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

[Khas]

Out of curiosity Praeo, are you gonna use any from "From One World To Another" or "Fluid Power Evangelion"?

[Praeothmin]

Well, IF YOU WRITE MORE THAN FIVE CHAPTERS AND STOP KEEPING US WAITING IMPATIENTLY FOR UPDATES I might... :)

Seriously though, it was just a small interlude that Breetai and sonofccn hinted at, and it kept running in my head...

We'll see, I guess...

Oh, by the way, did you like it?

[Khas]

Yes, I liked it.

And FPE Chapter Six is coming tonight.

[Khas]

Or not. I ran a mile and a half for Gym class today, and I'm too tired to write it.

[Admiral Breetai]

you torture us khas

[Praeothmin]

Short update...

Chapter 46

The ship was flying silently through a vortex of scintillating lights, its engines emitting a deep blue color, an indication of the immense power running through them.
It had detected the small starship that had left the planet’s surface, and had seen it launch a smaller one that its powerful sensors had told contained no lifeforms.
A scan of the leaving ship indicated five occupants, all human, although one life sign had elicited warnings across the board, for it had been flagged in the mighty vessel’s database as belonging to one James Reynolds, commanding officer of the ship’s contingent of MACOs.
Before they could react, though, the small ship had disappeared at FTL, leaving a measurable Ion trail, one that indicated it was flying at speeds close to Warp 8.
The ship’s Captain had confirmed his ship’s sensor readings and suspicions after they had recovered their remaining team members, who had a mystery guest with them.
After placing their guest in the brig -as a temporary measure the Captain had assured him- the ship had left the planet’s orbit in pursuit of the smaller craft.
Knowing where the craft was going, instead of just following the trail, had allowed the Musashi’s crew to plot an intercept course.
The Captain only wished he would catch up to the ship before they did anything stupid.

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

James tested his manacles slowly, trying to be as silent as possible.
He noticed his left manacle was a standard metal ring, and that it acted like any manacles James was used to, clamping down on the prisoner’s wrist tight enough that the hand could not be removed simply by pulling on it.
Except, of course, if like James, one had an augmented body, or more specifically, if one had had his articulations enhanced, making them more flexible, such as being able to almost dislocate one’s thumb by pulling on it, allowing one to stabilize the manacles on a control panel, and pull one’s hand out of the restraints.
Once the restraint was loose, the enhanced articulation would also allow the person to simply pull his thumb back in place with no ill effects.
James waited a few moments after freeing his left hand, and then went to work on his right one.
He tore up one of his zipper tabs, and used it to pick the lock on his right manacle.
He wasn’t much of a lock pick, but his natural dexterity had him free in less than five minutes.
Disconnecting himself from the cryo unit, he went to work on his foot manacles after making sure everyone was still asleep.
With the help of two hands this time, he was free in less than a minute.
He quietly made his way up front to the piloting console, hoping that, since the men had spoken in English, the written language was also English, and the controls easily usable.
It was, and they seemed simple enough.
Either through overconfidence or incompetence, the controls weren’t locked, so James had no trouble accessing the communications unit, and sending a text message to the Musashi.
He told them that he’d freed himself, and they told him where he was going, and that they held his attacker in the Brig.
James didn’t like this, for he knew the man, Riddick, was very dangerous.
He warned them about him, and then let the Captain know he was curious to learn who it was that wanted this man, and why.
He told the Captain he wanted to continue to pretend to be this Riddick until he found the info out, and Kirkinger agreed after a short pondering time.
James used his time onboard the ship to familiarize himself with the controls, as the trip, according to the ship, would take four days.
He knew Cryo-sleep was used on small ships to preserve supplies and minimize waste, which wasn’t a problem on bigger ships.
Calculating the estimated time of arrival and comparing it to the distance between the two systems, he calculated the speed of the ship and translated it in what he remembered of the Warp Charts he’d been shown.
That’s how he knew the ship was travelling at approximately Warp 8, and that the Musashi could have intercepted it less than two hours after it had evaded them at Warp 9.
The Captain, though, had told him that he would change the Akira-class ship’s speed so it would shadow from a distance, able to intercept within minutes if the smaller ship didn’t accelerate.

James spent the following four days learning all he could of this new reality they were in, but more importantly, all he could about this Riddick character.
He didn’t much care for what he learned: Riddick was a mass murderer, a killer of men.
He had a kill sheet as long as James’s arm, spread over three or four worlds.
His psych exam said he was a psychopath, and from what James had seen, it fit Riddick’s personality to a “t”.
The man was and ex-ranger, ex-mercenary who had become violent during a tour of duty.
James knew violent lifestyles sometimes had that effect on people.
But what concerned him what that Riddick was also described as a master of escape, and that no prison could hold him when he decided he wanted to leave.
The file confirmed all he thought: Riddick was a very dangerous man, one not to be taken lightly.

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

As far as prisons went, this Brig was definitely a step up from the ones he was used to.
Brightly lit cells, comfortable beds, clean toilets, if a bit strange, and three fully satisfying meals per day.
The cell was also very wide, allowing him to stretch and exercise as much as he wanted to.
The “doors” were something else, though.
This Federation had apparently mastered energy fields, and were using them as cell doors.
These fields created a mild discomfort when touched, and were very resilient.
Riddick had tested his only once, when he was first “invited” in the Brig, and the force field had resisted his most powerful blow.
The walls were equally solid, and he had not even been able to dent them.
They were seamless as well, meaning they had no weak spots he could exploit and weaken over time.
The cell itself, Riddick had concluded, was escape proof.
The Brig’s weakness, he had ascertained, was in its guards.
Relaxed, comfortable, wearing pyjamas, they weren’t like any guards he had ever met.
They had training, he noticed, and when they came to serve him his food, they were always prudent.
They never approached the cell unless he was sitting on his bed, and they always worked in pairs, one placing the food tray on the floor just inside the force field’s boundaries, while the other, standing behind the first, to the side, would cover him with his strange weapon, which he would keep aiming at Riddick until the force field was up again.
This didn’t mean Riddick couldn’t escape.
Riddick could always escape, sometimes it simply took longer.
If things didn’t move fast enough, he thought, they’d soon learn no cage could hold such an animal as he.

