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

[Admiral Breetai]

simply put..fan fucking tastic..if you guys ever do Vi'retess vs picard vs Tyler or krevin I'd be confident ya'd out do me on my own character lol

the action sequences have been fantastic James is doing what he does best and this verse has offered him some interesting fights

keep it up! This brought me outta action!

[Praeothmin]

Chapter 70

It was difficult at first for James to convince them he was on their side, as the Dwarves could hardly believe a single human knight had beaten two Drow, including a priestess of Llolth, and had defeated two Giants.
But a quick investigation of the battle on the ledge and the chasm, linking the bolts that had killed the Giant to the weapon James was now holding had them believing that, if he wasn’t an ally, he was at least not an enemy.
Once their wounded had been tended for, and their dead buried under rocks with a quick ceremony celebrating their lives, the Dwarves, nearly half of their force decimated, prepared to resume their mountain patrol.
James asked why they were not simply turning back to regroup with the main Dwarven forces, thinking it more prudent, since they had lost half their unit.
Their answer outlined their determination and courage.

“Well, wit’ yer help, we’ve cleared these mountains o’ the Giants an’ their leader, Obould’s most powerful allies, so the only forces we need ta fear now are the Orcs.
An’ franckly, they’re gonna’ need one hell of an army to defeat us.
No, me friend, our orders come from King Bruenor hisself.
We’re ta clear these mountains o’ any Orcs we encounter.”

James’s hopes shot up at the mention of the Dwarven King.

“Bruenor?
You’ve seen him recently?
He gave you these orders recently?”

“Aye, indeed he did.
Why d’ye be askin’?” The Dwarf Captain queried, suspicion in his eyes.

“I wanted to know how he was faring, my Dwarven friend.
Did all the Companions of the Hall make it?
Were they accompanied by others?” James asked, full of hope his friends had made it.

“Aye, me friend, King Bruenor” The Dwarf began, putting emphasis on the word King “made it back to tha main forces, along with his Drow companion an’ our young human family members.”

The Dwarven Captain’s look suddenly became pensive, and then took on a wily appearance.

“An’ he was indeed accompanied by ten human warriors, their leader named Bernt.”

He looked at James expectantly, the big MACO leader knowing exactly what he was doing.
It was a simple enough test, one James knew he’d pass very easily.

“Actually, unless they met other humans on their way, the group that was with them only counted six humans, two females, Boomer and Kyra, and four males, Riddick, Hicks, Hudson and Doc, and their leader is currently missing.
His name is James Reynolds, and I know that because I’m James Reynolds.” He finished with a smile.

The Dwarven Captain’s look changed to one of satisfaction and he began nodding, and James knew he now had the Dwarf’s trust.

“That would explain the dead Giants an’ vanquished Drows a lot better now.” He said.
“Bruenor told us about ye and yer exploits, how ye lifted an ugly Ogre above yer head rather easily, and how ye killed two o’ the beasts mighty fast.
But he feared ye’d been killed by the Giant’s boulder when ye were crossin’ tha river.
Glad he will be, as will your friends, when they see you alive an’ well.
An’ glad will you likely be to know that they be faring well also, all o’ them.” He told James.
“Ye can reach them quickly by going back tha way we came, as they’re only a couple o’ hours walk away.
Now, if you’ll excuse us, we haf’ta be on our way.
We’re bringin’ yer Drow friend prisoner, if ye don’t mind.
He may possess important information on the forces we may find in these mountains.” The Dwarven Captain told James.
The big MACO leader knew, though, that the Dwarf wasn’t truly asking for his permission, and was simply informing him out of respect.
“May Moradin bless ye, me friend, and may ye kill many more Ogres and smelly Orcs on yer travels.”

James looked at them leave, and turned around to do the same, but then stopped in his tracks.
He had just heard the confirmation that the Giants were allied with the Orcs, and had been told that the female Giant was the leader of the Giants living in the mountains.
And James had killed her, and with the Dwarven force that had just left, he had deprived King Obould of his most powerful ally.
He knew then the best chance he had of ending the war with a lesser death toll was within his grasp.
He went to the female Giant’s prone form and detached her cloak from her shoulders.
Using the fine Drow sword, he cut the Giant’s head off, and wrapped it in the cloak.
He didn’t feel too good about desecrating the body of a sentient being, but he believed the Giant leader’s head would be a major asset in his upcoming meeting with the Orc King.
Once the grisly job was performed, he turned around and followed the trail the Dwarf Captain had indicated with all speeds, his superior agility helping him navigate the treacherous path back to his friends.
He progressed with a quick pace for many hours, resting only when necessary, and was soon following a flatter path going into the forest, letting him know he was back on the plains bisected by the river Surbrin.
As he made his way through the thick woods, his ears picked up a deep rumbling sound up ahead, as if mighty thunder was roiling over the plains.
He increased his pace, the noise getting louder almost every step, yet the more he advanced towards what he felt was the forest’s edge, the clearer the sound became, displaying less and less similarity with thunder.
James clearly discerned what he knew to be very numerous footsteps, rapidly making their way across the plain, the metallic noise of armor plates and weapons banging together making itself heard as well.
He reached the edge of the forest, advancing cautiously through the brush, when a sense of dread enveloped him.
For looking out at the northern plains of the Surbrin, he saw majestic forces arrayed against one another.
On one side, he saw the Orcs, Ogres and Giants, inexorably advancing towards the other force, comprised of the Dwarves and some humans.
A quick glance had him peg the number of soldiers in the thousands, preparing for a clash which would claim the lives of many sentient beings, and James had appeared right at the junction point of the two forces.
He was quickly noticed by both forces, eliciting shouts of joy from one camp while the other, slowly understanding this was most likely the human described by the surviving members of the ill-fated Orc patrols, began to loudly jeer this human Knight they associated with the hated Companions of the Hall.
He ran as fast as he could towards the Dwarven army as the closest Orcs readied themselves to throw their spears at him.
As they were ready to let their spears fly, they realized the big human was no longer within range, his speed surprising them all.
They began to understand why this human had been feared so much by the surviving patrol members, almost eclipsing their fear of their great King.
A wayward boulder slammed down hard on the ground behind James, its momentum almost allowing it to impact the MACO leader’s legs, but the human’s great speed kept it ahead of the danger, the boulder coming to a stop as James reached the Dwarven forces, a hundred meters away.

His friends and colleagues were happy to see him, Hudson even slapping Hicks on the shoulder saying “Told ‘ya they couldn’t kill him, they ain’t tough enough!”, but the situation precluded them from long welcomes, as they were about wage war with forces determined to eradicate them.
James, reunited with his team, took his place at the front of the Dwarven forces, slightly behind King Bruenor and his friends, as the Dwarves stopped their advance.

Strangely enough, the Orc forces also stopped when James had expected them to simply start running in an unruly charge, less than two hundred meters from their enemies.
Looking at them carefully, he understood the reason for their orderly behaviour.
King Obould had signalled for his forces to stop, and the rare Orc that did not obey immediately suffered a withering glare from its ruler, cowering it into submission and instant obedience.
Even the Giants, creatures that clearly held themselves above such lowly creatures as Orcs, respected Obould’s orders as if given by their very own leader.
James’ assessment of the Orc King went up, knowing how dangerous these creatures were, leading him to believe the opposing leader was at least as dangerous as he.

After some tense moments where both sides studied the other, ready to do battle at the drop of a hat, the Orc King, accompanied only by two Orcs clad in strange robes, advanced towards the Dwarves, no one else from his side daring to follow.
Obould was impressive in his dark armor, his helmet’s visor plate reflecting light, obscuring his features from James’s scrutiny.
From his back protruded the richly decorated hilt of an impressively sized Greatsword.
His companions were almost unnoticed, not having the sheer physical presence of their leader.
Obould covered almost half the distance separating the two forces, and then stopped.
Taking off his helm, his fierce visage full of pride, he called out to the Dwarven forces standing in front of him.

“I would have words with your leader,” He said, “If he has the courage to come and meet me in the open.” He finished with a sneer.

Bruenor balked at that remark, and even though all in attendance knew Obould was simply baiting the Dwarf King, they knew just as well the length of the Dwarf’s temper.
Nostrils flaring, Bruenor started towards the Great Orc King, mumbling under his beard “I’ll have words with ye, ye big oaf, I’ll shove ‘em up yer arse, is what I’ll do, or I’m a bearded Gnome.”

