"The long Journey" (a Shadowrun crossover with everything)

[Praeothmin]

Very short update...

Chapter 58

James worked in Sickbay for a few hours and then had Doc replace him while he went to bed, after finding a spare quarter where Riddick could retire and rest as well.
As he had expected, the news that he had accepted Riddick’s offer of becoming part of the MACOs hadn’t sat well with the entire team, their displeasure and distrust of the man made vocal during the short meeting that he held in his quarters during a break in his Med-shift.
James had explained that he believed Riddick would add some very needed recon capabilities the team lacked, and that, in view of all the dangerous creatures the team were used to encountering, he would also add some much needed muscle in a team where members fell all too often from combat wounds.
The MACOs could not argue his points, and so the meeting had ended with Hudson’s words.

“You’re the boss, Major, but if he tries anything funny, I’ll shoot him in the balls and watch him pick up the pieces.”

To which Riddick only smiled while looking Hudson straight in the eyes, which highly unnerved the exiting man.
After the meeting, James had gone back to Sickbay to work his shift, while Riddick had accompanied him to look after Kyra.
But while in Sickbay, he kept asking James about MACO procedures and tactics, giving suggestions for his possible uses in the team, suggestions which James had already considered, and so which he readily accepted, making him very happy indeed to have that man in the team.

Then power went away in an all too familiar way, with creaking and cracking sound being heard all over the ship, while it shook under their feet, throwing most people to the ground, even Riddick, though the man only went down to one knee.
He looked at James with newfound respect when he saw the big MACO leader still on his feet, holding a Nurse up who’d almost fallen with a tray full of medicine while on her way to continue Kyra’s treatment.
Everything came back to normal within a minute, consoles beeping back to life, self-medicating beds starting their patient monitoring anew, and within seconds, aside from the sense of dread felt by the Musashi crew that came from not knowing where they now were, things were back to normal.
Riddick, of course, had picked up on the mood change, and so he shot James a questioning look.
James sighed, knowing his knew acquaintances –or more specifically Kyra, since Riddick had pledged his allegiance to the Musashi and the MACOs- had now been robbed of their choice of places to go to, had lost all connections to their own universe.

“Riddick,” He began, “It seems you’re not the only one who’ll stay on the Musashi for a while.”

“What do you mean?” Asked Riddick while narrowing his eyes.

“Well, we just experienced another dimension jump.” He told him.

“A dimension jump?” Riddick repeated.
“What the hell is that?
Please explain, and pretend you’re talking to someone who was educated in the Penal system.
In fact,” He added, “Don’t pretend!”

And so James explained everything quickly, about his first visit on the Musashi, and the following jumps initiated by the Orb of the Prophets, and the people they’d encountered and helped.
He was just finishing his explanation when his Com-badge chirped.

“James Reynolds here!” He said.

“James, Captain Kirkinger here.
Please join us on the bridge.
It seems we need to once again explore strange news worlds and new civilizations.” The Captain said with a sigh.

“On my way!” James replied.

He left Riddick in Sickbay to look over Kyra, and went to the ship’s Bridge, moving fast.
He was on the Bridge less than two minutes later, noticing that all systems appeared fully functioning, the crew hard at work on assessing their situation.
Consoles kept beeping upon each new discovery, yet the alarm klaxons remained off, letting James know no enemies, potential or real, had been detected yet.
Still, fingers flew all over sensor controls in an effort to find out where –or even when- they had been thrown.
The view screen displayed a planetary surface, and from the angle of the image, James concluded the Musashi was orbiting it.
It was green and lush, at first glance, with a few areas that could be identified as deserts.

“Ah, there you are, James.” Captain Kirkinger told him when he noticed his presence.
“We’re trying to find out what surprises await us on the planet below.” He said, indicating the view screen.
“So far, so good.
No enemies detected, no other ships in the vicinity.”

James nodded, and waited for the full report the Conn officer would eventually make to his Captain once all the sweeps were done.
He didn’t have to wait for too long.

“Captain,” A young female human Ensign said a few minutes after James’s arrival, “Primary sweeps are over.”

“Report, ensign Teller!” Was all Kirkinger said.

“Well Sir, we detected no ships within the next fifteen Light-Years, it seems we’re the only ones around here.
But we shouldn’t be surprised, I suppose Sir, considering the planet below.”

The Ensign took a deep breath, and then continued her report.

“We have made complete planetary scans, but those are just preliminary ones, as you would expect, the most detailed ones will be completed and correlated in a few more minutes…”

“Ensign,” The Captain interrupted gently, “I know sensor procedures.
Please get to the report.” He finished with a smile.

“Yes Sir!” The nervous Ensign replied, face flushed.

Captain Kirkinger shot a look at James, mouthing “she’s fresh out of the Academy” and returned his gaze on the young woman.

“Sir, we have found no traces of any technology on the surface of this planet.
It is our conclusion that this planet is not only pre-Warp, but it is also most likely pre-industrial.
Atmosphere scans have detected only the faintest traces of pollutants, and then only the type found from coal and oil burning.
Life signs are diverse, but humanoids only count for around 6 million, with sensor scans finding new ones every second.
Apparently some of those life signs are buried deep within the planet’s core.
Our actual state of disrepair means we cannot scan to deep, or very fast.
On the surface, the most populous site would be this city, on the West Coast.”

The Ensign zoomed in on what looked like a Port-City, with all kinds of boats tied to piers, and bigger ones in the city bay, anchors dropped, and they saw people bustling all over the City.
They could clearly see horse-drawn carriages with drivers on top, but most people were on foot, wearing all kinds of strange attire and clothing.

“Wow!” Was all James could say.

“Indeed!” Was Cmdr Tremblay’s reply.

“This is not the most interesting scan though, Captain.” The Ensign piped in hesitantly.
“We caught this on the visual scans a few moments ago.
I think you’ll find it most interesting.”

Her fingers flew over her console’s controls, and the City’s image was replaced what James assumed at first was a fighter plane, deep blue with a metallic glint, and he was about to remark that the sensors needed tweaking indeed if they had missed this kind of technology, but then the Ensign zoomed in on the object.
They all gasped, as the zoomed image showed them in detail what they were looking at.
The object conjured up the same emotion for all, one of awe and dread, even though they had never seen such a creature for real –all except for one person.

It’s a fragging Dragon, James thought.

