power distribution, life support, and production systems. Some of them had worked their way to the lowest levels where there was very little organic life. Consuming raw materials and replicating, replacing the consumed materials with replicator blocks to prevent any sort of security system from detecting the changes in structural integrity.

On the thirty-first cycle (local time) of Sixths incursion on Coruscant, their number was in the millions. Every day a Jedi would come before Sixth and try and probe their mind with this 'Force' that they revered so much. After some research Sixths best estimation was that due to her makeup of nanite cells that their body was immune to this mental probe. The Jedi had all claimed that Sixth was some form of 'droid' but Sixth knew that they, no. She now. Was so much more. A Jedi by the name of Cin Drallig stood before her. He had questioned her many times since she arrived at the temple.

"You're never going to tell us why you came here? What are the Separatists planning?"

Her mouth moved.

Cins expression changed to one of confusion. "Are you going to tell us?"

"R-R-R" Her voice came out heavy, as if she was trying it out for the first time.

"What is your purpose here?"

He leaned in closer.

"To Replicate." As she spoke Replicators burst out of air vents all over the temple, as doors closed and life support systems shut down. All over the planet powergrids were disrupted, automated systems failed. Carnage and chaos spread as Replicator bugs spat forth from the depths of the planets, ships came out of the lower levels. Crashing down littered with Sixths replicator brethren as they made their way systematically dismantling defense systems. Nothing could stop them as they continued to pour from the depths. Blasters simply seemed to slow them down, the only effective weapons seemed to be lightsabers but even then sheer numbers slowly drove the Jedi from their own temple. A state of emergency declared, and as soon as Supreme Chancellor Palpatine had made it safely off planet, quarantine was declared.

Thirty-one days since Sixths arrival, and twenty four hours and the Replicators had done what had never been done in Galactic History.

They had seized Coruscant.

---

---

Location: Arcadia, Gallifrey's Second City.

Gretho found himself staring into the burning horizon more often as of late, that or the sky above. And who could blame him? If one expanded their senses just the tiniest bit further then they'd be able to smell the acrid scent of laser fire as it ignited the surrounding molecules, hear the keening whine and worbbling thud as said energy was scattered harmlessly by the transduction barrier, and even see the bolts themselves as they blazed forth from the orbiting Dalek command ships. Millions of them, perhaps more, all lined up in a perfect planetary blockade. All drowning his beloved home in an endless barrage of laser fire, the least of which would have-and on many an occasion had-destroyed any lesser world. But Gallifrey was no measely rock despite what their enemies might claim.

It had stood as the seat of their power, nay, the very centerpoint of history itself for over ten million years. It had been through hells far worse than this and survived, just as he and his people had, and Gretho had no doubt it would survive their newest foe as well. He was sure of it. And yet, whenever he caught a glimpse of the burnt orange sky and the ever-shifting outlines of the Sky Trenches that encircled it, he couldn't help but feel just the least bit nervous. Judging from the absolute silence aboard his ship, both mentally and verbally, the exact same could be said of his crew. Even INTRA, the Endeavor's otherwise calm, collected, and chatty artificial intelligence had joined in the anxious silence - only chiming in every now and then to give updates about changes to their route as they were passed down from High Command.

Updates that were, as one might expect, greeted with a series of terse nods and little else.

"Do you think the Daleks will manage to make it through?" Maz, his first mate, said at last.

Gretho sighed-thankful that some of the tension filled silence had finally been lifted-and shook his head.

"To be completely honest with you Maz, I don't know. The barriers held when they threw the Thousand Worlds at us, and they have held every time some upstart has tried to assault us in the past, but..."

He glanced back at the sky unfurling beyond the cockpit window. It hadn't changed.

"We've only just started to recover from the War-"

Maz's eye twitched and Gretho couldn't blame him. He suspected the other members of his crew all had similar reactions, himself included if the adrenaline flooding his veins was any indication. It was a rather... sensitive subject for everyone on-board aside from INTRA, albeit not through any fault of her own. Bowships had only been time-scooped recently for the sake of this new conflict after all, so AI like her were mercifully spared from having to deal with the psychological ramifications of the War's worst horrors, unlike the rest of them.

Nevertheless, he continued.

"As a result, we are weak, frighteningly so. Were we not, the Daleks would never have advanced as far as they did."

"Still," Maz began, crossing his arms as he turned to stare out the window. "The barriers continue to hold."

"They do. But the fact that our enemy has managed to get this far is, in and of itself, completely unacceptable."

Maz bit his lower lip but said nothing. Gretho pinched the bridge of his nose, squeezed his eyes shut, and exhaled sharply. Sometimes he forgot that he was the oldest one here, INTRA notwithstanding, even if he currently wore the youngest face out of the six of them, and that made it easy for him to be a bit of a cynic at times.

"But yes," said Gretho, returning his attention to the empty stretch of sky before them. "The barriers hold."

Silence reigned for a time, until it was abruptly broken by the ear-splitting scream of a shipboard siren. Several things happened at once after that. INTRA patched through a communication from Arcadia itself, a recall of all units to the city as the barriers and Sky Trenches had failed and Daleks had breached their defenses. This was followed shortly by a hurried telepathic conversation amongst the Endeavor's crew.

'They made it past the Sky Trenches? How?!'

'Does it matter? We need to get back to Arcadia now!'

'Get back? Are you insane? If the Daleks could breach both the transduction barrier and Sky Trenches, what makes you think we can stop them? We need to lea-'

'That's enough,' Maz thought, silencing the rapidly worsening din. 'We will do as our captain commands and nothing less. See to it that you don't stray so close to desertion again Zevo.'

Turning, he addressed his commanding officer.

"Your orders sir?"

Gretho's eyes narrowed as he took hold of the controls.

"Prepare for combat. Arcadia will not fall."

Swinging the Endeavor around he made a beeline for the city, doing his best to temper his nerves as untold billions of Daleks and accompanying attack ships descended from on high, plowing through the ceaseless hail of staser-fire in order to assault the silver settlement below. In the distance he could see other squadrons of Bowships moving to engage the Daleks just as the twin suns Gnol and Pogar dipped beneath the horizon, their stasers lancing through the encroaching darkness in the form of cherry-colored beams. Pushing the ship's drive to its maximum, Gretho and his crew began their deadly dance with the enemy.

Far enough to be clear of the frenzied ships in its orbit, the Vengeful Spirit hung in a distant orbit from Coruscant like a grim spectre, waiting. The unyielding titan surveyed the goings-on below it, the frantic traffic of supply freighters, transports, and battle fleets. From his command throne on the Vengeful Spirit's bridge, Horus Lupercal watched the motion with agitation. Dozens of auspex readouts and holographic projections danced in front of him in glowing green and blue lumens, and he watched all of them attentively, not missing a single detail. Every detail worried him. This was a planet in chaos, and there was no one left holding its reigns. Horus made up his mind in such little time that it could not have even been called "immediate," it was instinctive. If no one was willing to step up and grab hold of this situation, he would.

Horus stood from his throne, and dozens of eyes from around the cathedral-like bridge snapped to look at him, awaiting his commands. Green-and-black armored Legionnaires at his sides snapped to full attention, but likewise would not move without his word. Horus himself was unarmored for the present moment, instead dressed like a warrior-king of ancient Terra, arrayed in furs and leathers, a mail shirt and a heavy, crimson cloak. The hundred-pound pelt of a coal-black Fenrisian thunderwolf was thrown over his shoulder as a trophy, its yellow glass eyes staring out furiously. It had replaced the snow-white Cthonian direwolf pelt that had previously sat there when his Legion had changed its name and its heraldry. Even out of the Serpent's Scales, Horus was a giant, and towered above even his power-armored Astartes guards.

"Open every wide-range vox channel we have." He commanded a nearby attendant. "Here is our message: 'This is Vengeful Spirit requesting a secure communications link with headquarters command.'" He sighed, a noise like the rumble of an earthquake. "We need to get our arms around this, quickly. This world may already be doomed."

---

The gold colored starship known as the Ark slid through the narrow space in between the asteroid belt that populated this solar system. Yet again it seemed like this system was a bust. The Ark had already passed by a few gas giant planets. Ahead of them closer to this system’s red star, were a few smaller planets. However, Science Officer Hound had already confirmed that these planets were too close to the star. The heat of it would melt the Autobot’s metallic bodies.

“Bumblebee, lead us out of the system,” ordered the ship’s commander, Optimus Prime.

“Can do Optimus,” replied the yellow colored Helmsman known as Bumblebee.

Moving the controls with a controlled grip, the smaller Cybertronian led the Ark just over a frozen moon, one Hound said had frozen acid oceans. Turning the Ark around, Bumblebee did begin to leave the unnamed star system.