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

After four days of tranquil flight, the Mercenary ship arrived at Helion Prime.
James, when he had noticed the Mercs stirring up in the ship, had gone back to his seat and had re-shackled himself.
He’d then pretended to awaken at the same time they had, and had made sure to look at the Mercs with a threatening glare, one the Mercs, seeing their prisoner well bound, believing him to be neutralized, returned in full.
They received a landing authorization from the port authorities, using their Mercenary license numbers and the ID beacon from the ship.
James already knew about the Beacon, so he memorized Toombs’s Mercenary ID number for future references.
They landed at Helion Prime’s main astro-port, located in the planet’s Capital, New Mecca.
As the Mercenaries disembarked, bringing their prisoner with them, Toombs contacted his sponsor through a communicator.

“This is Toombs, we’ve got the package, and we’re ready to drop it.
Where do we meet?” He said, James detecting some elation in his voice.
The man was close to payday, he thought.
James knew someone was going to be very disappointed soon.
He heard a distinguished voice answer the Merc.

“Please bring him to the transmitted coordinates in thirty minutes.
We’ll meet you there.” The voice said in an English accent.

James had the speaker pegged as an elderly lady, based on the inflections and intonations of the voice.
He followed the group as they made their way to the rendez-vous point with their mysterious sponsor.
They walked around alleys, into streets, people looking at them, getting out of the way of the bound giant man.
They arrived at a house in a nice neighbourhood, and the Mercs stopped in front.
The house was small, less than four meters across, and was two stories tall.
It had nice arches around the windows and the door, all made of wood, and its angles were smooth and flowing, as if the house was constantly moving.
The Mercs seemed hesitant to knock on the door, as if they couldn’t believe someone from this neighbourhood could afford, or even offer, such a bounty.
The door opened as they hesitated, and a man wearing a toga, its hood high over its head, beckoned them in.
They entered cautiously, their hands on their weapons, their prisoner in tow.

“We bring the prize,” Toombs called out in the house, “Now where’s our money?”

“That is not Riddick!” A baritone, cultured voice answered.

James's manacles, the ones he had picked on the way to the house, fell to the floor with a loud noise.

“I guess that’s my cue to leave!” He said.

[sonofccn]

Toombs about to have a bad day. Still better than the day he'd had if he'd caught Riddick through.

[Praeothmin]

Chapter 47

The Mercenaries were quick to react, their hands going for their weapons, Toombs almost starting to draw his pistol as James closed in on him.
But compared to the big humans with the enhanced speed, they moved as snails.
James’s left hand closed over Toombs’s right wrist like a vice, his right hand grabbing the man’s shirt collar, and he twisted to his left, hoisting the man in the process, the move resulting in a throw.
Toombs flew through the air to impact powerfully with two of his companions while the third one sidestepped to his right and drew his weapon.
He was bringing his gun to bear on James when he noticed the big human was no longer at his original position.
James was now standing to the left of the man, and when the Merc turned around to point the gun at him, the big human repeated the same move he had used on Toombs, only this time instead of simply twisting the man horizontally, he lifted him up over his head, and brought him down hard on his piled friends, resulting in many painful groans coming from the human pile.
After taking away the Mercs’ weapons at full speed, James turned around and got up to his full height to look at the people who had sponsored the bounty.
The one who’d told the Mercs he wasn’t the right person was a tall black man in his fifties, with broader than average shoulders, a powerful jaw, and exuded an air of calmness, mixed with apprehension.
He was clearly a religious man, for he wore a knee length, striped red tunic, a floor length brown vest, made of fine linen or rough cotton, with sari trims at the front edges, sand-colored pants and a burgundy scarf decorated with a metal belt.
He was also wearing a leather cap matching his clothing, with small glasses adorning his nose.
James thought he looked like an Islamic priest.
His two companions’ appearances clashed with his.
One was an elderly woman, small yet not frail, exuding authority and power, holding herself regally.
James matched the voice heard over the communicator to her.
Her eyes possessed an intensity James had rarely seen in one person, and displayed great intelligence.
The other person was the man who had opened the door to the group, an unassuming man in his mid-thirties, with average build, and a nondescript face.
James pegged him as a pencil pusher, a councillor of some kind.
The man seemed the most impressed by James’s size and aggressiveness, the other two barely reacting.

“Who are you?” The black man asked with his baritone voice.

“That’s funny,” James calmly said, “I was going to ask you the same thing.”

“My name is Imam, I live here.
We were expecting these men,” He said, indicating the groaning Mercenaries, “to bring us someone I know.”

“Yes, I heard that part.
I know you were expecting Riddick, for whom these Mercs mistook me, which leads me to think these men have never seen him.
How did you expect them to grab the right person?” He asked.

“I had no pictures, so I gave them a description of a man, a big man, a dangerous looking man, who moved like a cat and fought like a Tiger.
In my life, I have met only one such man: Richard B. Riddick.
While I considered the possibility that there could be another like him, I knew he had gone on a planet devoid of line in order to evade his pursuers.
There should not have been a possibility of a mistake.
I apologise for this, though I wonder how it is that you were on that lifeless planet as well.” Imam said.

James noticed that the elderly lady was listening to the exchange with great interest, as if what she was hearing had great importance to her.

“So then I guess she was the Mercs’s sponsor, which would explain her interest in our conversation.”

He turned to the woman, and took a step forward, but no one moved in close to protect her from him, showing him she was a formidable person, or so they thought.

“Who are you, and what did you want Riddick?” He asked her.

“I am Aereon,” She answered, “an envoy from the Elemental race.
I mean him no harm, nor to you.
There are very few of us who have met a Necromonger and lived to speak of it.
So when I choose to speak of it, you should choose to listen.” She finished expectantly.

“Necromonger?” James repeated questioningly.

