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From the Ends of the 'Verse

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This story is No. 2 in the series "The Catastrophe". You may wish to read the series introduction and the preceeding stories first.

Summary: Social unrest, wars starting and ending, refugees, and mystical revelations. Of course, the Scoobies and the crew of Serenity are right in the thick of it. Sequel to "The Catastrophe."

Categories Author Rating Chapters Words Recs Reviews Hits Published Updated Complete
Multiple Crossings > GeneralDigiEmissaryFR1533,492031,5287 Apr 0718 Jun 07No


From the Ends of the 'Verse

Social unrest, wars starting and ending, refugees, and mystical revelations. Of course, the Scoobies and the crew of Serenity are right in the thick of it. Sequel to "The Catastrophe."


Disclaimer: The characters and ideas of Buffy the Vampire Slayer, The 4400, Firefly, Battlestar Galactica, and the Dead Zone belong to their respective owners. I am not one of these people.
Notes: This is a sequel to "The Catastrophe." It takes place post-Serenity, meaning it's very, very far in the future for Buffy and the 4400; it veers away from Battlestar Galactica canon after/during the end of Season 3 Episode 12, "Rapture." The Dead Zone will only play a very minor role in the crossovers; there may be other such minor crossovers added as the story progresses. This will contain male/female and female/female pairings, but nothing above FR-18 levels; currently nothing is planned above FR-15.

The being extracted itself from the Colonial Fleet's computers after several seconds of digital manipulation. Slightly altering the fleet's jump coordinates would have taken much less time had their computers been networked, but then again, if their computers had been networked they wouldn't have lasted three hours after the attack on the colonies. Originally, they would have missed the system only by what amounted to a few degrees separation, spread over light-years. The being was just giving them a slight nudge.

It found itself returned to the higher planes by the force of wills not its own. "That was not a slight nudge," a resonating collection of metaphysical voices informed him. "You have just significantly altered the destinies of all sentient life in this galaxy."

"I have no idea what you're talking about," it responded, placing its metaphorical hands in its figurative pockets. "Alternatively, I plead the fifth."

The higher beings, who had coalesced into a semblance of a tribunal, ignored this. "We elevated you because of the disservice done to your life by the rogue Power you knew as Jasmine." Their voices adopted a tone of almost parental disappointment. "You have proven irresponsible and unworthy of this privilege. We release you to humanity's current home to live a mortal life and die a mortal death."

The being did not have time to insert its next comeback, that rules were meant to be broken. It felt its cosmic awareness dissipate as its mind shrunk to once again fit inside a grouping of neurons.

You did good, Connor, Cordelia's voice whispered before the being lost consciousness.


After spending a few decades moving around among Core planets, Buffy, Jordan, Willow, and Dawn had settled on Ithaca, the largest terraformed moon of Athens. They lived relatively quiet lives on the outskirts of one of the larger towns. They had a small farm they kept up mostly for appearances' sake; with bank accounts that had been accumulating interest for over five hundred years, they could have bought Athens and all of its moons, if they had the inclination.

Every so often Willow would help out the townspeople with a healing spell, or Buffy would make sure of both parties' honesty in a trade negotiation. Dawn had a contract to translate for a few major universities, and they all had their various hobbies. On the whole, though, their tendencies as a group to fight evil had been left on Earth along with the demons that usually constituted it.

This all changed after the Signal (spelled with a capital, as the trend was becoming). The four immortals had finally been roused from the indolence that had taken over their existences.

As they realized that evil had not been left behind, after all, they became an active part of the destiny of mankind once again. Buffy's Slayer dreams returned, prompting the four to split up.

"Dawn, you and Willow have to stay here," Buffy told her sister. "I've been having dreams lately. I don't think we ended up settling here by accident. Jordan and I are going to Osiris to confront the Alliance."

Dawn touched the screen on her tablet. "I should reactivate Jordan's clearance then, right?" Buffy nodded, and she did so. Jordan, as one of the directors of the 4400 group that had worked to build the colony ships, still existed in government files. It was simple for Dawn to prod the Alliance's network into thinking he was a current agent.

Willow's only remark was "After all this time, there's still always a prophecy."


Buffy and Jordan walked confidently through the Capitol complex, acting like they were supposed to be where they were.

Their intent was to find the President's office; while the voting body of the Alliance elected two consuls every two years, it was widely known that this was a pacifying measure to make the citizenry believe that they were involved in the government. Getting to the President would make much more of an impact.

That is, if they could ever penetrate the crowds. Everywhere the two turned, there were government workers talking to or fleeing from journalists and the news media.

Finally, Buffy noticed an unobtrusive side door that seemed to open into a service hallway of some sort. Jordan's doctored access card worked to open it, and they entered a long, gray corridor.

"So what now?" Buffy asked.

"I asked Dawn to put the internal directory map onto a cube," he replied, fishing said cube from his pocket. It projected a small holographic image, showing the two of them as a blinking dot on the ground floor.

The President's office was immediately noticeable. The map simply had one fewer floor than the central building was supposed to have.

"Can you believe they actually thought that would stop people from finding it?" Jordan remarked in disbelief.

"Isn't this map only for Alliance workers?" Buffy pointed out. Jordan acknowledged that she was probably right; the intelligence of the average federal worker was one of the apparently many things that the Alliance had not improved.

They walked down the corridor until they found the stairs. All one hundred floors of stairs. Jordan considered asking Buffy to carry him, but even after being the sole source of testosterone in a two-mile radius for centuries, he still had a small amount of dignity.


After a few hours' climb, and a brief rest after that to compose themselves, Jordan slid his access card through the slot next to the door they had reached. It slid open, allowing a puff of air conditioning to fall on them.

They walked into the room, prepared for security systems and guards. What they found was only a man at a desk; however, when they saw him, Buffy's jaw dropped in disbelief.

"Hey, Buff," Angelus said. "Long time no see."
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