[Khas]

To quote Marty from Stargate SG-1:
"You've got me, I have no idea what that is."

Seriously, which franchise did you use this time?

[Praeothmin]

You'll just have to keep reading... :)

Seriously, you should know in the next chapter...

[sonofccn]

Well I'm going to throw my money in the hat for Warcraft. Not that it couldn't be countless other fantasy worlds but at least I have a small passing knowledge of the former so I'll vote for that.

[Praeothmin]

Did a slight modification on my last chapter's last sentences...
Also, update, but you may not yet know where they are...

Chapter 59

A few hours later, they were all meeting in the Captain’s Ready Room, Captain Krikinger and his XO, along with Cmdr Teramak and the ship’s Chief Engineer, with the MACOs and their new, controversial, recruit.
They had been shown the scan results from the planet, including the last shot of the aerial creature, which had the same effect on the people seeing it for the first time as it had on the ones who had seen it earlier.
They still felt it the second time they saw the creature.

“Care to repeat what you told me in private, Major?” The Captain asked James.

He nodded, and told the others the same thing he had told the Captain earlier, before the meeting had been convened.

“The creature we see flying above the ground in these scans is called a Dragon.” He told the assembled people.
“They are immensely powerful, highly intelligent, and are harder to kill than a Tank, which they’re roughly the size of.
They can fly, have serrated claws and teeth that can go through steel like a hot knife through butter, and some have powerful magical abilities.
But their most powerful weapon is their Breath ability.
They can spit flame or poison gases at you from their mouths at up to fifteen meters, easily.
Their flames are hot enough to melt steel within seconds, their breath noxious enough that standard re-breathers will barely help you to resist them.” He finished.

All looked at him with shocked expressions, even Riddick.

“And how is it that you know so much about these creatures?” He asked James suspiciously, cocking his head.

“Because where I come from,” He explained, “These creatures exist, and live with us.”

This surprised everyone, but more so the crew of the Musashi.

“I thought you came from a technologically advanced society, what with all the modifications you’ve had.” Cmdr Tremblay said.

“I do!” He told her.

He knew he was going to expand on his answer by the looks on the others’ faces.

“You see, I come from Earth, or a version of Earth, that discovered, while making great leaps technologically, that Magic was real.”
They were all hooked to his words, he could see, wanting to know more.
“While humans were discovering how to merge our bodies with machines, our minds with computers, we suddenly saw some of our neighbours change into what fairy tales had called Elves and Dwarves, for no apparent reasons.
Then there came the Orcs and Trolls, and all sorts of other magical creatures we thought were only figments of some long lost authors’ imaginations.
People could do unexplainable things, things normally attributed to magic.
Then, the Dragons appeared and cemented the fact Magic had come into our world, and was there to stay.
It’s still rare, people possessing some magical capabilities are less than one in a thousand, and then they include those with only low powers, or one special ability.
Full Mages or Shamans, the ones that can explode a car, kill you with a thought, create fireballs, they are very rare, and highly sought by MegaCorps, the corporations controlling the world’s economy.
There are also what we call Physical Adepts, who use Magic to make their bodies do what mine does using Biotechnology.”

He looked at them, wondering what they were thinking, or if they even believed him.

“That’s my world,” He told them, “But it doesn’t mean it’s the same here.
We know there’s no technology, but perhaps Dragons here are not like on my world.
Perhaps there is no Magic aside for them.”

“Or perhaps Magic is even more present than in your reality.” Captain Kirkinger said.
“The good news is that sensors have detected only this creature at the moment, so we may hope they do not exist in great quantities.
In any case, we need to find out where we are, and what to expect from this world.”

“Or,” Cmdr T’Len said, “What this world expects from James.”

They all looked at her quizzically, except for James who had already been down this line of thought.

“We can clearly infer by now the only reason we jump from reality to reality is because of Major Reynolds’s connection with the Orb.
Every reality we were thrown in was in deep crisis, and needed help, help we were able to provide, mostly through our new crew additions, though sometimes through the Musashi.
Yet each time, we only jumped after the crisis had been dealt with sufficiently for the humans to gain an increased survival rate.
So I ask again: what does this reality need from Major Reynolds?
What crisis is facing humankind on this planet?”

“Why do you think the problem in only found here, on this planet?” Hudson asked.

“Because they don’t have spaceships, nitwit!” Hicks replied, making everyone smile.

“Oh yeah, that’s right, they’re like cavemen, right?” Hudson added.
“If I remember correctly, you guys… I mean, we do too now, I guess.” He said with a smile.
“We got like the First Direction or something which prevents us from going there, right?”

“The Prime Directive, correct.” Answered Captain Kirkinger.
“But it does not forbid us to… Go there, as you say.
What it does is forbid us to interfere with, or influence this planet’s natural evolution, by introducing concepts or technology they are not ready for yet.
Imagine introducing these people to Phasers, or giving nuclear armaments to societies that have not gained the maturity to wield this power properly.
What do you think would happen?” He asked Hudson.

“Easy: they’d blow themselves up with it, and then bye bye evolution… Except for cockroaches.” Hudson added.
“These critters’ll survive anything.” He said with a smile.

“Actually,” Cmdr T’Len intervened, “This is not true.
Tests were made and showed that cockroaches were no more likely to survive the radiation than any other animals, and that…”
She was interrupted by a smiling Captain Kirkinger.

“Yes, thank you Cmdr, I’m sure Private Hudson would be quite interested in a full lecture on atomic holocaust survival later, but for now, we need to stay focused on the subject matter: How do we make contact without polluting their natural evolution, and how do we successfully keep our crewmembers from being eaten by Dragons?”

“What about repairs? Asked James.
“Can this planet help us make repairs to the ship?
Does it have all the raw materials we need?”

The Captain looked at Cmdr T’Len and nodded.

“As a matter of fact, it does, Major.
Further scans have indicated the planetary crust is full of high density ores, some of which we’ve never encountered before, with properties resembling Duranium and Tritanium.
Also, we’ve scanned a mountain range which gave us high density deposits of natural Dilithium, enough to replace the crystals in the Warp Drive, and to have an extra pair of crystals in case of emergencies.
We’ll be able to mine them using the transporters, and refine onboard.
Our work will leave you ample time to make first contact, since first estimates place the fully completed repairs at a month.”