“It is the name that will convert or kill every last human life, unless the universe can rebalance itself.” She said, as if it explained everything.

“Maybe you should pretend like you're talking to someone who’s not from around here.” He told her.
“In fact, don't pretend.” He added with a semi-smile.

“Balance is everything to elementals.” She continued, “Water to fire, Earth to air.
We have different words for it.
But now we have only time to speak of the balance of opposites.
There is a story, my giant friend, of young male Furyans, Riddick’s race, strangled at birth with their own cords by a lone warrior.
The story tells of one of them surviving this ordeal.”

“When Aereon told this story to the Helion leaders, I told her of Riddick.” Imam explained.

Aereon continued.
“It concerns a foretelling, a prediction now more than 30 years old.
A young warrior once consulted a seer.
He was told a child would be born on the planet Furya, a male child, who would someday cause the warrior's downfall.
Cause his untimed death.”

“Furya is now a ruined world.” Imam added.
“No life to speak of.”


“For good reason.” Aereon said coldly.
“This young warrior mounted an attack on Furya, killing all young males he could find, even strangling some with their birth cords.”

“So this warrior, the one who tried to outwit the prediction,” James said, making the connections, “Would later become...”

“The Lord Marshall, leader of the Necromongers.” Aereon finished for him.
“If we are to survive, a new balance must be found.
In normal times, evil would be fought by good.
But in times like these, we Elementals thought it should be fought by another kind of evil.
Upon hearing about Riddick, we felt necessary to… “invite” him to come and see us.
Knowing his disposition for solitude, we felt it important to ensure he would indeed come to see us.
We actually did not believe this crew could actually capture him, but we knew he’d want to come and see who wanted him, and why he was betrayed.
Which brings me back to a question asked by Imam for which you still haven’t provided an answer:
Who are you, and how is it you’ve found yourself in a position to be mistaken for this Sector’s greatest killer?”

James saw no malice in either Imam’s or Aereon’s eyes, and so he decided he’d tell them the truth.

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

The Musashi was in high orbit around the world, Helion Prime, and had reconfigured its shields so that their signature matched the background radiation of the nearby star.
As long as no one actually flew by them and visually spotted them, any sensor, they hoped, would be fooled by the trick and the ship would remain undetected.
The Bridge was bustling with activity, the crew making the final repairs to the ship, its systems running near peak efficiency for the first time in days.
The ship that had fled with their MACO commander aboard had been found in the main astroport of the planet, yet no lifesigns were found onboard.
The planet was, perhaps unsurprisingly in the Musashi’s circumstances, filled only with human lifesigns.
Though Major Reynolds’s lifesigns were peculiar and easily identifiable when detected, picking them up in what appeared to be a population of over twenty five million humans would be difficult, and it would take time.

“Captain!” The Conn officer called out.
“Sensors detect a comet coming our way.
It is more than thirty kilometres across, and at least a hundred kilometres long.
It’s trajectory has it going straight for Helion Prime.”
Captain Kirkinger was concerned.

“If it hits, there will be widespread devastation.” He said.
“We need to destroy or deflect these asteroids.”

“Captain, sensors are picking up strange energy fields within the comet.”
The Conn officer’s fingers flew over the sensor controls, narrowing the scanning bands, cleaning up background noise, doing everything he could to clean up the scanning results.
“Sir, according to our sensor sweeps, the energy readings are graviton based, and are emanating from multiple bodies inside the comet’s tail.
It appears the comet is in fact composed of numerous vessels, heading straight for the planet.”

“An invasion force?” Kirkinger mused aloud.
“I dare not intervene without knowing what’s going on here.
If we insert our nose in their business, and claim one side, who’s to say we aren’t choosing the wrong side of the conflict?”

The Captain was truly torn on what to do, unwilling to let innocent people die, as they always did in war, and yet, if the Musashi picked a side, would the balance tip in favour of the warmongers instead of the pacifists?
How would he feel if some new faction came to the aid of the Dominion in the war opposing them to the Federation?

“We will not get involved unless we have no other choice.” He said, and the crew nodded understanding.
“Let’s monitor things and see what happens.” He added.

This was one of the most difficult decisions he’d ever taken in his life, letting innocents die when he knew he could most likely do something.
He could see his crew shared the feeling as well, and was comforted by that.

“We will assist any who need us, though, so let’s get ready.
Yellow Alert!” He finished, and his crew went to work.

“Captain!” Teramak called out.

“Yes?”

“We have a problem: our “guest” has escaped.”

[sonofccn]

Why do I get the feeling the Musashi is about to have her warrenty voided again? ;)

But good we have the Necromongers inbound, James is being brought to speed on the situation, and hopefully getting the Musashi into the action, and a likely less than happy Riddick running loose through the ship. Also Toombs had a bad day. I like it when Toombs has a bad day. :)

[Praeothmin]

I like it when Toombs has a bad day. :)

Then you'll like it very much in the upcoming future... :)

[Praeothmin]

New Update...

Chapter 48

Aereon’s eyes betrayed not even a hint of her emotions, her face a unreadable mask of stoicism.
She reminded James of Cmdr T’Len, the Vulcan Chief Engineer of the Musashi.
Aereon seemed as detached and aloof as the Vulcan.

“It is an interesting story!” She said.
“And I detect no hint of deception in your tone, nor in your body language.
Which means either you are telling the truth, or you are the best liar I’ve ever met.
Since you have nothing to fear from us, I believe you are indeed telling the truth.
Which creates an interesting conundrum.
How will you ship’s presence affect the matters in our reality.
How will your presence here, in the place of Riddick, affect the events planetside.
The foretelling never spoke of any of this.”

Imam looked unsure, worried.

“Does this mean we are doomed?” He asked Aereon.
“If Riddick is not here, if the Lord Marshall is unopposed, how will we fare?”

Aereon looked at the man, still emotionless, and after a quick look at James, she said:

“Somehow, I doubt our new friend is the kind to sit aside while innocent lives are unjustly taken.”

