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

[Khas]

Out of curiosity, is the fact that it's an Akira-class ship a shout-out to my fanfic, or no?

[Praeothmin]

Nope, didn't remember your ship was an Akira also, it's just that I didn't want a ship that we had seen everywhere, and the Akira is one hell of a ship... :)

[Admiral Breetai]

your on fire man keep it up!!

[Praeothmin]

I will, I got slowed down because I was on a business trip in Europe, and so between the job and the visiting, I didn't have much time... :)

Chapter 7 is started, and I have outlined pretty much all of the main story, so things should start over again soon... :)

[Admiral Breetai]

I will, I got slowed down because I was on a business trip in Europe, and so between the job and the visiting, I didn't have much time... :)

Chapter 7 is started, and I have outlined pretty much all of the main story, so things should start over again soon... :)

oh you have a vision of how the whole thing will end? that's a smart way of going about..I jumped in head first and am just winging..it on my end

[Praeothmin]

That's the way I usually prepare my Shadowrun campaigns as well.
I think of a main plot, with only general outlines, and then wing it from there, with mostly the main storyline in my head, although exactly how A gets to B evolves during gameplay, or in this case, during writing... :)

[Praeothmin]

New Chapter has arrived...

Chapter 7

The alarm sounded, a deafening klaxon reverberating all over the ship, which was followed by a message over the Comm system:
“Red Alert! Red Alert! This is not a drill, everyone to their battle stations. I repeat, everyone to their battle stations!”

Valis snapped out of the moment, looked at James, spun around and sprinted to the door as she said:
“Come with me!”

He instinctively grabbed his gun holster and collapsible stick, strapping his shoulder holster across his back, tucking the collapsible stick in its special pouch on his right pant leg.
He followed the Doctor through many corridors – corridors he now recognized -, going back to the Sickbay, crossing many people hurrying, getting to their posts.
He was careful not to go too fast, having learned years ago that not everyone in the shadows could run as fast as he could - especially Mages who could not have Cybernetics or Bioware implanted without losing magical prowess – and so you always had to learn to run only as fast as your slowest team member.
And so he paced himself on the Doctor’s speed, and wasn’t even breathing hard when they got to Sickbay.
As soon as Valis crossed the doors, she became business-like, showing only her Doctor persona.
She made sure that all the remaining patients received the necessary treatments, and sent those she could back to their posts.
James was unsure of what to do, so he followed the Doctor around, hoping to find a way to help.
He noticed the Security Chief was no longer there, and he figured he had run to his post as soon as the alarm had sounded, no matter how injured he was.
He didn’t have to muse much longer before a call came in.

“Captain Kirkinger to Cmdr Valis, come in.”

“Cmdr Valis here, Captain.”

“Is our guest with you?”

“Yes he is!” Valis replied, fully concentrated on preparing the Sickbay for possible injuries, not knowing if the ship was going into combat or not.

“Send him to the bridge, I have a feeling we may need his help very soon.” With that, silence came back.

James sent a questioning look to the Doctor, who simply nodded towards the doors, and sent him off with a “The guard outside will accompany you to the Bridge.”
He went out of the room, and followed the guard waiting for him next to the door.
They walked at a brisk pace, as if the guard was in a hurry to get rid of him, but as James looked around him, all the while memorizing the path they were taking, he noticed that everyone was as in a hurry as the security officer guiding him.
He could see the determination, excitement and, in some people, a hint of fear, but all were busy going about their tasks with diligence, as if this was just one more work shift.
The security officer accompanying him, a middle-aged man in excellent shape, was calm though, the sign of a man who’d seen action before, and who didn’t let his emotions show, or control his actions.
James was sure the man felt the same thing as all the people they had come across, except his experience allowed him the luxury of not showing it.
They entered what he had learned was called a “turbolift”, and seconds later, after a smooth ride, the doors opened up on the bridge.

As James stepped out, he was greeted with the sight of many people bustling about around the bridge.
But what captured his attention were all the displays, beeping and bleeping, and rearranging themselves as people’s fingers flew over them.
None had standard buttons or switches, all the displays changed depending on the user’s needs and wishes.
James admired the fluidity and adaptability of the system, but had to wonder how long it took for one to master this type of work flow.
His attention then went to the main viewscreen, directly at the front of the bridge.
It was more than two meters tall and at least four meters wide, and was currently showing the outline of the planet they were orbiting, Bajor.
He allowed himself a fraction of a second of contemplation, before his training took over and he resumed his scanning of the bridge.
The Captain was sitting in his chair, near the back of the bridge, slightly to the right, with a matching seat to his left that James attributed to the XO.
They were separated in the middle by a display the Captain was currently studying.
Both seats overlooked the front of the bridge, where a station with a single seat, most likely the pilot’s seat, was located directly in front of the display screen, less than two meters away.
The bridge had three levels, each about twelve inches lower than the previous one.
His level, the one with the turbolifts – he had noticed a symmetrical lift opposite his – was the highest one, then the Captain’s chair level, and finally the pilot’s level.
Only the walls of his level were covered with displays and seats, the lowest level having only the pilot’s station.
At the pilot’s station was sitting a blue alien, bald, with what looked like a small dermal slit separating the right side of his head with the left side.
A couple of humans were manning the wall stations, with an Auburn-haired woman touring these stations, checking everything up and noting it all on what looked like an IPad.
She struck James because she had the same aura of command the Captain had, and moved about the bridge as someone whom all should fear and respect.
I think I found the XO, James thought as he noticed how beautiful she was.
While the Doctor was petite, with a compact frame, the XO had broader shoulders, was almost as tall as the Captain, and was evidently muscular.
She walked with the grace of a dancer, but the purpose of a fighter.
As with the Doctor, James was stricken.
Don’t they have ugly women here? He thought, as he kept looking at the XO.
James was pulled out of his examination by the security guard that had brought him there.

“Captain, our guest as arrived.” He said.
He then took up guard behind James, awaiting orders.
It was the XO who responded:

“Good, you may return to your post, Ensign. Thank you!”
Her voice was rich, of a lower pitch then James expected, with the undertone of one who expected to be obeyed instantly.
“So you’re the one who beats up our crew and makes our Tactical Officer unfit for duty.” She said.
“He would have been seating at that station there, were he capable of speaking intelligently.”
Looking at the station she was pointing, he saw it was manned by a human officer.
While he felt some remorse over the incident, he knew he had acted only as he had been thought, and so did not feel the need to apologize.
He simply looked at her and shrugged in reply.

“Let him be, Number One!” the Captain said, smiling.
“Mr. Reynolds acted as any of us would have… Had we had his training and augmentations.”

“Number One, is the ship ready?” the Captain asked his XO.

“Yes Sir, all systems are fully operational, all stations report ready.”

“Mr. Thromken!” called the Captain, turning towards the pilot, “set a course bearing 693 mark 327, and engage at my command, maximum Warp.”

“Course laid in Sir!” the alien replied.

“Engage! And turn that damn klaxon off… Helm, ETA to target?”

“At current speed, 63 minutes Sir.” The alien said.

The viewscreen showed the planet veering to the right of the ship, the starry night filling the screen, when suddenly the ship was blanketed by what looked like tracer rounds, as if someone was firing full-auto all around the ship, never coming close to hitting it.
James felt a slight tremor, and a gradual increase in the thrumming sound he kept hearing since he had awoken earlier meant these were engines, and they were increasing their power output.
The Captain got up, and started towards a recess in the wall next to the viewscreen, motioning for James to follow.
He did, noticing there was a door in that recess, one that was invisible from the turbolift he had come out of.

The Captain looked at the XO, and said:
“You’re with me, and have Cmdr Teramak join us in the Ready Room. We will need his tactical input for this.”

“Eye, Sir!” she said, before hitting her Comm-badge and calling out to the Cmdr.
Then, before she followed, she passed command of the bridge to Lt. Garner, and entered the room on their heels.

[Praeothmin]

Chapter 8

The room they entered looked like many conference rooms James had seen in Corp offices, except that, as most rooms on the ship, it was sparsely furnished.
One plant decorated the room, and a plaque was hanging on the wall, at the center of the conference table.
It was the ship’s dedication plaque, as James could see, and right above it, attached to wall supports, was a replica of what he assumed was the ship, the USS Musashi.
It was 2 feet long, almost 1 and a half wide, and from the side, the ship’s prow looked a bit like a baleen whale, but when you looked at it from below, it looked like a thick Frisbee disk with catamaran like pylons attached to it.
James like the aesthetics of the ship, and found the curves of the hull graceful, yet powerful at the same time.
Looking at the raised pod at the back, remembering the Akira-class ship was a gunboat, he deduced it must be the torpedo pod, and noted, if the openings we indeed torpedo launchers, an impressive sixteen such launchers all around the ship, eleven of which were located in the pod itself, seven facing forward, and four facing aft.

“Take a seat.” Captain Kirkinger said to James.
“Do you want anything to drink?”

“Yeah, sure, I’d like a lemonade, please.” James answered, sitting down at the table.

The chairs were comfortable, and the cushions automatically adjusted to James’s body, like some sort of mimetic foam.
The Captain ordered the drinks, lemonade for James, milk-coffee for his XO and something called a “Rock-da-jee-no” for himself.
He ordered a fourth drink with James assumed was for Cmdr Teramak, one cup of katheka.
The smell was strong and pungent, and James wondered what it was made from.

“I think I should introduce you both to each other.” Said Kirkinger.
“James Raynolds, meet Cmdr Nathalie Tremblay, my XO, and one of the best in the fleet.” He said proudly.
“I had to fight tooth and nails to get her, and it forced me to cash in on a few favors, but she’s worth the effort, believe me.
Nathalie, meet James Reynolds, intruder.” He added with a smile.
“James can outfight the best of them, as you saw with Cmdr Teramak’s injuries.
And I have a feeling his “specialty” will help us in this mission.”

“You must be good indeed,” Cmdr Tremblay said, “because no one onboard can beat Teramak in hand-to-hand combat, despite the fact many of us are highly trained in unarmed combat.” She finished, again examining James from head to toe as she had done on the bridge.
Apparently satisfied with her scrutiny, she sat down at the table, followed by James and the Captain.

They were all seated, the Captain at the end of the table, Cmdr Tremblay to his right, when Cmdr Teramak entered.
He saluted the Captain and the XO and gave James as evil an eye as James had ever seen from someone, then took a seat opposite James, to the right of the XO.

