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

[Praeothmin]

And here's the action piece...


Chapter 20

It was silently floating in space, a graceful behemoth almost twice the size of a Basestar, with smaller ships flying about, like moths flying around a flame, patrolling around it, and protecting it.
The Cylon Raiders flew in tight formations, always half-a-dozen strong, with over a hundred such formations filling the space around the resurrection hub.
Farther away, forming some kind of protecting ring around the hub, were nine Basestars, floating lazily in a protective pattern.

Suddenly, in a flash of bright white light, an intruder appeared at a few thousand kilometres away.
It was smaller than the Basestars, sleek and fast, and all the Cylon Dradises immediately painted it as an enemy ship.
It pointed itself towards the hub, and accelerated towards it.
Frantic signals emanated from one Basestar in particular, recognizing the enemy that had so easily destroyed two of their sister ships a few weeks before.
The fearful Basestar sent a signal to the hub, telling it to use its FTL and run away, in order to secure itself, in fact also sending the same advice to all ships in presence.
But before any of them could do so, golden lances of energy emerged from the approaching enemy ship.
Three such beams hit the Resurrection hub in specific locations, instantly disabling its FTL capability.
The hub sent a panicked message to all Basestars, indicating its predicament, asking for help.
The CYlon Raiders all converged on the incoming ship, firing all they had, including their missiles, but every weapon was stopped by a glowing blue field surrounding the enemy ship.
The first Raiders to intercept the ship had not know about this, and thus ploughed right into the shield of the advancing attacker, getting destroyed in the process.
All other Raiders immediately veered off, and sped away from the impregnable force field.

The Basestars’ strategy was different, however.
Instead of going towards the enemy, they all converged in front of it, in order to block its path, and thus its targeting solution, to the hub.
At the same time, they fired loads upon loads of missiles at it.

“Captain,” Said Cmdr. Teramak, “I read enemy weapons fired at us.
Impact in less than two minutes.”

“How many?” Kirkinger asked.

“Over eighty missiles, Sir!” A surprised Teramak said.

“Re-route all emergency power to forward shields, and try to take out as many missiles as you can.” The Captain ordered the Tactical officer.

“Phasers would be ineffective against so many missiles, but a few Photon Torpedoes set for close detonation would take out many of them.” Teramak stated.

“Make it so!” Was all Kirkinger replied.

The Tactical Officer’s fingers flew over the console, unleashing a quick spread of four small yellow suns that streaked towards the incoming Cylon missile barrage.
They detonated amidst the missile swarm, destroying the majority of them, but close to fifty successfully passed through.

“Brace for impact!” The Captain yelled, his call reverberating through the ship’s speakers.

The missiles impacted on the Akira-class’s forward shields, rocking the ship violently, throwing a few people to the floor, while others were thrown against bulkheads.
On the bridge, one console sparked and exploded, luckily injuring no one in the process, the automated fire suppressant systems ensuring no flames could form.

“Shields down to fifty percent!” Teramak stated.

“Helm, evasive maneuvers, show them our Dorsal shields. Teramak, target those ships and fire at will, but only use Phasers for now, use the Torpedoes as flak protection.” The Captain ordered.
“Let’s hope we can last long enough for our little surprise to work.”

***
The little ship materialized in an explosion of white, searing light, on the other side of the Resurrection hub, away from the action and all the enemy ships.
The Raptor’s sub light engines briefly flared, pushing it towards one of the landing bays of the hub.
As the pilot quickly and expertly landed it inside the pressurized bay, its door opened, and its passengers got out.
Four men exited the craft in standard cover formation, each of them wearing full combat armor and armed with Type-3 Phaser rifles.
Their leader, a hulking man wearing an even heavier suit of armor, armed only with a silenced heavy pistol in an underarm holster, jumped down from the craft, making no noise upon contact with the floor, despite his armor.
He gestured to his team, each and every one of them handpicked for this mission, and they immediately took position around the craft, ensuring its protection, as it was their only way out of there.
The group’s leader signalled the pilot to stay in the craft, and leave the engines on for a quick escape.
The pilot was clearly uncomfortable being so close to his sworn enemies, but did his best to hide it, and stay calm.
Satisfied his troops were properly positioned, he turned around and sprinted out of the landing bay.
He moved so fast he had looked like a blur to his teammates, still surprising them someone so big could move so fast, even though they had seen him in action before.