“Ok, good to know we’re not on a tight schedule.” James said smiling.
He became serious again.
“Captain, I believe I know how to make first contact without doing any pollution.
We shall use the acquired scans to re-create their kind of clothing and equipment, using the Replicators.
Detailed analyses of the scans showed us they are, technologically speaking, close to Earth’s middle-ages in technological evolution.
They use swords, axes, all kinds of melee weapons, bows and arrows, and crossbows as well for range attacks.
The MACOs will gear up using that kind of equipment, the only technological equipment we bring will be one communicator.
It looks like a decorative pin, easy to conceal and is easy enough to destroy should it become necessary.”

“Woooow, Major dude, I ain’t trained on no bow and arrows or crossbows.” Hudson said energetically.

Well, neither am I, but it’s either range weapons or you get into melee using swords and shields.” James told him.

“Crossbows are aimed just like a gun anyways, Hudson.” Hicks said.
“Even you can actually hit something with some practice.” He added with a smile.

“MACOs, we are in no hurry, we have no enemies breathing down our necks, and so we certainly take a few days to practice with our new equipment before we actually go out and use it.” James told them.
“Captain, since it seems we will remain in stationary orbit around the mountains, I would suggest, mountain ranges usually being remote locations, that we set our first encounter near a small human settlement close to them.
That way, we will minimise exposure, and reduce the risks of cultural contamination and of anything wrong happening.”

“Agreed!” Captain Kirkinger replied.

The planning completed, the MACOs left the ready room and got to James’s quarters, still used as the MACOs base of operations.
The first order of business was to plan each member’s role in the team, which was made more difficult because the MACOs, used to operating with Starfleet equipment, saw many of their roles change.
Boomer could not be a pilot, since no shuttles would be used, but her Cylon strength and her Colonial Marine combat training made her ideal for melee battle.
Doc would still be the team’s Medic, but he would have to rely on his natural skills without being able to count on Starfleet’s field kits, making his job more difficult.
It was decided he would stay with the range attackers, using his melee skills to protect them from rear attacks.
Hudson and Hicks, used to their rifles and guns, were capable melee fighters, but their skills were nowhere near James’s and Riddick’s, so they were to be the ranged weapon support on the missions.
Riddick would be used in a natural role for him: advanced stealth recon, and sentry elimination.

They used the detailed scans of the planet and its inhabitants to replicate suits of armor and weapons, each according to their roles.
James and Boomer had full combat armor, what the ship’s computer called Full-Plate suits, since they would be in the thick of it.
Riddick, in order for him to be able to move silently, but still needing protection, received a suit of armor made from boiled-leather.
It was rigid, and offered good protection against glancing blows, but would not offer much safety against direct hits.
Riddick wasn’t worried since he didn’t plan on getting seen, let alone hit.
Doc, Hudson and Hicks received armor that was in between, called a Plate mail, comprised of a steel breast plate, vambraces and greaves, with a chain suit underneath to cover the rest of the body.
It was a good compromise between mobility and protection.
The armors were basic models, with no special decorations or designs, as they wanted to be as inconspicuous as possible.
That didn’t mean they weren’t quality armors, though, as the Replicators, having no records on the manufacturing procedures used in medieval Earth had simply used modern Starfleet-era steel for armor creation.
This resulted in armors that, while they weighed as much as any good set of medieval plate armor, were much sturdier and resistant to weapons.
The same was said about their melee weapons.
The swords and knives were much sharper, and much more resistant to impact than standard medieval steel.
It had been decided this could not be avoided, and so they would risk it, since it only involved using similar material of better quality.
As for the heavy crossbows, while they were no better than medieval ones, the computer had found some strange repeating designs that allowed a user to fire five bolts in short order before needing to replace his bolt clip.
They had designed medieval webbing that allowed each of the two men to carry five replacement clips each, after which they would have to fire one bolt at a time in turn until they could refill their clips.
James selected long swords for Boomer and him, and a short one closely resembling Starfleet’s combat knife, for Doc, as well as for the other two ranged attackers.
Riddick had declined any swords, short or long, preferring instead replicas of his two favorite knives.
He had specially balanced throwing knives made for him as well, a set of five, which he hid all over his body, all within easy reach.
They also had period inspired backpacks and clothing made, as well as all the equipment they thought they would need, like torches, ropes and hooks, bedrolls, flintlocks for starting fire, and lock picks –Riddick had suggested those- for barred doors.
They also selected a variety of dried foods and cheese any normal traveller would have, and primitive wooden utensils and plates to eat food in.
Which lead them add small cooking pots in case they decided to eat freshly killed food.
They quickly realized how hard medieval people had it compared to them, even James missing all the luxuries he had access to when in Seattle.
The only one not taken aback was Riddick, something that no longer surprised James once he remembered where the dangerous man had first been encountered.

Once they were all fully equipped, James filed a priority Holodeck request so the MACOs could practice with their new equipment.
The request, of course, had been accepted and granted by Cmdr Teramak.
For three days they practiced in the Holodeck, running multiple fight and encounter scenarios, modifying their strategies as needed, and more importantly, getting used to their new equipment.
James noticed that the apprehension his crewmembers had felt towards Riddick at first quickly dissolved once they realized how useful he was to the team, and how dangerous he could be to an enemy.
Even Hudson had seemed to learn to tolerate him, though he kept giving the man a harsh glare when he felt Riddick hadn’t been serious enough in a scenario.
Riddick, in turn, had apparently decided Hudson needed to fear him a bit more, as he kept coming out of hiding always next to Hudson in the most startling manner, which had prompted Hudson to shout at Riddick, when he was receding in the bush to hide:

“I’m gonna let one bolt go through your ass if you continue like this.”

“Why don’t you practice on hitting the side of a barn with this thing first?” Was all Riddick had replied, unseen, eliciting a smile from the rest of the team.

It was true that Hudson’s aim wasn’t quite as good as Hicks’s, James had thought.
In fact, it was decidedly worst.
Hicks had taken to crossbows like he had taken to guns, and after three days, he could now hit a small bird in flight at more than a hundred meters three times out of four.
Even Riddick had been impressed, so much that he had told Hicks as much, gaining increased respect from the man.
In Hudson’s case, it was a bit more difficult.
He was good, no doubt, his training with rifles helping him a lot, but he wasn’t the sniper Hicks was.
He could hit a human-sized target at a hundred meters half the time, which was much farther than they planned to fight, and his misses weren’t by much.
But when compared to Hicks, he simply could not cut it.
James knew though that while Riddick liked to remind Hudson of who was the worst shot between the two Marines, the killer’s own test with crossbows, performed when he thought he was alone, were less than stellar, his results even worse than Hudson’s.
The big MACO leader simply filed the information away, vowing to use it when he felt it would be best for a laugh.