Drizzt and Wulfgar started to follow their friend when James stopped the big Barbarian with an outstretched hand.

“I’ll go with him,” He told the human giant.
“I have something that might shake our Orc friend.” He added with a smile.

The Barbarian looked at Drizzt, his most trusted friend, who only nodded.

“Go, and make sure nothing happens to them.” He told James with his deep voice.

James gave him a quick nod, and after a slap on the shoulder, he turned around and along with the Dark Elf, caught up to Bruenor, the Dwarf walking as fast as his short legs allowed.
The Dwarf King stopped ten meters away from his opponent, but his posture clearly showed all he wanted to do was to run up to the Orc and start chopping off body parts using his many-notched axe.

“What d’ye want, ya smelly arse?” He asked Obould callously.

If the Orc King was insulted, he did not let it show.

“What I want, little King,” The Orc said derisively, “Is to see if you have courage to match your mouth.
If our forces do battle,” Obould began, “We would invariably win, having the more powerful forces, but our losses would be great, our newly acquired Kingdom unable to properly defend itself.
But If I defeat you in single combat, with the loser yielding the Surbrin plain to the victor, then my Kingdom will be great and powerful, able to defend itself.” He finished with a smile.

His calm demeanor and insults were grating on the Dwarf King’s nerves, which James understood was the ploy.
Looking at Drizzt, he saw the Dark Elf also knew, the Drow sneaking a calming hand on the Dwarf’s shoulder.

“Ye smelly bastard, I’ll give ye yer fight, alright, and then I’ll shove yer severed head up your arse, ye donkey lovin’, horse rapin’, varmint eatin’ son of dung heap.” The Dwarf King, full of indignant steam, replied to the Orc King.

James didn’t like what he was hearing, for even though he knew Bruenor to be an excellent warrior, he was certain that Obould, seemingly so different from his unruly brethren, was more than the Dwarf King could handle, and a quick glance at their Drow companion confirmed Drizzt’s thoughts mirrored his own.
He knew he had to think of a way to confront the Orc leader himself.

“Before you fight King Bruenor, oh mighty Obould,” James began, purposely omitting the Orc’s title, “I think you might consider confronting someone else, as, shall we say, a training session?”

King Obould knew exactly what James was trying to do, James realising how intelligent he was, and would have none of it.
While the King might believe he was capable of defeating this human Knight that had torn his troops to pieces, he knew -the MACO leader could see in his eyes- that he was capable of utterly defeating the Dwarven King.

As Obould turned around to shout at his troops, surely announcing he was going to face the Dwarven King in single combat, James quickly mouthed “trust me” at Bruenor, and then turned around.

“Is King Obould a coward?” He yelled at the assembled Orc troops.
“He refuses to face me in single combat, I who vanquished two of his Drow associates, as the two swords at my waist prove.”

Obould turned around, livid, his lips trembling, and he took a step forward towards James, but then he quickly recomposed himself, and replied loudly.

“This type of boast his typical of feeble hu-mons,” He began, “Trying to ascend to the level of Gods, trying to gain some glory by being killed by one such as I, King Obould Many-Arrows, Exarch of Gruumsh.”

The Orcs bellowed at this claim, the chanting of “Gruumsh “, “Gruumsh”, “Gruumsh” being heard from the assembled forces.

“Tell me, hu-mon,” Obould continued, gaining momentum from the chanting, “Why should I believe you actually defeated the Drow who’s weapons you wear instead of pilfering his corpse after more powerful foes defeated him?”

James had been unclasping his make-shift backpack at his words, and plunged his hand inside, to take it out and raise it, taking a step to the side so all the Orcs could see, as he answered.

“Because I used them to cut off mighty Gerti’s head from her body!” He claimed loud and clear, the disclosed head of the Giant’s leader shocking all who witnessed its unveiling, even James’s allies.
“Is King Obould afraid of facing the one who defeated his allies, will he not show respect to her by defeating the one who killed her?” He added, the last part aimed at the Giants he was certain were outraged.
Obould was trapped, and he knew it.
To ignore James now would be to lend credence to the human’s claims of cowardice from the Orc leader, and to alienate his Giant allies by not avenging their fallen leader.
With a gaze filled with hatred and rage, Obould turned to his troops, announcing exactly what James had wanted.

“I will face this hu-mon in combat, and I will take his head as a trophy, after which I will do the same to the Dwarf King!” He proclaimed, loud cheers erupting from his troops.

He turned back to James, and as he set his helmet on his head, he said:
“I will make you suffer for calling me a coward and trying to make me lose face.
Your death will be slow and excruciatingly painful.”

James dropped the Giantesse’s head on the ground and took out one of his swords and setting himself in a fighting stance as the big Orc took out his Greatsword.

“I’ll make yours fast!” He told the Orc King.

As the Orc leader advanced on the MACO leader, the Greatsword’s blade erupted in fire.

[sonofccn]

Verilly upon that dark time, that eve of hallowed battle that which would tear asunder thy very realm, did the exalted James doeth make his appearence. He who slew the cold hearted Cylons, laid waste that of the voracious Xenomorph Queen and her vile brood, took the life-force of Sar-Ur-Ion the serpent-warrior and countless other noble deeds. So to did James, saver of worlds, descend upon our hour of mortal need and lay challenge to the grotesque Orc-Despot Obould, he of deeds innumerable and undescribable, so that he might remove thy blight from our lands...

Or in other words nice. ;)

From the looks of things this should be one helluva fight,a virtual demi-god vs another in a battle that shall shake the world or at least the local geo-political region.

[Praeothmin]

Well, here it is...

I hope you guys aren't too disappointed... ;)

Chapter 71

The Orc King was fast for a creature its size, perhaps as fast as Drizzt, and almost surprised James with his speed.
But the MACO leader’s reflexes, honed to perfection after years of battle, increased to superhuman levels with the addition of Bioware, was already on the defensive when Obould struck.
He moved as if to stab James in the face, since the big human had no helm protecting his head, but at the last instant, as James was simply stepping back from the hit, the big Orc brought his sword up and down again, going for a simple side-cleaving motion, from his right to his left, the blade going at James waist-high.
James understood the first attack had been performed in the hopes that the flaming blade would partially blind the Orc King’s opponent, unaware that James’s Flare Compensators protected him from these attacks.
The MACO leader jumped over the swinging Greatsword while imparting a horizontal twist to his body, his right hand flashing out twice during his spin to hit Obould’s right arm, sparks erupting from each heavy hit.
When he landed, James went into a twist once more that brought him to Obould’s back, striking the Orc King’s side as he went by, again the impact producing a shower of sparks.
He kicked at the back of his opponent’s right knee to bring him down and attack his neck, but while the powerful kick did force the Orc King to bend his leg, the creature sent his upper body forward, imparting momentum to his body while putting his weight on his left leg and turning around to his right while reversing his weapon’s swing, bringing it back in a sidelong cleave the James had to block with a two-handed grip on his sword.
The two opponents separated, both looking at each other with newfound respect, the Orc King’s face betraying his surprise that his opponent could match his speed and power.
James examined his opponent to see the effects his attacks had had.
He saw no blood on the Orc King’s arm, only noticing two long scratches where his blade had landed.
He didn’t need to see the back of the Orc’s armor to know it was also undamaged.
The MACO leader could not believe it.
His most powerful blows had been turned away by the Orc King’s armor, blows that should have deeply penetrated even tampered steel, blows that would have penetrated James’s own armor easily.
The large Orc smiled at James, showing he had noticed the man’s glances at his arm.

“I will not be so easily vanquished, hu-mon.” The Orc King said.
“You may find your promise of a quick victory to be denied, after all.” He finished, a large grin appearing on his face.