The man moved quickly and purposefully through he winding corridors of the hub, following the plan he had been given.
He was making good time towards his objective, moving with a rapid gait, but very silently, as stealth was important.
He rounded a bend and found himself face to face with a metallic humanoid being, just as tall as he was, if not taller.
The humanoid’s body was slim, with a face that looked like a closed medieval helmet, long limbs and fingers that ended in sharp claws.
Its body jerked up, as if surprised, then the Cylon –because it was a Cylon- attacked him.
It swung its right arm across his face, claws extended, or tried to.
As the arm started swinging, he stepped back, leaning backwards, letting the swing pass him by, and then he took a right step forward, bringing him back inside the Cylon’s range.
His right arm moved up to intercept the incoming backhand, stopping it in its track, to the surprise of both combatants.
He had expected the hit to push him back, where he would have been in the perfect position to hit the Cylon’s right leg behind the knee joint and bring him down and attack its head, but the blow, while strong, had only moved him slightly.
The Cylon’s surprise, again only inferred y its body movements and slight hesitation, showed it had not expected its blow to have been stopped so completely either.
Knowing he didn’t have much time, the armoured man lifted his left leg and kicked the Cylon in the torso with all his strength, pushing it a few feet back, and again surprising it at the strength of his obviously human opponent.
In a blinding move, the man drew his weapon and fired three times at the Cylon’s head.
Even silenced, the weapon made loud noises in the corridor.
The armor-piercing rounds cored through the Cylon’s head, destroying its processor, shutting down its body, stopping it mid-step towards him.
It fell down to the floor in a clanking noise, which the man would have normally prevented, but having fired his gun, he had decided the Cylon’s body could not be noisier than his weapon.
All thoughts of stealth gone, the man, his weapon still in hand, started running towards his objective.
The plans he had been given were extremely precise, so he was there in less than two minutes.

The room he entered was devoid of furniture.
The only thing inside was some sort of reservoir, two and a half meters long by one and a half meters wide.
He could see some type of controls at the head of the reservoir, and tubes running from and to it.
It was filled with some kind of viscous liquid, and the man could see a form inside it.
Satisfied he was at the right place, he opened his backpack, and brought out a Tricorder.
He opened it and made sure it was working correctly.
The room had only two entry points, neither one with a door, so he kept an eye on both while working.
He went to the controls, and operated it as he had been shown, disconnecting it from the hub’s network, and connecting it to the modified Tricorder.
Once he was certain the connection was good, he activated the transfer application.
All the information contained in the Tricorder was transferred to the reservoir’s computer in less than ten seconds.
Once that was done, he realized that he was going to have to do what he hated the most on missions: wait.
He didn’t have to wait for too long, though, because less than a minute later, the form moved in the reservoir.
A slim hand lifted from the viscous cocoon, and grabbed the side of the reservoir, pulling the rest of the body up with it.
Then the form, slightly disoriented, sat there and looked around.
Seeing him, she smiled.

“I’m happy to see you’re a man of your word, James.” Boomer said.
“I wasn’t sure your Captain truly meant it when he said he was willing to get me a body.”

“I’m glad he was,” James replied, “Because it’s a nice one.”

Boomer understood the implied intention and, her smile turning sheepish, she said:
“I hope I don’t have to run through corridors naked, James.”

Smiling, even though she couldn’t see him through his helmet’s visor, he pulled out a towel from his backpack and handed it to her, as well as some clothing.

“As much as I’d like that, I would be hard pressed to concentrate on the mission.” He said with clear humour in his voice, turning his back to her, offering some privacy.

Blushing at the comment, she stepped out of the reservoir, towelled herself off, and dressed up.

***

“Shields down to twenty-three percent!” called Teramak.
“Minor Hull breach on decks 15 and 16, Port Torpedo launchers are offline.
The Doctor reports three casualties.”

The bridge was in disarray, as during the fight a few other consoles had blow up, seriously injuring one crewmember, and hurting a few others.
The ship was continually being pelted with missiles, Teramak expanding more and more Torpedoes to protect it.
The fight wasn’t going that well for the other side either, though, as the Musashi’s Phaser barrage had destroyed three ships, and crippled another, leaving the Akira-class vessel to contend against five enemy Basestars.
The remaining Basestars fought like cornered beasts, though, and were making the Musashi pay for each and every kill.

“How much more time does James have?” Captain Kirkinger asked the Cmdr.

“Less than five minutes.” Was the reply.

“Let’s hope he’s as good as we all think he is, because I sure as hell don’t want to read his eulogy.” Kirkinger added.

“If this continues, Sir, he’ll have to read ours.” Teramak replied.

****

Once Boomer was dressed up and ready to go, James handed her an extra pistol, headed out of the resurrection room, and lead the way back to the waiting Raptor.
They didn’t make it far before they encountered Cylon patrols.
Two Cylon centurions, as Boomer had called them, appeared at the other end of a corridor in front of them.
Before they could react, however, James had lifted his weapon and fired six times, three shots per Centurion, all of them headshots.
As with the first one, these two fell down immediately, their central processors destroyed.

“God, you’re fast!” Boomer whispered.