At the end of the third day of practice, as they were about to leave the Holodeck, the doors hissed open and Kyra came through, a smile on her face, bringing one on Riddick’s.

“I heard you guys were preparing a mission without me.” She said, looking at James.
“Thought you could leave behind without me noticing?”

James smiled, truly happy to see her on her feet, with no apparent pain in the way she moved, but it wasn’t a surprise, since he had been keeping tab on her condition and treatments, as had Riddick.

“So you know about the reality jump?” He asked her.

“Yeah, Riddick told me all about it.” She replied factually, as if having been thrown out of her reality didn’t matter to her.

Which, James realized instantly, most likely didn’t.
In her universe, she was a convicted killer, an ex sex-slave and now, a fugitive from the law.
She had no friends except for perhaps Imam, but the person she most respected and loved was on the Musashi.
Why would she care, he thought.

“I didn’t want to decide for you as to what would be your new life, while we try to find a way back home for you.” He told her honestly.

“I don’t wanna go back home, what I want is to be with you and Riddick.
That’s where the excitement will be.” She told him eagerly.

“This isn’t a game, you know.” James told her seriously.
“If you come in the team, you’ll have to do things my way, follow my orders, or the orders of your superiors.
This won’t be a walk in the parc.
Do you understand this?” He asked her.

Her enthusiasm barely affected, she replied immediately.

“I don’t care, I’ll follow any order you give, do whatever you want me to,” She said with an unhidden lustful tone, “just let me be part of the team.”

James saw Boomer had clearly noticed the lust in her voice, and threw her a jealous glance, which Kyra picked up on, easily understanding Boomer’s feelings for James.
Both women disliked each other instantly.
James knew he’d have his hands full, has he had seen the lustful eyes the males had thrown Kyra’s way, and the protective gaze Riddick had displayed in response, yet he somehow welcomed the challenge, knowing the end result would be well worth it.

“Ok then, we’ll just have to find you a role for within the team.” He told her.

“She’ll be with me.” Riddick said matter-of-factly.
“She’s got the skills to be recon like me, and will be the perfect relay between me and the team.”

James smiled, for he had thought of that very role for the lithe woman.

“Ok then, recon it is.”
He went to the Replicator at the Holodeck’s entrance.
“Computer, replicate MACO kit, designation: Kyra.”

Leather armor, matching Riddick’s, but to Kyra’s specifications, with matching throwing knives, appeared in a shimmering golden field.

“I had a feeling you would want to be part of the team.” James told her, to her apparent delight.
“Suit up, and we’ll do a few more practice runs for you to get acquainted with the team’s tactics.”

She went deeper in the Holodeck, behind made up trees, and got dressed in her armor, which fit perfectly.
They practiced for a few hours more, Kyra falling in her role amazingly fast, following Riddick’s advice when she made mistakes, intent on not repeating them anymore.
At the end, James was satisfied, for he had a well oiled team, ready to operate in what was still an unknown terrain, facing unknown enemies.
But then, that was what the MACOs had been created for.

“Well done team, well done.
Now, all of you, get some rest, we’ve leaving tomorrow morning, and I’m sure it’s going to be a long, and very tough, mission.” He told them as they left the Holodeck.

“Now that I’m out of Sickbay, where do I sleep?” A lewd Kyra asked James, making sure Boomer could hear her.

Before he could reply, Riddick’s voice was heard:
“In my quarters.
You’ll have the bed, I’ll sleep on the floor.
Come on!”

He then spun around, and walked to his quarters.

“Too bad!” Kyra said in mock pouting.
“I would have loved to see if your endurance is as good as your agility.”

James shook his head and went to his quarters, hearing a distant Boomer curse Kyra.

[Khas]

Wait, is this Dragon Riders of Pern?

[sonofccn]

The "First Direction". Go Hudson! :)

On another topic guess I guessed wrong about the setting, if they have scanned good enough to guestimate their tech level and garb they'd have noticed a second nonhuman race like green skinned Orcs. Oh well.

[Khas]

Wait, or is this planet Austair IV in the Dragon's Blood universe? Or should I just stop with the random guessing?

Either way, Pern or Austair IV sound like the most likely candidates to me.

[Praeothmin]

Short update, hope you like it...

Chapter 60

A soft breeze was flowing through the trees, ruffling leaves, and making branches sway lightly.
Birds used wind currents to lazily glide through the air over the trees, some making their way to their nest through branches.
The serenity of that part of the forest was disturbed by several golden energy fields appearing in a small clearing, fields that were replaced by materializing human bodies in armor, sporting various types of weapons.
As soon as the humans were fully recomposed, they sprung to action, two of them, a burly man and a young woman, leaving the main group to disappear in the forest, scouting the surrounding area.
The leader of the group, a hulking human in full plate armor, brought his hand close to his mouth and spoke softly to it.

“Major Reynolds to Musashi, we’ve arrived, safe and sound, and are ready to begin mission.
We will contact you again from this location in two weeks as planned.
Reynolds out!” He said, and then hid what he was holding in a hidden pouch under his armor.
He looked around out of habit, just as Riddick and Kyra had gone to scout the surroundings out of practice, but knew that he didn’t need to, as the ship’s sensors had confirmed no living humanoids within kilometres of their location.
They had selected this location because it was close to a pair of small settlements, equally distant from one another, located farther North of their location.
They had estimated half a day’s walk to either of them from their starting point, the smallest settlement having been chosen first, as they had detected less than fifty humanoids there, and so they felt it heightened their chances of making a subtler first contact with the planet’s natives.
The different types of humanoids detected in the area, human and other, had them wonder if the planet had been colonized by a space-faring civilization in the past, or if this planet was going through something similar to James’s original reality, Magic having made its appearance, explaining the dragon, and these humanoids were like the different Metahumans living in his reality.