“Trailbreaker, can you pull up the star chart,” ordered Optimus Prime, “I want to go over the nearby systems.”

“Right,” replied Trailbreaker as he brought the relevant file onto the main viewing screen of the Ark’s command deck.

Optimus’ optics poured over the various hobbled together maps. He wasn’t sure what he would find this time compared to the countless cycles he had spent staring at it, trying to find a secret planet a new home. The problem was that most of this part of space was not investigated thoroughly.

The few maps that were stored aboard the Ark were incomplete, some taken from the files of an empire that no longer existed. It would have been much easier if the Autobots would be accepted on any planet near Cybertron. But no species wanted to get involved in the Cybertronians’ civil war.

Now they had spent kilo-cycles traveling away from civilization. It had been two kilo-cycles since they had come into contact with any other surviving Autobots. Optimus hoped to Primus that at least some of their kind now had a home.

Optimus Prime once again found nothing on the star charts. The leader of the Autobots let out a metallic sigh.

“Teletraan I, please patch me in to Engineering,” order Optimus.

A vaguely feminine voice replied, “Patching you through now.”

The maps disappeared off the view screen, replaced with the face of Chief Engineer Wheeljack.

“Prime, what can I do for you?” asked Wheeljack.

“I need an assessment on our Energon reserves?” replied Prime.

“Well, we’re alright for now. But having a little stockpiled isn’t so bad.”

“Alright, then could Hound and you prepare a survey team to assess this system. There could be potential for creating Energon here.”

“Right, I’ll get on that Optimus.”

The Autobot commander leaned back into his command chair. It felt a little bit better on his back. Like many Cybertronians, Optimus had wondered why their creator gave them sensations and emotions. Surely it would of been easier to make simple machines. But the devout would say it was all part of Primus’ plan.

Optimus Prime continued to think about his creator as he stared out at the darkness now engulfing the view screen. His optics could see faint pinpricks of light, stars, off in the distance. But the primary light in the dark was the red glow of the dying star at the centre of this solar system.

They had been traveling for so long, and yet there was so much more for the crew of the Ark to see. It was a prevailing theory back on Cybertron that the universe would expand forever, an endless frontier to explore. That thought made Optimus hopeful as it meant there were infinite opportunities to find a new home for the Autobots.

Optimus Prime’s musings were cut short by him being addressed by Bluestreak, the Communications Officer.

“Prime, we’ve got an SOS. Some guys called the Pletonites. Say they’re being attacked by Cybertronians,” Bluestreak rapidly explained.

“Cybertronians?” questioned Optimus.

But he knew the answer already. Whenever anyone mentioned Cybertronians anymore, it was always Megatron and his horde of Decepticons. And there weren’t enough Autobots left to change this perspective that the other alien species had of the sons of Cybertron.

“Confirming that a dreadnought has entered Pletonite space. They have no planetary defense systems. All ships in orbit are being destroyed by dreadnought,” stated Bluestreak.

Optimus Prime knew that the Decepticons had been scouring the galaxy, looking for the Autobots, and destroying anything in their way.

“Trailbreaker, please bring up all relevant data the Pletonites,” ordered Optimus.

A second later, countless files littered the view screen.

“Confirming that we have Pletonite coordinates saved. We could take a space bridge there,” stated Trailbreaker.

Optimus paused briefly, weighing what he would do next. Even using the space bridge once would significantly drain the ever lowing reserves of Energon aboard the Ark, much less using it twice. There was also mention of a dreadnought, a fierce Decepticon ship that outclasses the Ark in many ways. Plus there were many non-combatants aboard, Cybertronians who just wanted to escape Megatron without fully joining the Autobots.

“Optimus, we need a decision,” said Chief Tactical Officer Prowl.

Optimus paused once more, only for Bluestreak to confirm, “Getting confirmation that the Decepticons have begun bombarding the surface of the planet. Major cities are going dark. All communications have ended.”

Optimus slumped backward into his chair. Had his second of indecision cost the lives of a whole planet? Perhaps if they went they would also be dead, but at least they would have done the right thing.

“Optimus,” someone said, the voice not registering, “Optimus. We couldn’t have stopped it.”

The Autobot leader finally realized that Bumblebee was talking. Optimus could sense that all optics on the command deck were locked on him. Expecting him to say something.

“Hound, please continue to form a resource survey team with Wheeljack,” ordered Optimus.

Optimus knew that he had a duty to his crew, but as an Autobot he had sworn a duty to all the peoples of the universe. Optimus thought back to his speech from when he was sworn in as the new Prime: Freedom is the right of all sentient beings.

It was his duty to fight monsters like Megatron, to defend those in need. It was the Autobot way, and sometimes he forgot that. But the Ark was a ship of the Autobot Alliance, an alliance that swore to combat evil.

GM Post:



The battle raged above the sieged city of Arcadia as the Ceaseless Endeavour moved into position for the attack. Then just as weapon systems became hot. Time froze for everyone except those aboard the Arcadia. As a man in a white woolen sweater appeared on the bridge. Daniel opened his mind to create a telepathic link with the members of the bridge crew. "I will be brief. My name is Daniel Jackson and I come seeking your help. A foe from my Universe has breached another, I fear if they aren't stopped they could threaten all realities. I cannot interfere directly without the others of my kind stepping in to stop me, but I can't let countless billions and trillions face death. I can't hold time that much longer here, I will gift you the knowledge of my foe and what little I know off the universe they have invaded. Should you choose to accept just think so, and I'll transport you. I'll hold time the best I can until then. Thankyou."

Just as quickly as he appeared, he disappeared. Leaving them knowledge in what the Replicators were, and the basic knowledge of Coruscant, the Republic and the Separatist Alliance. Time remained frozen, the ship stuck in a small stasis field off its own.

---

In another universe, in another time. Daniel appeared alongside the Autobots and the arc. Dwarfed by their stature and size. He waved a hand very casually in order to gain their attention, before addressing the leader. "Greetings Optimus Prime. My name is Daniel Jackson, and I come seeking your help."

---

As the communication came through from the ship identified as the Vengeful Spirit there was a flurry of activity throughout the fleet. All their attention had been focused downwards, they hadn't even noticed new arrival to the system. The sheer size of it sent shivers of shock through the fleet as officers reported to their superiors. Even Palpatines attention was drawn to it but for a moment, before his sneer was cast back towards the planet below.

Admiral Shoan Killians Venator drew closer, flanked by two sister ships.

"Open a return channel."

"It's ready sir."

"This is Admiral Kilian of the Republic Vessel Exodus, state your name and purpose in this system."

The Prometheus dropped out of hyperspace in orbit above Coruscant. Brigadier General Jack O'Neill sat at the helm looking out the viewport ahead off him. "Shields up!-" The Klaxon sounded around the ship "-Cut the siren Marks. We all know the situation."

"Yes Sir." The klaxon stopped, you could hear a pin being dropped throughout the ship as everyone was on edge.

"Carter."

Lieutenant Colonel Samantha Carter sat to his right in the second seat. A position not usually reserved for her, but given her expertise he felt it was the best place for her. With no more of a command than simply saying her name she looked up from the data she was pouring over.

"It's incredible. I know Daniel told us that this is a space-faring society but the ships here number in the thousands I've never seen anything-"

"Carter-" He interupted, before gesturing out the window to the faint ball that represented Coruscant. "-the planet?"

She cleared her throat. "Sorry sir." Adjusting herself she went back to her terminal. "It seems to be completely covered in metal structures, I can't get an accurate read from this distance. I am getting Replicator Signals." Carter cut herself off, O'Neill motioned with his hand indicating she should continue.

"-They're in the Billions sir. It's hard to say, but I've never seen these numbers. I mean it makes sense with the amount of raw material they have to consume, but it's still frightening."

O'Neill turned his chair to the Un-Ascended version of Daniel Jackson. "Billions of bugs in an environment with virtually limitless raw material to replicate with, what do you expect us to do?"

Daniel shrugged defiantly. "I don't know, I don't remember, or I've not done it yet."

O'Neill wagged his finger. "You know this whole ascension thing was supposed to be good. Instead it's lead from one crisis to the next."

"Sir. I've located one of the other ships that Daniel sent here." She brought up the Vengeful Spirit on screen. O'Neill couldn't suppress the whistle.

"Now that's a ship."

"Indeed." The ever-stoic, ever-silent member of SG-1 announced from behind O'Neills left shoulder. He was glad he had requested SG-1 accompany him on this mission, while he had taken command of the Prometheus rather than the SGC so that he could actually go out in the Galaxy and do some good. He had missed the companionship of Teal'c.