He signalled for her to follow, and continued on as fast as he could while still remaining slow enough for Boomer to keep up.
They were making good time though, because while Boomer wasn’t as fast as he was, she was still faster than an un-augmented human.
They were nearing the landing bay, Boomer trailing slightly behind him, when he heard her yelp in surprise.
He whirled around like lightning, and saw a Centurion grab her by the wrists.
It was starting to pull her with it, obviously the stronger of the two, when James put three rounds in its head.
As he was turning around to scan for other enemies, a Centurion grabbed James’s right hand, and lifted it high, aiming the barrel at the ceiling.
James let go of his weapon, caught it with his left hand, and emptied the rest of his clip in his opponent.
As the Centurion fell down, James ejected the empty clip from his pistol and went for a fresh one.
He couldn’t complete the move because a Centurion speared him in the gut, doubling James over, knocking the wind out of him, and throwing him to the ground.
It let itself fall over James, pinning him momentarily to the floor.
Its right hand pinned James’s gun wielding left to the ground, and its right hand, claws fully extended, went for his armor’s neck joint, its weakest point.
Again, James’s strength and speed saved him, for his right hand caught the Centurion’s mid-distance, and stopped it, if only temporarily.
He then lifted his right leg and, twisting sideways out from under the Cylon, brought it up and over its head, to finally wrap it around the unprotected neck.
His left leg coming up against the Cylon’s torso for leverage, just below its right armpit, James bucked and stiffened his legs.
The intended effect happened, and the macine’s neck broke under the strain, disconnecting the head from the body.
Gunfire erupted, and James looked up to see Boomer firing down a corridor, most likely at other Centurions.
One was at her back, holding its right hand in front, apparently frozen.
Its fingers then bent backwards, spreading out as they did, and two tubes extended from the Centurion’s arm.
James realized it was a gun as the machine was taking aim at Boomer’s back.
As he freed himself from his damaged attacker, and started running towards the Cylon intent on killing Boomer, the short staccato of an SMG was heard, and shots ricocheted around James, some even hitting his armor.
He felt the impact as one or two rounds penetrated the back of his armor, one close to his left kidney, the other hitting the underside of his left arm.
His Pain Compensators went into overdrive, and a heartbeat later he barely felt anything as his blood started pouring out from his wounds.
As he reached his opponent, his left hand shot out and grabbed the Centurion’s right hand, while his right hand reached at his belt, retrieving his collapsible stick.
He lifted the Cylon’s arm as it started spewing hot lead -the first bullets whizzing centimetres above Boomer’s head- and made it turn in a large circle, up overhead, and then down back towards the other Centurion, all the while still firing.
Bullets were chewing the walls, the ceiling, and when the guns pointed at the Centurion who had shot James, the bullets chewed its body apart.
At the same time James was doing this, his right hand snapped, extending the stick, and then he brought it up and around, through the Cylon’s visor, penetrating deep in its head.
The Cylon jerked a bit, and then fell limply to the floor.
Looking at Boomer, he noticed she had dropped to one knee in a defensive crouch in his direction, her eyes showing panic.
At first, James thought she was panicking because of the shots that had almost gotten her, but then he realised that she was looking behind him, and whet was panicking her was there.
He whirled around in a crouch, ready to attack, and found himself facing a small man wearing black clothing, like that of a priest.
He had a weathered face, like a man for whom life had not been kind, and in one hand he was holding a cigar.
His eyes were piercing, with an intense gaze James had rarely seen.
The two Centurions behind him, with their guns trained on James and Boomer were what had stopped James in his tracks, though.

“I’m sure you can take a few shots and survive, my big friend, but she won’t.” Said the man.

Looking at Boomer, he said:
“I’m disappointed in you, travelling with these monsters, these killers.
Do you know what they can do if they destroy this hub?
They will eliminate our race.
YOUR race.
Is that what you wish?”

“They are simply doing what we did to the Colonials, Cavill.” Boomer said defiantly.
“They are simply equalizing the playing field.”

“God doesn’t want the playing field equalized, my deluded child.” He replied.
“God wants US, his real children, to prevail, and destroy this parasitic infection calling itself humanity, in order to bring light to this Galaxy.
Look at them, so weak and worthless.
They fear death, when we do not, when we need not.
Even now, our ships are showing these demons what it costs to attack us, God’s creatures.
Each and everyone they kill shall come back here, in this, our version of immortality.
While they willow away in time, we will still be here.
When their pathetic race has been forgotten, we will still be here.
I still have hope for you, Sharon, but you need to purge these emotions you have developed for these worthless creatures, and you need to ask yourself this question:
Do I want to die like these animals, or live as a god?”

James looked at Boomer, and saw she was hesitating, her gun-holding hand trembling.
She looked into Cavill’s eyes, and for a long while she seemed to mull over what he had said.
James knew he’d have to act soon, sure he would prevail in this situation, even unarmed, but he wondered if he’d have to take her out too.
Then, her trembling stopped.
She looked up, straight into Cavill’s eyes, and he knew what she was going to do before she did it.

“I want to live, I want to FEEL my life, to fear losing it in order to savor every moment of it.” She said as she raised her gun towards Cavill’s face, at the same time the Centurions fired.
James had already moved between Boomer and the Centurions, though, and his armor took the brunt of the attack.
Half the bullets tore through his protective plating, the damage overloading his Pain Compensators in an intense flash of pain.
He heard Boomer cry out in surprise, her gun firing, and he lost consciousness as two golden beams erupted from the Centurions’ chests, destroying them.
Then Blackness enveloped him.

***

“Sir, we’ve lost our forward shields, and overall shielding is at thirteen percent.” A tense Cmdr. Teramak stated.
“If we take another volley like this, we might not survive it.”

The Musashi rocked again, this time hit solidly, and the explosion drowned out the Captain’s reply.
The fight had gone from bad to worse, even though the Musashi had destroyed two other Basestars.
The three remaining ones, and the Resurrection hub now fighting for its survival, were unleashing everything they had at the Federation ship.
Raiders, realizing their weapons were useless, had decided that ramming the enemy ship was better than to let it near the hub, and so they had started to fly directly at the Musashi, crashing into its weakened shields, and in some places, into its bare hull.
Plasma was venting from many hull breaches, and two more Torpedo launchers were now offline.