“Now that we are all here,” the Captain said, “I will tell you about this mission.
A few minutes ago, I received communications from one of our listening posts on an M-class planet sitting at the Federation-Cardassian border, located 12 LY from here.
They told me that they had found something very important and that we should go and take a look as soon as it was possible.
As they were going to explain, their red alert klaxon was heard, and their sensors showed three ships approaching.
They were relaying information on the ships when we lost the transmission.
Ops believes it was jammed at the source.
Starfleet Command, when appraised of the situation, told us to go there and investigate.”

While the Captain was explaining the situation, James was studying the others, to see how they reacted, and how serious was their situation.
James felt they were most likely going into battle, having reached the conclusion the Federation was at war since the Captain had first spoken of the good old days of exploration.
While going in a fight didn’t really worry James too much, he was simply hoping they weren’t going on a suicide mission.
Although his current understanding of the situation, with the XO and Cmdr Teramak tense but not overly worried, and his perception of the Captain, a man who truly cared for his crew and would not likely sacrifice them for nothing, conveyed to James that this mission would certainly be dangerous, but feasible.

“From the information we received,” Kirkinger continued, “The arriving ships were three Dominion attack ships and one Cardassian destroyer, Keldon-class.”
He tapped a button on the small touch panel located on the table top in front of him, and a three-dimension holographic image appeared, containing the four ships in the report, and what appeared as schematic details of each ship floating around them.
The image was sharper, crisper than any hologram James had ever seen, but it no longer held any surprise where these people were concerned.
After all, he mused, how difficult is it to create perfect holograms to a society using matter replicators?
The Captain continued his report:

“We are certain the ships will send troops down to take over our post, and then steal whatever it was they found down there.
Our mission, first and foremost, is to find any survivors and bring them back with us.
Then, we need to find what it was the outpost’s team had discovered, and bring it back, or if we can’t, learn all we can about what it was.
And finally, make sure no Federation sensitive information falls into Cardassian-Dominion hands.”

The Captain paused, looking at everyone around the table, as if to judge their reactions, then continued.

“This will be difficult, as the ships will most likely be in orbit of the planet, above the listening post.
And while this ship can defeat any of theirs individually, we can’t take on all four simultaneously and win.
Suggestions?” he asked, as he looked first at his trusted XO, then at Cmdr Teramak, and finally at James, to make it clear he wanted suggestions from everyone, not just his crew.

Cmdr Tremblay looked at the display and, tapping the touch panel on the table in front of her, changed the view of the three-dimensional display, zooming out far enough so that their target planetary system was in view, with the ships no longer represented by images, but simply by dots.
On the planet’s surface, James could also see a dot representing what he assumed was the listening post.

“Well, we come in at all speeds, deploy a couple of fighters, and after the initial attack, when they’re wondering who to shoot at, we beam a contingent of troops on the surface, intent on retaking the listening post.” Said the XO, looking closely at Cmdr Teramak, clearly invinting him to assess her suggestion.
“I’m confident we can do this with an acceptable level of losses in Starfighters and personnel.”

“But,” Teramak added, “there’s a great risk to the ship while we beam them down, and once on the ground, we will no longer be able to offer space support, and our troops on the ground will be left on their own…” He didn’t seem to relish the prospect, and neither did the Captain.
“And even if we stayed to fight, the odds are against us, so much so that even if we won, we’d most likely be crippled, dead in the water as you humans say.”

“Sorry to interrupt,” James said tentatively, “ but what exactly do you mean by “beaming”?”

James was half expecting the answer he received, given all he had seen, but it still stunned him like a Troll’s punch to the head when he heard it.
It was Cmdr Tremblay who answered.

“We mean to disassemble their molecules, transform them into an energy matrix, and transmit that energy at a pre-decided point on the planet, and then transform that energy back into Starfleet officers.” She finished with a smile, obviously happy at James’s surprised expression.
“The problem is, in order to do this, we need to lower our protective shields, which makes the ship much more vulnerable to enemy fire.”

“Well, James, what do you think? Do you have any suggestions for this mission?” Kirkinger asked, the inflections in his voice clearly requesting an answer from James.

Teramak looked at James as if he was looking at a five year-old toddler who had proven unable to write the simplest word.
It was clear he didn’t think James had anything to offer to this mission.
James certainly did not want to give the Cmdr satisfaction, and so he told them what he thought, not holding anything back.

“I believe, as your officers do, that a frontal assault would mean our doom, and it is completely unnecessary.
Stealth and speed will be our allies in this mission, at least on the ground.”
He paused, looking again at the display, and seemed to come to a satisfactory conclusion.

“This ship can take out any ship in the group, you said.
Would it be able to, being a gunboat, to take it out in one volley, or at least cripple it?”
He looked at the Captain, who nodded.

“We would most likely overload its shields and blow it up if we fired all our tubes, but then we’d be a few seconds without torpedoes.” He concluded.

“We’ll only need one barrage,” James said confidently, “because right after the barrage, we’ll be through the enemy lines and exactly where we need to be.”
James went on to explain his plan, and when he was done, even Teramak looked at him in a different light.
He was still mad at him, James realized, but now there was definite respect in that look, one that James vowed to increase.

[Praeothmin]

Chapter 9

As the Musashi approached Feltin III, the planet on which the listening post had been constructed, the excitement on board the ship was felt everywhere.
Especially in James’s team.
The team was composed of some of the ship’s veteran Security Personnel, people who had seen combat before, and could keep cool under fire.
Each and everyone had been hand-picked by Cmdr Teramak and the XO, and each and everyone had been told that on this mission, the leader was James Reynolds, or as he would be called on this mission, “Shadowmaster”.
While surprise had etched every face at this announcement, none had offered a single complaint.
James had quickly understood that it was mostly because the order had come from Cmdr Teramak, a man these officers obviously respected.
A respect that was well earned, in James mind, because once his plan had been accepted, Cmdr Teramak had quickly made all the necessary preparations, including procurement of the strange equipment he’d requested.
And strange equipment it was for the Starfleet personnel, for anyone looking at them would have recognized the uniform colors, but not necessarily the uniforms.
Gone were the pyjama-like garments, replaced with body armour and a visored helmet.
James had told the Captain and his team in no uncertain terms that only idiots went into combat without any kind of protection.
Armour was useful, for even if it couldn’t protect you fully from your opponent’s weapons, it would protect you from a glancing hit, and could even make a difference between a deadly wound, and an incapacitating one.
While the Captain had not liked James calling Starfleet idiots for not equipping personnel in combat with armour, he was forced to accept the views of a man who’d seen more combat than anyone aboard, a man who knew exactly what he was talking about.
But while he wanted his men to be well protected, their non-familiarity with any kind of armour meant that James had to settle for light armour for them.
Being used to wearing some, he opted for Heavy armour, since he knew it wouldn’t slow him down, or alter his stealth much.
He had requested that all Helmets have Comm-Links and full audio and visual augmentations in them, including Infra-Red vision and Hearing Augmentation.
Using the replicators to manufacture the armours, James had had 6 full sets made in minutes, five for his team, and one for him.
The team had been limited to 6 members, because it had been decided that a smaller team could move faster, and hide easier than a big team.
Each team-member had a melee weapon of their choice, so they would maximize their efficiency in close quarters, and they all had a Type-III Phaser rifle as their main weapon, and a Type-II weapon in a special holster at their belt.
James had opted to use his Colt Manhunter as his main weapon, since it was the weapon he was most familiar with.
He did have a back-up weapon, which he intended to use if necessary.
They had called it a TR-116 projectile rifle; he called it the “Barrett of the future”.
It was a sniper rifle, nothing less, nothing more.
It fired Tritanium slugs at its target, the Tritanium making the slugs armour-piercing in nature, at targets up to 2km distant.
James was sure it would find itself useful during the mission, and since he was the most experienced with such a weapon type, he would be the one to use it.
He had had Teramak create a sound suppressor for the weapon, intent on making any shot as difficult to pinpoint as possible.
He also had the Cmdr replicate APDS rounds for his pistol, since they were going in fast, intent on hitting the enemy hard.
James understood they were in a war, so while he usually did not kill, he knew this was going to be a kill or be killed situation, very different from his usual missions, where guards - with the exception of the high-security location guards – were more interested in apprehending him than killing him.
And of course, each of James team-mates had the standard Starfleet Tricorder in order to detect enemies.
They were all sitting in the back of a craft, called a Runabout, checking their gear, and repeating the role each of them would take in the upcoming mission.

It reminded James of his military service, when he was younger and a lot more naïve.
He had been part of an elite Spec-Ops team, working for the UCAS armed forces, doing special missions for the good of the UCAS – or so he had thought at the time.
He had been doing missions for a full year, sometimes going up against Corps who acted against UCAS interests, sometimes against other countries - James usually acting as point man in these missions because, despite of his size, he had always been light on his feet- before he started realizing his superiors were just as corrupt as the people he went against.
James had been happy when he had found out that all his team-mates felt the same way he did, and as a group – filled with starry-eyed kids - they had decided to bring them to justice.
The men pulling the strings had been doing it for some years though, and they didn’t need much time to discern what James’s group was up to.
That was when they had decided to send James and his group on a mission deep in Aztlan territory, what was once called Costa Rica, under orders to capture and bring back a Shaman of Quetzalcoatl, for “crimes against the free world”.
The group went in, and realized very quickly that their intel was bad, so bad in fact that they had lost two men of the 8 men team in less then 10 hours.
Isolated, with no way of knowing what intel they could trust, they had decided to go back, and find a way to cross the border North back into the UCAS or the Sioux territories.
Luckily for them, their Shaman, Dancing Bear, was powerful and had many allied Spirits, so in the beginning, they had been able to make some headway back towards the North, towards home.
But then awakened creatures, creatures evolved from standard animals into magical beasts of legends, had come out and had started stalking them, attracted by the Shaman’s Spirits.
After a harrowing fight, they had decided it best to cut to the coast, and try to find a means of transportation out of Aztlan.
They had fought all the way to the coast, losing team members every day, until only Dancing Bear and James were left.
One morning, after narrowly avoiding a confrontation with a Feathered Serpent, they had exited the forest, and had found themselves on the coast.
They had exited on the top of a narrow cliff, overlooking the ocean, and had been looking for a way to get down when the Feathered Serpent had attacked again.
Dancing Bear, wounded, dying, and following his Totem’s teachings, gave his life in one last effort, flinging his most powerful spell at the creature, knowing it would kill him but that it would save his friend’s life.
In its death throes, the Serpent had caught James with a swing of its tail, and had propelled him over the cliff, down into the shark infested water.
The hit and the impact of the water had made James pass out, thinking it was the end for him.
But he had awakened in a small hut near the shore, where a fisherman had hauled him out of the water, and had tended to his wounds.
James had stayed there a few days, helping the old man with repairs to his house, fishing with him, until he was well enough to travel.
The old man had taken him to the nearest city, where James had used his training to climb aboard a cargo ship going north, to the more civilized lands.
James, after many days of hiding aboard the ship, had finally arrived in Seattle, where he had gotten off the ship, and had made the decision to make his army superiors pay for what they had done.
That was when he had abandoned his old identity, and had become James Reynolds.
That had been nine years ago, but the memories were always vivid in James’s mind, as he saw them every night when he went to sleep, and dreamt of his old team mates often.
And so, it was with these glum memories that James was about to go on a mission in this strange reality.

