Fort Nox
Chapter one.
I do not own anything related to Star Trek: Voyager.
It was a normal day on Voyager. The crew ran about their buisness, Neelix made a few people choke, and crewman Jake Bishop, went to his morning shift as emotionless as ever, as disciplined as ever. The 23-year-old, six feet one inches tall long-ish black haired man walked slowly through the hallways finishing an engennering report before chef engeneer Torres tried to rip his head off. Mornings were always the same. On time or, well, in sickbay.

On the way the ever-late Tom Parris ran into him, trying to get to his post in time, in vain. Bishop got up and sidestepped against one of the bulkheads, clearing the way. He got into his fine millitairy-like salute, stomach in, chest out, and spoke out with a strong baritone voice. " Excuse me, Parris, sir. " Tom, who was still on the ground just stared up and looked at Bishop, who was still holding his perfect posture. While getting up he shook his head and said " Geez relax were not army brigades here, crewman..." to witch he got a responce that wouldnt be soon forgotten. " Sir Tom Parris yes sir! " Tom stared again. " Umm... Relax? " Nope, that handn't worked eather. " At ease? " Bishop seemed to relax, but only a bit. "Unhh what about " Retun to your post "? " Bishop walked off like nothing happened. " Weirdo..." Said Tom going to the bridge, pretty much forgetting the incident as he got his holodeck priviledges revoked for being late sixty three times in a row.

In engennering it was as blue as ever. The warp drive was especially moody that day. So was the chef engeneer. " Creeeewmannn! Were's my report on the warp feild isometrics that I needed today? " " Sir! " Torres took the report but could help thinking " Whats up with this guy... I'm pissed but he didn't budge..weirdo..." Torres eyed the report, and though " This is nice work... On time too, but he's... strange " She then called to the crewman " Hey umm... (What's his name?) Crewman... Good work. " Even though his responce was the same strong but monotone voice as ever, she pushed it out of her mind. She had more important stuff to think about then an eccentric crewman. Stuff just like this. Trans-warp. Such a thing would get voyager home in no time. One problem. Voyager was a galaxy away from going through the barrier of trans-warp. The only known creature to have that technology was... The Borg.

How in the deuce were they going to get trans-warp coils, the vital element for trans-warp travel, from the Borg? It was still a matter to be disscussed. Mabe if they disabled a cube thay could take the coils... Infiltrate a cube without being assimilated? She would have to look things over with a few people. Mainly the Captain and Seven of Nine herself.

Bishop was off-duty now. He had already finished his work until tomorrow. Usually, he was not a procrastinator. The morning had been an exeption. He walked to his quarters and picked up a bag and some special clothes. The bag was peculiar. It was four and a half feet in length and only a half feet in diameter. He walked to the holodeck with the two objects in hand and entered. He dressed in his new clothes. A hakama and a keikogi. The hakama is a pair of baggy pants and the keikogi is a type of shirt worn by many martial arts practitionners in the ancient times. He the opened the long bag that reveiled a katana. The japanese-styles sword was his practice one, it was heavyer and more blunt than his real fighting katana. But it was still a hard peice of metal, as sharp as a used kitchent knife. That level of sharpness was nothing compared to his real katana. His real katana was made of a nearly indestructable super alloy, ligh and it would keep its edge for pretty much ever, a one atom edge. With a bit of force, it would cut through titanium very easely.

He put the sheathed sword on his belt and said to the computer " Bear program 01 ". His custom program. He had to fight a polar bear, witch was as real as a real polar bear, with only his sword and sheath. He had even slighly modified the safeties. If he recieved a blow from from that angry one ton mammoth, it would do everything but kill him.