“Target the hub and fire all remaining torpedo tubes,” Captain Kirkinger said, “It’s too late for our team aboard the hub.
We need to take them out now, or we’ll never get another chance.” He yelled at Teramak over the noise.

“All tubes loaded, and target is locked.” Said Teramak.

“FIRE!” Kirkinger growled, and Teramak gladly followed the order.

Eight launchers spat their load of torpedoes, over thirty yellow orbs streaking towards the hub.
The crippled Basestar still had some propulsion, and so it tried to place itself between the hub and the incoming missiles.
It partially succeeded, the first seven torpedoes impacting it, pulverizing it to the point where the following torpedoes had no trouble passing through.
The remaining Basestars and the hub fired missiles at them to destroy them, and their barrage did diminish the number of death orbs by half, but they realised after the explosions had receded they had lost.
In a desperate, last second effort, hoping to punish those who were responsible for the probable death of their race, they fired all remaining missiles at the Musashi.

The hub exploded in millions of pieces, torpedo after torpedo impacting it, destroying the life giving ability of the Cylons.

Captain Kirkinger smiled, his mission successful, just as the missiles struck home.

[sonofccn]

sweet. Very nice updates with James proving once again he's a one man wrecking crew. But I have to ask is anyone going to survive this? James was shot repeatedly, the hub ship just blew to bits and the Musashi just about to have her warrenty voided by a missile swarm. If you don't mind me saying so it seems everyone's fracked six ways to sunday. Or I guess in other words more chapters please.

[Praeothmin]

Hhhhm, well, I was going to have them all die and become zombies... IIINNNN SPAAAAAAAACCCEEEEEE...

But then I decided against it, so I guess you'll have to wait and see... :)

[Admiral Breetai]

these were some good updates and you've inspired me preao

[Praeothmin]

these were some good updates and you've inspired me preao

I hope it wasn't the "zombies... IIIINNNN SPPAAAAAAAACCCCCEEEEE" thing that inspired you... ;)

[Admiral Breetai]

[
I hope it wasn't the "zombies... IIIINNNN SPPAAAAAAAACCCCCEEEEE" thing that inspired you... ;)

you never know with the way I've been portraying the founders , you might see something like that.

[sonofccn]

these were some good updates and you've inspired me preao

I hope it wasn't the "zombies... IIIINNNN SPPAAAAAAAACCCCCEEEEE" thing that inspired you... ;)

Zombies...IIIINNNN SPPAAAAAAAACCCCCEEEEE is a super great idea. I mean zombies just make anything better, have writer's block? Just have a zombie break through the door and eat someone, it writes iself. :)

[Praeothmin]

After a very long interlude (lots of travelling for the job), here's an update:

Chapter 21

Everyone was dead, their adventures terminated...









Just kidding, here's the real update:


Chapter 21



The Cylon ships, having nothing else left to lose, closed in on the Federation vessel, intent on destroying it in vengeful wrath.
Their last volley had crippled the Musashi, tearing many gashes in its hull, oxygen escaping from it, the force fields that would normally have closed these breaches no longer operable.
They aimed all their missiles at the most powerful source of energy, not wanting to give the ship a chance to survive any longer and escape.
As the missiles left their launchers, one of the remaining Basestars died in a fiery explosion, ripped apart by the powerful forwards cannons of the suddenly appeared Pegasus.
Its flack barrage went at work destroying the missiles streaking towards the Musashi, destroying many, but at least half were still making their way to the Federation vessel, more than enough to destroy it.
And then those missiles started blowing up, shredded to pieces by the flak barrage emanating from the Galactica, the big old vessel making a run for it, placing itself between the remaining missiles and the Musashi.
It made it on time, barely, with at least a dozen missiles hitting it, most impacting on the reinforced upper decks.
The Cylons quickly understood how outgunned they were, and the two remaining Basestars jumped away.
After a quick seek and destroy mission performed by Colonial Vipers from the two Battlestars, destroying any remaining Raiders, the Pegasus jumped away again, back to the rest of the Colonial fleet.

*******

The bridge on the Musashi was in shambles, over half the consoles having exploded, bulkheads fallen to the floor, with only the emergency lights working, barely, tinting the bridge in a reddish, hellish light.
Crewman were slowly getting back up to their feet, those who were least injured helping their comrades, while others were fighting off fires.

“Report!” Ordered Captain Kirkinger, extricating himself from his automated security harness, glad for it presence.

“Impossible, Sir,” Replied Teramak, “That last volley took out main power and the computer cores. We have no communications with the rest of the ship and, I suspect, no easy way to access Engineering.”

“Damn!” Kirkinger said.
“Natalie, I want you to try and find some way of communicating with Engineering.
Rig some sort of cheap transmitter if you can.”

There was no response.
Kirkinger called her out again, and once more silence was his only answer.
He peered into the gloomy bridge, trying to find his XO, but Teramak found her first.

“Here, Captain!” He yelled, jumping down next to the Ops console.

