---NOT IN KANSAS ANYMORE…PART I---

INNER SANCTUM
THE CITADEL OF DARKNESS, PLANET NEW ALCATRAZ, PARIAH SYSTEM
2307 HOURS, OCTOBER 3, 3034 A.D.

Akasi approached the dais in the middle of the decrepit room, bearing the demonic seal of the inverted pentagram. He took off his gloves, revealing scars in the same shape as that of the accursed seal. Five men clothed in robes of blackness encircled the accursed mark.

“The seal has been made. Let the summoning ritual commence!”

One of the dark-robed men channeled some fire into his hands, and threw it on the seal. The flames raced across the seal's formation, eventually becoming fully ignited. With a motion from Akasi, they began chanting in a demonic language, growing in intensity until the Dark Lord threw up his hands, shouting…

“ENTER, DIABLO, LORD OF DARKNESS!”

The seal erupted in a flaming geyser that reached to the ceiling some 50 feet overhead, making the entire room shake. Akasi and his minions knelt before the pillar of flame as it subsided into a massive blaze some 15 feet high.

The shadow of a demonic figure was seen clambering up from the depths of the pit, standing 10 feet in height with glinting red eyes. It was none other than the Prince of Darkness himself: Satan.

“My loyal ones…what news do you have to bring me?” the ruler of Hell inquired.
“We have acquisitioned the aid of the Guild of Free Traders to assist in the fight against the Imperials, master Lucifer.”
“I see,” he mused. “And have you given them their first assignment?”
“Yes, my master. They have been sent to the border to test their strength, as per your orders.”
“Well done. Now go, my minions, and spread Hell’s Wrath across the Universe!”
“As you command, Satan.”

The shadow disappeared into the flames, which instantly went out. Their dark agenda received, Akasi and his followers exited the chamber, and sealed the door behind them until they returned.

The next day…

IMPERIAL SHIPYARDS
PLANET XYBER XVII, MANOS SYSTEM
0943 HOURS, OCTOBER 4, 3034 A.D.

The shipyards were abuzz with activity. Workers scrambled to load the C.N.S. Oblivion with the equipment she would need upon arriving at the border. In truth, the dispute could be easily solved without the navy sending their flagship to the front, but erring on the side of caution, Imperial High Command decreed that to hurry the situation along, at least one Omega-class Battlecruiser should be dispatched to the area. It appears the dart landed on the Oblivion's place on the dartboard.

“Y’know, this doesn’t make much sense to me, Bowser…why don’t we just let the rest of the fleet take care of this and we can all just sit pretty and enjoy ourselves?” Mike asked, annoyed.
“Because High Command posted it. They’re the ones, along with Commander, who set what needs to be done and what doesn’t.”
*sigh* “This has ‘long day’ written all over it, I bet…”

A few hours later, and the ship’s provisions were all packed on board, and the Oblivion was in orbit.

“Say Commander, how come you’re coming along?”
“I’m wanting to survey the border myself; besides, some stupid clause in my contract states that I need to be on active duty at least once a week.”
“I see. So you’re killin’ two birds with one stone, eh?”
“The same. Bowser, how long until we launch?”
“We can go at any time, chief.”
“Alrighty, then. Let’s move out!”

The Inter-Dimensional Time Gate Generator warmed up, fired, and ripped the space-time fabric wide open. But as the ship began its entry…

[WARNING: TIME GATE GENERATOR MALFUNCTION]

“What the…crap? Bowser, what the hell is going on down there?!”
“I’m not sure, Mike. Something’s gone haywire with the targeting systems…”
(BLAM!)
“GAH!!!”

[TARGETING MALFUNCTION; NEW COORDINATES SET]

“WHAT?! Bowser, shut it down, SHUT IT DOWN, NOW!!!”
“I can’t! The manual override’s been fried! We’re stuck on the current course…wherever that is we’re going…”
“We’ve got no choice. All hands, to your stations and brace for transport!”

The ship was pulled inside the bluish-white portal; their crew’s final destination unknown.

A few hours later, and they were at their destination…

*insert awesome warp-in sound here*

Mike and the rest of the crew glanced around. They were still in space, but it was clearly not the Empire’s territory…
“Something’s wrong…Commander, should the stars be positioned like that?”
“No. When I was last here, the belt of Orion was 132 degrees from the azimuth…”
“Bowser, check our current time and position.”
“On it big guy…”

The chief technician frantically punched in code to determine their current position, far away from home.

“Well, what did you find?”
“Guys…you’ll never believe this…” Bowser said, disgusted.
“What?”
“Check out the display…”

Bowser forwarded the position to the bridge, where the coordinates were read:

NOVA-VERSE
HIGH ORBIT ABOVE PLANET EARTH/KANE BAND, SOL SYSTEM
1200 HOURS, MARCH 21, 1181 N.C. (3961 A.D.)

“Great. Just great,” Commander commented, sarcastically. “We got flung to the one realm we had EXPLICITLY intended to stay away from…the Nova Universe.”
“Commander, do you think that the Bureau is aware of our presence? As psykers, we’d make for some VERY ripe targets, even though their normal enslavement devices wouldn’t work…”
“I’m not sure, Mike. I just don’t know. I DO know this, though…if Melissa Krane gets a hold of us, she’s gonna have a field day showing us off as trophies to the other races…”
“I think we should turn on our psionic jammers; at the very least, it'll make us less noticeable to other psykers.”
“Good idea; the last thing I want is the enslaved Vell-Os blowing our cover.”

They flicked their little headphone-like devices on, and they made a pleasant humming noise, making them impervious to mind control or other means of psychic influence. Now that they knew where they were, they decided to blend in with the rest of the various ships; unfortunately, there aren’t a lot of places a 900-mile long vessel can easily hide. But just then…

“Commander, look at this!”
“What is it, Mike?”
“There’s some sort of ship out there…it’s DEFINITELY not Nova in origin, and I don’t know of any Renegade, Voinian, or even Imperial design that looks like it…”
“Ensign, perform a scan on that ship.”
“Aye sir.”

After a few minutes of computing, the name BLACK CROSS came up on the ID scanner. It was an ominous-looking ship.

“Gentlemen, we’re not in Kansas anymore…” Mike commented…

---TRANSMISSION INTERRUPTED---

---

Notes n' stuff:

This marks the first official foray into the Nova-Verse, which is where this RP mainly takes place (with other guys on the ASW forums).

There's a BIG reason why Satan's here - I don't wanna spoil anything, so you'll find out as time goes by. I WILL say, though, that Christianity plays a VERY big role in my story. Some of you may already know, however, if you've read my sections on DA. However, they're VERY unpolished (and they're going to stay that way), so I'd suggest you didn't. Sorry if I'm being blunt.

If I introduce other people's characters/vehicles (like the Black Cross), I NEVER give their names or screen names - I'm a very staunch supporter of people's privacy.

Also, since my surgery's tomorrow, I decided to update early.

Bowser © Nintendo
Chade McGowan, Commander Melissa Krane, and the Nova-Verse © Ambrosia Software
Black Cross is © its creator.
The Empire, JR/VA, and all characters w/in © Me