His teammates were finishing their preparations when their helmet’s Comm-links came to life.

“Cmdr Teramak to Shadow team, prepare to launch on my mark. Copy!”

“Shadow team here, ready when you are, copy!” was James’s reply.

“Launch in 5, 4, 3, 2, 1!” Then the Comm went silent, and the Runabout moved.

The plan James had hatched was that the Musashi would leave Warp once it had past the planet, and would then double back, hidden from enemy sensors by the planet itself.
While hidden from the enemy, the Musashi would launch 6 attack fighters and the Runabout.
Then, the Musashi would go full speed around the planet to the East, while the attack Fighters would circle the planet to the West.
The Akira’s greater sub light speed would ensure it arrived face-to-face with the enemy before the Fighters, ensuring their attack would be performed with a small surprise factor.
The Musashi was going to swoop in, fire a full torpedo volley from its four forward launchers in the torpedo pod, all aimed at the Galor-class ship.
It would then continue its attack, attracting the attention of the Dominion ships.
Meanwhile, the attack Fighters, coming in from behind the enemy forces, would fire all their micro-torpedoes at the hopefully already crippled Galor, and would then assist the Akira in the fight until
the Runabout gave the signal that the package was delivered.
While these two forces attacked the enemy forces, the Runabout, coming in from the North, would swoop in low through the Mountain range, and beam Shadow team a few kilometres higher up in the mountains, allowing them to recon the terrain before coming into contact with the enemy.
James had decided with this course of action when he had learned that the listening post, in order to decrease the possibilities of detection by enemies, had been built in these mountains where large deposits of Kelbomite – a mineral – made scanning very difficult because of its signal refraction capabilities.
James counted on those capabilities to make his team’s approach almost impossible to detect.
The high position also meant that any sniper would have a great view on the terrain below, and thus would be able to better support the infiltration team.
Once the team had been beamed down, the Runabout would then Warp out of the system and regroup with the rest of the attack group to pre-set coordinates, and would wait for reinforcements from Starfleet before coming back to retake the listening post, and reclaim its troop.
They had estimated one or two hours before receiving any reinforcements, and so the team would be on its own and would need to hold out until help arrived.

“ETA two minutes!” James heard the pilot call out.

The team took up position on the cargo transporter pad, some on the personnel transporter pads, and they waited.
James was much more nervous than he had been in many years, and he knew exactly where this nervousness came from: he was about to be disassembled in his constituent particles and them “beamed” to the surface of a world.
He had been told it was harmless, that the chances of a mishap were less than 1 in millions, he was still very nervous when he heard the transporter technician call:

“Shadow team, beaming down now!”

James felt a tingling sensation in his entire body as he was enveloped in a shimmering blue light, thinking “That’s how Teramak got the jump on me” as he saw the interior of the ship quickly being replaced by rocks, trees and a mountain side gradually sloping down to his left.
He realized, as the tingling slowly receded, that he was no longer standing on even footing, and that he had been beamed in the perfect position for his location.
The sophistication of the entire process seemed staggering to James, and he was once more impressed how scientifically advanced this Federation was.
Regaining his composure in the blink of an eye, James identified their current position on their wrist mounted GPS, which was powerful enough to give them a position even through the interference.
They were two point three kilometres away from the oupost, and so he ordered his team to start advancing, while he looked for a defensible position to set up his sniping post.
At first, they had planned for James to go with the team, and set someone else as the sniper, but James had quickly swept the idea away, as he came to the conclusion that he was the perfect sniper.
He had greater familiarity with solid slug rifles, and his reaction speed made him the perfect sniper, able to react to danger before anyone would even know it was there.
And if a sniper was no longer required, he was the fastest one on foot, and would be able to regroup with the team faster than anyone else.
So James went to work, looking for the most defensible position which afforded him the best view of the lower slopes and outpost entrance.
He found an outcropping topped with a bush, and a narrow ledge about twelve meters long leading to it.
The ledge wouldn’t easily be travelled by anyone not augmented like James, and the small bush would offer him cover from an observer coming down towards him.
He crossed the ledge rapidly, and set himself up in position, lying down on his stomach, setting his extra rifle clips next to his left hand for rapid reloads, and putting his APDS loaded Colt Manhunter on the ground to his right.
If anyone tried ambushing him, they’d be in for a surprise.
And so, for two hours, James watched his team as it slowly make its way to the outpost.
The guys were perhaps a hundred meters from their objective when it happened: James spotted many areas around the team begin to shimmer, before coalescing into the forms of Jem’ Hadar soldiers converging on his team, weapons at hand, ready to fire.
James spotted the Jem’Hadar closest to his team and fired three successive shots, each bullet scoring a hit at the center of his target.
The third Jem’Hadar soldier had jerked and was falling when the rifles’s first loud “crack” was heard by the group.
The sound suppressor, combined with the echoing effect from the mountain made any attempts to trace him practically impossible.
His team reacted perfectly in sync, all going down to one knee, covering all possible angles, and, after each picking a target, they fired.
The Jem’Hadar had been taken by surprise by the sudden death of their comrades and the loud noises, but had recovered quickly, and so when the Starfleet team opened fire, many Jem’Hadar returned fire, some even as they were falling down, dead.
Three Shadow team members fell down, the remaining four changing their aim to cover newly opened gaps in their fire zones and firing continuously into the advancing enemy.
The first assault by the Starfleet team had cut a swath of destruction on the attacking Jem’Hadar, killing ten in the initial volley, but more still came out of the underbrush to attack the Starfleet officers.
Unfortunately for them, dead rained upon them faster then they thought possible.
The first wave of Jem’Hadar were barely touching the ground when James had other targets lined up and had opened fire.
He picked his targets carefully, only shooting those Jem’Hadar who were in position to fire at his team.
Five shots and five more dead Jem’Hadar later, James was already ejecting the empty eight-round clip from his rifle and slapping a fresh one into place.
Another volley from his team at the approaching Jem’Hadar, hitting those who were getting into firing position, thinned the enemy ranks by four more.
Five more, though James, noticing one of his fallen teammates was still in the fight.
Ensign Rekmor had simply positioned himself flat on the ground, and had positioned his rifle in a way where he could fire it one-handed, and had taken his Phaser pistol in his other, covering another possible angle of attack with it.
He was obviously hurt, but still the consummate professional.
The Jem’Hadar had stopped the attack, hiding behind rocks and outcroppings, seemingly finally to realize that they couldn’t take down the invaders as easily as they had thought.
James was about to show them they weren’t even safe behind their rocks when they all turned around and looked at an approaching figure, obviously their leader considering the way they acted around him.
James called his team:

“They are regrouping behind some rocks, about twelve of them, possibly waiting for reinforcements.
Take the wounded, and head for the western trail from your area.” He said, “And I’ll take care of anyone who tries to follow. Head for the entrance to the outpost, and call me when you get there.”

“Roger that!” came the response, “And you’ll be happy to know we have no casualties… yet…”

He noticed one Jem’Hadar had looked at what resembled their version of a Tricorder while James was speaking, and now the soldier was going towards their leader, a thin humanoid with curly black hair, and great big ridged ears.
He showed him his instrument, and pointed at the screen.
Some Jem’Hadar were already going back towards James’s team, probably to see what they were doing, when he acted.
He took careful aim, and shot the Jem’Hadar’s leader in the head.
The large calibre round impacted hard, making the leader’s head explode like a ripe melon, showering everyone around with brain matter and blood.
The Jem’Hadar that was standing in front of their leader looked down, dumbfounded, and then fell backwards, a big red hole in his torso.
James fired six more rounds before the Jem’Hadar were able to find cover.
He waited until his team had reached the outpost’s entrance and gave the signal before packing his gear and leaving his position.
In the time it took for his team to reach the outpost, James did not fire another shot, so deep in hiding were the Dominion.

“Watch out guys, the Jem’Hadar may have cloaked again.” He said in the Comm-link.
“I’m on my way, begin penetration of the base.”

[sonofccn]

Not bad.

The three seashell refrence made me smile.

[Admiral Breetai]

hehe three sea shells Stallone disgusted allota folks when he mentioned how it was used in one interview

[Praeothmin]

Chapter 10

James quickly made his way down the same trail his team had followed earlier, his collapsible stick in his left hand, his Manhunter in his right, ever alert for possible ambushes, ready to react at a moment’s notice.
His enhanced agility allowed him to easily keep his footing on the uneven ground, and so although he was careful to be as quiet as possible, he was running down the trail, making good time towards the outpost.
As he was nearing the location of the battle between his team and the Jem’Hadar, he slowed down, studied the terrain, and picked an alternate route that would bring him near where the Jem’Hadar had regrouped, and then lost their leaders.
He approached cautiously, making as little noise as possible in his armour, which for a man his size was very little indeed, and crept forward.
He inspected every nook and cranny of the area, looking at the bodies to see if he could find anything interesting or helpful, and when he found nothing useful for him, he moved on towards the outpost.
That was when they came at him.

