Jedi Council Forums - Writers' Challenge 7 - When galaxies collide (The Cross-over challenge).

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Author	Topic: Writers' Challenge 7 - When galaxies collide (The Cross-over challenge).
CmdrMitthrawnuruodo Registered: Jul '00	Date Posted: 5/5/04 2:56pm Subject: RE: Writers' Challenge 7 - When galaxies collide (The Cross-over challenge).
	Speaking of a Crossover, has anyone read the Indiana Jones/Star Wars one in the Star Wars Tales comic? I think its the latest issue that has it. It has Han Solo on the front and its blueish. I thought it was great. I'll probably do an Indiana Jones/SW one...maybe two and the other being the SG-1/SW one. The plot bunnies are starting to bite me now. -----signature----- "Dyin' be the day worth livin' for!" --Captain Hector Barbossa PotC: Amuletum Angiti http://www.fanfiction.net/s/3635826/1/ http://s12.gladiatus.com/game/c.php?uid=48046
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Mistress_Renata Title: Manager Emeritus Registered: Sep '00	Date Posted: 5/5/04 5:13pm Subject: RE: Writers' Challenge 7 - When galaxies collide (The Cross-over challenge).
	I never played the game, but I knew enough to get the joke, _JM_. Liked the X-files crossover, Durhelediel! Poor Mulder, he never catches a break, does he? -----signature----- "For over a thousand generations, the Jedi Knights were the Guardians of peace and justice in the Old Republic. Before the dark times." Denizen of the Crotchety Old Mods' Home... approach with caution...
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Kynstar Registered: Mar '04	Date Posted: 5/5/04 8:10pm Subject: RE: Writers' Challenge 7 - When galaxies collide (The Cross-over challenge). - Date Edited: 5/5/04 8:16pm (1 edits total) Edited By: Kynstar
	Hehehehe not 100% sure if allowed to post here... but those crossovers have been good! I'm still chuckling over this last one though! Mulder with the Force!! hehehehe batteries died shortly after starting hehehe Now to hear more from these crossovers would be cool! Do drop me a PM if any of you authors decide to write more on your crossovers!! (Edit: minor booboo due to lateness of the hour! Opps hehe) -----signature----- Paddy sis to t_s & SarkaVrae/Master to hyperspace_police Member of Rebel Legion and Jedi Assembly (Kynstar Lans) Only thru fear, hatred, and pain will the true power of the Force be revealed. See stories/viggies in bio
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ZaraValinor Registered: May '02	Date Posted: 5/6/04 4:36pm Subject: RE: Writers' Challenge 7 - When galaxies collide (The Cross-over challenge). - Date Edited: 5/7/04 8:55am (1 edits total) Edited By: ZaraValinor
	I’m taking several liberties with the end of Buffy Season 5 for this one. Dawn was captured and bled, but the Scooby Gang never learned that it was her blood that would stop the dimensional breakdown and Glory never told Dawn. Destiny’s Glory Rupert Giles, Watcher, guide to the Slayer and her cohorts, sworn to protect the world from the underground darkness that the planet Earth harbored unwilling, turned away from the vision of Buffy mounting the precarious scaffolding in great leaps and bounds, making her way to her sister after having beaten Glory to a God-sized pulp, deteriorating the Hellgod enough to let the human form Ben to emerge. Giles did not fault his young charge for focusing her efforts towards getting her little sister off the doddering construct. But he knew he would be forced to do that what she could not, forced to take the life of an innocent to keep the rest of the world safe from the vengeance of an enraged god. He stepped softly towards the coughing mass that had gone from a curvaceous woman with t he power to destroy the world to a young man who had wished for nothing more then to become a doctor. Unconsciously his hand drifted down to the puncture wound that this young man had healed, thus saving Giles’ life. “Can you move?” he asked, hunching down next to the broken body. Gasping for breath, the boy shook his head. “She could have killed me.” “No, no she couldn’t,” the Watcher objected gently. “She’s a hero you see. Eventually, Glory will reemerge and make Buffy and the World pay for that mercy. She even knows that and still she couldn’t take a human life. She’s a hero, she’s different from us,” Giles finished. “Like us?” Ben asked confused. Giles hand shot out to cover the young man’s mouth, his eyes so focused on the hands that weakly clutched at his own, that he missed another sort of panic cross over Ben’s brown eyes. Something shifted underneath his hand, like a jelly mold soundly thumped with a finger. An instant later a hand, much different from the weak one that had been scratching at this own, tore away his hand by the thumb. Something indeed had changed and Giles felt his heart catch in his throat at the sight of the visage of a god. Glory smiled up at him, still covered in blood but not nearly as damaged as Ben had been. “You’re right, sweetcakes, I’m not like the Slay-runt.” It wasn’t even a breath later before he fund that strong hand twisting the fabric of his shirt and a heartbeat after that, that he was flying through the air, his legs clipping the heads of Glory’s henchman. [/hr] Buffy ran with all her might up the stair like scaffolding. Where there were gaps, caused by her and Glory’s grueling fight, she leapt to overhanging pole and swung her body over the chasms. Moments ago, she’d seen Spike plunge from the scaffolding, landing in a large pile of bricks. She knew that his vampiric healing abilities would keep him from being seriously hurt, but his falling was a sign of something terrible. Someone was up there with Dawn, someone strong enough to fling Spike off the scaffolding as though he were a rag doll. And whoever would do that, was most likely after Dawn, which meant they wanted to continue what Buffy had stopped Glory from doing. Which meant opening every dimension, hell and otherwise, that the Powers that Be had set up so many millennia ago. But those dimensional barriers didn’t concern her nearly as much as what this being might do to her sister. Giles had told them that they would need to spill her blood, her life energy, over the last dimensional gateway that had been sealed by the Powers that Be. The text that Spike and Xander had managed to get away from that demon guy had not explained how much blood was going to be needed, but from what her wide range of dealings with demons they were never really on the frugal side. They tended to hold to the more is better philosophy. She reached the top and saw a very grandfatherly looking man with a knife. How deceptive these demons could be. After all, she had never guessed that Angel had been a vampire not even during that first desperate kiss. This demon, however, seemed to betray himself with his eyes, they were reptile like, an inner membrane closing over them before his eyelids did. He gazed at her as though she was nothing more then the girl she appeared to be. The knife was held before him and he advanced towards her with malice intent. Buffy did not even pause as she brushed his attack and him aside. He went over the edge, following Spike’s plunge but without the added edge of vampire immortality. No her intent was on the dark haired girl in front of her. Dawn was chained to the platform, tears smudged her delicate face, and she was clad in a violet gown, one that had been rented twice along the abdomen. Upon