As James was about to reply, they felt the earth tremble, as if it had decided to awaken, and then they heard the noise, an immense crashing sound, akin to a mountain falling.
The Mercs, trying to get up, were thrown back down to the floor, as well as Imam.
Only James, with his enhanced reflexes and agility, and Aereon, who seemed to float above the trembling ground, remained standing.
Not long after, powerful winds came howling through the streets, buffeting houses, tearing off shutters, and blowing Imam’s house door open.
Billowing clouds of dust invaded the house blinding everyone and choking them, filling their lungs.
It lasted for less than a minute, but then all lights went out, all power suddenly snuffed out from the neighbourhood.
They went to the door and looked out, not understanding, for James at least, what was seen.
An immense structure, standing what seemed like several hundred meters in height, had suddenly appeared in New Mecca’s city center.
The new building was relatively thin, no more than fifty meters across when compared to the surrounding buildings, and it looked like it was made from one solid block of material.
James used his Thermographic and Low-Light sights to look at it, and he saw some tiny pieces detach themselves from the structure.
It didn’t take him long to understand he was seeing small attack crafts that lost no time in starting their runs against the defender’s aerial forces.
They could see anti-aerial flak rounds exploding all around the invading fighter crafts, the multiple dogfights raging over all parts of the city.

“It has begun!” Aereon said simply.
Cue “Wilderness” from The Dead Can Dance

Imam turned around instantly, crying out for his family:
“Ziza, Lajjun, we need to leave, now!” He turned to James and Aereon.
“I need to take them to a shelter.”

They came down the stairs in a hurry, the young girl looking at James with awe in her eyes.

“Is he the one who killed the monsters, daddy?”

“No, honey, he is not the one.” Imam said, a note of despair in his voice, James understanding the man had placed hope in Riddick being there, maybe even saving them.
This did not fit in what James knew of the killer.
“Such are our bedtime stories,” Imam explained, “About when I encountered Riddick for the first time.”

They left in a hurry through the streets, following a throng of fleeing people heading for what they hoped was salvation.
Aereon turned to James.

“What do you plan on doing?” She asked.

“Making sure they find shelter.” Was all he answered, before turning to leave.

He knew it was the only logical choice for him to make and remain true to himself.
Toombs was in his way, a small gun in his hand, most likely one he had well-hidden and that James hadn’t found during his high-speed disarming of the Mercs.

“You ain’t goin’ nowhere, big man.” He said.
“You just cost me and my crew one point five mil’, and you’ll find a way to repay m…”

He was interrupted by James as he grabbed the man’s gun out of his hands before Toombs even had a chance to react.
As the Mercenary began to realize he was no longer armed, a big boot impacted his stomach, lifting him up in the air and throwing him back.
He landed hard on all four in the middle of the street, his knees impacting the cobblestones with such force he felt them become numb.
James passed him by as Toombs started puking his lunch out from the kick.
He jogged a bit and quickly caught up with Imam and his family.
They were surprised to see him.

“Let me make sure you get them to safety.” He told the man.

A smile of gratitude was the reply, and then they followed him.
Imam told James where to go, and James made sure they got there.
There were more and more people in the streets, and then the bombardments started.
Explosions were heard and felt everywhere, the ground trembled, and more than once, Imam had to help his daughter up after a tremor made her fall.
There were more people in the streets now, all running for shelters, and so progress was slowed down.
James often had to open paths through the swarm of refugees for Imam and his family to follow through.
There were so many people that even the big man’s enhanced strength was taxed some times, barely allowing him to advance through he throngs of fleeing people.
And then, as if by magic, the crowd began thinning, less and less people going their way.
James shot a questioning look at Imam, wondering if perhaps, in the excitement and the crowds, he’d taken them the wrong way.

“I do not know what is happening,” Imam said, “We are going the right way.”

James didn’t like that, fearing danger, yet hearing nothing but the sound of explosions in the air and on the ground.

“Stay here,” He told them, “I’ll take a look, and I’ll be back.”

They were in a damaged part of the city, one where bombs had detonated, and so it was easy for him to find them a good hiding place.
Satisfied they were safe, at least for now, he took to the high grounds, climbing the ruined buildings to get to the roof of one with a high vantage point.
He looked around carefully, and what he saw didn’t reassure him.
Enemy troops, Necromongers, were marching down many streets, dropped there by troop transports gliding into place and dropping them using a similar method as the Covenant carriers had, using some kind of anti-gravity field to lower them gently to the ground.
They were everywhere.
In some places, too close for comfort, New Mecca troops had engaged them, but James could clearly see it was a losing fight for the Primers.
They were used to smaller engagements, he noticed from their tactics, and not a full out invasion.
Every time they achieved the upper hand, they held it only temporarily, the enemy rapidly taking back any lost terrain, and sometimes more.
James saw their attack methods, and their weapons.
The most devastating weapon the Necromongers possessed was some sort of explosive delivered by means of a stick, planted in the ground by a Kamikaze warrior.
Once planted, the top opened up, a blue ball of scintillating light coalescing on top, before releasing its energy in a single burst of what appeared to be plasma, which then flattened everything but the most resilient structures, and killed everyone within a ten meter range.
Once the blast had passed, pairs of Necromongers, the lead one being held in what appeared to be a leash, went over the fallen soldiers.
James understood these Necromongers were “sweepers”, looking for an eliminating surviving enemies, and that the lead Necromonger was acting like a living Tricorder, as the following soldier held a screen at the other end of the leash, and when that soldier found a surviving enemy, another one, the “cleaner”, came in and fired at the weakened prey.
Their lack of mercy enraged him, and he decided then and there if they met, he’d show these Necromongers the same lack of respect for life as they did others.

He was still observing the movements of the Necromonger troops when he heard a scream coming from Imam’s family’s location.
He made his way back quickly over the broken rooftops, and when he was over Imam’s family’s hideout, he peered over the roof’s side.
He saw Imam rounding a corner at the end of a rubble strew alley, while crying “Here I am, follow me!”, leading a squad of Necromongers away from his wife and child.
James looked down to see four Necronomongers still in the area, two of them sweepers, apparently looking for survivors to eliminate.
The living scanner zeroed in on Ziza and Lajjun’s hideout, the two “cleaners” moving towards the woman and child.
James had no choice but to protect them:
He leapt down from his perch.