And so they went at it with abandon, the big human warrior and the huge Orc King, both faster and stronger than most humanoids had any right to be, striking and evading and blocking the other’s attacks.
This went on for almost an hour, both warriors possessing endurance far beyond that of mortal men.
The big Orc, even though his opponent was faster, fully confident in his armor’s capacity to absorb even the mightiest blow from his opponent, still showed no restraints in his attacks, accepting what would normally have been mortal blows in order to deliver some of his own, and so after an hour of combat, while the Orc’s armor showed hundreds of strike marks, the only indication that Obould had been in the fight was his heavy breathing, showing the big creature was winded.
James, however, was not so lucky.
While his armor was as good as any, made from the finest of steel, and his ability to evade killing blows was astonishing, the Orc’s powerful blows were not so easily shrugged off.
After an hour of fighting, his armor was in shambles, he was bleeding from many wounds that, while his enhanced metabolism and the cauterizing effect of the Orc King’s Greatsword keeping the bleeding to a minimum, were still having a toll on the MACO leader.
His first sword was on the ground, the blade completely dulled from the impacts on the Orc’s armor, and now his second Drow sword was losing its edge as well.
Obould came at James with an overhead swing that would have cleaved the man in two had it connected.
The big human evaded the blow with a spin to his left, his sword impacting the Orc’s weapon with a loud resounding sound, deflecting the blow slightly farther to the man’s right.
Continuing his spin, James brought his weapon up in a mighty side swipe that impacted the Orc King’s helmet in a new shower of sparks, and James knew that even though the weapon had not penetrated the creature’s protection, the hit had registered for Obould, while reversing his Greatsword’s momentum in a weaker –for him- sidelong swing, shook his head as if to clear his mind.
James found some hope in that reaction, for it told him that even encased in his impervious armor, Obould was still feeling the hits.
The MACO leader stepped under the reversed swing, popped up in front of the Orc and brought his sword down in a powerful strike, once again hitting Obould’s armored head.
As The Orc King set his left leg back a step in order to begin a forward swing, roaring in outrage, James elected to simply plunge to his opponent’s left in a tuck and roll that brought him at Obould’s back, turning and striking mightily at the back of the big Orc’s leg, snapping his weakened sword in the process.
Not wasting any time in contemplation of his precarious situation, the big human delivered a stunning sweeping kick at the Orc King’s leg which lifted the creature’s appendage in the air and dropped Obould on his back.
He could not take advantage of this assault, however, as the falling Orc swung his Greatsword at James in an overhead attack as he was still in the air and landing on his back.
James took a small step back, the sword passing so close he felt the heat of the weapon even through his thickened skin.
Before he could pounce on the prone would-be God, Obould lifted a leg and kicked him in the back, propelling James over the rising Greatsword that connected with his right thigh.
While the blow wasn’t very powerful for the Orc, it still delivered great force to James’s armor, and his weakened cuisse was ripped from him as he was landing in a roll which brought him a few steps away from his big opponent.

The fear that had made its presence felt during the battle as more and more of James’s blows were proven ineffective and as more and more of Obould’s connected, was now blossoming into full grown panic.
James felt any remaining hope leave him as he examined his situation, unarmed, with almost no remaining armor, facing an opponent who could not be injured.
His mind raced back to his fight against the Sangheili Commander he had fought against, an inner voice reminding him he had beaten the seemingly invulnerable opponent then.
But his conscious mind reminded him that the Sangheili Commander was not wearing an impregnable armor then, and could be hurt.
Under the inevitable defeat, James’s shoulders sagged.
While he knew he would continue to put up a fight, hoping that anything he did to the Orc King would help Bruenor, might allow the Dwarven leader to defeat the would-be God, he knew, in the back of his head, that Obould would defeat Bruenor as soon as he had killed James.
The only thing he could do was to go out as fiercely as possible, and make the huge Orc pay for every hit scored.

Obould got up as quickly as he could, knowing his opponent, though now unarmed, could still be dangerous.
He had felt the impacts of James’s blows and was grateful for his armor’s impregnability, for he had found an opponent worthy of his might, the first of such since he had become an Exarch of his God, Gruumsh.
The human in front of him seemed to possess strength almost on par with his own, and was certainly the faster of the two.
His stamina was also staggering, for while the human was also winded from the fight, while his wounds and the fatigue were showing some effects, he was still quite formidable, still able to bring the fight to Obould.
And while his armor had bore the brunt of the human’s attack, the Orc King had felt every powerful blow, and his body was feeling sore at many places.
His boasts of taking his time, of toying with his opponent were now clearly that, boasts, and he knew, without a doubt, that had his armor been less resistant, it would be he, Obould Many-Arrows, Exarch of Gruumsh, who would be on the brink of defeat.
Obould did not like that.
As his human opponent looked at him with renewed resolve, the Orc King moved in hoping for a quick kill.

“Would Mighty King Obould, he who calls himself Gruumsh incarnated, cowardly strike down an unarmed foe?” Drizzt’s voice called out loudly so all would hear.
“Is the Mighty Obould so fearful of an opponent that he would not offer him the chance to obtain a new weapon?
Is that the honor that fills King Obould?” Drizzt asked all in attendance.

Obould, preparing a mighty swing that would have cut a boulder in two, froze at those words, as did James.
The two opponents looked at each other for only a heartbeat, before both taking a few hesitant steps back.
Obould was fuming, for once again, the damned Dwarves and his allies had ambushed him with words.
If he killed this unarmed human, he would show himself a savage devoid of honor, and while he knew his Orcs and Ogres would still follow him, any allies, existing or potential, might not, for who would trust a dishonourable leader enough to follow him.
Enemies would never sign any treaties with him, since they would believe him incapable of honouring them.
While he knew the tactic was nothing more than an attempt at delaying the inevitable defeat of their human ally, Obould knew he had to let the human Knight obtain a weapon.

“No!” Obould answered loudly, his powerful voice carrying far on the plains, “King Obould, Exarch of Gruumsh, would not strike an unarmed opponent.
You may offer your friend a replacement weapon.
However, if you try to heal him, to help him in any way, I will strike you down and consider the duel between myself and your King forfeit.” He added venomously.

Drizzt nodded, and from his cape produced a sheathed Longsword, which he threw at James.
The MACO leader caught it and swung it, unsheathing it in the process.
James felt the blade’s perfect balance, the sun glinting off the razor edge of its blade.
But as soon as he had touched it, he had also felt something else, a presence in his mind.
It told James its name was Khazid'hea, that it was their destiny to be united for this sword, a sentient being, had to be wielded by the best warrior alive.
It told him to let go, and allow it to use James’s body to fight the Orc King, which would bring James to immense glory.
It told him that after it slew the Orc King, it would help James slay the Dwarven King as well and would make him the ultimate ruler of the Realms.
All James needed to do was to let himself be controlled by the sword, his body the new vessel for the sword.
The sentient sword tried to insinuate itself deeper in James’s mind, sapping his will with each probing, until, finally, the man erected a wall of pure willpower that stopped the sword’s efforts cold.
To James Reynolds, a man who valued his free will above all, surrendering his to the sword was unacceptable.
He had beaten back mind controlling magic before, and would do it again.
With a raging growl defying all further attempts from the sword to steal his will, denying it so clearly he felt its presence recede to the farthest corners of his mind, James re-asserted full control of his body in time to parry an assault by Obould, the Orc King having jumped at his opponent as soon as he had acquired the sword.
A diagonal sweep from the flaming Greatsword was evaded, an attack designed to take his legs jumped over.
As James landed on the ground behind the seeping sword, he slashed at the Orc’s left forearm and stepped back out of the way of a reversed swing that never came.
Instead, his attacked elicited a surprised yelp of pain from Obould, and when the Orc King also took a step back in a defensive position, James noticed his opponent was bleeding from a small gash at his left forearm.
He flicked his gaze at his new sword and saw blood dripping from the blade, and felt immense satisfaction coming from the presence in his mind.
He looked back at Obould and smiled, his fear ebbing away, replaced by renewed confidence, the fire that was James’s soul rekindled by the sight of the would-be God’s blood.

“I believe we are now back on equal footing, Mighty Obould!” James told the Orc King.
“Let’s finish this, shall we?”