seeing that she was safe and whole, Buffy threw her arms around her sister. “Are you okay?” she breathed, thankful that she wouldn’t have to bury her sister so shortly after her mother. “Buffy, I was so scared,” Dawn sobbed. Buffy smoothed her sister’s silky hair. “I know. It’s all right now. I’m here.” But even as she soothed her sister she saw that she had spoken too soon. A large pool of electric light was building just below Dawn and herself, growing larger and larger by the moment. “Oh crap.” [/hr] Luke was drained, emotionally, physically, and spiritually. He had fought for his soul and for the soul of his father and had come off the victor but at a price that he had not expected. His father had died to save his life, leaving him without a guide for the third time in his life. The last Jedi in the entire galaxy, a daunting task to rebuild what had been lost before him, and the only help he had was the occasional appearance of his dead mentor. He looked over at his sister, seated in between Han and Chewie and couldn’t help but feel that he was further from her then when he had first stumbled into her prison cell and had announced that he was here to rescue her. They saw only the celebration of the Rebellion over the Empire, they hadn’t seen the Emperor leaning over them, waiting for the moment to suck the last bit of strength and life out of him, hadn’t heard their own screams echo in the thrown room, begging their father to save them. Those thoughts lead him to the vision of his father, scared and sad, his skin pale from years without sunlight. Luke wondered briefly if Anakin Skywalker had ever sat under the light of twin suns, if he had enjoyed flying through Beggars Canyon at top speed, if his father had been a good mechanic. Luke felt as though he had been robbed. After everything he had gone through to save his father, Anakin had been snatched away from him just as he had begun to see the man behind the mask. He knew he should feel happy that his father was now saved from his mechanical suit, he had seen his father with Ben and Yoda, but a part of him, the boy who had dreamed of his father, felt jilted. “Luke, aren’t you going to eat,” Leia called out to him, he dark eyes showing her concern. It was strange to think that the love he had always carried for her had not changed but had become understood with the knowledge that they were twins. “Come on, kid,” Han said waving him over. “Before Chewie inhales it all.” Chewie growled in indignation. He nodded and gave them a reassuring smile, deciding to retreat from his dark thoughts for the moment. He walked over to the large tree stump that served as their dinner table until the Alliance could gather enough passenger ships to take them all off of Endor. He sat across from Leia and Han, next to Chewie and felt a large hairy hand ruffle his hair. “You starring off into space again, kid?” Han asked offhandedly, but Luke knew him well enough by now to tell that he was as worried as Leia. Luke pointed upwards. “Space is that way Han.” Han snorted and Chewie guffawed loudly. “I was just thinking, you know, it’s been a while since I’ve had time to stop and think.” “It’ll drive you madder then a desert rat, kid,” Han warned. “Just because you don’t spend any time thinking before you speak, doesn’t mean the rest of us don’t,” Leia snapped, pushing at Han’s shoulder. Luke smiled at their banter. One of the few things that hadn’t changed in the whirlwind four years that had taken Luke from farmboy to Jedi Knight. He was about to play peace maker between his sister and the old pirate, when he felt a sharp disturbance in the Force. Not the type that had nearly bowed Ben Kenobi over, but it was strong nonetheless. He stood up from the tree stump, his hand coming to rest on the hilt of his lightsaber. His three companions turned up their heads to scrutinize him. “Luke, what’s wrong?” Leia asked, forgetting her argument with Han instantly. As if to answer her words, a pool of light appeared above them, reminding Luke of a larger version of the Emperors blue lightning. His other companions reacted with the speed and grace of battle veterans. “What the hell?” Han cursed, snatching Leia and placing her behind him. Luke stood mesmerized by it for a moment, before the Force warned him of the close danger. “Look out,” he warned. But it was too late and a second later, a jagged streak of light shot out towards the Jedi Knight, the reformed smuggler, the princess, and the wookie. [/hr] A lance of lightning shot out from the pool of electric water and severed the platform that Dawn and Buffy had been standing on, sending them careening through the air. Buffy grabbed Dawn and cushioned her into her embrace. Dawn screamed high-pitched and if Buffy wasn’t mistaken multitonal. As they fell, she angled herself so that she would take the brunt of the impact away from Dawn. [/hr] The flash of light dimmed from Luke’s eyes and was met by the strangest landscape he had ever seen, and Luke had seen many different planets during his tour with the Alliance. Above them still hung the liquid pool of light, larger then Luke remembered and just below that was a large chunk of building material and two girls, dropping through the air. Without thought, Luke reached out to the Force and flung his hand out in a signature of his using it and caught the two girls in a cushion of the living energy field. [/hr] Buffy had been expecting a hard, spine cracking stop, not to feel as though she had been lifted in feather-light arms. Surprised she turned her gaze, casting it around the area for Willow, thinking maybe the Wicca had found a way to stop their descent, when she saw a group of stranger. Two guys, a girl, and a large fury demon, each dressed in what looked to be outdated military ware. One of the men, with sandy blonde hair, had a hand stretched out towards them and was slowly lowering it. As he did so, she and Dawn lowered to the ground and were gently placed upon it. “You okay?” Buffy asked Dawn again and only received a mute nod. Walking up to the group and the man who had just saved her and her sister from a painful fall, Buffy straightened to make herself taller. “Who the hell are you?” The three strangers behind the blonde guy exchanged glances, but the blonde just smiled warmly. “I’m Luke Skywalker, Jedi Knight.” -----signature----- Proud Master to Meredith_Kenobi & Lolly_Tolly "He full-on Obi-Wan'd me!" Dean Winchester - Supernatural
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VaderLVR64 Title: Manager Emeritus Registered: Feb '04	Date Posted: 5/8/04 8:55am Subject: RE: Writers' Challenge 7 - When galaxies collide (The Cross-over challenge).
