This is a short chapter, just to keep things moving. Enjoy! —YaoiBoy


"Avatar" is the property of James Cameron and Twentieth Century Fox.

"Star Trek: The Next Generation" is the property of Paramount Pictures.
I take no credit or monetary compensation for the fictional worlds referenced in this work.


PRELUDE: Under Siege

Captain Picard looked up in awe at the beautiful Na'vi creature staring down at him. He then frowned, realizing he was restrained and being carried on a gurney. Remembering what had happened right before he had been forced out of his Avatar, he snapped back into focus.

"Jane…" he called softly. "Don't do this. Let's talk. I'm sure we can work together."

"The Sky People are ruthless, Captain," she answered sadly. "They threatened me with the destruction of our village if I did not hand you over to them."

"How did they know I was here?"

"They watch our every move, Jean-Luc. They rule us with an iron fist—take our children." She looked sad. "It is a shame I won't get more time to know you better. We could have been wonderful friends."

"Listen to me, Jane!" cried the captain. "We can help you. Just tell me what is happening." He managed to grab the Na'vi leader's arm. "Eywa is with us. She wants to help us."

The leader scowled, snatching her arm away. "Don't try and tell me the will of Eywa!" she yelled. "Of course she wants to help us. We have waited patiently for over one hundred of your years, praying for salvation. It hasn't come—it likely never will. You see… Direct intervention from the All Mother happens very rarely."

"This is one of those rare times, I can assure you." The captain smiled.


CHAPTER 6: Reckless Actions

"Shields are at maximum!" shouted the tactical officer. "All available power is at the ready!"

"Okay…" said the acting captain, Beverly Crusher. She looked back at Lt. Hanson. "Are we ready, Lieutenant?"

"Yes, sir," answered the Vulcan, eyes glued to his console. "I show shield generators outputting at 120% normal capacity. We have approximately ten minutes before we fuse the relays."

The doctor pressed a pad on the arm of the captain's chair. A chime sounded, indicating the ship-wide comm. channel was engaged. "All hands. Brace for impact." Closing the channel, she sat forward to the edge of her seat. "Engage, Mr. Crusher. Full impulse."

"Aye, sir. Full impulse."

The red glow of the impulse engines burned brighter as the ship smoothly responded to the helm, quickly approaching the minefield.

"We will reach the field's perimeter in twenty seconds!" called Hanson. "Transporter chief, are you ready?"

"Yes, sir! Already scanning for the away team."

One the viewscreen, the moon Pandora became larger in view as they approached—the obscured view of the surface below becoming slightly clearer as they approached. Exactly 15 seconds later, the first impact was felt. The inertial dampeners kept the ship from lurching, but it was enough that everyone felt it.

"Steady as she goes, Mr. Crusher."

"Mines are converging…" called tactical. "Five seconds to impact."

"Evasive Action!" called the captain.

Wesley concentrated and let his mind slowly ease away from his body. He began to feel new appendages as he melded his mind with all the systems aboard the Enterprise. He smiled to himself as his felt the cold, vastness of space upon his metal skin.

"Sir! Instrumentation is offline!" shouted Hanson. "Systems are failing throughout the ship!"

"Dear, Lord…" cried Dr. Crusher as she looked forward to the chair where her son used to be seated. She stared on in horror as he faded from view and vanished right before her eyes.

"Wes!"

She wanted to cry, but her training kicked in immediately. "Grisom, take the helm!" The tactical officer moved without hesitation and got seated just as the ship jolted from multiple impacts. The doctor snapped her attention to the science station. "Report!"

"We have suffered some minor structural damage. Shields are down to 35%. At this rate, they will be depleted in twenty-one point three seconds."

"Transporter room!" barked the doctor. "You have twenty seconds!"

"Sir!" called Grisom from the helm station. "I'm not sure how, but this console is still being operated! Course corrections are rampant. I've never seen anything like it!"

The doctor smiled. "Lieutenant… Return to tactical."

"Sir?"

"Do it!"

He returned to his station without further hesitation. "Shields are failing!"

"Transporter room!" yelled the doctor. "We have to pull out of here! Status!"

"Nothing yet, sir! Still scanning!"

"Sir!" called Hanson. "I'm not certain as to the cause, but shields are holding at fifteen percent."