"Bring us alongside, maximum thrust, and broadcast on all channels-" Marks nodded to indicate he was broadcasting. "This is General Jack O'Neill of the U-S-A-F vessel Prometheus. We are standing by and ready to assist. I will say we do have experience with these pesty little buggers, and we're ready to get to work." He nodded to Marks, before turning back to Sam Carter.

"We do have a weapon to defeat the buggers, right?"

"Well, we do have the specifications made by you for the Anti-Replicator Weapon. The problem is whether or not these bugs are immune to it or not. Then it's trying to hit the entire planet at once. It's not as if we'll get many chances, and we need to stop them getting off-world. The blockade is a good start but if they have a hyperspace capable ship there is nothing to stop them jumping away before they make orbit."

"So you have a plan right?"

The corner of her mouth twitched slightly, in what could have been an attempt to hide a wince. "I plan, to have a plan, Sir."

The communications adepts arrayed along banks of screens and cogitator consoles worked furiously, some typing rapidly with cybernetic fingers, others jacked directly into the Vengeful Spirit by neuro-link. All of them worked to spread the Warmaster's message in as many dialects and frequencies as they knew. They left their secure frequencies dead, not wishing the Replicator threat to intercept their secure channels so soon. Horus could not be sure what level of electronic warfare the machine-race was capable of while they were still planetside, but an unknown threat demanded caution.

A master of signal near the dais of Horus' throne approached the Warmaster, and saluted him in greeting. "My Lord-Primarch," said the Astartes soldier, arrayed in naval fatigues rather than ceramite plate, "We are being hailed. I am patching you through."

Horus resumed his place on his command throne to receive the message. An admiral, Killian, had answered their hail with suspicion. Another holographic display flicked to life, showing his ship and its escorts closing on the Vengeful Spirit's position. Horus began to bark orders to nearby attendants, who scurried off to carry out his orders. He was preparing to open a communications link with the Exodus, complete with video feed.

The feed went live, and Horus prepared his greeting. He sat attentively at his throne, grasping the armrests carved into the shapes of snarling wolves. In the backdrop behind him, the Eye of Horus loomed, burning orange-red. With no baseline humans anywhere visible for a point of comparison, Horus' tremendous bulk was belied, and across the video feed he seemed like nothing more than a muscular, bull-necked man.

"I am named Horus Lupercal. I am Warmaster of the Imperium of Man, and Primarch of the Sixteenth Astartes Legion. I am in this system to clean up your mess. Replicators are eating this world alive from the inside out, you will need all of the help you can get."

"Another hail." The master of signal barked, and immediately patched it through to Horus.

This was a much different figure, General O'Neil, of the Prometheus, which the holo-display identified and showed sailing toward them. The Vengeful Spirit was beginning to collect hangers-on like an orbit of planets about a star. Horus commanded for another broadcast to be prepared, this time directed at these newcomers.

"General, I am Warmaster Horus Lupercal, I command the Vengeful Spirit. I am most interested in any intelligence you have on the Replicator threat. Please allow me to extend an invitation to come aboard and join my war council."

---

"Bring us in at one-quarter impulse." Captain Picard commanded the helm, and the Enterprise-D sailed smoothly toward the mustering fleet.

The Captain watched the bridge view-screen warily, his brow furrowed, gripping the arms of his captain's chair. He saw the planet below them, a veritable ecumenopolis, and the hundreds, maybe thousands of ships circling around it like buzzing flies. He wondered if the planet they had been transported across universes and dimensions to save was already dead and did not know it. Unseen, thousands of miles below them, Replicators ate away at the world, consuming and growing like a cancer. This was a worst-case scenario in his mind, like the most fevered nightmares he had suffered after his capture by the Borg. Even if this world could not be saved, he would have to try.

"Mister Data, are our sensors capable of identifying Replicator activity from orbit?" The easiest way to cure a cancer? Cut it out.

"No, sir." Data replied succinctly, and turned around from the ops console to speak to the Captain directly, "The electronic interference radiating from this planet is too dense to identify individual signatures. If we could isolate the Replicators' energy signal, or identify a material present in their construction that is not present terrestrially, it may be possible."

"Thank you, Mister Data." Picard mulled over this information. It was not outside the range of possibility, but they were lacking vital intelligence. What they needed was a subject to study, dead or alive. The idea of bringing technology-assimilating machines aboard the Enterprise was daunting, but they had managed to keep Borg subject captive before.

The tactical console chirped, and Lieutenant Worf said, "Captain, we are being hailed. Multiple ships, each has a different energy signature and identity protocols."

Picard shared a look with Commander Riker. Both men seemed exasperated by the chaos of their current situation. Picard answered, "Put the hails onscreen, Mister Worf. We'll answer them as they come in."

The first hails were audio only. Foremost was from the Vengeful Spirit, which Worf identified as the staggeringly-massive ship looming in high orbit about the planet. It was larger even than a Borg vessel, and looked like a skyscraper set adrift in the heavens. They didn't have the linkup that their leader, the "Warmaster," was requesting, and answered them with a standardized greeting. Picard did not like the sound of that title, Warmaster, it spoke of a culture very much at odds with the Federation's own.

The next one was from a USAF General. "U-S-A-F?" Worf voiced his confusion.

"United States Air Force, a 20th century Earth military organization." Data answered, in his usual helpful, informative tone. "Historical data suggests that the organization was destroyed at some point during World War III. Though I do not have any record of interstellar spacecraft being constructed under that identifier."

"Different universes, Data." Picard said. "A different Earth, with a history totally different to ours." He looked to Worf, "Hail them." Picard straightened his uniform blouse, preparing for video communication, and once the frequency was open he said, "General O'Neil, this is Captain Jean-Luc Picard of the Federation starship Enterprise. We read you and are ready to engage. Any information you would care to share with us regarding our mutual problem would be greatly appreciated."

---

---

Although silence reigned in the space left following Daniel's departure, the Endeavor's crew was anything but quiet, for a hurried back and forth was presently occurring among them.

'I'm just surprised he was able to halt the flow of time for that long,' Drin communicated, imparting the equivalent of a chuckle into the thought. 'Not that it will last much longer granted.'

'It seems we have no time to waste debating the matter then,' said Persi, who sent out the vaguest impression of an eyeroll. 'Better to get ready to re-engage. It's not like the Daleks will go easy on us just because we were having a chat with a higher-dimensional entity after all.'

Another bout of heated debate broke out then as Zevo moved in opposition of that notion, though it was quickly brought to heel a moment later by Gretho.

"Arguing like this will get us nowhere," he said at last. And, though he could not physically see the majority of them, the rest of the Endeavor's crew could feel the weight of his gaze through the mental link they all shared. The weight of countless millennia to their meagre centuries. "Either course of action presents us with opportunity when you get down to it. Our continued intervention here might just turn the tide, or it might not, and the same could be said for the universe we have been requested to aid."

He paused to see if anyone else would give voice to a complaint. When no one did, however, he continued.

"Qoryudvodronmen, what do you make of the information Daniel gave us?"

"It's interesting enough I suppose," she said over the comms this time. "But given my area of expertise I'm assuming you want me to give an appraisal of their technology?"

Gretho nodded, "That is correct."

"Well, it's certainly more impressive than slamming rocks together, if rather typical for a lesser species. Granted, he only provided us the bare minimum. Things we'd need to know to do our jobs instead of the deeper intricacies."

"Do you think you could construct an interuniversal beacon with it?"

Qor's jaw worked.

"It wouldn't be easy, but I could if given enough time. The calculations would be a problem though. Even for me it'd take hundreds of years-"

Gretho dismissed her concern with a wave.

"INTRA can help with that. What about a telepathic signature?"

Qor blinked. She hadn't thought much of this line of questioning initially, but that definitely got her attention. It almost sounded as if he was trying to see whether or not they could signal someone, or something, but she'd be damned if she could figure out what.

"Sir... what exactly are you getting at here?"

Gretho leaned back in his chair, exhaling slowly as he did so.

"Gallifrey must not fall, you all know this. And what better way is there to ensure such an outcome than to simply remove it from the equation altogether? If we can construct the beacon I have in mind, we might just be able to pull the entire planet into this new universe that entity wants us to save. It won't bring an end to the Time War necessarily, but it will grant a much needed reprieve."