	I know I already did one, but this little plot bunny took a chunk out of my leg and so here it is... A Galaxy Far, Far Away Gets a Pie in the Eye Anakin sat in the hotel lobby waiting for Padme. He was bored, completely and totally bored. He glanced over at the young man sitting in the chair nearest to him. The man looked up just as Anakin eyes passed his way. He caught Anakin’s eyes and nodded. Anakin sensed the man looking him up and down. Stretching out with his senses he caught a burst of confusion. It seemed to be centered around Anakin’s clothing. Anakin frowned. What was wrong with his Jedi robes? But looking around at the various occupants of the lobby, he realized that no one was dressed like he was. He tried to remember the name of this planet but couldn’t recall what Padme had told him earlier. He had been thinking of other things, this was their honeymoon after all. Their wedding coordinator had made the arrangements. Perhaps that had been a mistake. He sighed, wondering how long Padme would take. She was inside the beauty spa in the hotel getting the royal treatment. He smirked. Well she is a former queen. An answering sigh came from the young man. “So, are you waiting for someone?” Anakin asked politely. “Yeah, my wife is in there,” the man explained. “Mine, too,” Anakin answered. “We’re on our honeymoon and I’d much rather be up in our room, enjoying our HONEYMOON!” The young man laughed. “We’re on our honeymoon, too!” “Aren’t weddings the worst?” Anakin shuddered. “Oh, they’re terrible! I thought I was going to kill every friend I ever had. And my family? Even worse!” The young man’s grimace mirrored Anakin’s own and the two men laughed together. Anakin held out his hand. “I’m Anakin Skywalker, pleased to meet you.” The young man grasped his hand and shook it. Skywalker? Who did this guy think he was fooling? Oh well, to each his own! “I’m Jim Levenstein. Pleased to meet you, too, Anakin.” “So, how long have you been married?” Anakin asked. “Just two days, but we’ve known each other for years,” Jim replied. Anakin grinned. “Yeah, us too. I met her when I was ten years old.” His grin spread across his face even further. “She was an older woman, very sexy, way out of my reach.” Jim laughed. “I went to school with Michelle. I took her to my senior prom.” Anakin nodded politely even though he had no idea what a “prom” was. He was just trying to pass the time, after all. “When I met Padme she was a queen,” Anakin explained. Jim’s face didn’t reveal the obvious incredulity Anakin sensed coming from him in the Force. Jim also nodded politely; he was only trying to make the time go faster anyway. This guy’s delusions are his own business. “So your wife’s name is Padme?” Jim inquired. “Yes, Padme Skywalker now,” Anakin announced proudly. “Skywalker you say? As in Luke Skywalker?” Jim laughed. “I don’t know anyone named Luke, but it is a very good name, isn’t it? It sounds quite good with Skywalker.” Anakin paused thoughtfully. “I wonder what Padme would think of it if we ever have a son?” Jim laughed loudly. Who did this guy think he was, anyway? And his cloak? Was he some sort of “Jedi” wannabe? A Star Wars geek? Did they even get married? Yeah, I mean the guy did have some resemblance to that Hayden guy, but wasn’t he taking it a little bit far? “Yeah, Luke’s a good name. How about Leia if you have a girl?” Jim prompted, now laughing harder than ever. Anakin thought about it. “Leia Skywalker? Hmmm, I don’t know. I think Padme wanted to name a girl after my mother. Shmi Skywalker has a certain ring to it, don’t you think?” “Shmi Skywalker? Like the woman who was murdered by those evil Tuskens?” Jim joked. “What do you mean murdered? My mother was just fine when we saw her at the wedding a few days ago! What kind of sick freak are you?” Anakin’s voice got louder as he stood up. “Easy there, big fella! It’s just a movie, you know.” Jim shook his head. Some people REALLY got into their sci-fi, didn’t they? “I’m sure your mama is fine there Anakin. Just simmer down, really. Do you want your wife to come out here and see you yelling?” Anakin sat back down. “Not really, she gets kind of upset about that sort of thing. Says I have a bad temper, you know.” Jim nodded once more. “Yeah, you gotta watch those bad tempers. Get you into all sorts of trouble!” He glanced around wondering how long Michelle was going to take, this weirdo was getting to him. “I don’t have a bad temper, not really.” Anakin looked longingly at the spa doors. He wished Padme would get done so that he could get away from this weird young man. Both men breathed a sigh of relief when the spa doors opened. Two smiling young women stepped out. The redhead approached Jim and gave him a kiss on the cheek. The petite brunette rushed up to Anakin and threw herself into his arms. Both women whispered something in their new husbands’ ears. Both men grinned and led their wives away from the lobby and up to their rooms. Nice guy, but weird. Way weird! -----signature----- R.I.P John, Alex, Jason, and Christian Never forgotten Soldiers' Angels http://soldiersangels.org/ 2114 soldiers waiting for someone to care
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solojones Registered: Sep '00	Date Posted: 5/8/04 9:03am Subject: RE: Writers' Challenge 7 - When galaxies collide (The Cross-over challenge).
	Speaking of a Crossover, has anyone read the Indiana Jones/Star Wars one in the Star Wars Tales comic? I think its the latest issue that has it. It has Han Solo on the front and its blueish. I thought it was great. I had no idea there was one of those! I wrote two Indy/SW crossovers on the boards back in... gosh, something like 2001-2003 If you do one, I'll definitely be interested to read it. That was loads of fun I'm not sure if I have any other good ideas for crossovers, though. That seemed to be the only one I could make seem 'plausible' to me. And I mean, Han and Indy? Too much fun -sj loves kevin spacey -----signature----- 6 x 9 = 42 Proud member of the Colbert Nation My short films: http://www.youtube.com/solojones1138
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JediNemesis Registered: Mar '03	Date Posted: 5/8/04 9:34am Subject: RE: Writers' Challenge 7 - When galaxies collide (The Cross-over challenge).
	Hehe, great going so far, people. I'm desperately trying to get my Star Wars/X-Men cross into postable form. I never thought it'd be so difficult. Nem -----signature----- BeTS Best Author '08 NEW Bad Dreams - http://boards.theforce.net/a/b1/29893091 Eleven Summers - http://boards.theforce.net/a/b1/29657584 Into The Shining Day - http://boards.theforce.net/a/b1/29224914
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Tekli_theInsane Registered: Mar '04	Date Posted: 5/8/04 3:41pm Subject: RE: Writers' Challenge 7 - When galaxies collide (The Cross-over challenge).
	Wow, all of the ones I've read so far are great! VaderLVR, what fandom did your second one cross over in to? It was quite hilarious, though. I don't know most of the fandoms here, but the stories are wonderful. I'd like to try a Hitchhiker/Star Wars crossover. Perhaps when they first get on the Heart of Gold... they could be warped here... yeah... It's hard to make crossovers work. I'm in awe of everyone who's done it so far in this thread. -----signature----- "Science without religion is lame, religion without science is blind." ~Albert Einstein www.fanfiction.net/~tekli The Once and Future Fangirl--BRING ON THE ANGST Iiiiit's cheese, it's cheese, it's cheese that makes the world go round... oro...
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LukesTheMan Registered: Apr '04	Date Posted: 5/8/04 3:50pm Subject: RE: Writers' Challenge 7 - When galaxies collide (The Cross-over challenge).
	Star Wars and American Pie? I think that can get you executed can't it? LOL! Loved it, irreverent but hilarious! ALL of these have been so good! -----signature----- Of Metal and Flesh http://boards.theforce.net/The_Saga/b10476/19859245 Empty Vessel http://boards.theforce.net/The_Saga/b10476/19744934 Proud Master to Annika_Skywalker
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Drabbo_Fett Registered: Feb '03	Date Posted: 5/9/04 12:41pm Subject: RE: Writers' Challenge 7 - When galaxies collide (The Cross-over challenge).