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

Cue “Breath is just A Clock” from Equilibrium soundtrack

He was advancing on all four through tight service tunnels when he heard the alarm klaxon blare to life.
Looks like they miss me already, he thought, a smile appearing on his face.
After he had knocked out the two guards, using his boots as decoys when they came to feed him, allowing him to attack, he had kept one conscious long enough to extract information from the man.
These Federation officers had been quite nice with him, which is why he didn’t kill the guards.
Having forced the conscious soldier to explain how their weapons worked, he had learned they had been set to their lowest stun setting in order to incapacitate him without injury.
He’d then forced the man to explain the way to the nearest shuttle bay, and how to bypass security.
He learned it was difficult, but not impossible, so for Riddick, a man used to getting out of impossible places, difficult was quite achievable.
He had just finished disabling the internal sensors for this deck when the alarm had gone off, so while he was a bit disappointed his escape had been detected so soon, he knew finding him would be difficult, at least for a while.
The guard had been nice enough to tell him also that while the patrols did have highly compact and efficient handheld scanners called Tricorders, the dense materials in the bulkheads, added to the plasma flowing through conduits and multiple other fields would prevent them from finding him as long as he stayed in the service tunnels, or Jefferies Tubes, as the man had called them.
It was the reason why every ship had internal sensors built in, which were ship grade detectors allowing them to bypass any interference and dense materials, in order to detect internal threats.
Riddick had always found that the threat of torture on one’s comrade always yielded a greater amount of information, and often more reliable info, than torturing the person you interrogated.
He had found out a long time ago that tortured people tended to say anything in order to stop the pain, their desperation making them very convincing.
But when their friends and colleagues, people they cared about, were threatened, then the truth came out much more readily.
And so he made his way towards Shuttlebay two, keeping to the very bowels of the ship to make pursuit more difficult.
He eventually arrived at a hatch he knew exited on Shuttlebay two’s deckplate, near the parked shuttles he could use to escape.
He didn’t try to listen to any betraying sounds, indication of an ambush, since the hatch was thick and the material dense enough to muffle any but the loudest of noises.
He silently unlocked it, and swung it inwardly, then waited for a few seconds before going out, hoping that if someone was waiting in ambush he would now be able to hear them.
He was about to go out, but then decided against it.
He backed off silently, and went back to the last junction he’d encountered.
Using his senses, he oriented himself and chose an alternate route to the Shuttlebay.
He climbed one deck, and then went back towards his destination.
After a few dozen meters, he found a hatch in the floor of his service tunnel.
He opened it slowly and silently, peering through the opening.
He was, as he had expected, over the previous entry position, what he saw making him smile.
Two Starfleet officers were waiting for him, one on each side of the access hatch, weapons at the ready, aiming at what would have been his head had he chosen to get out at that point.
He looked around carefully, analyzing the movements of the crews working on the deck, trying to discern from the way they moved, locations they avoided, or looks they shot around if there were other ambush points or security personnel around.
He saw none, but he still didn’t make a move, waiting for the inevitable reinforcements to arrive, thinking of a new attack plan, when the service tunnel around him dissolved in a humming, shimmering golden energy field.

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

Cue “Fallen” from Evanescence

He landed on the two Necronmongers holding guns, his great mass bringing the two down to the ground while his powerful legs, combined with the two soldiers absorbing most of his fall, allowed him to land on his feet.
He sprung up from his landing and jumped kicked the Necromonger holding the leash, propelling him with great force at a brick wall.
Landing on the ball of his feet after the kick, he spun on his right foot and threw a straight left kick to one Necromonger’s face, with enough force to snap the man’s neck.
The other one, still facing the ground, turned on his left side and brought his right hand up to shoot at James, but the big MACO leader was too fast.
He brought his left leg back down next to the Necromonger’s wrist, and after putting all his weight on it, he twisted to his right, bringing his right heel hard against his enemy’s elbow.
The arm bent painfully to wrong side, the soldier losing his weapon and letting out a groan of pain.
James followed on his twist, connecting with a spinning left kick in the scanner’s face, breaking its visor and snapping its head back against the unyielding wall.
He set his left foot down next to the injured soldier’s head and bent down to grab the top of the man’s head with his left hand.
Pulling with all his might, he dropped a heavy right punch straight at the man’s neck, breaking it with an audible crack.
He looked around, satisfied that the soldiers were all dead, and went to Ziza and Lajjun’s hiding place.

“You are safe!” He told the scared duo.
“From the roof top, I saw the way to the station was clear.
Get there with all speeds, now.
Don’t wait, don’t look back, just flee.
I’ll find Imam and bring him back.”

He watched them go, picked up the two dead cleaners’ guns, and ran in the direction of Imam’s flight.
He ran for a few minutes, knowing that his speed was much, much greater than that of fully armored soldiers.
He came to a clearing at the back of the squad, but noticed their leader wasn’t with them.
He noticed they were all looking up and slightly to the right, but at what, James couldn’t say.
Using cover, he advanced to his left in order to get a better view of the scene.
Looking up, he saw the squad leader, a big, brutish soldier almost as tall and wide as James advancing on Imam, what looked like a Battleaxe in his hands.
Imam was facing the brute, a metal bar in hands, and advanced, saying:

“There will be an afterlife for me. Will there be one for you?”