There was naught but more silence as he shifted his attention back to the now frozen horizon. It reminded him of the art his people used to make back before the War stripped that aspect of their culture from them. Reminded him of all the moments they'd frozen in time and preserved for eternity upon eternity. But unlike all those static moments, this one would inevitably resume, and death's grim march along with it. That was a fact he simply could not accept. He'd fought for far too long and had his own history mangled far too much just to give up and die, they all had. But that is what would happen if they stayed here. Gretho knew it, and so did his crew, whether they wished to admit it or not. Although many senior officers within Gallifreyan High Command told recruits nowadays that the glimpses of death and destruction they saw were not visions or premonitions, veterans like him knew the truth. Hell, they'd lived it.

Time Lords had several senses available to them, and twenty-two of them had to do with time specifically. Gretho knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that he and the rest of his crew would be lying dead in the rubble below if they remained here, their bodies crushed by the wreckage of their own Bowship, and damaged beyond any ability to repair. He'd seen it, so for him at least their course of action was clear. What was less clear, however, was the goal he was not-so-subtly angling at. Or, rather, the probability of them achieving it. His plan sounded easy enough. They'd cross over to this new universe and use the technology they found there to construct a beacon, utilizing their own minds and even biodata if need be to create a link that would, hopefully, prove strong enough to bring their homeworld over in full. The Daleks left on Gallifrey's surface would still be a problem naturally, and so would sealing the holes left behind in the universal barriers, but they'd be manageable ones at the very least. More manageable than the ten million ships currently stationed overhead anyway.

In actual practice, though, such a plan was barely plausible at best, and downright infeasible at worst thanks to the sheer amount of obstacles before them. There was still the question of whether or not they'd even be able to acquire the resources required to build the beacon in the first place, to say nothing of the threat posed by the Replicators and the other factions. Even so, his people had done the impossible before, and made it look like child's play at that, so who was he to let a little thing like feasibility stop him? Especially considering what was at stake...

"Are you sure that's wise, sir?"

It was INTRA.

"The Protocols clearly state that you are not to interfere with the affairs of lesser species."

Gretho laughed. It wasn't cruel or malicious, but jaded. Cynical.

"The Protocols haven't been a concern for a while now. If they were, we'd not be waging war in the first place."

There was a pause.

"I've made up my mind," Gretho said, his voice booming over the shipboard comms. "We'll provide the aid that Daniel requests, but should the opportunity present itself, you are to seize what technology you can and hand it over to Qor for study unless it happens to be particularly dangerous. As for the Replicators, they are to be destroyed outright. The last thing we need is one of those machines stealing our technology and using it against us."

There was a round of telepathic agreement from the others, though not all of them seemed too keen on this plan, Persi in particular. In the end however there wasn't much for them to do, as seniority was seniority, and an order was an order. Thus it was that Gretho reached out once more, signaling Daniel to initiate the transference.

USAF PROMETHEUS // CORUSCANT

O'Neill sighed as another vessel approached, this one claiming to be the Federation vessel Enterprise. This was all getting a little... messy. He scowled in the general direction of Daniel, who merely shrugged. As the various requests came streaming in, from the Republic Vessels, the Imperium, and the Federation. O'Neill was about to refuse the Imperiums request, when before he managed to utter a word Daniel spoke up.

"Maybe we should meet."

Eyebrow raised O'Neill turned. "Excuse me?"

"Well there's obviously some confusion, this Republics' capital has just been taken from them, and obviously I haven't communicate with them to let them know help was coming. I just feel like it would go a lot quicker if we all sat down together."

"He has a point, sir." Chimed in Carter from his other side. "The longer we delay, the greater the number of replicators on the planet. Eventually they're going to try and leave the planet. The sooner we can all start working towards eliminating the threat, the better."

"I suppose there's sense in that."

He waved a hand at Marks who nodded that the channel was open. "This is O'Neill. I suggest we all meet aboard the Exodus, in order to discuss our purpose here and what we can do to help. The sooner we do this, the better. They aren't called Replicators for anything."

---

EXODUS // CORUSCANT // GM

All the while Admiral Killian had been speaking with these foreign ships, he had also been conferring with Republic Intelligence and Naval Command. There was no record of these ships, ship types, designations or names in any galactic database that they could find.

Then again it was the same situation with the Replicators, though they hadn't want to talk first.

"Very well. Send your representatives to my ship. We'll discuss matters here."

MOTHER OF INVENTION // MANDALORE

"Give me a status report." The Directors voice was calm as always, as it traversed across the command deck.

"Our transfer is complete-" The Chairman spoke, his tablet in his hands as he poured over the data that had been put through to him from the ships various technicians and scientists. "-We appear to be in orbit above an inhospitable world. Though we can detect several settlements and human life. Various ships."

"Is this Coruscant?"

"It doesn't appear to be. It appears the entity calling itself 'Daniel' has deposited us elsewhere in the Galaxy."

"Alpha." The small holographic armoured A.I appeared on the console before him. "What can you gleam from their systems, without being too invasive?"

"Not very much. They're a neutral world, called Mandalore. Apparently, they're a pacifist society and-" Alarms started blaring throughout the ship. "-they've noticed us and sent ships to intercept."

"Prepare a team Chairman." The Chairman nodded as he walked away, chattering into his comms-unit. The Director focusing his attention back on the A.I. "Open a channel."

"This is Doctor Leonard Church aboard the Mother of Invention. We come in peace, we have been sent here to help with an ongoing crisis in your Galaxy. Should you be willing. I'd like to send an envoy. We're not sure where we are, but I am sure we could be of use to one another."

---

---

Location: Mandalore

Say what you will about the mercurial attitude of many a higher-dimensional entity, or of how gauche Gretho and his people considered the concept of ascending to become beings of pure energy to be, he had to admit that Daniel was nothing if not efficient. For mere moments after he had sent through his request Gretho and crew found themselves orbiting a relatively inhospitable looking planet alongside another—much larger—ship of unfamiliar make. Comparing the rather lavish mental image of Coruscant he'd been given with the largely spartan appearance of the world below, the captain of the Ceaseless Endeavor quickly surmised that this was not the celestial body the Replicators had overtaken, but another planet entirely. One that resided in a completely different star system given the surrounding constellations. Still, it was a start, and one that could benefit them greatly if they handled it properly.

"Captain," Drin said, his face illuminated by the glow that emanated from his station. "I've intercepted a communication from the other ship. It's directed at the planet below, and a cursory scan indicates several craft are incoming from that same location."

Gretho nodded as he brought the Endeavor into a stabler orbit.

"Understood. INTRA, run their languages through the Psio-Linguistic Translator so we aren't wasting time trying to understand one another. When that's done Drin I want you to hail the other ships and perform a scan of this entire sector. We need to know exactly where we are and what we're dealing with."

"Affirmative."

Examining one of the many holographic readouts hovering in the air before him, Gretho addressed Persi next.

"We've got ships coming up from below, you see them?"

She nodded, keeping a close eye on the map floating in the upper-right corner of her vision as her hand settled on the staser controls.

"Copy, I see them."

Gretho turned his attention back to the planet looming before them, his eyes narrowing somewhat as he watched tiny pinpricks of light streak noiselessly through the atmosphere. From what he could tell their designs were completely different than that of the behemoth lumbering beside them, which clued him in on the fact that those staffing it had likely been brought over in a fashion similar to their own.

"Observe but do not fire unless ordered."

"Don't worry, my trigger finger isn't that itchy. Not yet anyway."

Minutes passed, though none aboard the Endeavor could truly be said to be nervous. They'd had meetings like this before, both during the Last Great Time War and earlier in the War in Heaven, and most of those ended up being far tenser than this by virtue of the fact that each side could have been erased from existence five times over then restored before deliberations had even begun. Or worse. There were no temporal powers here however, other than Gretho and the rest of his crew granted, which meant they could be just the tinniest bit lax when it came to standard operating procedure. At any rate INTRA and the translator both had done their work, as had Drin, having relayed a general greeting to all ships in their immediate surroundings, followed swiftly by a declaration of peaceful intent and a request for all parties involved to meet on the nearest neutral ground. Be that in one of their ships drifting through the heavens above or a region on the planet below.

"They're both very anxious, perhaps even suspicious, but neither is deceiving you." The ship's empathic Counselor, Deanna Troi, said to Picard. "They genuinely wish to cooperate."

Picard rose from his chair and tugged down his blouse, saying, "That's a perfectly good place to start. Number One, Mister Data, Counselor, you're with me."

Data rose from his seat and said, "Captain, with your permission, I would like to stay behind on the Enterprise to conduct a series of experiments. I am concerned about the possibility that the physical laws of this universe may not correlate exactly to our own, and therefore may interfere with our more advanced technology, such as the transporter and warp engine."

Picard nodded. "Permission granted. Mister Worf, prepare a shuttle."