	Shortly after the challenge got posted, this idea came to me, and I've decided to write it like the first episode of a Dark Shadows storyline. With that in mind, don't think of the SW element as an alternate universe but as a band of parallel time -- a PT PT! -- in which the characters are played by DS actors circa 1971 and the effects are a lot cheaper. I do have ideas of where things would go from here (hence the title) and even who'd play the various SW characters, but I don't know if I'll continue. [I'm not fishing for feedback; I just haven't decided.] Dark Shadows: The Fall of the Order Barnabas Collins leaned out the attic window and watched Professor T. Elliot Stokes walk carefully across the sloping roof. For a brief moment, he let himself be distracted by the feeling of sunlight on his face; it had only been a few weeks since Dr. Julia Hoffman had cured his horrible curse yet again. "Are you sure," the professor asked, "that I am standing directly over the doorway?" "Yes. And you can't sense anything?" Stokes knelt down and tapped the shingles. "Not a blessed thing. Can you, Julia?" "No," she replied. Stokes let Barnabas help him back inside. "Fascinating, since at that moment, we seemed to be standing in the exact same place." The two men walked over to the spot directly beneath where Eliot had stood moments before. Above their heads, the ceiling was interrupted by a wide hole. Contrary to expectations, however, they could not see the sky through it. Instead, there was a rising narrow staircase that ended at a metal door. Julia sat on the second step, waiting. "Well, it's obvious," the professor said, "that these stairs do not occupy the same Euclidean space as the roof, which feels as solid right here as it does anywhere else." He set the stepladder under the hole, and the two men helped Julia down. "The real question," Barnabas said, "is where does it lead? What's beyond that door?" Elliot nodded. "There's only one way to find out." * * * Julia could see Barnabas standing on the small landing in front of the silvery door. "There's no handle," he called down to her. "Just some buttons off to the side." "How many?" she asked. "Three, a red on top, and two blue beneath it." Julia looked at Elliot, who paced beside her. "Try pressing the red one," he suggested. Julia saw light stream through as the door slid up. "Can you see where you are?" "More to the point," Stokes added, "when?" "There's a hallway up here," Barnabas told them. "The far wall is all glass. Julia, you have to see..." The moment he stepped through the door, it closed behind him, and Julia didn't hear the end of the sentence. * * * "...This!" Barnabas finished as he watched the vehicle pass by the windows. It was some sort of flying craft, but it was nothing like any plane he'd ever seen. It was small, like a car, but it flew past and disappeared from view. He stepped right up to the glass and looked out. The city, which dwarfed even New York, was far below. It extended all the way to a distant mountain range, and he thought he could see dozens, perhaps hundreds, more flying cars just like the one that had passed. "This definitely isn't Collinwood," he said. "Julia!" He turned around, but the door was closed, and there were no controls on this side of it. "Julia! Elliot!" he yelled as he tried to find some way to pry it back open. After several minutes, he gave up; the door was flush with the wall, and he couldn't find anywhere to grab. In fact, he realized, if he hadn't just come through it, he doubted he would recognize there was a door there at all. Or maybe -- and this thought worried him most of all -- there really wasn't one there anymore. He started walking along the corridor, which soon curved away so that the door was lost to view. He had been walking for a few minutes when he heard someone speaking in a room down the hall. "Anakin, we can't do this, not here!" For a second, Barnabas was sure he recognized that voice. "Maggie?" he whispered. No, he told himself, it wouldn't be, but he had to find for himself. He tiptoed closer to the door. "If Obi-Wan caught us, you could be removed from the Jedi Order," she continued. "I don't care," a man said. "I love you, Padme! I want the universe to know!" Barnabas risked a look. A woman stood by the window, staring out. Her hair was pulled back in a long braid that was almost as elaborate as her velvety gown. A young man wearing plain brown robes stood behind her, the frustration obvious in his frown. "I love you, too, but I can't take you from your calling. It wouldn't be right." She spun back around, her dress barely twirling. Barnabas was caught by how much she resembled Maggie Evans and, by extension, his beloved Josette. But no, this young woman radiated authority; she looked positively regal, and it wasn't just the dress. "And," she continued, stepping closer to the lad Barnabas presumed was Anakin, "it's not fair of you to put that pressure on me." There was genuine pain in her eyes, but Anakin didn't seem to notice. "My apologies, Senator," he retorted, the last word dripping with suppressed anger. Without waiting for her to respond, he stormed out of the room. Barnabas managed to hide in an alcove just before Anakin reached the hallway, and the angry youth walked right past him, his attention on a bowl of fruit down the hall. Without breaking stride, Anakin reached out toward it, even though it was well beyond his reach. Suddenly, one of the fruits seemed to leap from the bowl and fly into his waiting palm. Anakin took one bite, then squeezed the rest of the fruit in his hand before dropping the pulpy mess back into the bowl as he passed it. Then he turned at an intersection and was gone. Barnabas waited for a long moment before emerging. He looked back in the room, but Padme had left through another door. * * * When Barnabas returned to where he'd entered this strange realm, he found Julia there desperately trying to squeeze her fingers under where the door had been. "It's no use," she muttered, tears streaming down her cheeks. "I couldn't get it open either," he told her. She stood up and hugged him tightly, crying into his shoulder. "Oh, Barnabas, have you seen where we are?" "I have," he said, uncertain about the strength of her reaction, "the future. It has to be." "No," she shouted. "You don't get it! We're not on Earth anymore! The people here..." He held her away from him so he could lean forward and look her in the eye. "I've seen the people here," he said. "They're human, the same as you or me." "No, they're not. They're horrible ugly-looking aliens!" Barnabas tried a different approach. "Tell me what happened." Julia calmed down enough to explain. "When you didn't return, we got worried. Elliot said he had to go back to his house for some equipment and told me to wait for him to return." "You didn't do that, did you?" he asked. "Barnabas, I was worried about you! So I came up the stairs and opened the door just like you did. The moment I stepped through, though, it closed, and I couldn't get it open! I was still looking for the controls when the creature came. It was the most hideous thing I've ever seen!" She tried miming a description for Barnabas, but he didn't really understand. "What did you do?" "I screamed, and I guess it ran off." She let herself chuckle. "I guess it was as scared of me as I was of it." "Probably, but it may return," Barnabas said, "and with company. We should go." They didn't get far before they heard someone coming. "No, really, Master Obi-Wan," a high-pitched voice said, "meesa seen her right around here!" The creature that came around the bend was as hideous as Julia had described. It had leathery skin, a long face, and large drooping ears. Otherwise, it looked mostly human, though it walked with an odd gait. With him walked a human man in a robe much like Anakin's. He had long dark hair and a short beard, but for a moment, Barnabas thought he recognized him anyway. "It's Quentin!" Julia whispered. "No," he said, "no, it's not." The man's voice was cultured and his tone even, but there was no mistaking the power behind it. ""What," he asked, "are you two doing here?" -----signature----- Drabbo's Challenges: http://boards.theforce.net/message.asp?topic=18433066 Author of... Fett's Drabbles: http://boards.theforce.net/The_Saga/b10476/12078387 ...and more!
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Vampi_Digitalwytch Registered: Apr '04	Date Posted: 5/9/04 1:38pm Subject: RE: Writers' Challenge 7 - When galaxies collide (The Cross-over challenge).
	Whoa..never thought I'd see Dark Shadows mixed with Star Wars. I loved both old and new series with that with the new Barnabas and the old Quentin as my faves. Very nice work done with the character similarities and keeping perfectly in like with how often it happened with the time periods in the show. -----signature----- I'd rather laugh with the sinners than cry with the saints. Bloopers RR- http://boards.theforce.net/message.asp?topic=15762005&start=15774240 Supporting the fight for the survival of fanfic.
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Drabbo_Fett Registered: Feb '03	Date Posted: 5/10/04 8:32pm Subject: RE: Writers' Challenge 7 - When galaxies collide (The Cross-over challenge).
	Thanks, though I did realize after posting that I'd completely forgotten to include a "The great house at Collinwood" opening narration. Oh well, if I continue, I'll be sure to add them, especially since at some point, the start would change from "Somewhere in time and space" to "A long time ago in a galaxy far, far away." -----signature----- Drabbo's Challenges: http://boards.theforce.net/message.asp?topic=18433066 Author of... Fett's Drabbles: http://boards.theforce.net/The_Saga/b10476/12078387 ...and more!
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Mistress_Renata Title: Manager Emeritus Registered: Sep '00	Date Posted: 5/11/04 7:48pm Subject: RE: Writers' Challenge 7 - When galaxies collide (The Cross-over challenge).
	I'm sorry I fell so behind! These are great! I especially liked the American Pie one... could just envision it happening. -----signature----- "For over a thousand generations, the Jedi Knights were the Guardians of peace and justice in the Old Republic. Before the dark times." Denizen of the Crotchety Old Mods' Home... approach with caution...
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JediNemesis Registered: Mar '03	Date Posted: 5/12/04 9:04am Subject: RE: Writers' Challenge 7 - When galaxies collide (The Cross-over challenge).