He went at the Orc again, with renewed fury, only this time he was careful, stalking the Orc King, bidding his time, knowing that now, he could wound his opponent, and kill him.
Obould, now wielding his Greatsword with less ease, his left arm injured, tried to overpower his opponent.
He came in with a simple sidelong swing, the same move he had tried in the beginning, without the feint this time.
James, no longer fast enough to jump aside or over it, blocked it with Khazid'hea in a two-handed grip, the effort pushing him back a few feet.
As soon as the attack’s momentum had been depleted, though, James took a small step to his right, towards Obould, and almost casually struck the Orc’s left arm again.
This time, though, the strike was two handed, and the blade penetrated deeply in the Orc King’s forearm.
James thought to strike again, but the blade was stuck in Obould’s armor.
As his opponent lifted his right arm to deliver and overhead strike to James, the big human simply yanked hard on his sword, the blade biting deeper in the wounded Orc’s arm, effectively countering the attack by unbalancing the Orc.
Obould countered by side-kicking James with his left leg, the impact robbing the MACO leader of his breath and propelling him a few meters back.
James rolled with the impact, knowing a few ribs had most likely been cracked by the blow, and got up in time to see Obould running full speed at him, throwing a one-armed swing at James, hoping the speed of his attack would prevent his human opponent from offering an efficient counter.
As the Greatsword was descending at his legs, James took a step to his right side while bringin his sword down for another two-handed parry, elbowing the Orc King in the helmet at the same time.
The big Orc’s head snapped back, and James used the distraction to swipe at his opponent’s exposed flank, created a deep gash at his side, and followed with a swipe at his leg.
Gasping in pain, the Orc went down to one knee as James was about to swing again.
Before he could connect, however, he was lifted off his feet by a powerful impact, feeling as if he had been hit by a massive object, fearing for an instant one of the Giants in Obould’s army had thrown a boulder at him.
As he landed, short of breath, disoriented, he heard Drizzt’s voice over the ringing in his ears.

“If your Clerics intervene again, King Obould, I’ll take their heads and our friends feel free to attack you in retaliation.” The Drow Elf firmly said.

“If they intervene again, I’ll be the one taking their heads.” Obould replied as James was trying to clear his head.

He heard Obould get up, wincing in pain, and slowly approach him.
He got up, and through a blurry vision saw the form of Obould cautiously coming towards him.
His legs were full of cotton and wouldn’t hold him up, his arms felt weak, and his breathing was ragged.
He saw the Orc move, the Greatsword coming at him in a trusting motion, and knew he could not step out of the way fast enough.
He brought Khazid'hea in a circular parry, the blade pointing down, and barely deflected the Greatsword’s path.
As he felt incredible pain shoot through him, similar to when the Alien had impaled him, he reversed the sword’s angle and trust up with all his flagging strength.
New pain shot through his torso as the angle of the Greatsword changed, and as his vision cleared up, as he was surprisingly still standing on his feet, he looked straight into the Orc King’s helm, its visor showing it was empty.
Looking at it closely, he noticed a bloody blade in the helm, where Obould’s head should have been.
He followed its length down and saw Obould’s head, Khazid'hea’s blade protruding from the top of it.
As the great mass of the Orc King slowly fell to the ground, sliding off James’s blade, the Orc’s forces became utterly silent, while the Dwarves erupted in cheers.

James took a few steps towards Drizzt and Bruenor, the Dwarf King too impressed to be angry at him anymore, and he fell in their supporting arms.

[sonofccn]

“Would Mighty King Obould, he who calls himself Gruumsh incarnated, cowardly strike down an unarmed foe?” Drizzt’s voice called out loudly so all would hear.
“Is the Mighty Obould so fearful of an opponent that he would not offer him the chance to obtain a new weapon?
Is that the honor that fills King Obould?” Drizzt asked all in attendance.

Yes. For appearance I've found it to be advantageous to offer your opponent to yield, sparing his life if he admits defeat, and shift the burden to his stubbornness but in the end such battles should be swift and final and in my experiance disarming/disabling your opponent is the fastest means to ensure this and keep your hide intact. Failing that be sure it is you, by one means or another, who picks his replacement weapon

And Obould joins the long list of people who refused to respect James in another beatiful fight scene, his foul tryanny laid to rest by James the Chosen and the magik sword Khazid'hea, potentionally demon infested, as all other evil has before him.

[Praeothmin]

Chapter 72

In his barely conscious state it took him a few moments to register the words being delivered loudly to all in attendance, and it took him a few moments more to recognize the voice delivering the words as Bruenor’s.

“…not been able ta kick yer’s leader’s arse in combat, this man’s victory is jest as valid as me own.” The Dwarf King claimed at the Orcs over jeering that gained in power as he went on.
“Ye can respect yer leader’s word and depart, or ye can stay an’ fight, but either way, we’ll make sure yer smelly arses will be back in yer mountain holes afore tonight or I’m a bearded Gnome.” Bruenor added.
“So it’s yer choice, Orcs, ye leave, or we make ye leave.
Choose fast, afore our patience runs out.” The Dwarven leader finished.

His Dark Elf companion seemed surprised at his friend’s words, for he was certain the Dwarf King knew how provoking his words had been, and indeed, looking at the stocky Dwarf, an eager smile clearly displayed on his bearded face, the Drow knew the second option was the preferred one in his friend’s mind.
And looking at the Orc’s response, heated insults thrown at the Dwarven leader, Frost Giants making their way at the head of the enemy forces, Drizzt knew with great certainty what that answer would be.
As the Clerics who had been Obould’s escort were about to answer, their calm demeanour indicating they preferred the peaceful option, the Orc forces charged.
The Dwarven King, signalling his forces to attack, ran at the two Clerics as they began casting, knowing their doom was upon them, caused by the inability of their brethren to comprehend they had lost the moment Obould had died at the hands of the massive human Knight.
One of the Clerics aimed his most potent offensive spell at the Dark Elf and their King’s killer, while the other aimed his at the incoming Dwarven warrior.
Neither successfully completed their spells, as the first Cleric was blasted back by the impact of a magical Alchemical arrow fired from Taulmaril, Catti-Brie’s lethal bow, and as the second one was culminating in his casting he was tackled by an enraged Dwarven King, who then proceeded to cut the Cleric down with his many notched axe.
As Bruenor was running at the Clerics, after removing the Greatsword from the MACO leader’s side, Drizzt had produced a small vial of liquid that he unstoppered and pressed to an almost unconscious James’s lips, forcing the man to drink it.
As the acrid liquid went down his throat, almost causing him to throw up, he felt great warmth enveloping his body, taking his pain away, invigorating him anew, making him feel as good as if he’d slept an entire night.
Looking down at his stomach, he saw the wound close completely, the bleeding being stopped, his wound knitting itself shut, and realized the same thing was happening to all his wounds, his body healing itself at an astonishing rate, much faster even then it would have through Starfleet’s medical technology.
He looked at Drizzt with great surprise painted on his face, the Drow simply saying “Healing potion” as he was drawing his scimitars and running after Bruenor.
Feeling better than he had been in ages, James turned his head to where Drizzt was running and his spirit sunk slightly.
For before him he saw the entire Orc army running at him and his friends, and knew he would have to do battle again.
His hopes of peaceful resolution of the crisis had been crushed, and he knew without a doubt that, even if the Dwarven forces were to prevail, the death toll today would be staggering.
Getting up, he decided he would do everything in his power to ensure victory with minimal losses from his allies.
He looked back and noticed the advancing Dwarven army, Wulfgar and his MACOs preceding everyone else, except for Catti-Brie, Hudson and Hicks, who stayed back with the Dwarven crossbowmen, raining death upon the enemy.
James made sure he caught his MACO’s eyes, and signalled to Hudson and Hicks to fire all they had at the Frost Giants, as they were the most dangerous creatures in the advancing army.
He knew they would have picked the Giants as their primary targets, but he felt better giving them definitive orders, now absolutely certain of their targets.
He saw them acknowledge, and then Hicks turned to Catti-Brie to say something, James certain he was relaying their orders in the case she wanted to support them.
As the rest of his unit was approaching, he went to the task of selecting a weapon.
He almost picked the Orc King’s Greatsword, thinking the longer blade and fire ability might help in the upcoming battle, but then realized he had no clue how to initiate the fire generating power of the sword and that the sword he had used, Khazid'hea, was better suited to his fighting style as it had similar weight and length to an Ares Monosword, his bladed weapon of choice.
The fact that the blade had been capable of cutting through even the Orc King’s seemingly impregnable armor convinced the MACO leader who bent down and picked the sword up before he sprinted towards Bruenor and Drizzt.
Once more, Khazid'hea tried to influence James, to control the man’s actions, pushing him towards a glorious charge that would leave many Orcs dead in its wake, ensuring James’s place in history, and once more the big MACO leader pushed the sword’s influence away using all his willpower.
The battle was easy, this time, since the potion Drizzt had given James had replenished the man’s energy and vitality, his willpower unaffected by fatigue or pain.
Still, the sword was happy, as its wielder was going into fierce battle whether it was reckless or not, and it sensed its wielder’s restored power, understanding it was going to taste much blood this day.