---

From the launch bay closest to the command section of the Vengeful Spirit, three quarters of a kilometer below it, the stormbird transport ship Rapture departed the vessel, turning subtly, flying in a wide arc toward the Exodus. It was a vessel painted pitch-black, with gold accoutrements as well as bearing Horus' personal heraldry, his burning red Eye. Two more craft like it, Ragnarok and Kali Yuga stayed docked aboard the flagship.

Horus looked out through the portcullis of the cockpit out into open space, and the planet below them as it slowly grew closer and occluded more of their view. He wanted to get a good look at the world that might be the final resting place for his sons, if he did not act prudently. He directed the navigator to show him a magnified occulus feed of the Exodus and its escort. The cruisers were fine vessels, and he admired the simplicity of their design; they clearly were of ease for this civilization to mass produce, as Coruscant's orbit was thick with them. Despite the elegance of their design, a ship of this size the Vengeful Spirit would blow to smithereens with a single direct hit. For that matter, he left a standing order aboard the Vengeful Spirit to do just that to any ship that attempted to leave Coruscant's atmosphere.

It would be hours yet before they arrived. Their distant posture did have its drawbacks. He turned away from the cockpit and rejoined his Sons within the ship's hold. Horus' Mournival were no more than ten paces from him at all times. Abbadon, his choleric First Captain, stood close at his flank, combi-bolter held at attention. At his other flank was his equerry, Malgohust, arrayed in his life-support modified armor, leaning heavily on Horus' golden standard. Close at hand were phlegmatic Loken, polishing his silver-green helmet, melancholic "Little" Horus sharpening his knife, and sanguine Torgaddon pestering him. Also loaded into the hold were two squads of veteran Legionnaires, five members of the Justaerin terminator squad (to match Abaddon, arrayed in his black terminator armor) and a slumbering dreadnought. Horus had no intention to show most of this to his hosts, but kept them on hand in case a demonstration was necessary. And if for any particular reason things happened to turn sour, they were backup.

After their long flight, Rapture arrived to dock in the landing bay of the Exodus. At first it did not seem that the craft would fit in the bay, but its wings folded upward, narrowing its profile, and it slid in. The bay was secure, and therefore narrow, and the nose of the craft nearly touched the other end by the time the stern passed through the force field. A landing ramp on the side lowered, and a single human man descended. His clothing was simple, off-white, and inoffensively shapeless, with a draping hooded cloak. Underneath was an old man, with short, white hair, and lively, captivating eyes.

He stepped down to greet whatever officer remained to receive them, "My name is Kyril Sindermann, I am Iterator Primus. I speak, and listen, for the Primarch. He is within, and ready to be received. But I must ask on his behalf, that he be permitted an armed guard in his presence, and this bay, as well as all halls on his path to be cleared of nonessential personnel. He is an Imperial regent, and of great importance to our species, as well as a friend to me."

EXODUS // CORUSCANT // GM

The parties from both the Prometheus and Enterprise were seated in separate conference rooms, receiving a basic 'debrief' by Republic forces. The simple background check, who they were, why they were here. All the while they waited for the shuttle from the Vengeful Spirit to arrive. Which took its time. CT-35691 seriously believed for a moment that the shuttle wouldn't fit in the bay, until it folded up its wings and eased itself in very carefully. With very little of it protruding out of the hangar. He supposed they should have used the main ventral hangar for it to dock, however the Admiral had ordered the side hangars be used as it put the Exodus in a less vulnerable position.

He offered a salute at the singular man as he descended. Allowing him to speak first.

"All corridors have already been secured, for our own safety as well as your own. The other, delegates-" There wasn't really a better word for the motley assortment of individuals aboard "-have all been allowed arms so I believe my Admiral will consent to your request."

---

PROMETHEUS AWAY TEAM // EXODUS // CORUSCANT

Since beaming aboard General O'Neill, Teal'c, Daniel, and Sam herself had been drilled relentlessly. She was a bit tired of it, but she had already been in a grumpy mood by the inclusion of the General. When was he going to realize that SG-1 was now her team? And Mitchell was a fine officer who deserved to be here instead of back aboard the Prometheus keeping watch. Still, that wasn't her place to speak up against him. He was in command. Teal'c cast her a look and she ignored it.

He was always too perceptive.

They all turned as the door opened, revealing one of the clones that inhabited the ship. She was used to seeing identical beings, with the Asgard, however, seeing identical humans walking around was weirdly unsettling.

"All parties are present Sirs-" Sam waited for the inevitable and ma'am, but it never came. "-If you would follow me."

"About time." Groaned the General. "What, did they walk here?"

"We have no idea what their technology is like Jack." retorted Daniel.

"They were pretty far out Sir. Depending on the preparations they had to undergo, and any transport aboard a ship of their size. I would say the time was justified."

"Meanwhile the Replicators just keep... replicating."

"I didn't say it was ideal, sir." She winced as she said it. It came across as a little harsh.

Any response was missed as the door to the conference room was opened just as some individuals in very bright uniforms were escorted in from the other side. Their clone attachée introduced them as the Crew of the Enterprise. Meanwhile, the clone escorting SG-1 introduced them as the crew of the Prometheus.

The General moved over to the individuals in the Red, Blue, and Yellow shirts. Aiming for the bald man in the middle. The middle was a good safe bet, especially when he looked like the oldest there. O'Neill offered his hand to shake.

"General Jack O'Neill, commander of the USAF vessel Prometheus. A pleasure to meet you, and might I just say those are some mightily colorful uniforms you've got there."

---

PELICAN 479er // MANDALORE

Carolina looked around her as she walked out the back of the Pelican. Flanked by the Dakotas, Washington, and York. They all eyed their surroundings warily. Carolina had already noted several guards out of plain sight. Turning to face the rest of the team, speaking in a hushed tone. "North, focus attention on the higher levels. Several snipers at your 3 and 9. South, lower 2 and 10." Turning back as a guard approached, hand held out.

"You will need to wait here. Another unidentified ship is approaching, the Duchess will see you both simultaneously."

Carolina nodded, turning to wait for the other uninvited guests.

---

---

Location: Mandalore

"We've got a reply," Drin said after some time had passed. "They've requested we land and meet their Duchess. Most likely a dignitary of some sort, if not their leader outright judging by the way the speak of her."

Gretho took a second to digest that information before answering.

"Relay our acknowledgement and acceptance of their request. That means hands off the stasers Persi."

The Gallifreyan in question rolled her eyes and threw her hands up dramatically.

"Fine! But I better get to blow something up later."

"You'll get your chance when we take the fight to the Replicators newblood," Zevo remarked as she rummaged about in one of the ship's compartments. "For now come grab your gear and suit up. The last thing we need is our biodata mucking with the natural history of a planet that isn't even our own."

Maz gave a small shake of his head as Persi moved to do as she was told; being followed shortly thereafter by Drin, Qor, and Zevo herself.

"The newblood Houses always loom such... intense personalities."

The corners of Gretho's mouth quirked downwards as he gave the command to INTRA to bring the ship down to Mandalore's surface.

"Indeed."

With that the captain of the Endeavor rose to his feet and made his way towards Zevo and the others, Maz following close behind. The two of them took some easily concealed sidearms from one of the weapons lockers—nothing major, just a couple of low-powered stasers they could use to stun potential enemies if need be—along with a pair of specialized breathing masks. A minute or two later and the crew of the Endeavor had finally geared up. Their faces lay concealed behind ornate rusty-red masks designed to recycle the air they breathed, while their eyes had been reduced to baleful halos of electronic red. The attire they wore had changed also, from the mobility and combat oriented armor they usually sported, to bulky environment suits designed to minimize the overall impact they had on the world below. All that remained was the rest of their descent which, thanks to INTRA's efficiency and their drive's power, passed quickly. Having gathered near the landing ramp, the only indication of their passage through the planet's atmosphere was a slight vibration that died out as quickly as it had come.

Ultimately the ship navigated its way to the planet's capitol, coming to rest in the air a few feet above one of the many exterior landing pads. A boarding ramp lowered a few seconds later with the slight hiss of some unknown chemical particulate, and the Endeavor's crew disembarked. Surveying their surroundings briefly they trundled their way towards the nearest guard, inquired as to the location of the Duchess, and then made their way to her. Under armed escort and careful watch of course.

---

Location: Coruscant

Just after accepting to the being called Daniel Jackson’s request, the entirety of the Ark and all the Autobots aboard were ripped from the space they had once inhabited. The Ark returned to reality in orbit of a massive city planet.

Optimus Prime believed that this was Coruscant, the world Jackson had told him had been invaded by the Replicators. The fact that these hostile forces were cybernetic in nature brought a pause to Optimus’ thoughts. Thanks to the actions of the Decepticons of his home universe, Prime found that the Autobots were always facing anti-cybernetic prejudice, being lumped in with all of their atrocities. He wondered if that would continue here, what with all the damage the Replicators had already done to this universe.