" Program strart'' The bear and the backround, a dull ground and some immence boulders materialized in front of him. Just as real as himself. Photons or flesh, in this case it was the same. The bear was programmed to be pissed off and it was doing a bang up job. It growled and howled then dashed forward at unimaginable speed. Bishop waited. It came forward and time seemed to slow down as it approched and lounged. It was only five feet away when his hand moved to his sword, and he got into his best and deadlyest Iaido fighting stance. He unsheathed, and his own eyes could not even see his arm and blade move. Time nearly stood still as the blade cut 180 degrees of death. Then everything started to move again. His feet blew a small crater in the grounds were he sidestepped to avoid the rampaging beast. He had given his all in that strike. He was now trying to decelerate; sidestep had been very powerful. He finally came to a skidding halt, and so did the bear, but with less grace. To be honest it looked like a 21th century car on ice. It shook it off. Bishop knew he had hit the bear, and he was breathing hard. Yet his sword was not bloody. Why was it not dead? Had he missed? Was he losing his edge? Bear rose on its hind legs, its fury undeminished. But it then halted. Blood trickled down its face. Then its face flopped down to the ground. Bishop knew then he was getting better. He had killed it without getting a drop of blood on himself of on his sword! He had hit the bear at about 110 degrees in mid swing, and even with his lower-quality practice katana, the blood had been wisked off in only 80 degrees... He was getting better. Yet he showed no emotion; he rarely, if never, did. Some of the other crewman had nicknamed him "vulcan boy".

He spoke to the computer. " Again. " A new bear materialized in front of him. " Pause. Computer, make the bear twice as fast, twice as strong and twice more resilliant to physical attacks. " He was in the mood for a challenge. The bear dissapeared, then reapeared a split second later. " Begin. " The white polar bear came at him as fast as a crashing shuttle. He jumped in the air an saw it roar under him, its six inch claws slashing madly at where he was just before. He landed behind it, and it turned to him emmidiantly. It was like the bear was fast-forwarded, and he was still in slow-motion. It threw a fist full of claws, nearly giving Bishop a nasty concussion if he hadn't ducked. A real bear, weather it was that fast or not, would have taken his head off, but the modified safeties on the holodeck assured only non-critical injuries. He slashed overhead, splitting the righ paw of the beast lenghtwise, right to the elbow. He slipped his blade out, and slashed sideways to the stomach, trying to gut the bear. It was like cutting trough frozen kevlar-laced ballistics gel. He forced the blade through toughened organs, flesh, bones, everything was incredibly hard. His blade bent. He saw a blur coming down on him. The beast's left paw was throwing a monumental strike at his head. At that time his blade exited near the other side, and as it came out, free of resistance, it accelerated and he changed its cource towards the oncoming paw. The bear managed to hit him but he cut it's arm off. The bear's shot dug deep into Bishop's shoulder. The impact threw him against a rock witch was a few meters behind him. He coughed up blood from the shock and his left shoulder was bleeding profusely. He was not uncontious and he was still holding his sword. Breathing heavily, he adopted a stabbing technique pose. A few seconds later he had lauched himself with renewed fervor. The bear dodged out of the way. He skidded to a halt and then froze as the bear appeared behind him. Bishop dodged to the side, inches from whistling claws zipping down on him. Even though the creature had only one paw and it was damaged, it was as dangerous as ever. Bishop leaped onto a boulder, which was soon excavated by a furyous claw. His jump wad sent him litterally spiralling into the air. He spun and sliced at the bear's right shoulder. The sword whistled through the air and hit deep; he saw chunks of hardened meat fly. Nevewrtheless, the bear tried to get him still. Not giving up, as he was falling he grabbed the thich back fur and clung on. Boy was he in for a ride. The infuriated bear thrashed around, but he stabbed, each time striking a different vital point. He jumped and spun again, slashing for a final time. The beast's head fell. So did he. He hit the ground, and from ten feet up, it hurt. He was covered in sweat, blood, and peices of hard meat... and he was now in a lot of pain.