"I can explain sir," tactical chimed in. "The ship is making an extremely high rate of course corrections. Maneuvering thrusters are firing an average of sixty-one times per second! Someone is flying her, sir. We are avoiding the mine convergences, even at full impulse. Not even the main computer could do this. This is very atypical!"

"My Wesley is anything but typical, Mr. Grisom." She seemed to relax and turned back to the science station. "How long do we have?"

"If Mr. Crusher can continue to avoid bombardment, we could stay here indefinitely. However, that would not be advised."

"Right, Mr. Hanson." She stood up and rushed over to the helm. "Wes… If you can hear me… can you give us another twenty seconds? Acknowledge if you can." The letters "O. K." flashed on the console. "That's my boy!" She ran back to the center seat. "Transporter room! You have twenty seconds more to beam them out of there!"

"Aye, sir!" answered the transporter chief. "I've locked on to commanders Worf and La Forge. Beaming now! Sir... My scans have been detected. They are now being jammed."

"Alright, I'm coming down there." She stood up. "Wesley! Get us out of here!" The ship immediately began to pull out of the mine field. Suddenly, the ship lurched wildly, throwing anyone standing to the floor. Dr. Crusher cursed as she pulled herself up using one of the arms of the captain's chair. "Report!"

"Direct impact of a cluster of mines. Shields are down," replied Grisom. "We have hull breaches on decks thirteen through seventeen! Emergency force fields are fluctuating, but emergency bulkheads are closing!"

"Increasing power to emergency force fields," reported Hanson. "We are almost out of the mine field. Just fifteen seconds more at the current rate of speed."

"Hang on, Wes!" The Doctor wondered if she would ever see her son again.

"We have cleared the minefield, Captain… and not a moment too soon." The Vulcan looked quite serious. "We have many casualties, sir."

"Damn…" sighed the doctor, hanging her head for a moment.

"Hold it together, Beverly!" Before she could recompose herself, the comm. sounded.

"Transporter room to bridge! You might want to get down here."

"Report, mister!"

"It would be easier if you just came down here."

"On my way."

"Mr. Grisom, you're with me. Hanson, you have the bridge. Let me know immediately if my son re-appears."

"Yes, sir!"


The doctor stared in awe at the four life-forms on the transporter stage. In their manic rescue attempt, they had managed to secure two of the missing away team members, but had also nabbed a few uninvited guests. The officers stepped down as the doctor approached.

"Geordi! Mr. Worf! Are you okay?" cried the doctor as she did a quick scan with a medical tri-corder. Neither had serious injuries.

"We're both okay, Doctor," answered the engineer. "Your timing is impeccable."

"So… who are your friends?" She looked up at the other two life forms that somehow managed to make the trip. Security officers had phasers on them.

"I'm sorry sir," answered the transporter chief, running over to face the doctor. "Apparently these two latched on at the moment of transport. Given the timing, I didn't dare risk sending them back. As you can see, I took some precautions." He motioned to the security personnel.

"You did the right thing, Lieutenant…" She blushed at not knowing the young man's name.

"Nog, ma'am," answered the young Ferengi. "I had security standing by, just in case."

"Well done, Mr. Nog," smiled the doctor. "Carry on."

"Yes, ma'am!" he smiled and returned to his console.

The doctor stared for a moment at the two unexpected visitors. They looked very uncomfortable, having to sit on their knees as they were both too tall to stand. She had seen images of the Na'vi before, but pictures did no justice to standing next to one. Exotic giants, almost indecent in their choice of clothing… The doctor almost blushed examining the blue warriors.

"Lieutenant. Transport them, along with the security detail, directly to cargo bay one. I want them in a place where they won't have to crawl on their knees."

"Yes, sir!" answered Nog as he prepared his console. "Ready, sir."

"Energize." Before they could say a word, they dematerialized. Beverly looked up at Mr. Worf with great relief. "Glad to see you back, Commander. The ship is yours. I need to get to sick bay. We've had quite a catastrophe here."

"Doctor," acknowledged Mr. Worf as she left the room. "Mr. La Forge, please join me in Cargo Bay one. We're going to get some answers as to what is going on down there."

"You said it!" answered the engineer.


End of Chapter 6