There was a large piece of bulkhead there, but then Kirkinger thought he could see an arm under it.
Teramak was already struggling to lift the wreckage, Kirkinger and an Ensign coming to his aid.

“She saw it coming down,” The rattled Ensign said, pointing at the fallen bulkhead, “And she pushed me out of the way.”

When the piece of wreckage had been cleared, Krikinger kneeled next to his XO, checking her pulse.
It was very weak, but stable.
Teramak gave her a once over, his Field Medic training kicking in.
Using his Tricorder to scan her, even though though the information he gathered was limited compared to a Medical Tricorder, he was able to see that she was heavily injured, with multiple broken ribs, a broken femur, and possibly internal bleeding.
She also exhibited signs of a concussion.
Teramak and the Captain knew she could die if she didn’t receive full medical help very soon.
But they also knew that without main power, they could not get her that help.
And more importantly, although surprised that another attack had not come, they knew the Cylons could finish them with one more volley.


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


James slowly regained consciousness, his body a receptacle of pain, every laboured breath coming in through immense effort.
His head was filled with a loud thumping sound, and some loud buzzing, but James realized quickly the thumping he was hearing was actually his heartbeats.
It took him some time to recover his bearings, and when he did, he realized that the other noise, the loud buzzing, had been his team calling out to him, trying to get his attention.
Doc, Lt. Ron Epstein his real name, was working fast on his wounds using a Med-kit, and had applied Starfleet’s bio-foam to them, and then had used the kit’s instruments to quickly suture his wounds.
His under garments were torn all over, where his field medic had to operate and remove the slugs that had penetrated his armor.
“What’s the situation?” He asked Doc.

Doc jumped back, unaware James had come to.

“What the hell?” Doc yelped.
“You scared the shit out of me.
You should be unconscious due to the medication I gave you.”

“Yeah well, let’s just say my body has great resistance to blood toxins, including meds.” James replied with a small smile.
“But don’t worry, you can continue to work on me, I hurt so much all over I won’t notice anything you do.”
He added weakly.

Boomer looked down at him and smiled warmly.

“Thanks for getting me out of there.” She said.

“Piece of cake!” James said, weakly making a “thumbs up” gesture with his right hand.
“But no one answered my question: what’s the situation?”

It was Boomer who answered him:
“Well, the Resurrection Hub is gone, blow up to pieces, and the Musashi took out six of the eight Cylon Basestars protecting it, but this came at a great cost.
The Galactica and Pegasus came in just in time to save it, but she was heavily damaged still.
She is now listing in space, apparently without power.
We are heading over there right now to see if we can do anything.
The Galactica is still here as well, protecting it.
They contacted us and we told them of the successful mission.
Admiral Adama sends his congratulations.”

She looked at him, and with a sheepish smile added:
“I believe his exact words were: Tell him he did great, if he makes it.”

James smiled, still too weak to laugh even though it was what he wanted to do.
His team laughed then, knowing their leader was out of danger, happy their mission had been a success.

It was a few minutes before they arrived at the Musashi.
The Raptor had been communicating with the Galactica, and so James knew the Musashi still had no power, and that the Galactica had been unable to contact Captain Kirkinger.
The Raptor flew under the Akira-class vessel, and from his position on the floor of the Raptor, James saw the extent of the damage.
The Musashi was even more banged up than the Galactica had been when they had first encountered it, with huge gaping holes torn in its hull, the support struts broken and twisted.
It was bleeding oxygen where force fields had failed and the emergency bulkheads had yet to be closed.
James thought the Musashi looked as he felt, banged up and full of holes.

“Fly us over the top,” He said to the Raptor pilot, “I want to see if the Bridge is still intact.”

The pilot nodded, and then expertly guided the Raptor around the nose of the Musashi, passing in front of the Star Lounge, once so beautiful, now completely destroyed, the windows blown out, the plants dead, the interior walls blackened and burnt, the once vibrant lounge now a lifeless wound in the Musashi.

As the Raptor completed its circuit, it flew upside down over the dorsal part of the Starfleet vessel’s saucer.
The damage there was as extensive as on its ventral side, but, the James’s and everyone else’s relief, the Bridge hadn’t been breached.
Blackened marks near it indicated it may have been damaged, but at least it had not been penetrated.
The Raptor’s pilot brought it close to the Bridge, flipped the Raptor downside up, brought out the landing gear and activated the magnetic clamps.
The small vessel landed on the bigger ship’s hull with a loud “thunk”, its magnetic gear fastening it securely in place.

“We need to find a way to communicate with the ship.” James said.


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

As she stood up, Cmdr T’Len wiped some blood from her brow, the gash she had suffered on the top of her head bleeding profusely.
She tore off a part of her lower shirt, and applied some pressure to the wound.
As she did that, she surveyed the damage to Engineering.
Had she been human, or a hybrid like the illustrious Spock, she might have looked at what was left of her precious engineering with dismay, but being a fully logical Vulcan, while her eyes took in all the damage, her brain was already hard at work, prioritizing repairs and man-hours, calculating precisely how much time she had before things were critical, and how much time would be needed to effect critical repairs.
She was done in less than a minute, her brain –highly intelligent even from a Vulcan perspective- having determined that the flux capacitor, such a small and easily overlooked piece of equipment, yet so essential for Time-Warp engines, needed to be replaced before main power could be restored.
She had also taken note of her injured comrades, pleased –if such a state of mind could be said of Vulcans- that there were few injured crewmen, since Engineering’s location, deep into the bowels of the ship, had protected against the onslaught that had hit the ship’s outer layers.