The Autobot vessel was then hailed by the Admiral who seemed to be in charge of the defensive fleet orbiting Coruscant. The biological being, seemingly of the same species as Daniel Jackson, appeared on the view screen of the ship’s bridge. A an initial klick in which the Admiral spoke in his native language, Teletraan I’s language matrix converted it to modern Cybertronian.

The Admiral didn’t seem too astonished to see the large Cybertronians as Optimus Prime introduced himself and his crew. Determining that the Autobots were here to help, Admiral Killian invited Optimus to a meeting aboard the Exodus.

As the view screen shut off, Optimus turned to the bridge crew of the Ark. They all looked tired and worn down to the Autobot commander, after mega-cycles of fighting. And yet Optimus had led them into a new war, this one not even against something that was a threat to the Autobots currently. It could easily of been too much for the rag tag crew.

“I know this wasn’t the choice all of you wished I would make,” stated Optimus Prime, “But I had to adhere to the Autobot code. To help those in danger. I am operating under those principles in my role as the Ark’s commanding officer.”

“We’re behind you one hundred percent Prime,” said Bumblebee from the helmsman’s seat.

“Thank you,” said Optimus, “Now I’ll need a team to escort me aboard the Exodus. Jazz, Prowl, and Hound, we’ll take one of the shuttles.”

“Yes Prime,” the three officers said in unison.

Optimus Prime and his trio of officers then left the bridge of the Ark, taking the lift down to the hangar. Once there, Optimus was reminded of just how few supplies had made it off of Cybertron. Only a handful of shuttle craft were loaded into the Ark’s hangar bay, many of them damaged from either combat or wear and tear that they didn’t have the parts to fix.

The few Autobots who were milling about the hangar, not really doing much, all raised to attention at the sight of their commander. A small yellow Autobot took the lead, daring to approach the Autobot commander.

“Bumper at your service sir,” he said with a salute, “How may I help you?”

“We are in need of a shuttle for an important diplomatic mission,” stated Optimus Prime.

“Great, okay, well I guess you need a pilot?” asked Bumper.

“Do you have anyone in mind?” asked Jazz.

“That would be me. I’m one of the few pilots with actual experience left. The war destroyed everyone else.”

Optimus Prime nodded. He was painfully aware of how many of his comrades had not made it off Cybertron. The cost of the war was not only in resources but in the lives of most Cybertronians.

“Very well, Bumper you shall be our pilot,” said Optimus Prime.

The Autobot commander and officers then entered the yellow shuttle that was in the best condition. As Bumper flicked on the engine, it gave a little bit of a stutter before the energy flowed in the shuttle.

The Autobot shuttle lifted out of the hangar, passing through the shields of the Ark. Bumper did his best to avoid the other ships of the Republic fleet, as he flew straight to the Exodus. Optimus had Jazz submit the code provided by the Admiral so that they could land in the Exodus.

Bumper landed the shuttle in the hangar, causing it to make a popping noise before shutting down. Optimus exited the shuttle first, realizing that the Autobots seemed to be the last delegation to arrive.

“Bumper, remain with the shuttle,” ordered Optimus, “Everyone else, fall in behind.”

The Autobots were then led away by a Clone Trooper, taken into a conference room. The Republic forces attempted to ascertain who the Cybertronians were and why they had come to Coruscant. Optimus Prime decided to do all the talking, explaining the principles of the Autobots and how they couldn’t refuse a call for help.

After a little while, the Clone Troopers said that their story checked out. The Autobots would then be led into a bigger conference room, where they would be introduced as the crew of the Ark.

Optimus Prime noted that almost every being he had seen in this universe was of that same biological species. He also noted that this ship wasn’t designed for beings of the Autobots size, their heads just barely not scraping on the ceiling.

Optimus then approached the two groups of biologicals already gathered in the room. One group seemed to have garments of different colors to possibly denote rank while the others had more similar uniforms. Optimus wasn’t sure who exactly was in charge.

“I am Optimus Prime, leader of the Autobots,” stated Optimus, the language files sent to him by Teletraan I doing the translation, “We are here to help defeat the Replicator menace.”

Behind Prime, his first officer Jazz attempted to take a seat only to find that the chairs were definitely not designed with large robots in mind. For all the assembled Autobots, it seemed that these people had never come across a species like Cybertronians. Again Optimus wondered if they would be lumped in with the cybernetic invaders on the planet below.

---

---

---

Location: Mandalore

Christopher Summers had been in bed with Hepzibah when he had got the alert from Waldo that summoned had just appeared on the bridge of the Starjammer.

Grumbling as he and his first mate put back on their clothes, Christopher and Hepzibah took the lift up to the bridge. Once there they were greeted by a man calling himself Daniel Jackson. He explained the threat of the Replicators, before asking for the assistance of the Starjammer.

Christopher looked over his crew, and his son with his girlfriend who had been visiting the ship at the time.

“What do you say? One more adventure?” asked Christopher.

There was a resounding cheer all along the bridge.

“I think you have our answer,” said Christopher.

Daniel then disappeared, the Starjammer following soon after him. No longer in Kree Empire space, the Starjammer was in orbit of an unknown. A quick scan by Waldo brought up some facts. While the planet was decently populated, it was nowhere near a planet sized city. Christopher could easily say that this was not Coruscant, the place Daniel had said was under attack by the Replicators.

“Chris, trust did we Daniel Jackson?” asked Hepzibah, “Rip from Kree, space we are no longer. Doomed, are we?”

Christopher turned to the head of security aboard the ship, “Raza, give me a scan of the planet’s defense systems. I want to know what they’re firing before they get a chance to fire it.”

“Of course Captain,” Raza said as he tapped on his com-screen, “While full scans of the planet will take a little bit I can report that craft are coming up from the surface to engage us. Shall I raise shields?”

“No, open a channel instead,” ordered Christopher, “This is Captain Christopher Summers of the Starjammer. We’ve been brought here to help you. Apparently your universe has a problem with Replicators?”

While there initially was no response, comm chatter soon began to be exchanged by the various ships in orbit of the planet and those down below. After a few tense minutes, the newly arrived ships were allowed to come down to the surface to meet the Duchess, whoever that was.

“Raza, at the first sign of trouble, turn on the shields,” said Christopher, “I’ll be heading down to the planet to do some good old fashioned diplomacy.”

“Christ, who to take, will go planet with you?” asked Hepzibah.

“While I would love to bring you darling, I need someone I trust to run the Starjammer while I’m gone,” explained Christopher, “Plus I want some power behind me if things go bad, so I’m requesting Carol, Alex, and Lorna join me. If that is alright with you guys.”

“Sure it is Dad. Meeting new alien races is part of the dream kids have when thinking of traveling the stars,” explained Alexander.

“Plus this is a couples’ vacation for us,” added Lorna, “So we’re supposed to spend it together.”

“And if we do end up fighting, I’d be down for that. It has been too long since I punched someone in the face,” said Carol.

“Then it’s decided,” stated Christopher.

The four humans left the bridge and took the lift down to the hangar. Inside were a few Shi’ar shuttles of an older make. There had been more back when the Starjammer was first stolen, but the numbers had thinned out from shuttles being destroyed in battle, sold to make some credits, or given away to friendly organizations.

The Starjammer away crew then loaded into the insect like shuttle, Carol immediately taking the controls. Once strapped in, the shuttle rose off the hangar without making a sound. It was truly a testament to the greatness of Shi’ar construction.

Exiting through the Starjammer’s shields, and headed for the planet below, Mandalore the native defense forces had called it. The shuttle lowered down through the clouds to the assigned coordinates before appearing above a large city.

With many years of expertise under her belt as a pilot, Carol landed the Shi’ar shuttle on a landing pad that was primed for the arrival of the Starjammers.

Christopher stepped out of the shuttle first, immediately noting that he saw two snipers on a nearby building. Wherever you found one or two of that kind usually meant that there were more about.

The assembled guard didn’t react too much to Christopher, Alexander or Lorna exiting the shuttle, but a few of them were visibly concerned when Carol closed the shuttle, revealing her red skin and head that was constantly on fire.

“What, never seen a superhero before?” Carol asked.

Her English was then translated into whatever language these Mandalorians spoke through the use of advanced Shi’ar communicators. Christopher then decided to also make use of the communicator.

“I’m Captain Summers and I was promised a meeting with the Duchess,” said Christopher, “There’s a lot going on that I don’t know about and I would really like some answers.”