As they were waiting for their friends to join them, Drizzt, Bruenor and James set themselves up in triangular formation, the Dwarven King being on the point nearest to the advancing enemies.
This was decided quickly because the faster Dark Elf and MACO leader would be better at covering their formation’s weak points with their great speed.
Then the enemy was upon them, trying to sweep up the defenders with their greater mass.
Their tactic wasn’t as successful as they had hoped, though, for the Dwarven King’s powerful legs, coupled with his much lower center of gravity, allowed him to resist the first rushing Orcs and cut them down as they came at him.
The Dark Elf used his great agility and speed to evade, trip, and even jump over the rushing enemy troops, cutting at them from every angle with his fine blades, their graceful curved lines soon tinted blood-red.
As for James, possessing of both great speed and power, he combined both tactics efficiently.
The Orcs he swatted aside while the bigger Ogres, with their greater mass full of momentum even he would be hard pressed to stop, were simply tripped over powerfully.
James saw a sword come in an overhead sweeping angle which he quickly parried with Khazid'hea, surprise painted over his face as the Orc sword continued on as if nothing was in its way, feeling something nick his right cheek before hitting his right pauldron, the only one remaining.
He felt the Orc’s blade scrape against his breastplate, but to his immense surprise, it did not penetrate as it should have considering the angle and power of the attack.
He didn’t have time to consider it as he batted another attack aside, this time shearing a spear shaft in half, the headless wooden stick continuing on its way to strike against his left cuisse.
He shifted his weight to his right left and side-kicked the attacking Orc in the torso, its chain mail offering little protection against an impact of that magnitude.
James heard ribs crack as his opponent flew back into two other Orcs.
He turned back towards the Orc that had attacked him with a sword and saw a very surprised Orc, looking at its sword stump, wondering where the rest of its blade had gone.
The big human understood then the incredible power of his new sword, possessing a blade so sharp it could, when combined with James’s strength, cut through anything.
The MACO leader also realized just how powerful the Orc King’s armor had been, as strikes that went through normal steel as if it were cardboard had been hard pressed penetrating the armor deeply.
With this understanding came a new strategy in James’s mind.
Since straight parries would simply cut his opponent’s weapons in half without impeding their momentum, allowing an attack to continue and preventing the big human from using the parry’s momentum to counter, James quickly began to parry using the blade’s flat sides, forcing opponent’s attacks off-line and preventing broken weapons from injuring him by continuing on their attack path.
As James weaved between Orc spears and swords, occasionally evading an Ogre’s club, he noticed a huge shadow envelop him.
He stepped to his right, severing an Orc that had raised its shield in protection in half with a sidelong sweep of his sword, just as a huge Giant’s foot stomped hard on the ground.
The big human felt the tremors caused by that action, so powerful was the blow.
The Giant, angry it had not successfully attacked his leader’s killer, swept its huge axe in a horizontal attack aimed at James with abandon, uncaring that its attack killed two Orcs and swept three others away while the MACO leader jumped over it, striking at the creature’s right hand while in the air and severing a few of its fingers, as well as the weapon’s haft.
The Giant let go of its weapon at the end of its swing, the huge Battleaxe flying towards a knot of advancing Orcs, killing a few more when it landed.
Upon landing, James ran at the Giant and struck it right leg with all his strength, severing it at the knee.
The creature fell to the ground, howling in pain and fury, though not for long, for as soon as it had landed, James had gone up next to it and cut off its head.
By that time, Wulfgar and the rest of the MACOs had arrived, and with Drizzt and Bruenor, were creating a defensive ring, each warrior protecting the other’s flanks as well as their own, with Kyra running around and killing anything that successfully breached the ring’s perimeter.
James quickly searched the battlefield, looking for some other Giants looking to attack him, but he saw that Catti-Brie’s arrows and Hudson and Hick’s heavy bolts were taking their toll on the creatures.
Hacking away at any enemy daring to approach him, the big human rejoined his friends and took a position on the defensive circle’s edge.
Then the Dwarves reached the Orcs, and a furious battle ensued.
It went on for hours, Hicks and Hudson eventually forced into melee range, having spent all their ammunition, as had the rest of the Dwarven Crossbowmen.
The only one still firing, though her rate had dropped considerably, her arms aching all over, was Catti-Brie, her fine quiver refilling itself continually, allowing her to rain silvery death upon the enemy.
The two MACOs next to her stood their ground, having become her escort, her protectors, preventing any enemy from getting to her, fighting with a fierceness matching the Dwarves’s.
The fighting was so intense that Hudson, voluble Hudson, could not find the wind to utter a single insult, a single witty remark, during the ordeal that the battle had become.

Then, as quickly as it had begun, the battle stopped, the remaining Orcs having lost the stomach for battle, thousands of their brethren laying dead on the ground, their cohesive unity evaporated during the bloody battle.
They regrouped with their old clans and fled back towards the mountains, back towards their old caves and barrows.

As the dust settled on the battlefield, the victors standing resolute as they allowed the Orcs to flee, cheers erupted from the Dwarven forces, for their victory was complete.
And while the price was high, hundreds of Dwarves laying dead or dying on the ground, hundreds more injured or maimed, they all felt it had been worth it, for their realm was now free of Orcs, and their enemies had paid a much heavier price, and all for nothing.
As the Dwarven forces began to sweep the battlefield, killing any surviving Orcs, and calling Clerics out to help surviving Dwarves, James looked at his companions.
All were tired, their shoulders sagging, even the indomitable Riddick was showing signs of fatigue, all of them wounded to some degree, with Boomer’s left arm hanging limp at her side, Wulfgar holding his right side, covering up a large gash, Kyra down on the ground, her left ankle turned up in an unnatural angle.

“Well, looks like I’ll hav’ ta give ye tha’ apology I owed ye after all,” Bruenor started saying to James, “For we owe ye this victory in battle, or I’m a bearded Gnome!”

James was turning towards Bruenor , smiling, about to tell him he was right, when his eyes caught sight of Doc, lying face down over an Orc’s body, unmoving.
The big man was next to his friend in the blink of an eye, kneeling besides him, turning him slowly on his back.
Doc’s eyes looked straight into his, except that the big MACO leader knew those eyes were not seeing anything, and that they never would again.

[sonofccn]

Poor Doc. Well unless the Dark Elf just pulls out another potion. Then Doc's just goldbricking and needs to get back to work. On the plus side Hicks and Hudson survived so yeah for that! However seeing as I am a man of few words, usually the wrong ones, I shall relay the empathic response of that master of the Basic language.

Y'all ought not shed a tear for him. By my reckoning we plum should thank such souls for abiding, were the fretful did but turn away by tarnashing those of Doc's stature ain't about to. Y'all ought raise your voice, I say, raise it at thar triumphs won as well the bitter defeats shared. Y'all raise it not for a brother lost but merely separated for a spell

[Praeothmin]

Chapter 73


“Mother Fragger!” James exclaimed.
“I should have kept an eye on him during the battle.
I should have been there to protect him.” He lamented.

“Ye couldn’t, me friend.” Bruenor told James.
“Ye were fightin’ fer yer life and the lives o’ countless others, as were we all.
Ye couldn’t, and ye didn’t, fer ye trusted him and his capabilities, jest as ye trusted all o’ us.
And ye were right, fer there are many Orcs dead or dying because o’ his weapon.
They paid very dearly fer his life.
He fought well, and his sacrifice in this battle means tha’ no one else in the group died.
He sacrificed himself so that none of his friends and companions would die.
There canno’ be a greater reason.
And lamenting him as you intend to do, blamin’ ye fer his death, is the greatest insult ye could offer him.” The Dwarf King said.
“No, me friend, ye should hold yer head up high an’ thank the Gods ye were fortunate enough to have that man as a friend.
Ye should honor his sacrifice by continuing the fight fer good and all tha’ is right.
And know ye tha’ he’ll forever be in yer heart.
Tha’s wha’ I intend ta do.” Bruenor finished.

James knew the Dwarf King was right, and remembered what he had once told Doc after Heyes’s death on the Dyson Ring.
Sometimes you lose men, and there’s nothing you can do about it, except to accept it as a reality of battle.
And so he would not lament Doc, and would honor the man’s memory by pushing forward, and continuing to put his life on the line to save others.
As he was about to thank Bruenor for reminding him of that fact, he heard Hudson calling his name.