She issued orders to the crew, one Ensign being assigned to restoring communications throughout the ship, and then went to work on the flux Capacitor replacement.
It was a delicate piece of machinery, one that had been created by human, of all beings, and even more surprising, it had been invented and created more than four hundred years in the past.
Its inventor, one Doctor Emmett Brown, had apparently disappeared from history after its invention, as if he had no longer existed after 1985.
After it had been replaced, Cmdr T’Len moved on to the Warp Core to help the teams already working on it.
If her calculations were correct –and they always were- they’d have main power back on line in less than thirty minutes, with back-up power in five.
Which she decided was a good thing, considering she had calculated loss of life-support in six minutes.


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

Teramak was working feverishly with Ensign Romo to get some kind of communications established with the rest of the ship.
They had connected seven communicators together and had jury-rigged some sort of emitter, but without the full communication suite of the ship, the range was very limited.
While they were working on the communicators, the Captain was keeping a close eye on his XO, ensuring her condition wasn’t worsening.
When he was satisfied they had done what they could with the communicators, Teramak activated them.

“This is Lt. Cmdr Teramak, of the starship Mushashi.
Is anyone receiving this?” Teramak asked, transmitting over all available frequencies.
“We are heavily damaged, with only minutes of life support left.
We have many injured crewmembers.
We need help.”

After a few seconds of tense silence, Teramak heard his communicators chirp, and a voice, weak, distant, was heard.

“Cmdr Teramak, this is James Reynolds of the Raptor Prometheus, and it seems I will once again have to save your ass.”

The crewmembers on the Bridge smiled when they heard the voice, for it was not a secret for anyone that when James Reynolds was there, things had a tendency to end well.

“James,” Teramak replied, “It is good to hear your voice.
Cmdr Tremblay is hurt really bad, and we lost internal communications, and have no way to reach Sickbay.
We need your help.”

“Ok, we’ve located the nearest airlock, we’ll be there in a couple of minutes.
Doc and I are on our way.” James said.

“We’ll be waiting,” Teramak replied, “Don’t take too long.”


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



“Are you out of your frakking mind?” Boomer said to James.
“You’re in no condition to move, let alone perform zero-g moves or mount rescue missions.”

“Sometimes, you can’t let your condition stop you, Boomer.” James said with a smile as he started to get up.
Boomer saddled him, and pushed on his shoulders to bring them back down to the floor.
James was hurting, Boomer knew, but his strength still exceeded hers, and so she was fighting a losing battle.
She let go, since she did not want James to reopen his wounds, but she stared at him hard, disapproval clear in her face.
Doc didn’t look too thrilled either, but didn’t say a word.
He looked at James, nodded, and put his pressurized helmet on.
James had to change his suit with a spare one on the ship, which fit quite tightly, and then, when everyone was ready, he opened the hatch of the Raptor.
He was trying to look confident even though it was the first time in his life that he would actually be out in space, vulnerable, with little control over what could happen.
He activated his magnetic boots and led the duo over the Musashi’s hull, heading for the airlock.
He walked fast, even with the boots slowing him down.
When they arrived at the airlock, James let Doc take care of opening it, and took a few seconds to marvel at the sights he was seeing, all his pain forgotten.
To his right, a nebula, to his left, a starry field, and all around, the vastness of space.
The spectacle humbled him, making him realize how insignificant he was next to the universe.
He felt something tugging at his pant leg, and looked down.
Doc had opened the airlock, and was climbing inside the Musashi.
Snapping out of his reverie, James followed.


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


Teramak and the Bridge crew were working feverishly to try and repair as much of the consoles they could, with the priority put on the tactical console.
While they didn’t have any power to check if the repairs were working, they had to trust their knowledge of the systems, and so once system was “repaired”, they moved onto another.
They had tried to force open the doors to the Turbolifts to access equipment, and hopefully some oxygen masks, but the doors had proven too tough for them, and with nothing to pry them open, their efforts had been vain.

Breathing was becoming labored, and so after a few minutes they had to stop and rest.
Then they heard a hissing sound, and the doors to Turbolift two started to open, forced apart by two glove-clad hands.
The opened doors brought with them fresh, oxygenated air, replenishing the dwindling supplies available for the Bridge crew.
The opening doors revealed James Reynolds, space suit bulging under the strain of his muscles, at some places shredding open, blood being released from the tears, while he pushed the Turbolift doors completely opened.
As if on cue, at the same time, Teramak’s jaw hit the floor, all the lights came on, the life support system started up again, and the repaired consoles lit up.
As relief washed over the Bridge crew, James collapsed on the Bridge, passing out due to his reopened wounds.