He was rounding a huge boulder to the left, easily as high as his shoulders, when he saw the air shimmer to his right, revealing a Jem’Hadar soldier, with a two-handed weapon that looked like a cross between a sword and a shortened Naginata, who was already in a slashing motion aimed at his gun hand.
At the same time, he heard light footsteps at his back, as if someone was advancing on him.
His reflexes and years of combat experience took over, eliminating the thought process between perception and reaction, and James exploded into motion.
He sidestepped to his right and went into a pivot to his left side, at the same time lowering his right hand to his side while his left hand, the one holding his collapsible stick, crossed over in an upward motion to intercept the sword at an angle and deflect it wide.
The Jem’Hadar was strong, much stronger than an average human, and was holding his weapon with both hands, but he simply could not compete with James’s strength, augmented as it was.
James had always been big and strong, and had always trained hard to be the strongest his body would allow him to be, enabling him to lift fully grown men his size over his head as easily as one would lift a child.
But then he had it enhanced through Bioware, to the point where James was now stronger then an average Troll, able to lift a Harley Davidson bike overhead and throw it at an opponent, which he had done in the past to great effect.
So it was no surprise when the blade was deflected wide, James keeping enough momentum to finish his pivot - now standing to the left of the Jem’Hadar - and cold-cock him using his Manhunter with sufficient force to crack his skull.
Before his first opponent was even fully down, James had turned around, brought his gun to bear on the second attacker, and had fired twice, at point blank.
The light armour barely slowed the armour-piercing rounds, so they exited the Jem’Hadar’s body at his back and went ricocheting on some boulders.
That’s when James noticed the third attacker, a Jem’Hadar who hadn’t come at him in close combats, but had positioned himself behind a boulder, kneeling and aiming, waiting for an opportunity to shoot his enemy.
As James realized, the opportunity was now, and the soldier fired.
James tried to evade, diving to the side, but he had already committed himself on his previous attacks, and reacted too slowly.
He was halfway in a sidelong dive when the energy bolt hit him on his right flank.
He felt the impact, smelled the burned material, and thought he felt a slight burn on his side, but he still managed to roll upon impacting the ground, the impact making him lose his grip on his stick, and when he came out of his roll, kneeling with his gun aimed at the Jem’Hadar, his enemy knew his doom.
Except he didn’t try to evade as James had, he simply tried to realign his gun and fire as James, hoping, perhaps, to take his enemy down with him.
But once again, in a world where people had no augmented reflexes, James was faster, and he fired twice, hitting the soldier in the head, making the Jem’Hadar’s shot go wide, impacting a boulder explosively.
Still on one knee, James examined his surroundings for a few minutes, trying to find another enemy in ambush.
He also used the time to see how bad he was hit, but found that his armour had protected him well.
The shot had not fully penetrated the armour, although he now had a large hole in his right side – large enough for his fist to go through - and saw pink flesh where fabric had once been.
He touched his side, and noticed no wound.
Satisfied, he slowly got up in a crouching position, collected his collapsible stick and started towards the outpost.

He made after another 30 minutes of creeping around, arriving in view of the outpost’s entrance.
He noticed many bodies lying around, all of them Jem’Hadar, some even piled in the doorway, as if they had been killed trying to penetrate the building.
This meant his team had successfully bypassed the building’s security, and were inside.
What James needed to find out now was if they had encountered any resistance and how they were faring.
He went in cautiously, his Manhunter leading the way, though his finger wasn’t on the trigger.
If he encountered his teammates first, he didn’t want to accidently shoot them.
While they were wearing better armour than the Jem’Hadar, James aimed to kill, and his AP rounds would go through their light armour.
His senses fully alert, James crept forward ever so slowly – for him.
He was going pretty fast by human standard, and so had covered most of the base in less than 20 minutes.
He was glad to see only Jem’Hadar bodies were to be found, though that still didn’t mean his team was in good shape.
After all, they had two wounded men with them, and their condition could have worsened with the continued fighting, and the time it took James to get down from his perch to the outpost.
He estimated they had beamed down more than two hours ago, and so he felt confident help was on the way, but they still hadn’t completed their mission topside, and there was the possibility enemy reinforcements were also coming.
He rounded a bend in a corridor when he heard shouting and what he recognized as Phaser and Jem’Hadar weapon’s fire.
He accelerated, using his augmented reflexes and speed to their fullest, and came up to the backs of six Jem’Hadar.
They were crowding an entrance to some room James couldn’t see, some crouching in the doorway, using the walls as partial cover while they fired inside, while others were standing next to them, waiting for an opportunity to lean in the doorway and fire in the room.
He stopped at the corridor’s end, dropped to one knee, took aim, and fired.
He had emptied his entire clip before the Jem’Hadar had even reacted to the first shots, and he reloaded as they were falling to the floor, all 6 of them dead.
He waited for a few seconds before calling out to his team, and when they replied, he let out a relieved sigh.

“I’m coming in,” he said, “So don’t shoot!”

He entered the room, and noticed that his teammates had used overturned tables, libraries and chairs as cover.
Their barricade was covered with holes, like giant pieces of Swiss cheese.

“How is everyone?” He asked.

“Doc was able to successfully treat Finley and Rekmor,” Lt. Harriman said, nodding at the two team members who had been shot by the Jem’Hadar earlier, “They’re banged up, but operational.
Unfortunately, he was shot himself in that last fight. We all have basic First Aid training, but we haven’t been able to stabilize him, and he’s losing a lot of blood.
These damn Jemmies have some sort of component in their weapons that keeps wounds from clotting.”

James looked at “Doc”, one Lt. Ron Epstein, and immediately knew the guy was in trouble.
He had been hit in the thigh, and James could see hit femoral artery had been sectioned.
The guys had put a semblance of a tourniquet on the Doc’s upper thigh, but James knew it wouldn’t stop him from bleeding out, or from losing the leg if not treated soon enough.

“Do you have anything that can close blood vessels in the kit?” He asked.

Lt. Harriman pointed to a device, and quickly showed James how to use it.
“But we don’t know how bad it is, or if we’ll actually make it worse if we start working around the artery.”

“Let me worry about the artery and its repair, and you make sure everything is sanitized before I go in.” James said, taking his armor gloves and his helmet off.
Lt. Harriman looked at his with wide eyes.

“You know how repair an artery?” He asked incredulously.

“Probably not like you guys do it, but yeah, I do.” He said while sanitizing his hands.
“I was an intern for a year in a hospital before I decided I didn’t like it and quit.
The skills are useful in our line of work though.” He finished with a smile.

He was glad Cmdr Numorr wasn’t there, or she would have known he was lying.
James had actually learned all he knew – and he knew much – on his own, since not having a SIN, a System Identification Number, he was forever barred from enrolling in any school, and his knowledge had to come from library medical books.
He also knew his teammates would most likely not allow him to help the Doc if they knew his only practice had been on himself and some other Shadowrunning team members after tough missions.

“Now, I need clean gauze, and someone to wipe the blood off the instruments once I’ve used them.”

“Adams, you guard the entrance and stay alert. They may be coming in for another assault. Don’t trust your eyes, trust the audio enhancers in your helmet instead.” Harriman called while preparing James’s instruments.

Once everything was ready, James started his work, Harriman assisting him as best he could.
It actually ended up being easier than expected, as even though the wound was severe, and the Med Kit limited when compared to a full medical bay, the Starfleet technology once again proved to be quite efficient.
In less than 10 minutes, James had sutured the artery, closed the wound, and stabilized the Doc.
While Doc would not be able to move on his own, and wasn’t even conscious, he was breathing regularly, and his pulse was stable.
James knew he would need more advanced treatments and a blood transfusion aboard the Musashi, but he was out of danger for now.

Once his medical duty was over, James and the rest of the team re-arranged the defences in the room more properly, even using the dead Jem’Hadar to shore up their defense “wall”, and then they searched the outpost’s database to find out what was so important they needed the ship to come quickly to meet with them.
They found references to an Orb of Reality, which made Rekmor gasp in surprise.

“What is it?” James asked the man.

Rekmor started to reply, but then, unsure, looked at Harriman for support.

“Don’t tell me you still don’t trust him after he’s done for us, you damn fool.” Harriman growled.
“This is information he needs to know, and you’re the best one to tell him, since it’s your religion that is concerned.”

James understood Reknor’s hesitation, and, looking at him, said:
“I’m willing to listen if you’re willing to tell me about it.
Knowledge always helps on missions, so I apologize if talking about it violates a religious code, but our lives could depend on this knowledge.”

“You’re right sir, I apologize,” Said Reknor sheepishly, “ It has nothing to do with a code, it is simply that my people take this very seriously.
I am Bajoran, that’s why I have these ridges on my nose, you see!”
James looked surprised, because he had thought Reknor a human with a skin condition.
“The Orbs of the Prophets, our Gods if you will, are ancient relics that legends say were sent to the Bajoran people by the Prophets, through the Celestial Temple.
Starfleet calls the Temple a “Wormhole”, and it is located near to Bajor.
You see, our Gods exist, and one of Starfleet’s officers, Commander Benjamin Sisko, has been chosen by them to be their Emissary to the Bajoran people.
These Orbs had been stolen by the Cardassians during their occupation of Bajor, and some have been returned since.
They are a great treasure to my people, but they can also be dangerous.
They are physical, and of energy at the same time.
When one finds an Orb, one must be cautious around it.”

Not sure if he believed everything Lt. Reknor had told him, James resumed searching for information on the Orb of Reality.
It wasn’t long before he found out it was in the outpost, in a secure vault in the Commanding officer’s room.
He got the security codes, and left the room.
He got to the command center quickly, and saw this was where the outpost’s Starfleet officers had made their last stand.
Bodies were littering the floor, all shot many times, but James took satisfaction in counting almost as many dead enemies as there were Starfleet personnel.
Why am I proud of that, he wondered, I’m not part of their fleet. As soon as they find a way to send me back, I’m leaving. What do I care if they win or lose?
Looking at the bodies, thinking back at how he was treated, and the way the people acted, he received his answer.
Because they’re good people, that’s why. And no matter what I do in life, how I make my living, I’ll always respect and admire good people.
He paid his respects to the dead officers, and then looked for the Commander’s room.
When he found it, he went in, and opened the vault.
What he found was an ornately decorated square box, approximately eight feet cubed, with small double doors at the front.
Not wanting to run any risks, James didn’t open the door, and approached the box carefully.
He looked for possible traps, and found none, so he grabbed the box which felt very light to him, and he went back to join his teammates.
When he arrived, he tried to contact the ship.

“Shadowmaster to USS Musashi. Come in, Musashi!” He said, his voice even, calm.

“Musashi here,” Came the reply, “What’s your status, Shadowmaster?”

“We’ve found what we were looking for, and are ready to be beamed up. Three of us need to be beamed up in Sick-Bay, but I am happy to announce we have no casualties.” James said.
“Unfortunately, none of the outpost’s officers survived.” He added soberly.
What about you guys?”

“We were not so fortunate in our assault, as we lost one fighter during the initial skirmish, and the attacks have resulted in two more casualties on the Musashi.
The second attack went much better though, and we were able to clear out the skies for you.
Give us a few seconds, we’ll beam you right out”.