	This is really, stupidly long for one post, but what the hell. Star Wars Episode X Outside the jet, the thunderstorm grew steadily worse. Inside - “Storm!” “I’m trying!” The speaker was a tall young woman whose bone-white hair contrasted unsettlingly with skin the colour of milky coffee. She shook her head to dislodge an errant spray of white strands from her face, giving the one who had called her name a venomous look. “If it were a normal storm, I could. But it feels . . . strange. As if someone else were controlling it.” Her co-pilot shook his head disparagingly, the red-tinted visor across his eyes catching the light. “No way. You’re the only one -” “We ain’t always one of a kind, kid.” Cyclops twisted in his seat and looked wearily over at Wolverine, where the older man lounged in the seat behind. He was about to speak when the head of the group, Charles Xavier - also known as Professor X - silenced him with a wave of a hand. “Logan is right, Scott. Not all mutants are unique.” Cyclops scowled, managing to convey extreme exasperation despite the lack of eye contact. “There’s still no one out there who could control a storm this big. You’d have found them by now.” “Not necessarily.” Xavier admonished gently. “Neither Cerebro nor I are perfect, and the world is a large place. Even a high talent can go unnoticed for a long time. And - “ He raised a hand, again silencing the visored mutant - “- the person controlling this need not have the same powers as Storm. A large-scale manipulation of the local gravomagnetic field would disrupt weather patterns, and could well have the same effect.” Storm spoke without taking her hands off the controls. “Magneto isn’t that powerful.” “If he was, we’d have known about it a long time ago.” was Cyclops’ muttered addition. “Scott, Storm, please.” The Professor sighed deeply, and gestured silently towards the back half of the jet. In the back row of seats, the girl they all called Rogue, Bobby, who preferred to be called Iceman, and the latest addition to the team, the blue-skinned Kurt Wagner alias Nightcrawler, were all peacefully asleep. “Whatever is controlling the storm, it’s clear we can do little about it. There is no need to raise your voices.” The two piloting the craft both nodded, Storm contrite, Cyclops with a certain degree of ill grace. Silence reigned in the cockpit for what seemed like an eternity but could not have been more than a few minutes. There was a crack outside, something like a crack of thunder but louder still, and it had not been preceded by lightning. The jet bucked, and a shrill beeping accompanied the flare of red lights across the dashboard. “What the -” Wolverine began, before he was cut off in mid-sentence by Storm’s silently pointing out the windscreen. A massive line of light had appeared in the sky, too bright to look at directly, that squirmed and writhed like a living thing. It widened as they watched, a crack in the air that seemed to be ripping the sky apart. There was a click and scrape as Wolverine disengaged himself from his seat and moved forward to lean over between the pilots and look out. The patch of eye-hurtingly bright light flexed and widened still further, the clouds billowing around it. There was a fizz and a crackle, and the main displays snapped first into lines of snow, then into blackness. The warning lights followed moments later. Cyclops stared at the darkened dashboard in horror. Wolverine hit the back of the pilot’s seat in frustration, muttering curses under his breath as the jet nose-dived. The windscreen was filled with blinding white light as the impossible rip in space shifted, moving to a point where it was all but inevitable they would hit it. Xavier looked ahead, at the silhouettes of the three younger team members picked out in black against the blaze of light outside. At least, two of them were younger; he had no idea how old Logan - or Wolverine as he preferred to be known - actually was. No more did Wolverine himself. There was a screaming sound, almost so high as to be inaudible, that reminded Xavier of the unearthly shriek that accompanied a concentrated mental attack, like the one Jason Stryker had forced him to inflict on first the world’s mutant population and then the rest of humanity. He winced at the memory, saddened both by the recollection of Jason, his death, and by the memory of the far greater loss that had followed it. He heard Storm scream and Cyclops and Wolverine swear practically in unison, before there was another crack and a flash, and the world around him - physical and mental - darkened to black. - - - In the Rebel stronghold of Echo Base on Hoth, all was quiet. Luke snapped awake on his bunk, staring at the ceiling as he tried to comprehend what he had just felt. It had felt altogether to be an ordinary dream, but . . . some kind of vision? Maybe not altogether beyond the bounds of possibility. He had seen something snap into existence, appearing out of thin air high above the snowy surface of Hoth to plummet downward as if out of control. It had looked like a ship, some kind of atmospheric craft, but unlike any ship he’d ever seen or heard of. He sat up and looked sleepily around for the glowing screen of his chrono. Three in the morning. Luke groaned. He’d had barely three hours of sleep, he wasn’t about to get up now. Whatever had happened, it could wait until the morning. - - - Wolverine felt the darkness receding, and knew he was waking up. He opened his eyes, and found himself looking at the mercifully familiar ceiling of the jet. It was gloomy inside; the craft was still, and there was no sign inside or outside of the eerie light they had flown into. He picked himself up off the floor, wincing as the memory came back to him of the plane jerking and twisting uncontrollably and throwing him backwards, to collide painfully hard with the seat he had occupied before getting up. There was the remains of a headache, but any injuries the metal anchorage of the seat had done him had healed themselves while he was unconscious. Glancing down, he grinned ruefully to himself as he saw the dent in the seat’s base. He looked up again sharply when a small relieved voice sounded from the corner. “You’re awake!” Wolverine had to catch at the top of the seat beside him for balance as Rogue collapsed against his chest, sobbing with relief. She looked up at him a moment later, blushing. “Sorry . . . but I tried to wake them, and you, and nothing worked . . . I thought you were all dead.” “I don’t kill easily.” He waited for her to let go of him before stepping away, looking around the cockpit at the unconscious forms of the others. The Professor had fallen sideways, but was uninjured . . . Nightcrawler and Rogue’s boyfriend Iceman were half-sitting, half-lying on the floor at the back of the plane, out cold, but again seemingly unhurt. Storm and Cyclops . . . Storm and Cyclops were both slumped against the dashboard. There was a long narrow trickle of blood across the metal. Wolverine swore to himself and reached over the back of the right-hand pilot’s chair, taking Cyclops’ shoulder and hauling him more-or-less upright. There was a deep cut on his temple just above the visor, but the mechanism itself was undamaged. Reassured, Wolverine shook the pilot none too gently. “Scott?” The visored mutant groaned and stirred, finally raising one hand to feel across his face, as if to reassure himself that the protective visor was still in place. “What the . . . what happened?” “I don’t know.” Wolverine told him grimly. “Whatever it was, it knocked all of us out. Help me wake the others.” Cyclops nodded weakly and scrambled out of the pilot’s chair, going over to Storm. Wolverine left him to it and headed for the rear of the plane. Rogue succeeded in waking Nightcrawler as he reached her, the blue mutant’s eyes flickering open as their owner pushed himself into a sitting position. “Light . . . ze light . . . Are ve dead?” “No.” Rogue told him gently. “We’re alive, but I don’t know what just happened. Help me wake Bobby.” Wolverine saw she had all the help she needed in Nightcrawler and turned his attention to the Professor. Charles Xavier had slumped in his seat and was breathing lightly, seemingly less unconscious than in a trance. Wolverine hesitated a moment, before waving one hand in front of the telepath’s face. The man’s eyes snapped open at once, and Wolverine jerked back in surprise. When the Professor spoke, his voice was unsurprised. “Logan?” “Me.” Wolverine took a deep breath, trying to calm down. “What the hell just happened?” “Good question.” said Cyclops