Their target having been decided, they planned their route using printed out maps they had created from the ship’s computer.
The maps had been created using the ship’s scans of the surface, but then, remembering that maps from this world could not have that kind of details, they had been modified, the computer using an algorithm inspired form original middle-age human maps of Earth to render the maps with less details, less accuracy.
This had the result of making their planned route less precise, going as far as being left in the dark about topological characteristics of the land in certain cases.
They would have to rely heavily on their scouts, once again making James thankful for Riddick’s, and Kyra’s, presence.
Their tracking skills during the simulations on the Musashi had been second to none.
Kyra had been able to track their quarries through all terrains, and only lost their tracks when the weather became unbearable, like heavy rain, or through mud.
But then Riddick would pop out of nowhere, having picked up a trace and had led them the rest of the way, to the admiration of all, Hudson included.
And so James felt fully confident that his team would get exactly where they wanted, within a reasonable timeframe, due to his exceptional trackers.

They had been advancing for a few hours, Riddick far in advance of the group in the woods, unseen by any except for Kyra, who once in a while popped out of the woods in front of the group to deliver the dangerous man’s progress reports, telling them when they needed to make course corrections, or if he saw anything of interest.
Then, hurriedly, as if danger was hot on her trail, Kyra came out of the brush, panting hard, showing them she had been running.

“There’s a road about two… kilometres up ahead… and Riddick’s found a caravan.” She said, out of breath.
“He said it’s being attacked.” She added.

James’s heart was suddenly filled with dread.
Knowing Riddick, he was sure the killer had jumped in the fray with glee.
He only hoped the man had chosen the right side.

“Lead us there, quick!” He told Kyra, who turned around and started back the way she came at a quick jog.
They had covered a few hundred meters when James’s enhanced hearing picked up sounds, such as yells, grunts, and metal objects ringing of each other.
The sounds of a battle, and judging by the noise level he heard, it was a big one.

“Lead them to the fight, but stay together.” He told Kyra while taking the lead.
He turned around and burst out in a run, his great speed helping him cover the rest of the distance in only a few minutes.
As he ran, he promised himself he’d let Riddick know how he felt about the man jumping in a fight without waiting for orders.
He knew there would be moments like this one, he just hadn’t expected it to be this soon in a mission.
As he made his way towards the caravan, using the constantly louder sounds as a beacon, he unsheathed his sword and mentally prepared himself, even though he still didn’t know who the good guys were, and who were the bad guys.
He was starting to see more details, the forest getting clearer near the road, and saw the road was wide, and stretched near a river, flowing lazily on the opposite side, less than a hundred meters away.
He couldn’t yet see the caravan, however, but knew from the sounds he was near.
He burst from the forest at a run, and noticed movement to his right, so he turned that way, and saw the fight.
The attackers struck James for their strong physical resemblance to Orcs from his reality, the main difference being how brutish these ones looked.
In James’s reality, Orcs had smoother physical traits, to the point where some of them could actually pass for humans, but the creatures he thought of Orcs here looked more like Neanderthal versions of the Orcs he knew.
These Orcs, he saw, were attacking a human caravan, but more importantly, and this was what suddenly made his blood boil, they were attacking a caravan of settlers, most likely full of simple farmers and, more importantly, full of women and children.
The people from the caravan were doing their best to defend themselves, James even noticing some defenders wearing light armor and wielding weapons with some proficiency, most likely militia men from a nearby settlement, but the throng of Orcs was pressing hard from all sides, and he saw many bodies on the ground, the bodies of those unlucky enough to have been caught outside the protective circle of men defending the caravan.
Anger filled James’s mind, all thoughts of discipline towards Riddick flew out of his head and were replaced by an eagerness to defend the besieged people.
He easily found his wayward scout, as at the front of the caravan, Orcs were being thrown to and fro, more often than not gushing blood from garish wounds.
One elder man, tall and lean, with grey hair and a salt and pepper moustache, was standing tall near the lead wagon, hacking at any Orcs getting too close to the women and children huddled behind him, other men standing beside him, fighting as best they could.
But they were weakening, James saw, and Riddick could not see them from where he was, and so James ran, mustering all the speed his powerful legs could provide, heading straight for the tall man and his protective team.
At the sound of his metallic armor, James going in full steam, Orcs turned their heads his way to see what was causing all that noise.
Their mouths opened in surprise at the sight of the blurred armoured man running towards them.
The Orcs, their hands full with Riddick, the dangerous Furyan cutting a swath of destruction through their ranks, truly understood how outmatched they were when James made contact.
His sword came in a circle over a trusting spear to deflect out wide, so fast the spear wielder barely registered the parry when his spear shaft broke in half.
Then James body checked the Orc, who was airborne before he even registered his thoracic cage get crushed from the impact, and it was dead before it landed on a companion in a heap of broken bones and crushed organs.
On and on he pushed, punching, kicking, shoving Orcs aside as if they weighed nothing, his sword slashing left and right, its fine steel going through spear shafts and Orc bodies easily, leaving a path of death and destruction behind him no one could believe from a single human being.
The Orcs had quickly learned to give him a wide berth, and they started throwing their spears at him, which forced James to slow down, taking the time to swat the spears aside with his sword, once even catching a badly thrown spear in his hand, and throwing it back at an Orc with sufficient force to impale it and the following Orc, killing them both instantly.
James was quickly thinning the Orc ranks near him, but he realized he would not get to the lead wagon in time, and he saw the tall man, the last of the line of the defenders, fall down under an Orc spear.

“NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!” Cried the big MACO leader, and if the Orc thought he was dangerous before, if they thought the other man was dangerous before, they knew how wrong they were.
James started hacking with abandon, relieving an Orc from his short sword, and then went at them with two weapons.
Riddick, his attention caught by his leader’s cry, seeing the children, snarled and doubled his attack speed.
But they both knew they wouldn’t make it in time, as the lead Orc came over a woman, her body protectively placed between her and the children, it lifted its sword, ready to strike, but then froze in mid-strike, a look of surprise painted on its face.
James then noticed the tip of a crossbow bolt, coming out from the creature’s throat.

“Yeeeeeaaaaaawwww! DROP DEAD YOU FUCKEEEEEEERRRSSSS!” was Hudson’s war cry as he fired bolt after bolt in the throng of Orcs, leaving the sniping to Hicks.