Once again, the air around James began to shimmer, and within seconds the familiar surroundings of the Musashi’s main transporter room replaced the outpost’s walls.
As James stepped off the transporter pad, the doors to the room hissed open, and Captain Kirkinger entered, followed by Cmdr T’Len.

“Nice work!” He said, smiling, but with a hint of sadness in his eyes.
“I’m sorry you couldn’t find any survivors down there, but I’m glad the entire team made it.
I’m willing to bet you’re responsible for this success.” He finished with a smile.

“Actually,” James started, “You’re officers performed admirably well. They remained cool and level-headed under fire, when a lot of seasoned officers could have panicked.” He appraised honestly.
“I’m glad they were there. They penetrated the outpost without me, and held off all following attacks, while managing to stabilize the wounded team members.
I honestly could not have done it without them.”

Captain Kirkinger beamed at James’s comment.
He was obviously proud of his officers, and James felt he had every right to be.
Then his brow furrowed, and James noticed he was looking straight at the Orb’s containment box.

“What is that?” He asked.

“One of your officers, Lt. Reknor, called it “the Orb of the Prophets.”

The Captain’s expression changed to one of great surprise, and then one of great worry.
James noticed this, and didn’t like it one bit.

“What’s wrong?” He asked, intently studying the Captain’s face.

“Starfleet has dealt with these… Orbs… in the past, and they were always the cause of much trouble.
Temporal anomalies, special displacements, all uncontrollable, all yielding great headaches for Starfleet headquarters.” He finished.

“And it would seem it will be the source of trouble again, Sir.” Said Cmdr T’Len, who had been in the back of the room, silently scanning the Orb.

“What do you mean?” Kirkinger asked with alarm in his voice.

“Sir, please bear in mind these are only preliminary scans, and as such are not the most precise…” She was interrupted by an impatient Captain before she could finish.

“Yes, yes, I understand, now get to the point Cmdr.”

“Well, “ She resumed, undaunted, “The Orb’s is emitting high energy Chroniton particles and some Verterons.
It is at present “dormant”, one could say, “She added when she saw the Captain’s face, “so it poses no immediate threat.
Also, and I find this most curious, its Quantum Resonance frequency matches the one from our guest.”

[Admiral Breetai]

lol the reaction to the orb of the prophets that was epic great chapters

[Praeothmin]

Chapter 11

James and Kirkinger were both shocked at the comment, and both looked at the Orb’s container with some apprehension.
Looking at the Captain, then at T’Len, James then slowly approached the box, and extended his right hand.
Still unsure, he looked at the Captain and the Cmdr again, noticed the Captain nodding his assent, and opened the box.

“Mother fragger!” He said.
The Orb was an orb in name only, as it was shaped as an hourglass, about one foot tall, and half that width.
It was silvery, shimmering, almost as if it didn’t fully exist on the same reality as James.
But the kicker was that he recognized the substance the Orb was made out of immediately.

“It’s made of Oricalchum!” He finished.

That comment elicited the Captain’s curiosity, as well as the Vulcan’s.

“You’ve seen an Orb before?” He probed.

“No, but I’ve seen the material it’s made of. It’s the most powerful magical material one can find. It’s also what I was holding when I was transported here…” He let the last sentence hang in the air, puzzled at the existence of Oricalchum here, now, on this ship.
T’Len picked up on James’s line of thought instantly.

“You believe this is the reason you were transported here, and that it may hold the answer to your return home.”

James nodded absently.

“A logical assumption, considering all the gathered evidence.” She continued.

“But before we can explore this venue, we need to contact Starfleet to see what they think of this, and what they want to do with this Orb.” Kirkinger said.
James’s stomach knotted, as he felt certain Starfleet’s orders would be to bring the object to them for further study, delaying his return home.
While he did enjoy his situation, finding himself in the presence of an advanced civilization, he was worried for his teammates back in Seattle.
How were they faring now that he was gone.
Had Managuy been injured, or worse, killed after he had disappeared?

So it was with great apprehension that he followed the Captain back to his ready room for the call to Starfleet.
He was so eager to know what the decision was going to be, he didn’t take the time to take his armour off before going to the ready room.

When the Captain called Starfleet, he began by telling them of their “guest”, how he had come aboard, and how he had been released and even brought in on a critical Starfleet mission.
That at first hadn’t gone too well with Starfleet Command, but then they had been reminded by the Captain that he had rarely made an error when judging someone’s character and neither had his Doctor.
Starfleet relented, and so he told them about the critical mission that had just been completed successfully because of the input of their guest.
The Starfleet Admiral at the other end of the video feed seemed to relax somewhat at that, and moved on to the important matter.
In the end, James’s fears were half confirmed.
The good news was that the Orb would remain on ship for the next two days while one of Starfleet’s lead scientists, one Doctor Jeral Not’Yirl, would travel to their location on a Federation high speed transport.
Starfleet could not afford to have the Musashi leave the front lines to bring the Orb to Earth, so it was decided someone would come and get it, and then bring it back to Earth.
So the crew of the Musashi had two days to examine the object.
The bad news was, as soon as Doctor Not’Yirl arrived, he would take the Orb and get back to Starfleet command with it to study it, taking James’s hopes of getting home with it.
When the communication was over, Captain Kirkinger tapped his communicator and called out to Cmdr T’Len.

“Get to work on a way to get our friend home. You have two days. Let your crew worry about the repairs, they know their job.” The Captain said.
“T’Len here, understood Sir.”

He looked at James.
“Don’t worry James, we’ll get you back to your friends and family.” He said, his voice full of confidence.

“Thank you!” James replied.
“I know this is not your problem, and you have much more important things to do. I appreciate everything you’re doing and trying to do for me.” He said honestly.
“I want to repay you for your help.
Is there anything I can help with?”

Kirkinger looked at James, pensive, and then seemed to think of something.

“Since our technology is far beyond what you are used to, you can’t really help in repairs, and while you do seem to have medical knowledge, there’s no one onboard more qualified in Sickbay than the Doctor, but there is one place where your skills have proven themselves more than adequate, if not simply superior to ours: combat missions, and combat strategies in general.
I’d like you to talk to Cmdr Teramak and help him improve our competence in that area.”

James wasn’t so sure it was a good idea, considering the way Teramak reacted to him.
Sure, they had developed some sort of respect for each other in preparation for the mission James had just completed with the Security Chief’s team, but he had still felt some anger from Teramak towards him during that time.
He decided not to tell the Captain, because he did not want to put the Cmdr in trouble, and increase the resentment Teramak had for him.

“Sure,” He said, “It will be my pleasure. It’s the least I can do for all the kindness you’ve shown me.
If you don’t mind though, I think I’ll take a shower and sleep for a few hours fist. I think my body needs it.” He said with a smile.
The Captain smiled as well, nodded his ascent, and went back to his work.

James left the Ready room, made his way to his quarters and, once there, stripped out of his armour.
He took a sonic shower and then, before he even went to bed, he used the replicator to repair his damaged armour and then cleaned it, and he stripped and cleaned his guns and replenished his ammo.
Once his equipment was taken care of, he had the replicator prepare him a high protein drink which he consumed, and then he went to bed.
The bed was very comfortable, the foam mattress adapting perfectly to the shape of his body, and so he slept well.
He allowed himself to sleep until fully rested, as he had been awake for more than 38 hours and had been extremely active in that time period.
He knew he wasn’t going to be wasting much time – although he had learned a long time ago that sleep was never a waste of time-, because one of the first augmentations he had done on his body was the addition of a modified Pineal gland, also called a sleep-regulator gland.
The end result was that he only needed to sleep for four hours once per 48 hours, which was very useful in his line of work.
Once rested, he got up, drank another protein drink, put on his repaired and cleaned form-fitting body armour under a layer of ballistic clothing, and called Cmdr Teramak using the Comm-badge he had been given.

“Teramak here!” Was the gruff answer.

“Cmdr, this is James Reynolds. The Captain asked me to offer you my assistance in mission preparations and planning. He feels my experience would help this crew to be more efficient.”
He waited for a heated retort, an insult, a prideful rebuttal saying they didn’t need his help, so he was surprised when Teramak answered.

“Mr. Reynolds, I would be pleased if you would care to share your knowledge with me and my crew. Your capabilities are held in high regards by the crewmembers who accompanied you on this afternoon’s mission. I too share the Captain’s belief that you would help us greatly in increasing our efficiency and success rate in upcoming missions.
I will await you in the main Security quarters.
Simply ask the computer for directions, it will guide you to us. Teramak out.”
The voice had still been gruff, but the tone was one of respect.
James truly didn’t know what to think of it.
He exited his quarters, and followed the computer’s indications to the main Security quarters on Deck 5.
He arrived at his destination within minutes, and entered when the doors hissed open when they detected him.
As he entered, he noticed Lt. Harriman was there in company of Cmdr Teramak.

“There’s our Super Soldier!” He exclaimed with a wide grin.
“You’ll be happy to know that Doc is fine, and should be up and running in two days, all thanks to you.” He finished with a heavy clap on James’s shoulder.
His eyes widened a bit when James barely moved under the impact.

“Lt., I was serious when I told the Captain this mission would not have been successful without you and the rest of the team.”
Lt. Harriman beamed at the comment.
“You guys were efficient, and worked well together.
You accepted my commands without any hesitation because you trusted your commanding Officers’ call, and yourselves.
I would gladly go on a mission with you guys anytime, anyplace, because I know I can count on you.” He said, dead serious.
“And that’s something not many can say.
That’s not something you learn in books, or even with an instructor, it’s something you learn by yourself.
Either you’ve got it or you don’t, and you guys definitely do.” He finished.

“First, Sir, since you aren’t a Starfleet officer, it’s Mike, not Lt., and second, your planning and equipment got us there, and your shooting helped us out of very tight spots, so I’d say you had a very big part in this mission’s success.
But I do agree the boys and I did kick some serious Jemmie butt.” He said with a grin.

James kept looking at Teramak while he was talking with Harriman, and noticed that, while his gaze was still stern, the Cmdr no longer seemed angry at James, no longer seemed like he wanted to rip James’s eyes out.
That intrigued James very much, and he decided he wanted to know the reason for it all.

“Ok then, Mike, in that case, since I’m not a Starfleet officer,” He repeated with Mike’s tone, “ You call me James.
And yes, you guys did kick some serious ass back there.
Now, if I could ask you for a favour: could you leave the Cmdr and me alone for a few minutes?
There are a few things I need to talk about with him.”