The lead Mandalorian guard turned to Christopher, “And you will see her. We’re just waiting on confirmation that the representatives of the other mystery ships are on planet and prepared for the meeting.”

Christopher knew that Daniel Jackson had said he would gather other ships to aid in the battle against the Replicators, but just how many had he brought to this universe? Was there a fleet out there, going after the machine menace? If so it would have been around Coruscant and not this Mandalore place. Was the Starjammer taken to the wrong part of this galaxy.

“Well you always try new things together, like saving another universe,” said Alexander to Lorna, “But I was hoping you meant trying things in the bedroom.”

“Alex!” said a shocked Lorna as she punched him in the arm.

Christopher smiled. It seemed his son had inherited his humor. That made him glad, as he had missed out on so much of his life. It had been so long since he last returned to Earth, only learning recently through Alexander and Lorna that his other son Scott had just become a father.

Christopher made a mental note to have a long vacation back on Earth once this whole Replicator mess was dealt with.

Smiling and bowing to the junior officer receiving them, Sindermann returned to within the stormbird, and soon emerged from it again, flanked by titans. Pounding down the landing ramp after him were the tank-like ceramic-armored figures of Astartes Legionnaires, each one seven feet tall or close to it. Four marched out, one after another, bolters slung and helms carried ceremoniously under their arms. The last of the four to emerge, Malgohurst, limped rather than marched proudly, and leaned on the golden standard of the Warmaster like a walking staff.

The four Astartes made ranks in front of the landing ramp, and awaited the Warmaster. Then, he emerged. Like a moving mountain of metal and black ceramic plate, Horus Lupercal emerged in his panoply of war, the Serpent's Scales. He carried no weapons, not even his famed Talon of Horus, but was arrayed in heavy terminator plate armor all the same. He stomped out, proportionately larger to his Astartes warriors as they were to baseline humans, with Abadddon trailing behind him, seeming so much like his Primarch's miniature double.

They marched silently through the corridors, following the lead of the attending officer. Loken caught sight of a few more officers scattered in the landing bay and halls, and noticed their similarity to one another. Far too close to be familial or ethno-genetic. "Look. Clones." He said, low enough that only the men next to him could hear. Horus grunted in acknowledgement. Advanced genetic manipulation was a technology that Horus was more than familiar with.

They eventually reached their destination, Horus shuffling sideways to fit his armored bulk through the door, and stood at their end of the conference hall, not bothering to test their weight against the clearly insufficient seating.

"I hope I did not keep you waiting overly long. I am Warmaster Horus Lupercal." He gestured with an armored hand to his company, "These are my Mournival, my most trusted military advisors."

---

Picard smiled and greeted O'Neill, returning his handshake warmly, "General, a pleasure to make your acquaintance. I am Captain Jean-Luc Picard, of the Federation starship Enterprise." Even if it was not their own Earth these people were from, it was still a relief to have fellow Earthlings as part of the delegation. "These are my associates: my first officer, Commander William Riker, and ship's counselor Deanna Troi."

Will stepped forward to shake hands. "I'm glad you appreciate the uniforms." He gave them an infectious grin. "They're a proud part of our heritage. Starfleet officers have worn these colors for nearly three-hundred years."

"I think you would cut a striking figure in one, General." Troi added, teasingly.

EXODUS // CORUSCANT // GM POST

As the various parties entered and introduced themselves, including men in giant armour suits and what appeared to be giant humanoid-robots. Different, but not completely out of the realm of possibility from what Killian had seen throughout the Galaxy. Once silence settled Killian spoke up. "Everyone, please be seated."

He turned to the giants in the room. "Apologies to those present that are unable to sit."

"We've reviewed the details and the information you've given it and Republic High Command has agreed that you appear to be genuine in your offer to help. Their only request before we actively interact in a military setting is that a Jedi comes and tests your sincerity, I'm told Master Kenobi is on his way now."

He looked around the room, trying to remember who was who, before settling on a blonde in a beige uniform with a black pocketed vest.

"It appears that-" He paused on the name. "-Colonel Carter is our resident expert on the threat. I'd ask that she gives us what information she can on the threat."

---

DUCHESS SATINE // MANDALORE // GM POST

The various colourful and odd assortment of guests to Mandalore were brought to what was obviously a warehouse on the docks. The room was full of guards with a lone, regal, figure standing at the far end. Dust still scattered the warehouse which had obviously been cleared purposefully for this meeting.

"Greetings. I am Duchess Satine, regent of Mandalore. I bid you welcome." She nodded and bowed to each party individually. "We understand from your various communications that you are from, alternate universes. Before we begin I'd like to ask how that's possible."

---

SG-1 (+O'Neill) // EXODUS // CORUSCANT

O'Neill couldn't contain his shock, slight panic, and awe at the giant suits of armour and the robots that entered the room. He turned back to the members of starfleet. "I think you've just been upstaged."

He and the members of SG-1 took their seats as the Republic Admiral entered the room. So many titles and factions to try and get used to. It was a lot more complex than what he dealt with normally. As Carter was addressed O'Neill nodded in her direction, she pulled out a couple of laptops out of a nearby bag and slid them around the table. One to each individual faction.

"These are laptops, if you need any assistance in their operation feel free to ask me after. They contain all the information we have on the Replicators. Essentially they are a highly advanced machine race from our home universe. The scourge of a race far more advanced than ourselves, each replicator is made up of several blocks. We're not entirely sure how the blocks function, but the Replicators can cannibalise any metallic material in order to make new blocks. Typically controlled by a Queen, more recently we have encountered Human Form Replicators that are made up of nanites. Capable of higher thought, these versions are based of an Android supposed to mimic human behaviour-" She cast Daniel a sideglance. "-albeit the Android was flawed."

"We have defeated them in the past with disruptor technology which cancels the communication between individual blocks rendering them inert however they have proven disturbingly adept at adapting to this. Projectile weapons also work, however they are immune to energy weapon fire...

Any questions?"

---

---

Location: Mandalore

Gretho and crew would stay silent for the majority of Satine's greeting, the hiss of recycled air from the respirators they wore being the only sound to emanate from their suits aside from the occasional whirring of hidden servos and other such mechanisms as they glanced at the guards that surrounded them, and two additional groups of disparate people. Their allies in all likelihood the captain surmised, though from which universes Daniel had fetched them he couldn't even begin to say. Still, it was far from the strangest thing any of them had witnessed over the course of their long lives, nor the most shocking, so he paid it little mind. At length, however, Gretho reminded himself of the job they had all been brought here to do and refocused his attention.

"Dimensional engineering is the long of it," he remarked, training his gaze on the Duchess at last. Or at least that's what it looked like anyway. In a fashion similar the facially concealing helmets the Mandalorians wore, it was rather hard to tell where any member of the Endeavor's was actually looking. A fact that was, in all likelihood, an intentional part of their equipment's design.

"The short, however, is a higher-dimensional entity did it. One going by the name of Daniel, that's what brought us all here."

He indicated the other two groups with a slight nod before falling silent. The Duchess didn't need an entire history lesson, only the basics.

Massive humanoid robots arrived after them, and the mood of the meeting immediately changed for the delegations from the Imperium of Man. None spoke the words aloud, but the same thought went through each of their minds: men of iron. Aximand seemed as though he was about to do something rash, and so Horus stayed him, putting his huge hand upon his son's armored forearm. This was not the time nor place for a fight, even if they did face down the ruination of mankind.

The briefing commence, and Horus studied O'Neill. He had the bearing of an experienced soldier, and Horus could see in his eyes that he had faced down the very threat he spoke of. Meanwhile, Sindermann idly tapped at the small, primitive cogitator they had been given, as he was the only person with fingers small enough to manipulate the keyboard. Horus would have to send the technology to be assessed and dissected by his tech-adepts the next chance he got.

Abaddon gave something of a growling chuckle as O'Neill finished his briefing. "General, I think you'll find that ballistic weapons are a specialty of ours." He snapped his fingers in front of Axmiand, who reluctantly cleared his weapon and set it down on the table to be inspected by the other parties. "The Tigrus-pattern boltgun, in its humble glory. Multiple fire selectors, infra-red targeting linkup, and fires a point six-aught gyrojet-assisted mass-reactive shell." The bolter was a staggering weapon, so large that an unaided human could barely lift it, much less bring it about to fire. "We have twenty thousand ready to issue, and six-hundred in the hands of capable Astartes soldiers."

Horus stepped forward, his First Captain retreating to allow the Warmaster to speak. "We can provide armaments, should you need them. However, I feel that the surest course of action would be to begin orbital bombardment of the areas confirmed to have replicator activity."