" Ho-holo-lo Deck Offff... " The peices of meat dissapeared with the two beasts and the destroyed backround. He slowly got up. It was very late and nearly no one was in the hallways. He dressed in his Starfleet uniform, still bleeding and bruised, and covered up his wounds by putting his hakama and keikogi on his shoulder. He would have to be careful to wash everything carefully but for now he could get to his quarters without anyone knowing he had been injured by a modified holo-program. He staggered and limped to his quarters.

He had a painful nigh ahead.

Bishop had barely slept. He had spent the night secretly treating his wounds and tossing in his bed. He got dressed and patched for the day, and off he went to engeneering. The hallways were pretty emty. He liked it that way. No awkward looks from other crewmen. He finally got to engeneering. When he crossed it was alive with work. Talk of the Borg and trans-warp caugh his ears. He found Torres and reported for duty. She was working with many others on the main engennering panel and they semmed to be very enthousiastic. " Crewman we need some help over on section nine with this plasma rigging, it needs to be overhau... What the hell hapened to you? " She stared at his beat up form, bruised and scrached. " Nothing Chef engeneer Torres. " she gave him a " yeah like a " nothing " could beat the crap out of a crewman " and then she said " better be the last nothing... Now go to section nine for those plasma riggings..." Eyeing him suspiciusly.

Bishop worked and though. " The Borg... Trans-warp... is this whats this is about? I heard the Borg had that technology, but are we supposed to do? Go in and take it? Impossible, we would be assimilated... They would adapt... I will ask someone about it... "

The next day he had a good nigh's sleep and he went to 'the local Borg expert'. Seven of Nine. He went to Cargo Bay 2. " Seven of Nine. " Bishop said. " State your name and purpose." " Jake Bishop. I come to ask about the Borg."

Later on, Bishop came out with a box full of data on the Borg. Ship and phisical specifications, patters behaviors. He was exhausted, his wound ached and his loss of blood made him very hungry. He came back to his quarters, he ate and organized all his data. Bishop crawled onto the bed, trying to relax his shoulder; the pain was keeping him awake. He decided to jump in the sonic shower for a spell, so he crawled back down and turned the shower on. The pulses and the dull noize was soothing and he soon found himself dozing off on his feet, so his put on some shorts and fell asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow.

The next day he was free. He slept in late and ate a lot. Ration pack 16 sounded like heaven for Jake. One look at the weird looking banana-beef (who in the world makes these anyways?) and anybody else would have opted for Neelix's 'home' cooked um... somethings... but Bishop favored solitude above all else. He patched his shoulder up, and went to Cargo Bay 2 for additional questions that needed to be answered, like the one about a secret " Fort Nox " mission he had heard about in engennering. What he found there was, to say the least, special. The always empty Cargo Bay 2 way now, like engennering, full of people. He looked at the working crowd and winced." 'hate crowds..." But he still entered, the pneumatic doors shutting behind him. The answers he got stunned him. Voyager was going to send an away mission and steal trans-warp coils from a Borg vessel? But curiously it was well planned out, with personal cloaking devices and decoys... It just migh work.

Then it struck him.

Since the Borg adapted to phasers, why not use a sword in a worse-case scenario? In all his research the Borg had never been able to adapt to physical attacks... Why not? He would have to try it out on the holodeck... with realistic Borgs...

A few days later he was back on shift and his shoulder was fine. He decided the today was the day to try out his new program. He walked to the holodeck after his shift, as usual, and entered " Borg training program 01 " to witch the femail computer voice replied " Program complete. Enter when ready"