Harriman was unsure on what to do, so he looked at the Cmdr, who nodded.
“Yeah, sure Si… James!
I’ll be right out if you need me Cmdr.”
And then he left the room.

James didn’t even have time to ask anything, as Teramak started talking as soon as Harriman had left.
“You want to know how I feel about you now, because of my earlier actions and body language, correct?” He asked calmly.

“Well, yes, I am a bit puzzled, I’ll have to admit.
When I woke up in Sick Bay this morning, you were apparently willing to kill me.
That didn’t really unnerve me, not because I felt you weren’t capable,” He added as he thought he saw a flash of anger in the Cmdr’s eyes, which abated as soon as he had clarified his thought, “But because this was something I know and am used to dealing with.”
Teramak almost smiled at that comment.
“But then, the more time passes, the more you seem calm, and unthreatening.
And that I’m not used to.
Why?”

Teramak seemed a bit pensive when he answered.
“As the Captain told you this morning, I am an Andorian, and we are a proud race, a warrior race, not unlike the Klingons when you think about it, even though my people will always deny this truth.
We have pride in our capabilities, and we are eager to show them when we can.
I can tell you in all honesty, I am a very good unarmed fighter, and have fought against Jem’Hadar, Gorn, Cardassians and Klingons alike, and while I have been beaten once or twice, I have never been so utterly crushed as I was this morning.
You injured much more than my body this morning, you injured my pride, and for an Andorian, there is no worse injury.
I was so filled with anger and rage at that beating that, had my Phaser been set to Kill, I am not certain I would have reverted it to Stun.
I couldn’t accept the fact you had beaten a team of my security officers and myself, in addition to the Doctor.”Teramak’s eyes took on a different look when he mentioned the Doctor, so James understood not all the anger had come from the beating he’d given Teramak, but that some of that anger came from the fact he could have hurt the Doctor.
He was unsure what to do of that, because of his own budding feelings for the Doctor.
Teramak continued.
“And when you woke up, so defiant after what you had done, I wanted to go over to your bed and throttle you right there.
But that would not have been honourable, and the Captain might not have liked that.” He half-joked.
“But then I went to my quarters and meditated, using a technique T’Len has shown me.
And I realized where my anger was coming from, and was able to control it somewhat.
Until I was told YOU were going to show US how to do our jobs.
You had trounced me twice in one day.
That was too much for me, and so I came in the Ready room with every intention to destroy any suggestions you might have, but then I couldn’t, because I realized your plans would increase the chances of survival of my men, and that by participating, you would indeed also boost the success rate of the mission tenfold.
No matter how much anger I felt towards you, I knew that anyone who could defeat us like you did would only increase our chances of success.
And while I am a prideful man, I care about the people who work with me, and I feel it in my gut every time one of them dies.
You see James, these people are now my family, and we Andorians take family very seriously.
And so I owe you for saving members of my family.
When the Captain suggested you could help us train and prepare for upcoming missions, I had been talking to Lt. Harriman about the one you had just completed, and he had given me a full report, so I knew of your contributions, and I knew I wanted your help, and would have asked for it had you not offered.”

Teramak extended his hand to James, and when James shook it, all he could see in Teramak’s eyes was respect and pride.

“I will do my best to transfer all I know.” James said.

“I know you will!” Was all Teramak replied.
And so they spent the rest of the evening talking about different types of missions, James explaining how he would plan for it, and when a plan was deemed impractical because of technological issues, James would think a bit and then propose alternatives.
But it wasn’t just James’s plans and proposals that were accepted or listened to.
James realized that these men and women knew their jobs, but were limited by Starfleet doctrine and regulations in many cases, and in some cases were limited by the absence of such rules and regulations.
The use of armour, for example, widely seen in the 23rd century, was not banned or regulated, it was simply abandoned in peace time, and the peace mentality of Starfleet and the Federation, always afraid to be seen like warmongers, simply kept the concept of armour buried in history.
But Starfleet officers had every right to use them, and so plans for manufacturing of suits of light armour for all Security officers were made.
They would wear a lighter version on the ship, but would wear the full suit on missions.
Since most Starfleet enemies used energy weapons, they decided to use a composite Duranium alloy as the main material, since Duranium was highly energy resistant, and also resistant to physical impacts and projectiles.
This would result in a very lightweight armour, yet highly resistant.
The only drawback is that the armour would need to be manufactured using the industrial replicators in the main shuttle bays because the suits were extremely power intensive to make, and no standard replicators were up to the job.
They had also decided to manufacture at least a dozen TR-116 rifles, because their extreme range capabilities were quite useful in many cases.
And when Teramak was too tired to continue, James took over the preparations with his blessings.
At first, though, the Cmdr had insisted James also went to bed, since he had been up for some time, and had only slept a few hours in the afternoon.
And while he admitted James didn’t look tired at all, he reminded James that in combat, you always slept when the occasion presented itself, because you never knew when you could sleep next.
So when James told him about his modified sleep gland, requiring James to sleep only 4 hours every two days, the Cmdr simply shook his head in amused surprise, and left James to work.

The preparations took all night, the new team, the “night shift” –so called even though the night and day cycles on any ship were artificial- replacing the “afternoon shift” in helping James.
All of them were surprised, agreeably so, by the new equipment they would use under the new mission and security plans from James and Teramak.
James was finishing the creation of the final armors, when his Comm-badge chirped.

“Cmdr T’Len to Mr. Reynolds! Could you come to the Engineering department at your earliest convenience, please.” The Cmdr finished.

“James here,” He answered, “Be right there.”

And so once again he followed the computer’s instructions in order to get to Engineering.
Once he got there, he saw the Captain and the XO, all looking at some strange contraption, obviously recently fabricated because it seemed like it had no outer casing, and tubes and wires were running all over it.
It looked like some kind of Espresso maker, cylindrical; less than two feet tall, and the display attached to it was more advanced than on any Espresso machine James had ever seen.
It was currently being operated by Cmdr T’Len.

“… And you believe this will recreate the conditions for James’s arrival here by using the Orb’s own energy matrix?” Kirkinger was asking.

“Yes Sir,” T’Len responded, “By inversing the quantum transfluctuation matrix on the isolinear inverter, I believe I can create a sub-space pulse of trans-dimensional energy through our reality.”

“What’s all this… Techno-babble?” James asked.

“Ah, our trans-dimensional time traveller has arrived.” T’Len said, matter-of-factly.
“I was simply explaining to the Captain how I planned to send you home. You see…” T’Len was starting, when James interrupted her.

“It’s ok, Cmdr, I heard it the first time, and I doubt I’ll understand any more the second time around.” He finished with a sheepish smile.

“Don’t worry James,” Natalie said, “While I understand the underlying principle, I don’t understand the exact workings myself.” She said, smiling warmly at James.

James really started to like those smiles, but he quickly pushed those feelings away, knowing full well that he was about to be sent home and that any emotional attachments would only make things harder.
Cmdr T’Len looked at the Captain, and then at James.

“I am ready to start if you are, Mr. Reynolds. As I told the Captain, all preliminary tests have been made while you were helping our Security Chief.
Captain Kirkinger has approved our solution, and so the decision rests on your shoulders.” She finished, and looked intensely at James.

She was waiting for an answer, he realized, but more than that, the way he answered would also indicate his resolve, something she was evaluating, it seemed.
He held no hesitation when he answered:

“I’m ready when you are.” He said, stranding straight.

“Good! We will power up the Orb, and create an opening in the Space-Time barrier. As soon as it is stabilized, we will use the Quantum Resonance controller to match its frequency to yours.
Once everything matches, we will widen the aperture to allow your passage, and then send you home.
Once you’re through, we will then close the aperture, and Starfleet will be able to play with their new toy.” She said casually.

James hoped that things were going to be as simple as she had explained them, but he knew from experience that they rarely were.
He prepared himself mentally, but then thought to ask for a few moments to go and say goodbye to the Doctor, finally deciding against it.
He really did have budding feelings for the Doctor, even if he’d known her only for a day, and he knew it would be harder for him to leave if he saw her again.
And so he said nothing, and waited for the doorway home in silence.

“Powering the Orb!” Said T’Len, who went on to describe in details everything she was doing.
James was slowly getting annoyed at this, and he saw that even the Captain and his XO seemed bored by the incessant chattering of their Engineer.
Everything was going well, and James was starting to zone out, thinking of home, and his friends, until he heard T’Len’s tone changing.

“Captain, I’m reading a rapid increase in the Orb’s power output, and it is draining more and more power from the system.” T’Len indicated.

“Can you shut it down?” Kirkinger asked.

“No sir, it appears the Orb is now controlling its power consumption rate.
Sir, it now appears the Orb is somehow feeding directly off the Warp Core.
At this rate, the aperture will consume the ship in about 10 seconds.”
As she was explaining, James saw T’Len’s fingers were flying over panels, probably trying to shut down the entire operation.
The Captain seemed stressed, and kept asking T’Len to shut the aperture, but it was clear the Engineer no longer controlled the process.
The aperture quickly gained in size, and in seconds encompassed the entire engineering section, and eventually, they all figured, the ship.
There was a brief power surge in the Warp Core, and just as all the ship’s power shut down, there was a bright flash of light, one James had seen before when he had been transported to the ship.
There was an enormous jolt, and everyone except for James lost their footing, some being knocked to the ground while others hit walls and panels.
There were some loud creaking noises, as if the ship itself was being squeezed by forces, and then everything stopped.

[Praeothmin]

Chapter 12

For a short while, the ship was silent, the creaking having ceased, the power apparently slowly returning.
The Orb seemed powered down, the Espresso machine circuits fused and melted.
The lights were slowly returning, emergency batteries now taking up the slack from the dead fusion reactors and Warp Core.

“Damage Report!” Called the Captain with a firm voice.

“Nothing yet to report Sir, as we have no main power. Only life support is working for now, apparently only on battery reserves.” T’Len responded.
“I’m showing power coming back online slowly all over the ship, but we still don’t have main power, and sensors are not operational.”

“Get main power online as soon as possible, this is your first priority. I don’t want us crashing into another ship, or on the planet’s surface.” Kirkinger said.
“Bring us to Yellow Alert, I’ll be on the bridge. James, Number One, you’re with me.”

With that, he left Engineering and made his way to the bridge, James and Cmdr Tremblay on his heels.
As they entered the bridge, James’s enhanced hearing picked out a weak noise, apparently appearing at random all over the ship.
It sounded like heavy raindrops falling on a car’s top, heard from the inside.
The noise was weak, and for the moment was heard sporadically.