Out of the forest they came, Hicks and Hudson staying at the edge, Doc coming in a defensive position between them and the Orcs, Kyra right next to him, flinging dagger after dagger at the confused Orcs.
Boomer just ran straight for the lead wagon, the Cylon’s fury clear his James’s eyes.
A big Orc, wielding sword and shield, spotted the small human woman in armor coming at it, and it smiled.
It went at Boomer in a defensive pause, its shield in front of it as protection as it swung at Boomer.
Her parry was nothing of the sort, simply batting the big Orc’s sword out of its hands with a powerful side swing, causing the Orc to gasp in surprise.
Her left hand then grabbed its shield and pulled down against the Orc’s strength, but the creature understood how outmatched it was when his shield went down, lower and lower, exposing his torso, and then Boomer simply impaled it on her sword.
She then lifted her sword arm up high, letting all who looked upon her how powerful this small human woman truly was, even Kyra - so used to seeing James and Riddick in action- gasped in awe, never suspecting Boomer was that strong.

“Yeaaaahh Boomer baby, show those motherfuckers who’s boss.” Yelled Hudson, and Doc couldn’t help but smile.

The MACOs’ intervention had created the break James and Riddick had hoped for, though, and through renewed efforts, they connected at the lead wagon, taking up the defensive position the courageous humans had to valiantly tried to keep earlier.
But theirs was not the defence of normal humans, theirs was the defence of an Alpha Furyan, borne of violence and bred for war, and that of a human Shadowrunner biogenetically augmented to survive anything, and so the Orc assault was defeated, their forces being pushed back by these two, those who would not retreat being cut down where they stood.
At the back of the throng, Boomer kept advancing slowly, under cover of Hudson’s shots, and the Orcs who had understood that the human could not shoot to close to his female friend, thinking to exploit blind spots in Boomer’s defence, found themselves stabbed to death by a lithe and quick Kyra, who had gone up to Boomer’s back to help, who had quickly understood how her fighting style, subtle and acrobatic, would best complement Boomer’s, and so the two women made her way towards their two male counterparts, with the Orcs quickly running out of maneuvering room between the two forces.

As the other caravan defenders, courage fired up anew from the intervention of these welcomed warriors, began to fight back more ferociously, the loud wailing of a horn was heard.
James understood immediately what it meant when the Orcs renewed the fight and no longer looked to run away.
They were still getting slaughtered, but they knew reinforcements were on the way.
And then James saw them, fresh Orc troops, led by an Orc with strange flowery robes, coming out from the way back.

Frag it all, they had to have a fragging Shaman, he thought.

Still, he didn’t abandon hope, and still he fought as hard as ever.
But then the Orc Shaman started gesturing, strange, guttural words coming out of his mouth, and James, the only one who knew how dangerous magic could be, knew of their doom.
As the Shaman’s chanting culminated, a Warhammer flew through the air to hit it square in the chest, while the cry of “TEM-PUS” reverberated over the battlefield.
Then what seemed like a lightning bolt flew in to hit the still spinning body, as the hammer fell to the ground, coring through to hit an Orc behind, killing it in an explosion of energy.
As the new Orcs looked around in disarray, an enormous Panther jumped in the middle of the group, burying a few of them under its great body, biting the head off the nearest Orc.
A small armored form, wearing a one-horned helmet, came crashing out of the forest, cursing and swearing, its Battle-axe swinging wildly around, cleaving Orc body parts with each swipe.
Then another Orc seemed to be thrown over its companions, and someone who looked at first to James like a small giant, at least seven feet tall, lifted another Orc by the collar while his right hand was extended over head, the big Warhammer magically appearing in hit from where it had been resting on the ground, and then it came down, smashing the creature’s head flat, its lifeless body falling on the ground.
Then a lithe dark form came in, wielding twin curved blades, and went in the Orcs with wild abandon, his weapons like two extensions of his own arms.
The dark one seemed to be dancing, his moves pure beauty, yet there was no mistake his dance was one of death, his lavender eyes shining brightly under his cape’s cowl.
James saw the Orcs his team had been fighting lose all remaining courage, and the MACOs started cutting them down again.

The cavalry had arrived.

[Khas]

Lemme guess, Drizzt Do'Urden?

[Praeothmin]

Wow, you're good...

;)

[sonofccn]

Well I humbly admit to my earlier conjecture being wrong. That said go Hudson! And Boomer! Orc killing goodness!

[Praeothmin]

Another update, an exposition talkie...

Chapter 61

When the Orcs started their retreat, James signalled to Hudson and Hicks to stop firing and let them go, as he was sure this wasn’t the only battle they’d be waging in the days to come, and his men needed to conserve their ammo, not knowing where they could make some more, and even more importantly, how.
It seemed that the new group’s range fighter didn’t have that issue, though, as silver streaked projectile after silver streaked projectile rained down on the retreating Orcs as if the supply was unlimited.
While keeping an eye on the newcomers, James signalled to his team to come closer to the caravan.
He posted Hicks as lookouts on the lead wagon with Hudson assigned to bolt retrieval, sent Riddick back out scouting to ensure no other group of Orcs would come back to attack and surprise them, while he and Doc, with the help of Kyra and Boomer, would look after the injured caravan people.
Presentations could wait, he decided.
He was agreeably surprised when he saw that the tall man who had rallied his troops and protected the women and children of the caravan was still alive.
The spear had gone through his lower torso, apparently not hitting anything vital even though it had taken him out of the fight.
He was the most seriously injured of the group, still, and so James went to him immediately to treat his wounds as best he could, considering the equipment he had at his disposal: primitive looking clamps, pincers, and sterile cloth that acted as gauze, and some healing salve the ship’s replicator had created based on original north American native recipe, made from common plants they should be able to find where they were.
Doc and he had learned how to make that salve while on the ship, and they had tested it in Sickbay with Doctor Numor’s permission.
It had shown remarkable healing properties, though it was, of course, nothing compared to a good old Dermal Regenerator’s performance.
While James did come from a world where Starfleet’s medical technology was still a utopia, it was still ages in advance of what they had now.
And so he went to work.
He knew he couldn’t push the entire length of the spear out the back, and definitely couldn’t pull it out, as the spear head would do infinitely more damage coming out as it had going in.
So he grabbed the spear shaft in his left hand to stabilize it, and then grabbed it also with his right hand, placing it so that his right thumb was upwards and not wrapped over his other fingers.
Using both hands as stabilizers, he pushed on the shaft with his thumb, snapping it within seconds without causing the spear to move.
He then gently pushed the spear out the back of the injured man, and then moved as fast as he could to stem the blood flow.
After a few minutes, the man was stabilized and breathing regularly.