from behind him. Wolverine heard the rustle of clothing as the other mutants joined them, and the soft flick-flick noise as Nightcrawler nervously twitched his tail. The Professor looked pensive, drumming his fingers on the arm of his seat. “I have to say I don’t know for sure. But I felt a great disturbance, as though some fundamental force of nature was being subdued by a force still greater . . . but what, I have no idea.” The silence stretched out excruciatingly until it was interrupted by a rising hum. Wolverine blinked as the cockpit lights sputtered back into life, followed by the dashboard displays. Cyclops slid back into his seat in a flash, scanning the lights and screens with a practised eye. “Power’s back. Nothing seems to be too badly damaged . . . no, actually, GPS is down.” He tapped the one blank screen, face troubled. “I don’t understand. It should work anywhere within satellite range.” Wolverine bit back the sarcastic response that had first come to mind and substituted “What’s it like outside?” Cyclops pointed to the windscreen. Snowy landscape, tinted deep grey-blue by shadow, stretched as far as the eye could see, broken only in the far distance by a low rocky range of hills. “Cold, I should think.” “We need to have a look out there.” Storm said, businesslike. “But it probably wouldn’t be a good idea for all of us to leave the plane. Kurt?” Nightcrawler swished his tail apprehensively. “I am not sure . . . who knows vere ve are? But yes, I vill go.” Wolverine blinked as the blue mutant vanished with what sounded like a quiet explosion, leaving only wreaths of navy blue in the air. The blue mist had barely cleared when there was another sound of air impacting air, and the German teleporter reappeared, shivering, and caught at Storm for support. When he had recovered enough to speak, he said “Yes. It is cold out zere, very cold . . . Nozing to see. Only snow.” Wolverine looked at the Professor, then out the windscreen at the snowscape outside. “I’m going out. The uniform’ll keep out the cold.” Cyclops started to speak, but was shushed by the Professor. “Very well, Logan. Be careful.” Wolverine nodded perfunctorily and made for the exit. The door slid open, allowing a few flakes of snow to swirl in on the wind and settle on the floor. The mutant looked at them for a moment before stepping out of the plane and letting the door close behind him. ‘Only snow’ had been an accurate assessment on Nightcrawler’s part. There was nothing else to be seen from horizon to horizon. Wolverine shivered, recalling Alkali Lake. At least there there had been a smallish forest and some variation in the landscape. Here it was just snow, flat and level as far as the eye could see. Having scanned the horizon all the way round and found nothing of interest, Wolverine looked up. The stars hung in a black sky, bright and clear, and the patterns they sparkled in were completely unfamiliar. When he got back inside the plane, the Professor gave him a curious look. “Something wrong?” “The stars.” Wolverine said shortly. “I know what the night sky’s supposed to look like, and that ain’t it. And the Milky Way’s in the wrong place.” Professor X drew a long breath and murmured “Yes . . . that would explain it.” “Explain what?” demanded Iceman from behind Wolverine. “What happened.” said the Professor simply. “The severe gravomagnetic disturbances causing the thunderstorm we ran into could also conceivably have created a locus of dimensional instability - a point where space and time are no longer entirely separate. And we would appear to have flown through it.” He looked around, his gaze settling on Wolverine. “The spatial transition would explain the Milky Way being in the wrong place. If it is the Milky Way, which I doubt.” Cyclops gave him a look of pure disbelief. “We’re in a different galaxy?” The Professor nodded. “Quite possibly a different time period as well. And yet we landed on a world where we can breathe the air and cope with the gravity . . . All I can say is, we’ve been extraordinarily lucky.” Wolverine subsided onto the arm of the nearest seat, looking quizzically at the Professor. “Hell, yeah.” “I’m serious.” The Professor’s tone was sombre, and Wolverine looked at him with something between scepticism and horror. A different galaxy? “I know, Logan, it seems rather incredible. So it is. But it would seem the only reasonable explanation.” “Reasonable?” was Cyclops’ sharp response. “Professor, I don’t like to argue, but it’s . . . it’s impossible.” “Very few things are impossible.” Xavier said quietly. “Even fifty years ago your own ability to generate a laser beam using your eyes alone would have been considered impossible. Now, even though the gene responsible for the mutation has been identified and traced, many people still consider such gifts as you or I or any of us possess to be impossible.” He glanced around at the other mutants, all of whom seemed reluctant to speak. “Scott?” “I get the idea.” Cyclops muttered. Wolverine grimaced. Inwardly he agreed with the younger man, and the idea that the eerie rip in the sky had somehow transplanted them to a different galaxy was hard to swallow. He had to be dreaming . . . no. He rarely dreamt, and when he did the dreams were closer to nightmares, sickly pain-wracked memories of the ghastly procedure that had given him his indestructible skeleton and taken his former self, leaving only isolated shreds behind. From what little he had learnt since, it had probably been a fair exchange, but that thought made the dreams no easier to bear. This was surreal, to be sure, but he wasn’t dreaming . . .The only other option seemed to be that the Professor was right. Another galaxy; another time. Wolverine drummed the armrest of the seat in frustration, aching for a cigar. Okay, the habit would probably do him in one day, even allowing for his ability to regenerate damaged body tissue, and the Professor had on more than one occasion threatened him with horrible fates if he didn’t quit smoking them in Cerebro, but there were some times when he really needed one. Like now. His train of thought wavered to a halt as Rogue edged past him, and he leant back to let her pass. She hesitated, then spoke. “So is it . . . is there anyone here?” “It’s always possible.” said the Professor quietly. “We’ll just have to hope there is.” - - - The following morning, Han Solo was relaxing for the first time in almost a week when the knock at the door came. He didn’t bother to get up and answer it, too glad of the chance to lie down. Six days straight of all but rebuilding the Falcon after the snow had short-circuited the main feedback coupling, and what with boundary patrols and general other work he hadn’t had a decent sleep in forever. He was mildly irritated when the door opened anyway. He raised his head a few inches off the pillow to see Luke Skywalker looking even more of a mess than usual, and behind him, Princess Leia. The smuggler hastily got to his feet, thanking all the gods he could remember that he’d kept his shirt on. “Luke. Your Worshipfulness.” With the time to examine the two more closely, he noted their expressions with a sinking feeling - the princess’ sceptical, Luke’s excitement barely controlled. He sighed. “What’s up now? The Falcon hasn’t copped out again, has she?” Luke shook his head dismissively. He looked short of breath, as though he’d run the distance between wherever he’d been and Han’s quarters. “No, nothing like that. What’s happened is -” The princess sighed and folded her arms. “To cut a very long story short, Luke had some kind of a feeling that something very strange was happening nearby, and that a ship was coming down more or less from nowhere. The scan team have confirmed that it’s there and it’s not an Imperial ship.” Han looked at her, eyebrows raised, then at Luke. The younger man grinned bashfully. “I felt it. Trust me.” Leia looked at him pityingly and continued. “He got permission to go out and investigate. I personally think that two of us would be quite enough, but Luke insisted we invite you along. Feel free not to bother.” She stepped back a pace, clearly not happy with the situation. Han felt curiosity rearing its head, something that didn’t happen too often. “How strange, kid?” Luke looked at him, expression suddenly sombre. “It came out of nowhere. I mean that. One minute nothing, next minute a good-sized atmospheric craft. I don’t understand. That’s why I want to go and have a look.” The smuggler regarded him with interest, the tiredness falling away as the adrenalin rush of a new crazy exploit in the