“Major, come over here, quick!” A panicked Hudson called out.
“Hicks is hurt bad, he’s unconscious and breathin’ shallow.”

Frag it!, thought James, Not another one.
He stood up and turned to his teammates.

“MACOs, regroup to Hudson’s position, asap.
We need to get back to base for Hicks’s sake.” He told them.

They started moving as fast as they could, their injuries preventing them from running very fast, Riddick carrying Kyra on his back.
James then turned around, gently took Doc’s body in his arms, and quickly made his way towards Hudson.
Reaching the man’s position, he saw the truth of Hudson’s report.
Hicks’s torso was barely moving, the man’s face drained of color.
He was going to die just like Doc, unless James acted fast.
He knew the only way to save his friend was to go against the Prime Directive, and knew well the penalty for such a transgression.
A penalty well-deserved, he knew, for he too shared Starfleet’s concern with introducing advanced technology in a culture not yet ready for it.
Still, the price was well worth it in this situation, as far as he was concerned.
Frag it all to hell!, He thought, They can Court-Martial me if they want, there’s no way I’m letting Hicks die.
I’ve already lost a man today, and I certainly won’t lose another one.

He turned to Bruenor as he was reaching for his hidden communicator, satisfied it was still securely fastened to his undergarments despite all the attacks his armor and body had suffered.

“Thank you, my friend, for your kind words.
I will honor Doc as he deserves once we’re all back with our people.”
He looked at Bruenor, Drizzt, Catti-Brie and Wulfgar, and saluted them.
“I pray we meet again, my friends.
But now, I have a soldier to save.”

He took his communicator out as he told Bruenor and the others:
“What you are about to see may shock you, but please remember I told you I worked for a greater force.
Do not be afraid.”

He tapped once on the device, which chirped in response.

“Major Reynolds to the Musashi.” He said.
Emergency beam-out is required directly to Sickbay.
Five MACOs plus one body to beam up.” He added soberly.

As the Companions of the Hall, as well as any Dwarves close enough to hear, looked upon the MACOs with puzzling looks, the Starfleet officers disappeared within shimmering fields of golden energy.

“Wha’ in the Nine Hells just happened?” Asked a surprised Dwarven King.

“It appears, my good friends, that they have powerful magical teleportation devices.” A melodic voice answered.

Everyone turned around to face one of the most beautiful human being they had ever seen, a tall blonde woman with warm, compassionate eyes and a flawless face, standing at the back of a fiery chariot, pulled by two white horses with flaming hooves and orange-red manes.
She was wearing a gown of blue gossamer that flowed freely around her, as if she was walking on the wind, her long hair falling down her bare back.
She smiled at them as they stared, stepping down from her chariot as it dissolved into smoky wisps.

“Lady Alustriel!” Drizzt called out happily.
“Your sight does bring joy to our weary eyes.
You have missed quite a battle.” He told her.

“So I see!” She said, indicating their surroundings with a wave of her supple arm.
“I had heard of the battle, and so prepared myself for it, thinking of coming here and assisting you, using my chariot to make a two day journey in two hours.
Alas, it seems I arrived too late to help lessen the brunt of the battle on you sturdy Dwarves.”

“An’ glad we would’ve been fer the assistance o’ the Lady o’ Sylverymoon, don’t ye doubt.” Bruenor told her.
“Luckily fer us, we had the help o’ some powerful friends, who helped us in gaining a great victory fer the northern Realms.”

“At great cost, though, it seemed from my vantage point.” The Lady told the Dwarf.

“Aye, Milady!” Answered Drizzt.
“One of them paid for this victory with his life, the other not much better off.
They were teleported back to their ship in the hopes of saving Hicks, the second man, when you arrived.”

“Their ship?” Lady Alustriel asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Yes, that is what their dead friend, Doc, told us when he thought James dead.” Drizzt explained.
“Thinking they were trapped here, he told us James had the only way to communicate with their leaders, and that without it, they were stranded here.
We told them we could help them get to their land, but he explained they weren’t actually from a land in the Realms, but that they had come to the Realms in a vessel, filled with powerful magical items, and that the reason hey had not told us this before was that their leaders felt our world was not ready to be introduced to such powerful magics.” He continued as he carefully examined the Lady’s reaction to his tale.
“We didn’t know if we should believe them at first, but now, it seems he was telling the truth.
And you seem to know something about it, Lady Alustriel, or I’m a bearded Gnome.” Drizzt finished, using his friend’s trademark jest.

They all looked at Drizzt with quizzical looks, which changed to astonished ones when Lady Alustriel simply smiled, and nodded.

“I have indeed knowledge if such people, though I had no seen a member of those ships in quite a while.” She answered.
“These people are known as Spelljammers, and use mighty magical ships to travel from world to world.
Some for Good, some for Evil, but all very powerful.
And from what you said, and the fact they helped you in battle here, as well as the caravan from Nesme, I am certain these people were a force for Good.”

[sonofccn]

Hicks? Hicks! No...if he dies I shall be forced to shed a Manly tear for the sending of a great warrior to the hereafter. And a bitter laugh for the foul daemons and necrotic fallen whom must now face him.

Also I know now what a Spelljammer is, kinda, so I learned something. Yeah! Through I take it we're about to leave the Forgotten Realms for new vistas unexplored.

[Praeothmin]

Update...

Chapter 74

Shimmering energy fields announced the arrival of the MACOs within Sickbay.
As soon as they were fully materialized, nurses rushed towards the two inert bodies within the group, quick glances letting them know the other members of the team could wait a bit longer for their wounds to be treated.
Even though a cursory glance told the medical crew Doc was dead, they still performed the procedural resuscitation attempts, perhaps hoping for a miracle.
Doctor Numorr, certain nothing could be done, had more pressing matters in her hands.
Hicks, while grievously wounded, wasn’t dead yet, and she fully intended to preserve the man’s life.
The MACOs looked on silently as one of theirs was fighting for his life, while the body of another was lying on the next bed.
The stress of the battlefield receding, the battle persona in everyone was slowly replaced by their true nature, their sadness at the loss of a companion gradually displayed on their faces.
Even the normally unemotional Riddick seemed affected by Doc’s loss and Hick’s condition.
Hudson was an emotional wreck as he was looking at the man who had become his best friend since they were stranded together on the Musashi, Hick’s survival still uncertain judging by the serious faces of those operating on him.
As the crew working on Doc slowly accepted his death, they went to the other MACOs who were injured and treated their wounds quickly, most of them being light as far as Starfleet Medical technology was concerned.
James’s wounds, superficial at best, were quickly treated using the auto-suture which he administered himself, allowing the crew of the Musashi to take care of the more serious wounds of the others.

Once finished treating his wounds, he decided to go to his quarters to freshen up, knowing Valis would advise him of Hick’s situation when she was done treating him.
He also wanted to talk to her, to clear up some clouds he saw hanging over their potential relationship.
He had been evading her during the week of training his team had received, even though he had had more than enough free time and could have spent some with her, but he hadn’t.
Every time she had asked to see him, so they could have that conversation which had been promised some time ago, excuses were offered in return, James promising to make it up to her later.
She deserved better than excuses, he knew, and so he had decided to tell her the truth: while he was still certain of his feelings for her, feelings for another person had slowly crept up within him, and he could not be with Valis as long as these feelings were there.
He didn’t feel comfortable developing a relationship with someone while he had another person in his mind at the same time, and so he decided to tell her that he would need time to sort his feelings out before being able to commit to a serious relationship, believing Valis deserved more than just a casual one where only the pursuit of pleasure was important.

He’d just gotten out of the shower when his room’s comm unit beeped.

“Captain Kirkinger to Major Reynolds.” He heard the communicator emit.
“Please meet me in my Ready Room as soon as possible.”

“Major Reynolds here,” He answered, “I’m on my way.”

He dressed quickly, choosing one of the new MACO uniforms the ship’s computer had designed for them based on designs from old records of MACO units of the past.
The uniform was comfortable, tailored to his exact size, and he felt as if he was wearing a set of pajama, the uniform very light even though he knew it was as resistant to damage as his old ballistic clothing.
He arrived at the Captain’s ready room within minutes, after crossing the Bridge, where almost no traces of battle damage remained, Cmdr. Tremblay overseeing final repair operations.
As he came in, he saw that Cmdr. T’Len and Teramak were there as well, already seated with a few pads displayed in front of them.
They nodded at him as he reached the table, and he nodded in return as he sat down.