James knew the man was willing to die, thinking his actions had saved his family.
He could not let that happen, he would not let that happen.
He leaped out of cover, yelling, turning everyone’s attention towards him, and aimed a weapon at the squad leader.
He fired, the gun propelling what looked like a distorted ball of heated air towards his target, but the ball was slow, and so the big soldier was able to evade the projectile by plunging to his right, away from Imam, who wasted no time in scrambling away from his big opponent.
Necromongers turned around, bringing their weapons to bear on James, but the bigger man was also the faster man, and so James opened up on these enemies, firing once, twice, even thrice before they could return fire, each pulse finding a target to devastating effects.
By then, he had plunged behind a ruined wall which bore the brunt of the attack.
After a tuck and roll that brought him up beyond the wall’s protection, he fired again in rapid succession, killing another four Necromongers.
In the space of less than two seconds, the enemy ranks had thinned considerably, less than half a dozen men remained, but there were enough of them to kill James if he did not keep moving.
He went behind another ruined structure, but instead of going on and firing upon exiting on the other side, he reversed direction and came back out the same way he came in, with only one soldier anticipating the maneuver.
The Necromonger fired, his shot passing too close for James’s comfort, so the man was his first target when he fired his first shot, hitting him in the chest, his body lifted in the air by the shot to land on top of another dead companion.
This time, though, all the other soldiers were facing far off to the left of James, having followed his logical movement, so he picked them off one after the other while they were struggling to bring their weapons back on him.
As his last enemy fell, James looked up and searched for the squad leader, alive somewhere in the upper structures of the damaged buildings, hiding from him, no doubt trying to find a way to kill this new enemy that had appeared.
He cautiously advanced, looking everywhere and using his Thermographic vision to find a humanoid infra-red signature.
He spotted one, but it was not big enough to be his target.
James concluded it had to be Imam.
He kept himself from calling out, not wanting to betray his position to his enemy.
As he was turning, he heard a small rumbling coming from above him.
He looked up and saw a section of a wall detach itself and fall towards his position.
He jumped away, rolling, and ended his roll on one knee, guns raised, but it was already too late.
The big, armored squad leader had used the wall as a distraction, and had jumped at the same time it had fallen, landing at James’s right, and had started an axe swing as he was recovering from his landing.
James used his guns to block the sideway blow, but the squad leader used the move to hook one of the axe’s edges on the weapons and pulled at the end of his move.
James, surprised by the move, already committed to the block, saw the weapons fly out of his grasp far to his left.
The armored man then kicked him in the chest, pushing him back, forcing him in a roll backwards, which allowed him to stand in a combat stance at the end of his roll.
The kick was mighty, but for James Reynolds, a man who had been kicked by Trolls and Elites, creatures who could dent armored alloys, it barely stung.
The squad leader smiled, and in one smooth move, while going into a sideway swipe again, from right to left, he split his weapon in two in order to come at James from two angles at once.
Except James never gave him the chance.
As the squad leader’s swing started, James stepped within its reach, blocking it with his left forearm in an outward block, his right hand balling up to deliver a devastating punch to the man’s kidney, a punch so powerful the man’s armor bent under the impact, the squad leader’s body being lifted up by it.
James grabbed the man’s wrist with his left hand, and rammed a forearm block on the man’s elbow, shattering it.
A right side kick to the man’s left knee dropped him to the ground, where James grabbed his head and twisted, breaking his neck.
As the squad leader’s body fell forward, James grabbed and pulled on a knife hilt he saw embedded in the man’s back plate.
The knife was a piece of art, as far as weapons went, its intricate hilt leading to a serrated blade etched with stylish symbols, and while the blade had to be sharp to penetrate the big Necromonger’s armor as it had, James felt it was not well balanced, unfit for throwing.
Hhmm, he mused, half a gram too heavy on the backside.

“Imam!” He called out, and was happy to see the man respond to his call.

The man came out of his hiding place, and was about to say something when he noticed the carnage.

“You did all this?” He asked, incredulous.

James nodded.

“Your family is safe,” He told the man, “I’ve sent them to the train station, where you should go.
The way back is clear of enemies, but move fast if you want to catch them.”

The man nodded.

“Thank you, for what you did.
I am not sure Riddick could have done all this.
What of you, what will you do now?” Imam asked.

“I need to contact my ship.
They should be here now, unless they’ve been attacked.
Either way, I need to let them know I’m fine, and learn about their situation.”

“I hope you find them well.
Thank you again, now my daughter will have new bedtime stories.”

He turned to leave, but faced James again, as if remembering something.

“If you do meet Riddick, please tell him about young Jack, about how she missed his brother-like influence, how she became a mercenary looking for him.
Please tell him she is in a prison, one where the sun can burn your skin.”

James nodded, and Imam left.
He puzzled over what Imam had just said.
How could a cold-blooded killer be viewed as a big brother by someone?
How could a man like Imam, a religious man, a level-headed man, hope that such a killer come to his family’s rescue, how could he even tell stories of such a killer to his daughter?
There were so many things that didn’t add up in the stories he’d read about Riddick and the impression these people left him.
The only certainty was that Riddick was very dangerous and that James did not want a rematch with him.
But the rest was shrouded in mystery.

“Couple of things you could’a done better.” He heard a voice behind him say.

[sonofccn]

Ah Toombs...at least he never gives up. He's like an evil charlie brown or something.

A good fight with that Necro squad leader guy, through he was outclassed severely, through I'm still hoping to see Riddick and James fighting side by side killing those clowns. And of course hope we get to see Musashi strutting her stuff soon, crosses fingers, but I'm just greedy like that.

[Praeothmin]

It's coming, it's coming, can't always be fighting and kicking ass you know...
Sometimes, we need slow, calm, exposition... :)

[Praeothmin]

The Musashi strutting her stuff (but after another bit of dialogue)...

Chapter 49

James turned around with blinding speed, launching the knife at the Merc’s face.
As expected, the heavier backside of the knife unbalanced it, and instead of hitting Toombs blade first, it was the hilt that made contact, snapping the man’s head back, knocking him out before he could even fire a shot.
Just as James had expected.
He went to the man, and made sure he took away all his weapons, and then bound his hands tightly behind his back, and threw him over his shoulder to carry him in a fireman carry.
Using the man’s beacon locator, he locked on the Merc ship’s transponder signal and went to the spaceport to retrieve it, carefully evading Necromonger patrols on the way.