“Thank you for saving him… and us!” A woman told him, coming closer to look over the tall man.
“Mick would thank you as well if he could.” She said, indicating the injured man.

“Glad we could help.” James told her, before moving on to check the other injured members of the caravan.
He was done looking over the injuries of the last one, a caravan guard who had taken a spear in the thigh, when he heard a voice from behind him.
He had known there was someone there, his enhanced hearing having warned him, and had even guessed at the identity of the person from the noise made during the approach, and the short steps taken by that person.
He had guessed right.

“A warrior, and a healer!” The one-horned helmeted Dwarf told James with a thick brogue accent reminding James of a Scottish runner he’d once met.
“Well met, stranger! It is mighty good fortune for these folks ‘ere that you an’ your warriors have arrived so, else there’d a lot more bodies an’ a lot more mournin’ ta be done, don’t ye doubt.” He said, apparently pleased.

The Dwarf was tall for one of his race, with broad shoulders and a barrel chest, and showed Wild red hair and beard, and from his face, a large hawk-like, pointy nose.
James took the Dwarf’s offered hand in his own, to the Dwarf’s surprise, and shook it.
The Dwarf looked at him curiously, but then continued.

“Me name’s Bruenor Battlehammer, leader o’ Mithral Hall, and these be my companions.” He said, indicating the ones who had fought besides him.
“An’ who might ye be, stranger?” He asked with a twinkle in his eyes.

“Well met, Sir Battlehammer, I am James Reynolds, leader of these warriors.” He said, his arm sweep indicating his team.

“Bruenor will suffice, me friend.” He said with a smile.

The Dwarf turned around then, and addressed the dark one, his features still half hidden under his cowl.
James used his Low-Light vision to pierce the darkness, believing this one to hide his features because of a disfigurement of some sort, but to his surprise, what he saw was a man, with very sharp, beautiful angular features, skin the color of pure ebony, reminding him of his world’s Dark Elves, only furless, but his cowl hid the man’s ears well so James could not ascertain if he was indeed facing an Elf.

“Git yerself in the forrest, Elf, and make sure we don’t have any other Orcs coming our way.” He told him.
“And make sure yer durned cat doesn’t mistake our new friend’s scout fer an enemy.” He added, James unable to say if he was serious or not.

Then, like James had done earlier to the MACOs, Bruenor gave his orders to his companions.
The human giant, who had blond long hair with clear blue eyes, broad, muscular shoulders with a narrow waist, with arms and legs as thick as tree trunks – a taller version of James- was sent to the rear of the caravan to stand guard, his hammer resting comfortably on his shoulder.

“Let not a one of these dogs near us, me boy, an’ let any who come close get a taste o’ that hammer of yours.” He told him, his only reply a grim-faced nod from the man.

He turned to James again, his thumb hooked towards the human giant.

“That’s me boy, Wulfgar.” He told an incredulous James.

He then turned to the woods, looking at the tree line a few dozen paces farther at the back of the caravan.

“Lassie,” He said, though James knew not who he was talking to at the moment, “Get on the top o’ the last wagon and help the crossbowman with his guardin’, will ya?”

The rustling of a few leaves was the only announcement to the apparition of a beautiful woman, not much older than James, with thick Auburn hair and sky-blue eyes, wearing a light chain shirt and wielding what looked like a longbow.
She was barely taller than Kyra, yet her shape was fuller, rounder, though James was certain the armor covered more muscle than fat, and the way she walked let him know she was every bit the warrior Kyra was.
Again, he turned to James, thumb pointing at the woman this time.

“Me girl, Catti-Brie.”

This time, the Dwarf could not miss James look, for he grinned, and added:
“They’re adopted, o’ course.
Both their parents died in wars, an’ me heart just couldn’t leave them homeless.”

James nodded, understanding who this Dwarf was a bit more.

“An’ the dark one’s name be Drizzt Do’Urden, the ranger.” He added.
“Where might ye be from, and how did ye find yerselves in our region?” He asked with genuine curiosity.

“We are mercenaries from a far off land, come in search of adventure.” He answered.

James hoped his explanation might offset any slip of the tongue or lack of proper knowledge of the customs of this land.

“Aye, far off indeed, laddie, for no’ battin’ an eyelash at the sight o’ a Drow Elf.” Bruenor told him, nodding in direction of the dark one’s disappearance.
James mentally sighed, but he tried to cover his blunder with a truth he felt should be appropriate.

“Well, the land I come from has many different races living side by side, and so unusual sightings such as this one isn’t uncommon, nor are Dwarves travelling with humans.
This is why I thought nothing wrong with your dark friend being here.” He added, satisfied he had covered his mishap a bit.
The Dwarf lifted an eyebrow at James.

“Really now?
Tell me, stranger, what name has the land that accepts Drow Elves along any other race?
Will ye tell me Orcs are also runnin’ free there, equal in stature with all other races?”

Again, truth helped James answer the Dwarf.

“Orcs do indeed live in my land, named Seattle, though they are not as savage as these ones here, and are not as welcomed everywhere.
As for Dark Elves, they are treated a bit like the Orcs, tolerated if not fully accepted by all.”

He hoped his explanation would satisfy the curious Dwarf, and while he could see the Dwarf did not accept everything he said at face value, he knew it would do for now.
Hoping to change the subject, and realizing he hadn’t done it yet, he decided to present his team to the Dwarf.

“You’ve made presentations, allow me to do the same.
The one still treating the caravaners’ wounds is my team’s healer, Doc.
The two ladies helping him are Boomer, and Kyra.
Our two crossbowmen, Hicks, on the wagon, and Hudson in bolt recovery duty.
And our main scout, Riddick.”

“He fights rather well for a scout.” The giant human, Wulfgar, said with his deep basso voice.

“So does yours.” James replied with a smile, which brought one to the man’s face, as well as a nod.
“There are many injured people here,” James said, turning back to Bruenor, “And at least one, their leader, who cannot be moved yet, as his condition is bad.”

“Bah, but don’t ye worry about that.” Bruenor told James.
“I’ve got a small contingent o’ Dwarves coming this way with a team o’ healers that’ll take care o’ the people here.
We’ll get them movin’ soon, don’t ye doubt.
We’ll just have to guard them in the meantime.” He finished.