---

"I have heard enough of this." Picard spoke, his voice hard with restrained anger, and rose from his seat. "Trillions of lives are at stake on this world alone, and you wish to make this into, what, one of your war games?" He accused Horus. The entire time the Warmaster had been speaking, Troi had been whispering to Picard and Riker, telling them of the darkness that lurked in the demigod's heart.

He turned then to O'Neill, seeing him as a more reasonable figure, "General, you said that the replicators are capable of manifesting humanoid-level intelligence. Would it be possible to communicate with them, reason with them? Surely they would be able to see the logic in brokering a peace, if we are already willing to sacrifice countless innocents to ensure their destruction. There must be some need of theirs that we could accommodate."

PROMETHEUS // CORUSCANT

Teal'c raised an eyebrow at the massive bolt-gun. O'Neill appeared impressed, Carter curious. Daniel ignored it, and was about to butt in before Picard did. Picard was his kind of captain, that was for sure.

Before O'Neill could offer a rebuttal Daniel spoke. "Hi, Doctor Daniel Jackson here. Some of you may know my ascended version." He offered a faint wave.

"The issue is Captain Picard, that the android the human-forms base themselves off was flawed. In trying to correct her flaw they have actually taken away what little of the programming they had to make themselves human and have anything resembling reason. Even the human forms just want to indiscriminately consume. They know they are near impossible to stop, they don't need to negotiate because everytime they fail, they learn and they adapt."

Carter spoke up next. "We have had success against them in the past. Using various means we've eliminated the threat in two galaxies now. Once through creating a blackhole, and once using a combination of technology from a race we call the ancients. It is possible that through our combined technologies we could find a way to modify the disruptor technology we already have to wipe them all out, we just have to be sure we can hit them all at once before they can adapt."

"Reasonably-" It was now O'Neill that spoke. "-We need to focus on the evacuation of civilians. Replicators don't go out of their way to kill, but they will kill anything that threatens them or that is in their way. Now we have beaming technology so can pull them off the planet without putting boots on the ground, but we're going to need to get closer... and somewhere to send them."

---

MANDALORE // GM + MOI AWAY TEAM

"So you are from another universe?"

Carolina removed her helmet, releasing her ponytail of read hair as she did so. Staring at the duchess with her piercing green eyes. "That's correct. As our friends here said, we're here to fight a race of machines that have invaded a world called Coruscant-"

The Duchesses eyes widened. "I have had reports about the plague that's currently infecting the capital of the republic, however you are nearly half a galaxy away."

Carolina raised an eyebrow, looking between her team and the various mismatch of other alternate-reality peoples.

"Then why are we here?"

---

Location: Coruscant

Upon finishing his introduction, Optimus Prime decided to stand in the corner of the meeting room, his three other officers following after him. Unfortunately the room was not designed with Cybertronians in mind as the four Autobots could neither sit down or stand up fully without hitting their heads on the ceiling.

The Autobots decided to remain silent as the various other parties introduced themselves, Jazz noting that the heavily armored biologicals had a reaction to the sight of the Cybertronians. But Jazz decided to ignore it, as the Autobots probably seemed like some strange alien race. But to the group of Autobots in this room, these biologicals of seemingly the same species were foreign to them, having never encountered them before.

Admiral Killian then began to speak mentioning that something called a Jedi would be coming to test the sincerity of the dimensional travelers. Optimus Prime was fine with this, knowing in his Spark that he and his comrades intentions were pure. As for the other parties, Optimus hoped for the best that they were sincere in wanting to help. Yet he couldn’t help but glance with his optics at the one called Warmaster Horus.

The biological known as Colonel Carter, apparently an expert on the Replicators, then spoke, passing some sort of portable computer to each of the gathered factions. The Autobots weren’t really sure what to do with it as the buttons were much too small for their over sized mechanical digits. So instead they focused on what the Colonel had to say.

Apparently the Replicators could consume metallic material to create more of them, which given the fact that they were on a planet sized city did raise a lot of concern in Optimus. This scourge also had something called a human version, Hound assuming that a human was the name of the species that all these biologicals seemed to be.

Prowl took intense interest when the topic of how to defeat the Replicators came up. As Chief Tactical Officer of the Ark, it would be up to him to prepare a strategy to combat the rampant machines. While the Replicators were immune to energy weapons, apparently projectile weapons would do the trick. Thankfully, the Ark and its Autobot warriors did have a good supply of projectile weapons, and those currently with energy ones could switch.

The armored humans then showed off one of their projectile weapons. Optimus couldn’t help but be impressed as they explained its functions, though he did note that the size would better suit a Cybertronian than one of these humans. But that awe was quickly broken, when the Warmaster suggested that the ships began orbitally bombarding the planet below.

The Autobot commander was immediately taken a back by this idea. Daniel Jackson had said that there were over a trillion beings living on Coruscant, and with it being a city planet, that meant they were probably tightly packed together. Firing at even one area controlled by the Replicators would cause massive loss of life for the locales.

But before Optimus could object, the human known as Picard did. After rebuffing the ideas of Horus, Picard then suggested that the gathered alliance could try to negotiate with the Replicators as some of them had sentience.

“I agree that negotiations most always be attempted before one declares war,” added Optimus Prime.

But then Daniel Jackson, apparently a different being than the one who brought the Autobots here, jumped in and debunked the notion that the Replicators could be reasoned with as even the human form just existed to consume. While that didn’t technically mean they were evil, it did mean that they were a threat to every reality in existence. Optimus figured that once they consumed Coruscant and the rest of this galaxy, they would just look for a new one to feed on. That universe could easily be the Autobots’ own.

After Carter talked of creating a powerful disruptor, and O’Neill of using teleportation to evacuate the planet, Optimus turned to his Science Officer, Hound.

“Would it be possible to use our space bridge technology to evacuate Coruscant?” Optimus asked.

“Unfortunately no. We could open a portal to the planet below, but it would only be one way from the Ark to the planet,” replied Hound, “We would need some kind of mini space bridge generator to bring down to the planet. But all work on a mini generator was stalled by the evacuation of Cybertron.”

Optimus briefly paused, “And what of this disruptor weapon Carter speaks of?”

“Well, Wheeljack would probably be better suited for that, but I bet if we pool our technology together we could come up with something,” answered Hound.

Optimus then approached the center of the room and began to speak, “I’ll send my best minds to help work on the disruptor. As for evacuating, my ship the Ark could ferry evacuees away. While it is not massive, we should be able to fit several thousand beings if they are the same size as you humans. After all the Ark was built to evacuate beings off a dangerous planet.”

---

---

---

Location: Mandalore

As Christopher, Alex, Lorna, and Carol were led by the royal guard through the city, they couldn’t help but notice the similarities between this world of Mandalore and that of planets in Shi’Ar space. Even though he knew he was in an alternate universe, Christopher could believe that this city was designed under the leadership of the Majestrix of the Shi’Ar Imperium.

After a brief walk, the Starjammers were led to a warehouse nearby some docks. The pirates were then motioned to enter the building by their guard escort. Inside Christopher found a nearly empty warehouse, save more guards and a regal figure at then end of the building. The Captain of the Starjammer could only assume that this was the Duchess that had been mentioned over the comms.

The woman then confirmed that she was the Duchess Satine before welcoming the assembled parties. However, before Christopher could ask any questions, the Duchess asked how it was possible that they had arrived from alternate universes. Only for one group to mention dimensional engineering. Considering he was from a planet that didn’t even have faster than light travel, Christopher was out of his league when it came to knowledge of science. But then the others simplified by saying a powerful being named Daniel brought them.

“Yeah he kind of popped in out of nowhere, asking if we could help save a universe,” added Christopher.

Then one of the more heavily armored people removed their helmet, revealing a good looking red haired woman. Christopher tried not to stare, instead shifting his thoughts over to his beloved Hepzibah. But then the redhead stated that they had been gathered to fight machines attacking Coruscant.

At the mention of the threat to Coruscant, Duchess Satine confirmed that there was talk of a plague on the planet, but that the gathered individuals were far off from the Republic capital. The redhead then asked the most pressing question: Why were we here?

“Yeah, Daniel had said that we were to help with the fight on Coruscant, but we’re here on, Mandalore I think you called it. What’s the deal with that?” asked Carol.

“I don’t know, in all my time as a superhero, I’ve encountered a few ascended beings,” stated Lorna, “And they’re always mysterious, not doing exactly as they said they would.”

“Hold on ladies, maybe the Duchess does have an answer,” said Christopher.

But the Captain of the Starjammer wasn’t entirely sure that Satine could provide an answer. She seemed quite shocked by their arrival, so she could easily be just as in the dark as the dimensional travelers were.