“I am sorry for the loss of Doc.” Captain Kirkinger said, sadness apparent in his eyes.
“He was a fine officer.”

“Indeed, he was!” T’Len told them, her face betraying no emotion at all, as always.

“He was a fine friend,” Teramak said, looking at James who could only nod, “One who performed his duty diligently, a man fiercely loyal to his teammates, who proudly served with the crew of the Musashi, one we will miss.
He was also a man who knew the risks involved in being part of a unit such as the MACOs,” He added, his eyes never leaving James as he spoke, “Risks he accepted when he joined the unit.”

The MACO leader understood the message Teramak was delivering, as it was the same one Bruenor had given him less than an hour ago, a message James understood, even if he had trouble fully accepting its truth at the moment.

“Thank you!” James replied, truly appreciative of the attempt from Teramak at levying the guilt he felt for Doc’s demise.

“Major, the reason I asked for you to join us is to know how things went down there, and bring you up to speed on how things are up here.” Kirkinger said.
“Of course, I don’t expect a full report, just the rough lines, and I can read the rest in your report later.”

James quickly recounted what had happened on the world below, how they had helped the humans and other races of the planet by getting rid of Obould Many-Arrows in singular combat.
The Captain, in turn , told James how they had successfully recovered enough Dilithium to last a lifetime, and how the Musashi, after a week and a half of repairs, was now in very good shape.

“We are also better prepared to deal with the reality shifts our ever-loving Orb of the Prophets imparts upon us.” He added.
“Cmdr. T’Len, would you please explain?” He said, inviting the Cmdr. to speak with a nod.

As T’Len opened her mouth, power went away in a very familiar and exasperating manner.

“Motherfragger!” James exclaimed loudly.

But this time, as the ship’s frame was beginning to creak, power inexplicably came back up, though not fully.
And so the normal frame-cracking phase of the reality shift didn’t happen, the ship’s Structural Integrity Field online and holding.
As they felt the expected bump of their arrival in the new reality, alarm klaxons began to blare throughout the ship.
The officers quickly made their way to the Bridge, eager to learn where they were.
While Captain Kirkinger reached his command chair, James looked at the viewscreen, which should have been blank.
Except it wasn’t, and on it he could see a planetary surface, covered by water and land, greatly resembling the one they had just left an hour ago.
But what caught the big man’s attention were the numerous ships he saw in orbit of the planet.
A quick estimate placed them in the dozens, and they were all hovering over the world below them, like predators slowly circling a weakened prey.
One smaller ship, different from the others, was being attacked by the bigger ones, surrounded by a great smoking debris field, James thinking they were most likely other smaller ships that had just been destroyed.
As the smaller ship was being shot at, many small objects were seen being ejected from it.
Everyone knew they were escape pods even before the officer manning the sensors confirmed it.
A few movements later, the smaller ship exploded like a miniature sun, the flash momentarily blinding the Musashi’s sensors and viewscreen.
When they could see again, they noticed a few of the attacking ships were veering towards them.
After a few seconds, bolts of energy sped towards the Akira-class ship.
The Musashi suddenly lurched hard to Port, the familiar effect of an exterior impact on the ship.
The difference, though, was that the impact had been weak, as it normally was when shields were up, which James felt strange since he knew they shouldn’t have regained enough power to have shields.

“Shields holding at 23%!” Called Teramak from the Tactical station.

“It seems, Cmdr. T’Len,” The Captain began, “That your modifications are working.”

“Captain,” Called the Ensign manning the Communication station, “We have an incoming message, audio only, which our communication equipment was only able to decipher now.”

“Well, Ensign, put it on!” Said an intrigued Kirkinger.

“Patching it through speakers!” The Ensign answered.

“… was a warning shot, unknown vessel.
I repeat, Identify yourself or we will fire again.
You have five seconds to reply.” The voice coming from the speakers told them.

“I am Captain Kirkinger, of the Federation Vessel Musashi.” Kirkinger told the unknown owner of the voice.
“Please hold your fire, we come in peace.”

The reply came back quickly.

“Then lower your shields and prepare to be boarded.
You are trespassing on Sith Empire territory.”

[sonofccn]

A long time ago in a galaxy far away...James punched a Sith Lord in the face. :)

Through for those of us ignorant of Star Wars back history, such as me, may I ask when exactly this is taking place because I'm unlikely to figure it out on my lonesome. I tried "Sith Empire" at Wookieepedia but I came out from it more muddled than enlightened.

[Praeothmin]

may I ask when exactly this is taking place

Of course, you may ask...

















Oh, you were expecting an answer again, weren't you? :)

Guess you'll just have to keep reading, things will get clearer once the story gets rolling... :)

[Praeothmin]

Update...

Chapter 75

“Well, once again it would seem we’ve been unwillingly catapulted in the middle of a war, forced to participate whether we like it or not.” Captain Kirkinger mused aloud.

“And once again,” James added, “We need to determine which side we need to help.”

Captain Kirkinger and the others looked at him gravely, knowing he was right.
The Orb had transported them here to help, and they needed to determine who it was that needed their help.
For the moment, though, they were the ones who were in a dire position.

“Captain,” James began, “If you can teleport me on the surface of the planet, close to one of the escape pods, I can try to learn what is the situation in this reality, while you deal with the ships in orbit.”

“Good idea, Major!” Captain Kirkinger replied.
“Assemble your team, gear up and get ready to be beamed down.”

“Sir, if you’ll allow, I believe it best for my team to remain here, as they are still a bit banged up, and we have no clue what we might find below.” James told his Captain.

Kirkinger thought for only a moment before nodding his consent.

“Plus, if you do get boarded or captured, my team is the best bet you have of getting out in one piece.
Have them hide in the ship, set-up scattering fields, and let them help you as they see fit.
Also purge all details of us from the ship’s computers.
That way if they access them, they will not know of our existence.
This will increase the chances of getting you out of any danger you might find yourselves in.” James added.

“Make it so!” Kirkinger replied.

“Federation vessel.” The voice over the speakers spoke again.
“This is the Sith vessel Leviathan.
You have ten seconds to lower your shields and signal your surrender.
Absence of compliance means we will destroy you.”

Captain Kirkinger looked at Teramak as James was leaving the bridge area, and signalled for the shields to be switched off.

“Leviathan, this is Captain Kirkinger.
Our shields are down.
What do you want us to do?” Kirkinger asked.

Cmdr. Teramak called out to his Captain.

“Main power is back online Sir.
We have 79% power, and Warp Engines are online.”

“Great!” Kirkinger told him.
“Let’s stall these guys until James if down on the surface, and then let’s get out of here.
Conn, plot an exit course, maximum Warp, and engage on my command.”

“Yes Sir!” The Ensign replied.
“Course plotted, waiting for your command.”

“Federation vessel, we will be sending a shuttle filled with Sith Troopers, and an Officer to act as liaison during your surrender.
Any act of aggression against this shuttle will incur a lethal response from our cruisers.
Leviathan out.”

“Captain,” Teramak called out, “Sensors show that the enemy vessels are projecting artificial gravity wells in our path.”

Kirkinger was intrigued by this.

“What effects do they have?” He asked his Tactical officer.
“Are they attempting to crush our ship between gravity wells?”

“No effects that we can monitor, except that at our specific location, our ship is now held in place as if affected by the gravity wells of four different planets.”

“Ensign,” The Captain called out to the Conn officer, “Compensate for gravitational forces.”

“Aye Sir!” Was the only response.