offing began to assert itself. “You’re going out, are you? How, snowspeeders?” Luke shook his head ruefully. “No. There aren’t enough ready to spare two for us. It’ll have to be tauntauns.” Han groaned. “Not those blasted furry lizards again.” “It’s either that or stay here,” put in the princess from beside the door. “And make it quick. We need to go now if we want to be back before dark.” “Count me in.” Han grinned as he caught sight of the princess’ horror-stricken visage. “I wouldn’t miss it for worlds.” - - - Wolverine opened first one eye, then both, as he heard the hiss of the jet’s door sliding open and closed and the scraping sound of someone clearing the snow off their boots. Sitting up, he saw Rogue sitting shivering on the floor, and Bobby - as he would always think of Iceman - bending to help her upright. A moment later he had done so, and had supported her as far as the nearest seat before stopping to shake the snow deposit off his own boots. Wolverine watched him, conscious of the closeness the two younger mutants enjoyed. “You’re back soon, kid.” “It’s a refrigerator out there.” Bobby replied ruefully. He took the seat next to Rogue as Wolverine stood, stretched and relaxed, before giving the younger man a quizzical look. “I thought you were immune to cold.” “She’s not.” Bobby nodded to Rogue, who was still shivering. She smiled wanly at him, and he returned the smile. Wolverine nodded appraisingly. That was Bobby all right - a nice kid, on occasion too nice for his own good. Or perhaps he, Wolverine, was just cynical. Probably the latter. “Here. I found the rations.” Bobby caught the cereal bar Wolverine threw him without looking at it and absent-mindedly began to peel away the wrapper. The big mutant watched him, noting the drawn look of the younger man’s face and the hands that were almost too steady. The voice, reflective and quiet, fitted with the rest of the demeanour. “Do you think we’ll die here?” The question took Wolverine off guard, and he was reduced to giving Bobby a sharp, albeit disconcerted, look and a shrug before the words eventually came. “I don’t know, kid.” The boy who could conjure ice shrugged noncommittally, continuing to peel the cereal bar’s wrapper off strand by plastic strand. “It just doesn’t look too good. I mean, if the Professor’s right, and we’re in a different galaxy -” “He’s usually right.” interrupted Rogue. “Sorry, Bobby, go on.” “If we’re in a different galaxy, then we’re a couple of million years’ travel away from home.” was the sombre continuation. “If we had a proper spacecraft, which we don’t. So how are we going to get back?” Wolverine shrugged, blunt as always. “I don’t know. If that thing we flew through doesn’t come back, chances are we’re stuck here. I can’t say I like the idea, but face it, kid, there’s not much we can do.” Bobby looked up at him, face pale. “So -” “Don’t say it.” Rogue broke in. “Please, don’t. Think of it this way . . . we all survived Alkali Lake. Maybe not by much, but we did. All that’s happened so far here is that the jet’s crashed - ” “- and it’s not like that’s never happened before.” Wolverine finished. He shrugged, wishing he shared Rogue’s optimism. He personally found it a lot harder to believe that they’d make it out of this snowy wasteland alive, but then he had the cynicism born of seeing too much. They were interrupted by the familiar soft sound of air on air as Nightcrawler materialized in their midst, supporting the Professor. The German mutant had borrowed Wolverine’s uniform to leave the plane, and the tough, functional design contrasted oddly with the sinuous markings on his blue skin. He helped the Professor into the nearest seat, and blew on his fingers to warm them, teeth chattering. Wolverine had started at his abrupt appearance, but recovered his composure quickly. “Well?” Nightcrawler nodded, shivering. “Ja. Zere is somzing out zere.” “People?” Wolverine asked sharply. Again the blue mutant nodded. The Professor spoke when the other mutant did not, sounding tired. “Yes, Logan; people. Three humans, as far as I can determine, riding some kind of domesticated animal.” Wolverine didn’t have a chance to reply; Bobby got there first, his voice incredulous. “Humans? We’re in a different galaxy, right?” “That is what I thought.” the Professor replied calmly. “It’s equally possible that this is the same galaxy, but in a parallel set of dimensions, where history was very different. Either way, the result is the same. We are here, and we would appear to have been noticed.” Wolverine stretched, suddenly cold in the thin shirt and trousers he had been wearing under the uniform. “Kurt?” Nightcrawler looked up from where he had been murmuring quietly to himself in German, and Wolverine saw the glint of rosary beads in his hand. “Ja?” “The uniform.” The blue mutant nodded and divested himself of the borrowed outfit, returning it to Wolverine, who pulled it on and headed for the plane’s low door. He stopped and turned when he heard the Professor call him. “Logan?” “Yeah?” He leant against the door’s frame, wanting desperately to get outside and resenting every moment that the Professor kept him in. But he knew it would probably be a good idea to listen to what Xavier had to say - it usually was - and so he stayed. There was a wry smile on the Professor’s face as he spoke, as if he had read Wolverine’s mind. Actually, now Wolverine thought of it, he probably had. “Keep your claws to yourself.” Wolverine sighed and left the plane. - - - Han reined in his tauntaun as he topped a low snow ridge and waited for the other two to catch up with him. From the sound of it, Luke was getting increasingly exasperated with his mount, which appeared to be interested only in wandering off and finding something to eat; Leia, he suspected, was having an equally hard time of it, but had sat tight and been resolutely silent through the entire duration of the journey. Luke forced his tauntaun to a stop beside Han and used one muffled hand to push up his snow goggles for a better look. “That’s it.” Ahead of them was a transport. It was as Luke had suspected, a good-sized atmospheric craft: not a single-person ship by any means, but not so large as to be unwieldy, sleek and streamlined. It was black and carried no markings, and aside from being generally the right shape, its design was unfamiliar. There was a flurry of snow as Leia pulled her bucking tauntaun to a halt beside them; Han reached down with one hand and grabbed its bridle until it quietened. Leia gave him a dirty look, and muttered “Thanks, Solo,” under her breath, which he supposed would be the best he would get. They paused on the ridge a few moments, glad of the opportunity to get their breath back. Suddenly Luke pointed, nearly falling off his tauntaun as the sudden movement made it buck. “Look . . . people.” True enough, there were black figures, humanoid, picked out against the snow as soon as they left the shadow of their craft. Han saw one turn and point, and heard far-off words, and then one of the figures that appeared to be supporting another one abruptly vanished, taking the one it had supported with it and leaving only a swirling wreath of blue-black smoke. Han felt his jaw drop, and guessed from the gasps of disbelief beside him that Luke and Leia had reacted similarly. No weapon he had ever heard of could achieve that kind of instant vaporization, let alone silently. He just hoped they were friendly. Sure, the scan had shown that the craft carried no Imperial radiation signature, but there were plenty of other factions who didn’t like the Alliance. And that was before you included the fact that the ship’d fallen out of thin air. Whoever the mysterious figures were, they had access to something very powerful and very, very dangerous. At last Luke broke the silence. “Did you see that? It -” “Yeah. I saw it.” said Han grimly. “What now?” The princess gave him an icy look. “We should leave, and come back with better weapons. We don’t know what we’re dealing with.” “No dice.” Han said flatly. “They’ve seen us. If we leave now, well, we’re turning our backs on them. And -” “They’re friendly.” interrupted Luke. He nodded towards the figures, of whom there were now clearly two standing some distance in front of the craft, and picked up his tauntaun’s reins. “Trust me.” Han looked at him, sceptical. The younger man returned his gaze steadily and repeated, “Trust me.” Han shrugged. “If you’re sure, kid.” “I’m sure.” Luke jammed his snow goggles back down and kicked his tauntaun in the side. The ungainly creature gave a groaning growl and bounced