“Do you guys hear that?” He asked at no one in particular.

“No, what is it?” Asked Cmdr Tremblay.

“I’m not sure, it sounds almost like the beginning of a heavy rainstorm, when the first drops fall.”
He kept listening, analyzing the noise coming to his ears.
As he was concentrating, the noise intensified dramatically, and what at first had sounded like raindrops now sounded like heavy hail.
It was clear to James, judging by the reactions of those on the bridge, that they now heard it too.

“Are we being hit by an asteroid shower?” The Captain asked, looking at the Conn officer.

“I don’t know Sir, sensors are still offline, but if these are asteroids, they are certainly very small.” He finished, before returning his attention to his control panel.

The Captain had just touched his Comm-badge when the ship was rocked hard by a great impact.
The way it had moved, it seemed like something big had impacted the underside of the saucer, lifting it up rapidly.
Before anyone could react, four more such impacts reverberated upon the ship, shaking it ever more violently.
And then power came back through the entire ship.

“Shields! Shields!” Cmdr Tremblay shouted.

As the Tactical officer was struggling to get up and activate the shields, another impact tilted the ship on its side, throwing people around the bridge like pins in a bowling lane.
Except, once again, for James.
His augmented reflexes, balance and strength all contributed in his ability to stand, and allowed him to make his way to the Tactical station with his enhanced speed.
He located the shields activation button, and hit it.
He saw the graphic representation of the shields envelop the ship just as another asteroid impacted.
But this time, with the shields up, the ship barely lurched.

“Damage Report!” Called the Captain, once again worried about his ship and its crew.

“Minor hull breaches on decks 16 to 18, structural integrity fields holding. No casualties reported.” The Conn officer said.

James was helping the Tactical officer up when he spotted six dots on the radar screen, coming straight for the ship.

“Incoming!” He yelled, and everyone grabbed on to whatever was near them.

The six objects impacted on the shields, and though the ship rocked, it was nowhere near the power of the previous hits.

“Shields are holding Captain, though they are down at 67%.” The Tactical officer said.

“What hit us, Lt.?” The XO asked.

“It appears to have been missiles, Sir, and they originated from two unidentified ships, ten kilometres below us. There are two more identical ships in the same vicinity, and a fifth ship, different then the other four, still unknown, sitting right on top of us.
I also read many smaller crafts, most likely fighter crafts, flying around Sir.”

“How many?” Asked the Captain.

“Over two hundred Sir!” Was the surprised reply.

“Where’s the rest of the fleet, Lt.? Where they taken by surprise like us, or are they fighting back?” Kirkinger eagerly asked.

“Unknown Sir, I do not read any Starfleet ships anywhere near.
We’re still in orbit of the planet Sir, but the fleet is nowhere to be found.
According to sensors, we’re no longer on the Cardassian border.
Sir, one of the four ships just targeted two smaller unidentified vessels coming up from the planet.
The ships are unshielded Sir, impacts like the ones that hit us will destroy them.
The missiles will impact in 20 seconds.”

“Damn! What can we do?” The Captain thought aloud.
“Helm,” the Captain called, “lay in an intercept course; I want us to be between those missiles and these smaller ships. I will not allow a massacre to happen, no matter who are the good guys or the bad guys.” He said in a tone that did nothing to hide his resolve.
“We’ll sort out this mess later.”

The view screen, now working, showed the ship moving towards the planet, towards the two unprotected ships that were coming up to face their doom.
They tried to perform evasive maneuvers, but it was clear that they wouldn’t succeed.
A few seconds before the missiles could hit their targets, however, the Musashi flew over them, and its shields absorbed the missiles’ impacts.
The Musashi trembled under the hits, but its shields held.

“Shields down to 62%, Captain.” The Tactical officer called out.

“Target the weapons of the ship that just fired, and disable them. Then we’ll offer them to talk.
I’m sure it’s an offer they won’t refuse.” Kirkinger ordered.

“Impossible Sir, I’m reading hundreds of weapons’ emplacements on the ship, and their power distribution isn’t centralised. They have power nodes all over the ship. The only way to disable them is to destroy them, Sir.”

This ship description seemed familiar to Captain Kirkinger, as James saw his eyes widen upon hearing it.

“I want a full scan of those ships. Who controls them?” He asked with urgency.

“I am reading thousands of beings, mostly mechanical, but some combine organics and… “ There was a pause in the description, “Cybernetics, Sir.”

Kirkinger’s eyes went as wide as they could at that statement, and for the first time since James had met him, he was as close to panic as one could be.

“The Borg! Target all weapons on the lead ship and fire… Do it NOW!” Kirkinger yelled as the Tactical officer seemed to be frozen in place.
He snapped out of it quickly, and his fingers ran across the console, acquiring a target and hitting the fire button repeatedly.
On the main screen, the image changed to one ship, strangely shaped, with two Y-shaped hulls attached at their centers by a single pylon, in a distinctive "star" shape.
It was enormous, easily over a kilometre in length.

Phaser beams streaked by in rapid succession, each beam carving up huge holes in the ship, one shot passing clean through to hit another enemy ship behind it.
Then the torpedoes came into view.
Eight glowing spheres of pulsating light advancing at high speeds towards the enemy ship.
Some small fighter crafts attempted to shoot them down, but those that did succeed in hitting the torpedoes had no effect.
Then the torpedoes hit home.
The first one tore off one of the arms of the ship; the second one hit dead center and destroyed the attaching pylon.
Each torpedo hit with so much force, the ship was completely destroyed after the first 4 torpedoes hit.
The four remaining torpedoes continued on, impacting the same ship that had been hit by the over penetrating Phaser shot.
It too was completely destroyed, barely leaving behind a cloud of debris so small, that the biggest piece would have fit in a shuttle.

James was awestruck by the power the Starfleet weapons possessed, but he realized, looking at the crew on the bridge, that they were also amazed at the destruction they had witnessed.
They barely had time to register all that had transpired when the two remaining enemy ships vanished in a flash of light, as well as all the smaller unarmed ships.

The only remaining ship, aside from the Musashi, was the target of the enemy’s fire, the big, blocky looking ship now onscreen.
It was long, well over a kilometre and a half, and wider than the Musashi was long.
It looked like a huge metallic alligator with no tail.
It had taken quite a beating, bleeding oxygen in many places, its blackened and tortured hull -glowing red in some parts- made it look like it was about to fall to pieces, yet it remained, still ready for a fight, it seemed.

“What’s its status?” Kirkinger asked.

“It is heavily damaged, though still operational. Its guns are all targeted at us, but it is not firing, and all its fighters are apparently returning to their launch pads.” The Tactical officer replied.

“What’s our status?” Cmdr Tremblay asked of the Conn officer.

“As stated earlier, minor hull breaches, no casualties and only light injuries all over the ship, from the initial impacts.” Was the answer.

“Good, then let’s intro…” The Captain started to say before an alert started beeping on the Tactical console.

“Sir, sensors detect another ship has just appeared in firing range. It has the same design as the first one, but it is much bigger.” Said the Lt., putting the new ship onscreen.
It was indeed similar to the first one, yet the size difference was staggering.
“They are targeting all weapons on us… They’re firing Sir!”He finished.

They saw projectiles being fired from the new ship come at them at incredible speeds, impacting less than a second later on the shields of the Musashi.
Yet, just as it had the enemy’s missiles, the Akira’s shields fully repelled the assault, the ship shaking slightly under the impacts.

“Shields holding Sir, down to 56%!” The Tactical officer called out.
After the first shots, a multitude of smaller guns fired volley after volley at the Musashi, yet these guns did not have the power necessary to pose a threat to the shielded ship.
Volley after volley were fired, volley after volley were repelled.

The Conn officer lifted his head and said to the Captain:
“Sir, the damaged ship is sending an encrypted message to the new ship, audio only, but we’ve decrypted it easily.”

“Let’s hear it!” Was the Captain’s reply.

“This is Galactica Actual to Pegasus, cease fire! I repeat, cease fire!” Said a throaty voice.

All of a sudden, the new ship stopped firing.
It continued on its way, though, and placed itself between the damaged ship and the Musashi, clearly protecting it.

“All right,” Said Kirkinger, “Stand down from Red Alert to Yellow Alert. All teams to damage control, I want this ship in top shape asap.
Tactical, I want a full scan of the destroyed enemy ships.
If they were Borg, they were of a new kind, and I want to know about it.
Conn, get us these ships on the line. It seems the Universal Translator works well, so let’s use it.” He finished.

“Yes Sir, except the transmission was in English, Sir, the UT wasn’t needed.” The Conn officer replied.
“I even scanned the other ship, and could only find humans lifesigns, nothing else.”

James read surprise on the Captain’s face at that statement, but the Captain brushed it off quickly, and waited for the Conn officer to contact the other ships.

“We’ve got a signal Sir, audio only!” He said.

“To the Commanding officers of the two unknown ships, this is Captain Damien Kirkinger of the Federation ship USS Musashi. We are not your enemy. Our actions earlier were in our own defence, and the defence of two unarmed ships.”
He stopped talking, and eagerly awaited an answer which came quickly.

“This is Admiral William Adama, Commanding Officer of the Battlestar Galactica, of the Colonial fleet.” The throaty voice said. “We thank you for your intervention and the destruction of those two Cylon ships. We would like to meet with you face to face, if possible, to discuss the situation.”

“Of course Admiral, it would be my pleasure to meet with you.” Kirkinger said.
“Where would you like the meeting to be?”

There was a short wait before the voice replied:
“Here, on Galactica. And to show you we mean you no harm either, to ease any suspicions you might have, our second ship, the Pegasus, will leave orbit and rejoin our fleet. How about we meet in thirty minutes, on Galactica’s Port deck? Adama out!”

And with that, there was silence on the line.

“Lt. Monroe,” The Captain said to the Tactical officer, “Lower shields, and stand down from Yellow Alert. I want all available crew on Damage control, stat.
A also want a complete report on those debris scans you took transferred to my chair.
James,” Kirkinger said turning to him, “While we do want to show that we trust them, and I want that first meeting be as peaceful as possible, I would be in your debt if you would be willing to accompany me on this meeting, as my bodyguard.
I would feel much safer that way.
Also, there is the fact that I do not want to alarm them unnecessarily by showing up with my Chief Tactical Officer who happens to be Andorian.” He said honestly.