[Admiral Breetai]

Back to the future reference and boomer hitting on Khans heir? goodness

[sonofccn]

Yeah a new chapter! Pegasus and Galactica playing Big Frakking Heroes, for some reason I heard ride of the valkeries as they came streaming in gunning down the missiles, James still kicking and proves hes one tough Augment, and the Musashi lives! Well mostly, going to need a few weeks to the dock but I doubt you'll give them that. :)

[Praeothmin]

Gld you guys liked it...

for some reason I heard ride of the valkeries as they came streaming in gunning down the missiles

Hhhmm, I like that...
You've inspired me to try something...

[Praeothmin]

Short Chapter...

Chapter 22

He opened his eyes, regaining consciousness, somehow not feeling much pain, and was blinded –only for a millisecond, the time for his Flare Compensators to react- , but then his vision adjusted, and he saw that he was in a brightly lit room, full of different noises and smells.
The room smelled of disinfectant, sweat, blood, and even cigarette smoke.
James knew he wasn’t in the aseptic environment of the Sickbay aboard the Musashi, and after a second or two, he smiled, understanding dawning on him: he was in a Shadow clinic in Seattle.
He wasn't feeling too much pain most likely because he had been pumped with enough pain killers to knock out a rhino.
He had been badly hurt by his confrontation with what he know understood had been an Earth Elemental, and his team-mates had succeeded in getting him out, and to a Shadow Clinic.
He had imagined, or dreamt, the entire time travel adventure in a drug-induced stupor.
He was going to miss Valis, Boomer and Teramak, though, even if they had only been figments of his imagination.

[Praeothmin]

Some comedy, a lighter toned chapter, now with musicorama(tm)...

Chapter 23

“Doc, he’s awake!” He heard a voice call out in surprise.

“They told me he was a tough sun of a bitch.” A voice replied.

James knew that voice, he had heard it before.
He concluded he had been in the Clinic before, yet he couldn’t remember where he’d seen such a ceiling in a Shadow Clinic, full of criss-crossing metal struts, and armored bulkheads.

He turned his head to the right, towards the Doctor’s voice, just as the Doctor came up to the bed.

“How are you feeling?” Asked Doc Cotter, a cigarette hanging from the corner of his mouth.
“I’m surprised you’re already awake, though I guess I shouldn’t be, considering you’re still alive when you should have been dead twice over.” He finished with a smile.

“I’m feeling good, Doc.” James answered.
“How long have I been out?”

“A little more than a day.” Cotter said.
“Although with the wounds you had, anyone else would have woken up in the morgue.”
He smiled.
“You’ve been transferred here, with all the stable wounded patients, because your ship is still pretty banged up, and your Sickbay isn’t operating at full capacity.
We, on the other hand, having been fully restocked by your Captain a few weeks ago, are fully operational.
Your Doc Epstein has even been lent to us to help take care of the wounded.”

James was suddenly very alert, remembering what he’d been doing before he had collapsed on the Musashi’s bridge.

“How is Cmdr Trembley?” He asked with some apprehension.

“She’s fine!” Doc said.
“She’s in a stable condition, and under the expert care of your Doctor Numorr.
She’s make it.
It’s a good thing Doc Epstein was able to get to her when he did, or she would have died.
He was able to keep her stable enough until she could be transferred to Sickbay.”
He smiled as he said:
“Apparently, someone strong-armed the elevator doors open, after the Bridge crew had been unable to.
Someone with no regards for his own safety.
Ring a bell?”

“Nope!” James replied.
“Never met such an idiot.” He finished, grinning.

“I have!” A voice from the other side of the medical bay said.
“And it’s a good thing his body’s as hard as his head.”

James lifted his head a bit, and saw a smiling Doc coming towards him.

“There was a young lady who wanted to be here when you woke up, but the Captain and Admiral Adama felt that it may have been dangerous for her, so she’s awaiting news of your health aboard the Musashi, helping with the repairs.” Doc Epstein said.

“Yeah, well, I should be there too.” James replied.

He got up from his bed, and only realized he was naked when a nurse, who was attending a patient close by, looked at him, her eyes widening, and offered him a sheepish smile, blushing slightly and turning her head around back to her patient.

“She’s not used to seeing such a big man.” Cotter remarked, deadpan, the nurse blushing even more at his words.

“Well,” Epstein said with a grin, “Doctor Numorr did say he was fully augmented.”

“Hey!” James cried indignantly.
“Some parts of me are still natural, ok.
And I’m not big, I’m just well proportioned.”

“Very!” The nurse said in a hushed tone, so low that James knew the remark had slipped out inadvertently.
He looked straight at her, and by the quizzical look he gave her, she knew he had heard.
She became beet red, and left to attend to other patients on the far side of the medical bay.

“It seems I may have misplaced my clothing.” He said, using the bed’s sheet to cover himself.

“You won’t need it, as you’re not supposed to get out of bed after what you’ve been through.” Cotter said.
“You still need to rest and recuperate.”

“I’ll recuperate when I’m dead, Doc.” James quipped.
“Look, I feel fine, fine enough to help, and if I need anything, Valis… I mean, Doctor Numorr is more than able to take care of me.”

“I’m sure she is.” Doc Epstein said, returning to his work.

After giving Epstein a dose of stink-eye, under the amused gaze of Cotter, James requested his clothing again.