He looked at the battlefield and the carnage it showed, with some apparent satisfaction.

“Ye’re mercenaries, ye say?” He asked James, who nodded in answer.
“An’ is it usual where you come from for mercenaries ta save people from Orcs afore ye been paid?” He added, his eyes suddenly taking on what James could only consider as a threatening look.
“Or is that your way o’ werkin’?
Savin’ people’s lives an’ then requestin’ payment or else?” He finished, his hand slowly going down to his axe handle.

Both the MACOs and the Dwarf’s companions tensed, fearing a confrontation, getting ready for another fight, much sooner then either group had anticipated.
James did not step back, did not even reach for his sword.
He simply lifted his arms as a sign of surrender, shaking his head slowly.

“No, Bruenor, it is not.
It saddens me if you truly believe that about us, good Dwarf.
There are mercenaries who still fight for good causes, who still defend the weak, without hope of pay.” He told the Dwarf in all honesty.
“As soon as your reinforcements arrive, if you so wish, we can be on our way.” He said, saddened that the first contact was under the auspice of suspicion.

But he couldn’t fault Bruenor, as he knew the Dwarf had understood James had not been fully honest with him, and he understood that in this world, just as in his own, such cruelty existed.
He realized how easy it had been for him to adapt to the Federation way of life, to its ideals where one helped another simply because he could, and never for personal gain.
He’d almost forgotten how much his world, though more advanced technologically, was just as savage as this one.

“I believe him, good friend.” A voice said from less than two meters behind him, a voice James devised was the dark one’s.

James was impressed at this Elf, Drizzt, at how good he was, for he had been able to approach him from behind and get as close as Riddick had without James knowing he was there.
Although he felt it shouldn’t surprise him after seeing him in action.
His lightness of steps during the deadly blade dance he had woven had indicated surety of step and lightness to match anyone in stealth.
James turned slightly to look at the approaching Elf.

“There are no more Orcs,” Drizzt told the Dwarf.

He looked at James, then looked back at Bruenor.

“Look around you, my friend.” He said.
“Look at the damage they inflicted upon the Orcs, the swath of destruction they wove into the Orkish ranks, look at the way they attacked when we arrived, mercilessly, heedless of any danger to themselves.
And after the fight, their immediate concern was for the welfare of the surviving members of the caravan, as was ours.
These are not the actions of simple mercenaries, fighting only for profit.
He hasn’t told us the whole truth of who he and his friends are, but his biggest lie is the one where he presented himself as a Mercenary.” He said, looking at James.
“I would have pegged him as a Paladin, had it not been for his lies, but now, I do not know what to make of him.”

“Jest how much did ye hear, Elf?” Bruenor asked his friend.
“Did ye actually patrol, or did ye simply send yer cat?”

Drizzt looked at his friend, a smile on his face.

“Does it matter?” He said, looking again at James, almost through him, those piercing lavender eyes alight with an inner fire James had rarely seen in a person.

“Alright then, ye do speak sense.” The Dwarf told his friend.
He turned to James.
“I may owe ye an apology, but ye’ll only get it once I know exactly what ye’re about, me big friend.
Now, there’s work ta be done.
We need ta burn these Orc carcasses so their smell won’t bring in any nasties on us.
Then we need ta repair these wagons so they be road worthy for when me kinsmen arrive.”

And so they started working, cleaning the battlefield, repairing the wagons that had been damaged.
James used that opportunity, working closely with the caravan members, to learn about Bruenor and his friends.
He quickly picked up on what Bruenor had told him about Drow Elves, though, when he watched people’s reactions to Drizzt.
The Elf was simply patrolling, his giant black panther nowhere to be seen, his weapons sheathed, walking in a non-threatening way, yet still people shun him, some turning away when he neared them, some looking at him with open contempt.
James could not understand why people would treat him such, when he’d shown himself such a nice person, and had risked his life to save them, but what he understood even less was the Elf’s reaction to all of it.
Where James would have certainly insulted a few of them, he knew Riddick would have most likely confronted the more arrogant ones, Drizzt simply continued on his way, as stoic as one could be, as if none of it touched him.
He seemed at peace, yet James understood how imperfect that inner peace was when it cracked.
The crack did not appear due to a particularly mean insult, or a physical attack.
The crack appeared when the caravan’s leader, the tall man –Mick LePier James had learned his name was- had gotten up, badly injured as he was, and with the help of another man, a young man, perhaps his son, he had walked over to Drizzt, and had said two simple words: “Thank you!”
With those words, and the extension of his hand, James noticed the crack in the Elf’s inner peace, a crack that had manifested itself in a smile, genuine, full of warmth.
After accepting the man’s hand, and helping him back to his campfire, the Elf’s steps had been lighter, his rounds made with renewed vigour.
He wanted to know why Dark Elves were so reviled, but feared that asking anyone would raise even more suspicions on his group, so he decided he’d wait for another time.
Still he learned much about the group, these companions of the Hall, as they were known.
Their name came from their residing place, a Dwarven stronghold called Mithral Hall –now surrounded by an army of Orcs-, of which Bruenor was no simple commander, as he had said, but the actual King.
This group was renowned as heroes throughout this territory, and their reputation, it was said, was know far beyond the mountain range where they resided.
He heard about Drizzt, how he had renounced his people’s evil ways to become a famed Ranger, a protector of the innocent, of Wulfgar, mighty Barbarian, wielder of the Warhammer Aegis-Fang, of Catti-Brie, she who made use of her mighty bow in battles.
Watching the companions closely, how they interacted with the caravan members, and each other, James realized much of the stories he heard had to be true.
And so he knew he could trust them, which made him decide to eventually tell them a bit more of the truth.
Later, he decided.

More importantly, James learned of the plight of the people, of the invading Orc army who, unlike previous armies, had not eventually folded on itself, had not crumbled under warring Chieftains, each vying for supremacy.
He heard of King Obould Many-Arrows, the powerful Orc King, who held all tribes together under his rule.

Finally, James knew why he was there.

[Admiral Breetai]

James gets tugged along realities...being forced to do odd jobs but man what an epic story

Hudsons hilarious

[sonofccn]

In other news Orc Lord Many-Arrows felt a cold shiver run down his spine and commenced talks of taking a long overdue vacation. ;)

Good update.