“It would be my pleasure, Captain!” James said.
Mostly because it is my fault all of this is happening, he thought.
“If I may, we should also bring Lt. Harriman with us, as he would also be a very efficient bodyguard.”

“Good idea! Please make the necessary preparations, accounting for a peaceful encounter, and then you and Harriman meet me at Shuttlebay 3 in twenty-five minutes.” The Captain ordered.
“In the meantime, I’ll try to learn about our Cyborg friends.”

James was making his way to the main Security quarters when he encountered Cmdr Teramak.

“The Captain has told me what he’s planning, and what your role will be.” He said.
“Lt. Harriman is a good choice, since I cannot go with you.”

He took something out of one of his uniform pockets, and handed it to James.
The three devices were small, barely two centimetres long by one centimetre wide.

“These are Beryllium patches. Make sure each one of you, most importantly the Captain, sticks one on his uniform, somewhere discreet.
These patches will allow us to always keep a sensor lock on you, no matter where you are, or how much interference there is.
If you guys get into trouble and we can’t beam you out, we’ll know exactly where to go look for you.
I have to get to my post on the bridge, so good luck!” He said, and walked away without waiting for a reply.

James joined Lt. Harriman at the main Security quarters, where they equipped themselves lightly, wearing only the Form-Fitting Armours and Armour Vests James had had manufactured, and James only brought his ManHunter pistol with him, loaded with Gel bullets.
Harriman had a small palm-sized Phaser that he hid in a utility pouch of his uniform.
They were ready in no time at all, and were in Shuttlebay 3 ten minutes before the Captain.
They spent that time deciding how they would position themselves, this time James letting Harriman make most of the planning, since the Lt. had, in addition to his basic Starfleet training, graduated from Starfleet’s Close Protection school, a branch of Starfleet Academy dealing with close protection for Diplomats and high ranking Federation Officials.

Harriman decided that, since James was the bigger of the two men, he would be the one to stand guard near the Captain, since most of the attention would be directed towards him.
This would give Harriman greater time to react to any threat, and allow him to scan for potential hidden dangers while James would keep his attention on the people in their presence.

When the Captain arrived, they were ready.
They entered the shuttle with an Ensign pilot, and prepared for takeoff.
The shuttle slowly lifted off the ground, very smoothly, and then exited from one of the rear hangar doors.
It slowly made its way around the Musashi, who was now facing the Galactica.
From the front, it was even more impressive, and James couldn’t help but admire the ship.
While Federation ships were aesthetically pleasing, full of curves and shapes that made them look more like works of art than the impressive tools they actually were, the Galactica was all business.
It was boxy, the color of coal, and there wasn’t one single line designed to please the eye.
James liked that.
The design indicated that these people, whoever they were, had a very straightforward way of dealing with combat.
They were direct, and completely unapologetic about it, if their ship design was anything to go by.
And from James’s experience, which he acquired in the army and dealing with MegaCorps, one could usually gather much information about a culture or group by looking at the way they designed and built things.

The exception to this rule, James had recently learned, was the United Federation of Planets.
James had wondered, upon getting a first glimpse of the Federation ships, and the way their crews acted, at how many enemies had made the mistake of underestimating how powerful Starfleet vessels were, or how dedicated their crew could be.
How many enemies realised only too late that they shouldn’t have started a war with the Federation, all because they had perceived it as a weak entity, easily scared off, simply because its ships were graceful, and apparently not designed for combat.
James was certain it was not the case with these Colonial officers.
They had seen how easily the Musashi had disposed of two enemy ships, and how easily it had repelled the fire from their bigger ship when it had come to the rescue.
All of it while not running at maximum efficiency, James thought.
They will treat us with respect, and a little bit of fear, he mused, and so may be more dangerous if we let our guard down.

The Type-6 shuttle quickly covered the distance between the two ships, and landed inside the port launch bay, on a landing pad.
The pad slowly descended inside the ship’s port flight deck, its bustle of activity slowly coming into view.
The deck was, as the sensors had indicated, filled only with humans.
Some were crew members, judging by their uniforms, while others were probably refugees from the fleet that had escaped the planet below.
James saw a lot of people who were obviously part of the security force on the ship, but what was so curious is that they were wearing uniforms reminiscent of James’s old Marines combat fatigues.
They were moving with purpose and efficiency, showing they were highly trained, and would be dangerous in a firefight.
As the pad was nearing its resting position, a small detachment of Marines, led by a stern man, made its way towards the shuttlecraft.
The man was in his mid-fifties with salt-and-pepper hair, and a similarly colored moustache.
He walked with a determined stride, his back straight, and his gaze rock solid.
Every time he looked at somebody, that person would seem to shrink under that gaze, as if the man was the devil himself.
Yet on second examination, James realized it was not out of fear that the people averted their gaze, but out of respect, the respect one would give the caretaker of a family, or a man of importance.
This man, then, James concluded, was Admiral Adama.
Taking up his position to the front left of Captain Kirkinger, James lowered the exit ramp to the back of the shuttle, and walked down the ramp where he waited for the Admiral to reach them.
His eyes were constantly surveying their surroundings, but mostly the group approaching them, as he knew Lt. Harriman was going to keep an eye out on threats from farther away.

Upon seeing James, the Admiral’s ayes had widened ever so slightly, but sufficiently for James to notice.
The people accompanying him, though, were not as subtle.
A lot of the Marines with the Admiral had reacted with surprise at James’s size, and were now devoting most of their attention on him, just as Harriman had predicted.
They were definitely a bit nervous about the hulking human coming out of the shuttle, wearing combat armor similar to theirs, and armed with a big pistol in a hip holster.
Some were more cautious and kept looking around, some even scrutinizing the Lt., recognizing that he was, just as James’s was, the security detail for the Captain.
What James figured unnerved them the most was that, while there were 6 of them, there were only two security guards with the Starfleet Captain, two guards fully relaxed, not intimidated in the least.
Captain Kirkinger noticed the approaching man, and seemed to reach the same conclusion as James.

“Admiral Adama, I presume.” He said to the older man.

“Captain Kirkinger, it is a pleasure to meet you.” Said the man with his deep, throaty voice.
“Pardon the armed escort, but events of late have forced me to be more prudent.” He was studying Captain Kirkinger intensely, openly, apparently searching for something only he could find.

“I understand perfectly well, Admiral, for as you can see, I too have come escorted.” The Captain was completely undaunted by that scrutiny, as he had weathered far more intense stares from his own Admiral a day earlier.

“Indeed, although I am surprised that you only brought two men with you, as the meeting is held here, on possibly hostile territory.” Admiral Adama said.
His tone was a matter-of-fact one, not threatening at all.

“I sensed no deception in your voice when we spoke,” Kirkinger explained, “and so I felt a smaller security team was the best way to go for a first encounter. Although I have to admit I do have two of my best personal guards with me, so I feel safe enough.
Besides, Starfleet rarely believes in the “show of strength” kind of first encounters, we prefer more peaceful approaches, today’s battle notwithstanding.” He finished with half a grin.

“If you will follow me, then, Captain, we will talk in my personal quarters. We will be more comfortable there.”

They started off towards the middle of the ship, James hoping the beryllium patches would truly help the Musashi crew keep track of them.
Just in case it couldn’t, James memorized the way as much as possible in the case they had to get out fast.

“Speaking of today’s battle,” the Admiral said while they were walking, “I would like to thank you on behalf of my crew, and of the people of the Colonies of Kobol.
Were it not for your intervention earlier, we might have lost a lot of people in the battle, not to mention one of the Battlestars.
Your timely arrival has transformed what would have been a bloody victory into a hard one, but a good one.”

“Glad we could help, although our arrival here wasn’t intentional.” Kirkinger seemed to hesitate before deciding he could say what he wanted to the Admiral.
“In fact, we don’t really know where “here” is. We were hoping you could help us determine that, in case our scans of the surrounding stars don’t help us.”

James felt a great degree of familiarity while walking through the ship’s corridors.
Although they were larger then the military ships he was used to, the hatches were similar, the layout as well, and the dull grey color of the walls also reminded him navy ships.
This ship was not in any way similar to the Federation ships.
It was stark, brutal, definitely a military ship, unlike the “cruise ship” aspects of Federation vessels.
The ship had been banged up a lot, he noticed walking down its corridors, repair crews working intensely at every other bend, it seemed.
The Captain had seen it too.
James knew it was just a matter of time before he offered some help for the repairs.
But what truly held James’s attention was a corridor between the Launch Deck and their destination, its walls filled with pictures of people, children, parents and grand-parents alike, all placed in no specific order.
The entire corridor filled James with a sense of loss, of sadness, of lives broken by these pictures, as he came to understand this was a memorial of some kind, commemorating the loss of many people to some cataclysmic event, such as a war.

They made their way through the ship, and finally arrived at the Admiral’s quarters.
They entered, James and Harriman on the Captain’s heels, while three of the armed Marines entered the quarters as well.
The Admiral indicated a chair in front of a wooden desk, and when the Captain sat down, he asked:
“Would you like anything to drink?”

“Water would be nice, thank you.” Answered Kirkinger.

After serving a glass of water to him and the Captain, the Admiral sat down in a plush leather chair behind the desk.

“Captain,” the Admiral began as he was comfortably seated, “You said that your arrival here was unexpected. Did you make a mistake in your FTL coordinates calculations?
And, I think, more importantly, where did you expect to arrive?”

“Actually, we weren’t expecting to leave our previous location at all.” The Captain answered.
“We were testing new technology, when it apparently backfired, and created some kind of spatial wormhole which brought us here.
My vessel suffered some damage during the transit, which is why we were helpless when we arrived here.”

The last statement merited a curious look from the Admiral.

“Your ship looked anything but helpless. It took the brunt of a Cylon attack directly to its hull without much damage, and then, all of a sudden, it was as if the Cylon missiles were not even hitting you, according to some of our pilots.
And then, as if this wasn’t enough, you took down two Baseships with lasers and eight missiles, none of which registered as nuclear.
You clearly possess technology well in advance of ours, yet you are human, just as us.
At first, we thought you may be a new type of Cylon never encountered before, but this just doesn’t match with what I’m seeing right now.
Still, it is a possibility, yet you clearly defended us and the other humans, so whether you are humans or Cylons, you are our allies for the moment.
Which brings me to the question I want answered most: where are you from, Captain Kirkinger of the USS Musashi?”

“Well, that’s an easy question to answer,” Kirkinger said, “We come from a planet called Earth.”