**************************************************************

James made his way to the Transporter room in a hurry, his great agility helping him avoid the crewmembers he encountered in the corridors, preventing him from tackling those poor souls into bulkheads and walls.
Not knowing where he was going, and if weapons were allowed, he had decided not to go heavily armed, so he had grabbed an easily concealable Type-I hand Phaser that he stored in one of the arm pockets of his uniform.
He had also grabbed a Communication badge, also hidden in an arm pocket, and a Tricorder that he had loaded with the Universal Translator algorithm, in case the aliens he encountered would not, contrary to the Sith, speak English or any language he knew.
The Tricorder was stored in one of his beltpouches for easy access.
He had completed his kit with a small med-kit they had prepared with Doc, and a few protein bars in case he became hungry and could not locate any food fit for his consumption planet side.
As soon as he came in the Transporter room, he jumped on the pad, telling the operator to transport him close to the last Escape Pod to be jettisoned by the destroyed vessel.
The Transporter Chief didn’t take long to find the pod with the fully powered sensors, and so less than ten seconds later, James Reynolds materialized within a golden energy field on a city walkway, little more than twelve meters from the escape pod.
The walkway was deserted, as the Transporter Chief had discovered, and while James had originally thought it had been due to the crashing escape pod forcing people in hiding, he realized, as he was now fully materialized, that it was barely dawn at his location.
The big human understood that this was the reason for the deserted walkway, and that the noise of the crashing escape pod would not, as he had believed, keep people away, but would instead bring them running to find out what had caused the noise that had most likely woken them up.
He knew he had to act fast.
As he looked at the pod, looking for an access hatch, he realized time was even shorter then he had believed, for a fire had started on the underside of the pod.
He ran to it, confident his MACO uniform would protect him from the small flames and heat long enough for him to find survivor, the pod close to the walkway’s edge, the furrows it had dug in its crash showing how close it had come to falling off.
If there are any, he thought gloomily.
He found the hatch at the back of the pod, partially opened, but when he pulled on it he realized it was jammed.
The fire was spreading out, growing, so James knew he had to act fast.
He grabbed the lip of the access hatch with both hands, and used his right leg to brace himself against the pod’s side.
Then, using every ounce of his considerable strength, he pulled as if his life depended on it.
Slowly, so very slowly, the pod’s frame groaning in protest, with creaking noises becoming ever louder, the gap in the hatch began to widen.
After a few more moments, the flames surrounding the pod almost reaching James’s waist, the hatch broke off, James’s newly acquired momentum from the opening hatch almost toppling him over the edge of the walkway.
Looking down, he realized the walkway was in fact some sort of an upper level to the city, and that, had he gone over its edge, he would have certainly fallen to his death many hundred meters to the lower levels.
He didn’t waste much time pondering on such a possibility, for the flames were getting higher and higher on the pod.
He peered inside and saw two human males, garbed in what appeared to be military armor, strapped in their seats, their security harnesses having survived the impact.
He reached inside and freed the first man from his harness, then, grabbing his front armor, he hoisted him out of the pod, observing carefully to make sure he didn’t worsen any wounds the man might have suffered in the crash.
Seeing nothing amiss, knowing that he couldn’t really take the time to properly examine the man anyways with the fire gaining in intensity, he pulled the man out and laid him on the ground a few meters away from the flaming pod, eliciting a moan from the unconscious soldier.
Then he went back for the other man, noticing he didn’t have much time before the pod risked exploding.
He reached in the pod, and started to free the other man from his harness, the movement of the man’s body making his head turn around to face James.
Then the big MACO leader froze mid-movement.

*****************************************************************

The man was standing behind his pilot, a full squad of Sith Troopers sitting in their rapid deployment seats, strapped in with their four-point harnesses, their black and silver armors reflecting the shuttle’s artificial light, their energy rifles sitting across their laps, ready to disembark at a moment’s notice.
Sergeant Ketrel was proud of his men, a tight-knit unit of veterans, having served with them for over ten years.
His men were calm under fire, never panicking, and worked in perfect unison, their experience having saved them in many confrontations in the past, first when fighting against the Mandalorians for the Republic, and now fighting against their old allies within the Republic.
He didn’t know where this Federation vessel had come from, or even which Federation it represented, but he did not fear boarding such a vessel with the mighty Sith fleet preventing it from fleeing, and the very real threat of destruction should the Federation vessel decide to destroy his squad and him.
And he wasn’t afraid of stepping off the shuttle in a trap, as if that happened he would calmly explain that his leaders did not negotiate with hostage takers, moments before his troopers opened fire on anybody who threatened them.
Sergeant Ketrel and his squad were ready for anything.
Or so they thought, for as they were approaching the Federation vessel, its sleek line eliciting admiration even from the Sith officer, as their shuttle was circling the alien ship in order to line itself up with the approach vector it had been given, the Federation vessel appeared to elongate for a fraction of a second, and then disappeared in a flash of light.

*************************************************************************

As soon as he had received confirmation that James had safely re-materialized on the planet’s surface, the Transporter Chief had sent a message to the bridge to apprise them of the fact.
At the reception of the message, Captain Kirkinger only pronounced two words.

“Helm, engage!”

The Musashi’s Warp Engines flared to life, propelling it and all its passengers to safety at superluminal speeds.

***********************************************************************************

James was stunned, for it was as if he was looking directly at a reflection his very own face.
He could see his eyes, his nose, the same colored hair, even his chiselled jaw, although this man’s jaw wasn’t as pronounced, most likely because he had not received James’s skeletal reinforcements.
While the overall build was smaller, James could see the man was probably just as tall as he was.
And he was moving.
So James reached in and freed the man from his harness, but just as he was about to grab his armor and drag him out, there was an explosion under the pod, rolling it over and throwing James off.
The MACO leader landed hard, rolling away from the fiery pod, fearing another explosion.
Disoriented, he was still rolling when he felt the ground give way from under him, his body falling off the walkway.
His enhanced reflexes kicked in and his hand shot out, grabbing the lip of the walkway at the last instant.
Using his momentum, he swung his body back up and over the ledge, getting to his feet, ready to run back at the pod when it exploded.
The force of the explosion sent him flat on his back, hard, his head impacting the ground, his vision becoming blurry.
The pod careened over the edge of the walkway and fell to the lower levels, assuredly killing James’s twin if the explosion had not.
The big human unsteadily got to his feet once more, his uniform showing burn marks even though it was still whole, and he went to the man he had gotten out of the pod.
The man was still unconscious, and he would certainly need medical attention soon.
James knew he couldn’t do it here, in the streets, as it would result in unwanted curiosity from the inhabitants of the city level they stood on.
He quickly looked around and saw, to his surprise, an apparently run-down building on his level.
Picking the man he had saved up in his arms, he walked quickly towards the building, noticing some activity at the other end of the walkway.
The building’s automated doors hissed open as he approached them, showing no apparent security measures, although James knew those measures could exist in an unfamiliar form and technology.
He found himself in a corridor reminiscent of the Akira-Class vessel’s architecture, both sides presenting bends, as if he had been in a Federation vessel’s saucer section.
He went left without thinking, searching for a safe location for them both.
The second door he encountered was half opened, a piece of metal jamming it in place, preventing it from closing.
He peeked into the room, carefully scanning it for any danger, and when he found nothing amiss, he entered.
Finding a beat up couch along one wall, he carefully laid the man he was holding on it.
He went back to the door, and pulled the jamming debris out.
As the door closed, the lights came on, and James heard the doors lock into place.
Great, he thought, it seems we’re stuck in this apartment.
A moan coming from the unconscious man brought James at his side, his med-kit in hand.
He examined the man quickly, confirming, as he suspected, that these were truly humans, and did not simply have a human-like appearance.
The man wasn’t severely hurt, his armor having protected him during the crash, and only suffered a mild concussion.
Starfleet’s medical technology quickly took care of the issue, and the man fell into a deep, recuperative sleep.
It was high noon a day later, according to James's watch, when the man woke up.
He was handsome, with a straight nose, brown, curly hair and brown eyes.
He was wearing light armor, and so James could see the man, though surely athletic since he presented a slim figure, was not heavily muscular.
The man looked at him with a weird gaze, as if he was unsure of something concerning James.

“I must have hit my head real hard,” The man began, “Because I was certain you had been wearing armor when we escaped the ship.”

James almost let out a sigh of relief.
The man mistook him for his twin, showing him they were most likely met during the escape.
The MACO leader thought his information gathering mission would be easier than originally thought.

“Thanks for getting me out of that pod, by the way.
I’m Carth Onasi.” He added.

[sonofccn]

Well lets us all speak our sorrow for the death of James's little brother...so young, so much potentional to follow in the footsteps of James Killer of Obould many arrows, the slaughter of the Xenomorph Queen and the Frost Giant's ect. I sure Khan will shed a single tear at the loss of what could have been.

Now then moving onto far more pressing matters. Will Toombs show up and get hurt? Because that would be funny and enjoyable. :)

[Praeothmin]

Will Toombs show up and get hurt? Because that would be funny and enjoyable. :)

What do you think?

Though not soon...


Oh, and you now have a clue as to where, and when, they've arrived... :)