As he came in, he foud out it was awfully realistic. Righ up to the humidity level the Borgs have on their ships, since well, this was a simulated Borg tacticle cube. Even the safeties were again modified, but since the holodeck could not assimilate a crewman, it would just deliver a debilitating jolt. He was now in his hakama and Keikogi, with his sword by his side. It was exatly as if he had been beamed aboard a cube. Now he had to make his way to the coils, then to the sheild generator. The drones ignored him but he knew that when he took the coils they would come at him like Kazons to water. He made his way without much trouble. When he arrived, he saw the big injectors and knew he had to open the coil locks and run to the sheild generators. He pushed a few commands in a Borg port and grabbed the coils, stashing them in his keikogi. The drones turned to him now, Bishop saw their bio-lasers turn on and they were soon all pointed at him. A good dozen of them. He ran past a few but now there were three stout drones blocking his way. Unsheathing, he cut them down. All three of them. They never kney what hit them. As they fell a few other drones looked at Jake and he knew it would be harder from now on. One popped up in front of him, trying to get his implanted arm to Bishop's neck, were he would be jolted, or in the realy world, stuffed full of Borg nano-technology, then assimilated. He deflected the arm, almost cutting it off in the process. The his sword came down like a slick ray of death and the Borg fell, his head cut in half. His sword had only stopped at the collarbone. As the drone fell he pulled out his katana and pressed on. The borg had halted ther attack. They seemed to be more cautious now. Semmingly as they had seen four of their own fall without anything to adapt to, they were now confused. But soon they would regroup and attack again, and no doubt they would be better, or as they would say, more efficient, at hand-to-hand combat.

And they did get better. They next one in front put on a lower stance and raised his Borg-implated hands, the trouble was, Jake was warmed up now, and the borg's stance didn't help him much when he had a sword stuck through his head, righ up to the guard. Soon Bishop wad freed his blade by twisting it and splitting the drone's head in twide. He made his way further and then he was met by an army of drones. " At least the generator isn't very far..."

He stabbed the first one through the chest and slashed diagonally from the chest, trough the arm and out, killing another in the process. He uppercutted one, pushing the back of his blade with his left hand to increase his power. The slaughering contined for four, mabe five minutes. It soon came to a halt when the room's floor had dissapeared beneath mutilated, halved corpses of drones. There were only a few left. ten at the most...

The Borgs launched themselves to him. He dodged one. He grabbed his scabbard from his waist and hit another in the head with the steel, killing it. As its cybernetic emplants went flying, mixed with drone goo and peices of bone, Bishop reverced his grip and threw his scabbard witch stabbed itself in the chest of another drone, sticking out halfway out the back. He slashed and hacked at the nearest drone, but it used its rotating saw in its implanted arm to delfect the strikes. He locked " blades " with the Borg and as sparks were flying, he kicked out and knoked it off its feet. Bishop ran over and retreaved his scabbard from the previously killed drone. Eigh left. He wisked off goo and put his sword back in his sheath in one smooth motion and dropped into Iaido stance. As he unsheathed, as he releaced his anger towards those in front of him. As time semmed to slow and his sword went faster than what anyone could fathom, only five were left in one peice. The mutilated halves flew to the other side of the room, the displacement of air had blown the bodies like mere leaves in the wind. As he launched himself and the world went red as he hacked through another one, and an other, and an other and an other...

He had lost all sence of time and place. He was standing on a mound of dead drones, his sword, his entire frame, was covered in goo and peices of implants. He was dripping, soaked in the Borg's vital fluids. He was disgusted and he tried wyping most of it off his face, but the sticky fluid refused to go. He had just slashed the main power grid for the feild generators and a simulated Chakotay was preparing to beam him back to Voyager. The program ended, he had succeded. But he was not happy. He had just mercylessly slaughered more than a good hundred and fifty alien beings, even if they were simulated. The object of the simulation was to know what he had to go through to get to his objective; now he knew and he wasn't all that content with the results.

As the Borg environment dissolved and the program ended, Bishop fell to the ground, exhausted. The goo, chips of implants had dissapeared but he saw that his uniform was torn and ragged. He forced himself up. He staggered and made his way to his Starfleet uniform and tried to put it on, but he saw his shoulder wound had re-opened. He quickly put on his uniform and covered his bleeding wound with his ragged hakama and keikogi.