“Your clothing had more holes than actual cloth in them, so we got rid of them.
I’ll find you something to wear.” Cotter said.
“It may take a while, we don’t breed them so big here.” He finished as an afterthought.

He returned a while later with what looked like some combat fatigues and boots, which James put on quickly.

He made his way to the starboard flight deck, where he had been told a Starfleet shuttle was available for Starfleet personnel who needed to transit back to the Musashi.

As he was flying to the Musashi, he inspected the ship’s exterior.

*Cue the TPM music when Kirk flies to the Enterprise*

It was extremely damaged, but now, at least, he could see main power was on, as one of the Warp Nacelles was lighted.
He saw many, many drones and crewmen at work repairing hull breaches, replacing damaged circuits, trying their best to erase the battle scars the Musashi displayed.
In contrast, the Galactica, who had weathered only one small missile volley, had fared very well, with her Tritanium armor very much intact.
The only indications it had indeed been in a –short- battle were the burn marks on their armor, where the missiles had impacted with little effect.

He arrived in Shuttle Bay 2, now apparently transformed in an industrial repair shop.
There were people everywhere, hard at work replicating parts, assembling and dispatching replacement modules.

*Cue Flight of the Bumblebees*

As he exited the shuttle, a few people he recognized nodded to him or waved at him.
He returned their signs, and then made his way to Sickbay.
He wanted to check on Cmdr Tremblay before he offered his help with the repairs.
And more importantly, he wanted to see Valis.
He hadn’t talked to her much since Lt. Harriman’s death.
The death of someone he considered his first true friend in this reality had hit him hard, and he had done his best to ensure this would not happen again.
He had immersed himself in his training and the training of others, the results of which was the successful mission on the Resurrection Hub.
The men on his team for that mission were those who had been the best at his training, Teramak not included.
Indeed, Teramak had been the best of the group, unable to participate only because of his importance on the ship.

But now, after almost dying, he realized he didn’t want to pass up an opportunity for something great to develop between him and Valis.
He also realized he would probably alienate Teramak because of this –again- , but it was something he decided he could live with.

Walking around the ship on his way to Sickbay, he noticed all the corridors were filled with repair teams.
Adding the number of people he saw there to those seen in the Shuttle Bay and those outside the Musashi, he understood that most likely all of the available crewmembers on the ship were affecting repairs.
As he made his way to his destination, he slowly felt his pain returning, understanding that his painkillers were wearing off, and that his wounds were too serious for his Pain Compensators to suppress.
He was limping slightly when he arrived at Sickbay, but when the doors hissed open, and he caught a glimpse of Valis, he straightened himself, and strode in.
That was when he noticed all the injured people lying on the biobeds, each more wounded than the other.
Valis and her staff were running around every patient, administering painkillers, antisceptics and general meds, every staff member clearly exhausted, but each and every one working feverishly to ensure their comrades’ survival.
She saw him, then and there, and stopped dead in her tracks.
She flashed him a smile, so full of warmth and relief at seeing him there, he knew then and there he would have endured a thousand times more pain that what he was feeling at the moment to see that smile again, and then she returned to work.

He went to Cmdr Tremblay’s bed, and looking at her readouts, saw she was very stable.
In fact, her chart indicated she would be ready for duty in less than three days.

Satisifed, wondering where he would be most useful, he decided his medical knowledge and lack of familiarity with Starfleet technology meant he would be most helpful in Sickbay.
He picked up a hypospray, having learned how to perfectly use basic Starfleet medical equipment during his two weeks of training, and went to work helping the medical team, much to their gratitude.
The first person he administered painkillers to was himself, so he could then work without being bothered by his wounds.
He worked for countless hours, until he could no longer ignore his pain, until even his mind could not will his body to continue.
By then, he realized that the original medical team had gone to bed, replaced by fresh crewmembers, and by fresh, James realized it meant they had probably had all of a couple of hours of sleep since their last shift.

Valis wasn’t there anymore, but she had left him a note.
Glad to see you’re back on your feet, Mr. Reynolds.
I look forward to having the “conversation” we never had at our first meeting.
I will meet you at your quarters for breakfast in a few hours.
Sleep well.
Valis.

With a smile, and a nod to the medical team now at work, James went to his quarters to sleep, after receiving some treatment for his wounds using Starfleet medical equipment.

He slept well, his mind filled with dreams of Valis, and the medical procedures he wished she would try on him.
At one point, Boomer and Cmdr Tremblay came to help Valis, and James had never felt better in his life.
He woke up then, feeling refreshed, aroused and somewhat disappointed he would not see which of the three was better at using a “hypospray”.

His door chimed, indicating someone was waiting outside.
Remembering Valis’s note, he decided to surprise her.
He went to the door nude, wearing a large grin, and hit the “open” button, expectantly looking for the surprised expression on Valis’s face.

Except it was Boomer who was standing there.

[Admiral Breetai]

holy crap that's awkward

i was envisioning 'you've got the touch' when Galactica showed up as back up your fic having a sound track is pretty cool

[Praeothmin]

holy crap that's awkward

i was envisioning 'you've got the touch' when Galactica showed up as back up your fic having a sound track is pretty cool

It's sonofccn's fault, he's the one who cued Flight of the Valkyries in the rescue sequence... :)