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

Cue “Save My Family” from The Chronicles of Riddick soundtrack

As the golden energy field receded, he noticed he was back in his cell in the ship’s Brig.
Only this time, there were four guards, one of them blue skinned with white hair and two antennas coming out of his head.

“I do not recommend you try that another time, Mr. Riddick.” The blue-skinned man said.
“As our Captain once told Mr. Reynolds, do not try our patience, or you might find yourself thrown out the nearest airlock.”

While Riddick was certain the Federation, so nice to its prisoners, would never act in such a callous way, he saw the blue-skinned man’s eyes, and knew if it were up to him, Riddick would already be in an airlock.
He definitely liked the man.
In a way, the blue-skinned man was every bit the cold hearted killer Riddick was, the difference being the Federation had apparently helped him control his nature.
He smiled, which unnerved the guards in post, but only mildly annoyed the blue-skinned man.
The doors to the Brig opened up with a silent hiss, and another man entered.
Riddick understood by the way the others stiffened in the new man’s presence that this was their commander, the ship’s Captain.
The Captain wasn’t smiling, but he wasn’t displaying any anger either, which surprised Riddick.

“Didn’t like our hospitality?” He asked Riddick.

“Let’s just say that I prefer to have more open space.” He said.

“I would imagine a man like you would be used to confined spaces.” Was the Captain’s reply.
“You may not like it here, but you did attack and injure my crewmembers, twice, my MACO commander, who is now God knows where because of you, and you threatened my team of MACOs of death unless they allowed you to get on our shuttle.
What did you expect me to do?
Offer you the Ambassadorial Suite?”

Riddick only smiled.

“You will stay here for as long as needed, whether you like it or not.
When we get our MACO commander back, then we’ll drop you planetside, although you may not want to be there right now, and we’ll be on our merry way.
Until then, you can impress the hell out of me by doing exactly as you’re told.”

He was looking at Riddick, daring him to reply, the killer saw.
He didn’t reply, only widened his smile.
Satisfied, the Captain turned around and was about to leave, accompanied by the blue-skinned man, when the room’s communication console chirped.

Cue “Fortunate Son” from Credence Clearwater Revival (CCR)

“Bridge to Captain Kirkinger.” A voice called out.

“Kirkinger here, go on Bridge.”

“We have a request for communication coming in, audio only Sir. It’s from Major Reynolds.”

The Captain smiled at the news, and the blue-skinned man’s face brightened a bit a well.
The Major wasn’t just appreciated by his team, Riddick saw, as the crewmembers’ body language and reactions matched those of the MACOs he had hitched a ride with.
Interesting, he thought.

“Put him through.” The Captain ordered.

“Captain?” James Reynold’s voice asked.

“Major,” The Captain began, “It’s good to hear your voice.
Where are you located?
We’re scanning the planet for your lifesigns, but there are a lot of people, and now with the fighting that is happening, things are getting harder.”

“I’m currently in the planet’s Capital, New Mecca, in a borrowed ship in the astroport.” James answered.
“The Mercenaries that captured me were nice enough to lend me their ship after I gently explained I wasn’t who they were after.”

Riddick saw the Captain chuckle, and knew the man had perfectly understood just how “gentle” his Major could be.
Indeed, Riddick was certain his “explanations” had most likely been as gentle as his own when “asking” the guards to let him leave.
Having fought the Major, his first true loss in a long time, Riddick wished he could have been there to see.
He’d have to meet this Major again, either to test himself once more against him, or simply to fight at his side.
But one thing was certain, Riddick and the Major would meet again, and no guards would stop him when the time came.

James continued his story, disclosing to the Captain how things were on the ground, who the Necromongers were, and why the Mercs had wanted Riddick.
The killer was conflicted.
On one hand, he felt betrayed by Imam for letting Mercs know where he was, but at the same time, he knew the man, had come to trust him, and knew that Imam must have really felt his life and that of his family threatened for him to betray Riddick.
He was glad to hear of their safety, re-evaluating his understanding of the MACO commander.
The man fought with as much animal fury as Riddick did, yet his actions were always guided, it seems, by the good of others.
That intrigued him, and cemented his desire to meet the man once more, but this time, discussion entered the plans Riddick had for the Major and him.
Especially since the Major had made no mention of another, a young woman who should have been there with Imam.

“Major, if I understand correctly,” He heard the Captain say, “These Necromongers, once they’ve destroyed a planet’s defences, destroy its surface with those tall structures?”

“Yes sir, it’s what I’ve deduced from the explanations Aereon told me.
The tall structures bothered me when I was making my way back to the ship, and then it hit me.
I had seen an identical structure, only hand held, delivering some kind of energy burst that destroyed everything in its path, and vaporized living beings.
Quick estimations of the towers’ power derived from what I saw the smaller units do indicate each tower can destroy things in a five hundred kilometre radius.”

Silence was the response in the Brig, Riddick noticing the people around him blanched a bit at that estimate.

“They are more powerful than a Quantum Torpedo at maximum yield.” The Captain silently said.

He seemed to be pondering something, Riddick saw, something difficult.

“And you are sure that their goal is to kill everyone?” He asked Reynolds.

“Yes Sir, I believe what Aereon told me, and the way I saw them act, their callousness in dealing death, makes me believe this will be their course of action, the only one.”

“Very well, then.” The Captain said after a few heartbeats, a decision apparently made.
“Transmit your coordinates, get yourself beamed aboard, and ready your team.
If things don’t go our way, we may need you.”

“Yes Sir. I’ll be right up.” Reynolds said.

The Captain turned back towards Riddick, pure determination on his face.

“We’re about to get ourselves in trouble, and we may not get out of it alive.
We can have you down planetside, in the Mercenary ship, which you can use to escape the planet, in less than a minute.
That’s the best we can do under current circumstances.” He finished.

The offer was tempting, but Riddick knew there were some answers he needed, and that his curiosity about the Major would not be satisfied if he left.

“Captain, I have to say I’m kinda getting used to this cell.” He said with a smile.
“I don’t mind staying for the ride, I ain’t afraid of a few bumps.”