forward. Han gritted his teeth and set his own mount moving. It set off at a gallop, its ridiculous up-and-down gait making the sliver of scenery visible through his goggles leap around uncontrollably. - - - Wolverine joined Storm and Cyclops outside the jet and shaded his eyes with one hand, surprised at the intensity of the sunlight’s glare off the snow. Storm nodded to him and pointed silently, indicating the three bouncing shapes that were approaching with appreciable speed. “Three of them.” she said in a low voice. “Humans, but riding some kind of - well, from here they look like -” “Dinosaurs with fur?” Wolverine suggested. The animals in question were large and whitish-bluish-grey, and moved with a bounding motion that he winced to imagine. Riding one of those things would be painful. Storm nodded, still serious. “Cyclops thinks it’s two men and a woman. We’ll just have to wait and see.” Just then the visored mutant walked to join them, acknowledging Wolverine with a nod. “No weapons I can see, but that’s no guarantee they haven’t got them.” “Even if they have weapons, at least they’re not using them.” Storm pointed out. She shaded her eyes with one hand and looked off in the direction of the riders; Wolverine followed her gaze and watched two of the riders dismount, fairly clumsily, before one of them gave the third a hand down. - - - Han walked towards the craft with Luke and Leia on either side of him, too busy keeping his balance on the treacherous snow to hold his blaster, but conscious of and grateful for its familiar weight at his side. As they approached the craft, he could see that three figures now waited for them: all recognizably human, surprisingly enough, and all clad in what looked like full-length black flightsuits of some kind. Two were men, one a woman; she sported hair that matched the snow, contrasting oddly with dark skin. The more lightly built of the other two wore what looked to Han like an imaging visor, only slimmer and minus the bulky battery unit. The third of the trio stood at least half a handspan taller than Han himself, and exuded a kind of rough charisma Han had encountered before, countless times among other smugglers. Probably - no, make that definitely - the one to watch out for. By unspoken consent, the three Rebels stopped a few metres from the three strangers. Han reached up with one gloved hand to pull away the snow goggles, and felt for his blaster. He was forestalled by Luke, who put his hand on Han’s arm and pressed gently but determinedly. “Don’t bother.” Luke whispered, before hitching off his own mask and saying clearly “It’s alright. We don’t mean you any harm.” Han saw the shock on the faces of all three of the strangers, before the one with the visor asked in tones of utter amazement “You speak our language?” Han gave the younger man a look of disbelief. “Hey, it’s Basic, kid. They speak it from here to Dantooine and a helluva lot further out than that.” In the awkward pause, he took a moment to study the three again. They had all paled at his blunt answer to the question, and he added pityingly, “Are you from a different galaxy or something?” There was a long and tense silence broken only by the sighing of the wind as the tallest of the three, the one he had picked out as the one who was going to cause trouble, looked him directly in the eye. Han stared back, conscious he was being examined as a potential opponent. Finally the other man nodded, slowly and deliberately. “If you want the short answer, then yes.” - - - Wolverine saw both Storm and Cyclops glance sharply at him from the corner of his eye, and let out the breath he’d been holding. He’d said it. Another galaxy. Difficult to believe as the Professor’s theory was, it was acquiring more evidence by the second. Those furred bouncing lizards had certainly never existed on Earth; and where the hell was Dantooine? He watched the reactions of the three who had come to meet them with interest. The woman - more of a girl - had let out a little gasp and paled. The big mutant examined her appreciatively, noting both the exquisite face and the petite figure buried under layers of snow gear. “Are you trying to make fun of us?” she demanded. Before any of the three mutants could reply, she had been shushed by one of her companions, the smaller of the two. “No . . . he’s telling the truth. I can tell.“ Evidently the younger of the two men, the speaker was blond, going by the strands escaping from under his hood, and lightly built, but probably no weakling. He had some kind of weapon slung at his hip, but seemed reluctant to use it. He looked at the woman for a moment, and Wolverine guessed that some unspoken message passed between them. “I -” He was interrupted by the third of the party, and Wolverine tensed. This could mean trouble. The blond boy appeared unperturbed as his companion gestured and hissed “Luke . . .” “I can tell.” the younger one repeated, apparently sure of himself. Wolverine wondered if they had encountered another mutant - surely their home galaxy could not be the only one to harbour mutants? - one who had some variant of the mind-reading ability. The blond boy turned and looked at the three mutants, eyes flickering from Storm to Cyclops before settling on Wolverine. “I believe you, it’s alright. You can tell us about it later.” He paused, and glanced guiltily at his two companions, who were looking daggers at him. “I’m Commander Luke Skywalker. This is Han Solo -” “Captain Han Solo.” put in the older man with a touch of irritation. “- Captain Han Solo, sorry. And this -” the younger man indicated the small beauty on his other side - “- is Her Highness, Princess Leia Organa of Alderaan.” Wolverine glanced at Storm and Cyclops. Storm’s expression was questioning, Cyclops’ sceptical. He didn’t blame Cyclops; it didn’t take too much cynicism to be suspicious of their warm welcome. There was the off chance it was genuine, though. He nodded consideringly. “It’d probably be better if you met the Professor first.” The one who appeared to trust them looked confused. “The Professor?” Wolverine jerked his head towards their jet. “Inside the plane.” He saw the suspicion on the older of the two men’s face, and on the girl’s. She noticed him looking at her, and gave him an icy look to rival any delivered by Bobby. “I warn you,” she said frostily, “We’re armed. And don‘t think we won‘t use them.” Wolverine saw both Storm and Cyclops glance sharply at him and sighed. The Professor had told him to keep his claws to himself, but there were instances where a point needed making. “Listen, lady. So are we.” He flexed his wrists, felt the momentary spasm of agony as the razor-sharp adamantium sliced its way out through his skin, and then the familiar metallic ring as his claws locked into position. Shock and disbelief flowered on the faces of the three strangers, and he knew the demonstration had had the desired effect. A moment later the deadly claws had retracted, leaving only fast-healing cuts to show that they had ever been there. Storm spoke, her voice pacifying. “I’m sorry, but you did threaten us. We mean you no harm. Please, come inside.” She moved to the jet’s exit ramp and hit the open panel, stepping back as it whirred open in a flurry of snow. She entered, beckoning the others after her; Cyclops followed, after shooting Wolverine a look saying: look what you’ve done now. Wolverine shrugged, and headed after them. Behind him, he heard the muttered debate, and then the crunch of footsteps as the three strangers followed him in. I liked writing that a lot. Hope you like reading it. Nem -----signature----- BeTS Best Author '08 NEW Bad Dreams - http://boards.theforce.net/a/b1/29893091 Eleven Summers - http://boards.theforce.net/a/b1/29657584 Into The Shining Day - http://boards.theforce.net/a/b1/29224914
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Vampi_Digitalwytch Registered: Apr '04	Date Posted: 5/12/04 11:09am Subject: RE: Writers' Challenge 7 - When galaxies collide (The Cross-over challenge). - Date Edited: 5/12/04 11:12am (1 edits total) Edited By: Vampi_Digitalwytch
	applause That has to be one of the best show of characterizations I've seen of the movieverse X-men yet. And with as much X-men fic I've read over the years (far more than Star Wars fic), so far nothing's come that on the nose. -----signature----- I'd rather laugh with the sinners than cry with the saints. Bloopers RR- http://boards.theforce.net/message.asp?topic=15762005&start=15774240 Supporting the fight for the survival of fanfic.
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