The Captain’s smile was anything but reassuring.

“Oh, there may be more than just a few bumps.
Bridege,” He said, tapping his communicator pin, “Red Alert!”

And then he left the Brig with the blue-skinned man in tow.

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

Cue “Wilderness” from The Dead Can Dance album Aion

The ship, seeming immobile in perfect synchronous orbit around the planet, suddenly accelerated like a bat out of hell, a translucent blue field briefly appearing around it.
Its outer shell still showed some traces of previous battles, although great effort had been put into repairing it, the damage now looking like a veteran warrior’s battle scars.
If its propulsion system had been damaged, though, it didn’t show at all as the majestic ship accelerated to attacks speeds, easily getting up to what would have been Mach 20 in an atmosphere, and it was still accelerating.
Less than a minute after it had started its acceleration, pulsating blue and orange orbs were launched from fifteen different ports all around its hull, each port belching out more than one of these orbs, streaking around the globe at various locations.
The pulsating orbs struck home after brief flights of a few minutes at most, detonating in bright flashes of light and power, destroying the towering Necromonger weapons, vaporizing them in fashion similar to what they had in store for the planet.
The Necromonger response didn’t take long to make itself felt.
All the ships in orbit streaked towards the unknown vessel, firing everything they had at it, but the sleek ship flew in an evasive pattern, and the Necromongers were hard pressed to hit it.
Those weapons that did find their target, however, were stopped by a powerful shimmering field of pure energy, a field that continually absorbed the punishing retaliation of the angry fleet.
And then, that most intriguing vessel struck back.
Golden lances of furious energy struck the incoming enemy ships in rapid succession, each hit vaporizing their target, each impact thinning the defending fleet evermore.
The unknown vessel even fired more pulsating orbs towards the surface of the planet, its attacks vaporizing many more vessels on the ground, and some that were trying to get off the ground to join the furious space battle, hoping to help their overwhelmed brothers with this incredible new threat.

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

The Lord Marshal had a hard time believing what he had heard from the captured Elemental.
A living Furyan, capable of fulfilling the prophecy, alive and well, and possibly in the presence of powerful allies.
Plus the news he had heard from some patrols, telling him of the death of a full squad of his best soldiers, and of Irgun’s death, the squad leader, one of his most powerful warriors, his neck broken like a twig.
The recording of the dead Lensors had shown him only one man was responsible for the carnage, a big man, moving far faster than anyone but the Lord Marshal had any right to move.
The Furyan, he thought.
This was the man the Lord Marshal had to kill.
And then all hell had broken loose on his fleet.
The Ultimate Purifiers, monuments to the power of the Necromongers, had been destroyed, all by one ship, communications from his orbiting fleet section had said.
They had engaged the enemy in retaliation under his direct orders, but the fleet reports told him he was losing many ships, fast.
In only a few minutes, the enemy ship had destroyed dozens of troop transports, over twenty cruisers and two dozen gunboats, able to strike at his grounded ships even while battling the orbiting fleet section.
At least, his fleet was reporting minor success against the enemy ship, its previously shown protective field no longer fully active, but at what cost?
Plus he was now receiving reports from his ground troops that with the destruction of many of his ships in orbit and on the ground, the remains of the Helion Pime defensive forces were marshalling again, and were leading counter offensives against them.
The Lord Marshal was furious.
He had hoped the converts form Helion Prime would replenish his forces, but he knew now the planet was lost to him, and that he had to leave or face true death in failure of the Necromonger ways.

“Recall all troops,” He said in anger, “We are leaving the planet.
Prepare for combat, for we will be attacking this upstart ship that thinks it can best an entire fleet of Necromongers.”

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

Cue “Tetsujin” From The Matrix Reloaded soundtrack

The ship lurched again, and Riddick had his hands full just staying on his feet.
His guards hadn’t been so lucky.
He was surprised at the beating this Federation ship could take, and still be operational.
As the latest attack impacted, there was a brief power failure and Riddick’s cell lost its forcefield.
Time to go, he thought, and so he jumped out of his cell as the power came back and its field came up again.
The guard nearest him tried to take out his weapon, but Riddick pinned the man’s arm against his stomach with his left hand and simply snapped the man’s head back with a powerful punch.
He took the guard’s weapon, a Phaser as it was called, and fired at the second guard in the Brig.
The third one had time to take his weapon out and fire.
He would have hit Riddick if the ship hadn’t been hit once more, causing the floor to move and the guard’s aim to falter.
The beam went past Riddick’s head to impact the wall behind him.
Riddick didn’t give a second chance to the man; he fired his weapon and hit the guard directly on the chest.
As the guard’s body hit the floor, Riddick was already exiting the Brig.

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

“Shields down to 12%!” Teramak called out.
“Another hit and they’re gone.
We’re being hit with gravimetric weapons.” He said.

“Sir,” The Conn officer called, “sensors report fighting has renewed on the planet’s surface.
It seems our little intervention has pushed the local forces into action.” The young Ensign said with a tight smile.

“It’s a good thing, because it seems we’ve worn our welcome out over here.” The Captain said.

“Find us a good place to hide where they can’t locate us too easily.” He ordered the Conn officer.

The Bridge shook more intensely, then.

“Forwards Shields down, Captain!” Teramak called.
“Ventral shields at 34%, dorsal at 41%.”

“Helm, show them our backside, then, we’re leaving anyway.” Kirkinger replied, grim-faced.

“Sir,” The Conn officer said, “I’ve found a planet not too far off, very close to its sun.
We could hide in the sunny side and let the solar radiation hide us from sensors.”

The ship shook again, and this time a console exploded.

“Get us out of here before we no longer have a ship to fly.
Set a course for that planet, maximum Warp.
Engage!”

And then the Musashi was gone in a flash of light.

[sonofccn]

Thanks that was...wonderful. Through I hope they used precisely modulated charges on those torpedoes. Full power...could do a helluva lot of damage.Also Toombs! He fails so much...I love it! :)