Author's Note:
A great many thanks goes out to those who have taken the time to check this story out and also to those who have made their interest known. Thank you! Also, I am traveling next week, so the next update to the story will be posted upon my return.
Chapter 2
Systems Alliance UT-47E Kodiak Drop-Shuttle, prototype
Shepard rolled onto her hands and knees, her eyes burning from the smoke rapidly filling the shuttle. Reaching out with her left hand, she deftly entered commands into the console to vent the smoke from the main cabin while her right hand wiped away the blood streaming into her eye, blurring her vision. There had been no time to think, to wonder how everything how gone to hell so quickly. One moment they were idling in the nebula just after activating the new cloaking technology, the next, the shuttle's alarms were blaring as power to primary systems overloaded their circuitry in a spectacular light show of arcing power couplers and exploding capacitors. The ship's automated extinguishing system quelled most of the electrical fires, but a residual chemical smoke remained in the air, obscuring visibility and making it difficult to breathe.
When the initial alarms sounded out, the ship had unexpectedly pitched sideways, throwing Shepard, who hadn't been belted in, out of her chair. Her head had collided with the edge of the console, resulting in a livid gash above her right eye. In contrast, Liara, who had followed protocol and was secured in her chair, had remained seated when the ship lurched. As soon as the alarm sounded, she immediately shut down the cloaking technology and began rerouting power back to the primary systems, her main concern being the shuttle's life-support system.
"Status," Shepard barked, wincing as she tried to stave off the blood flowing into her eye.
Liara glanced over her shoulder, catching a glimpse of her lover as she struggled to stand. "Navigation is down. Sensors are down. Communications and weapons are offline. Life support is barely holding at twenty percent."
"Do you have any good news?"
"That is the good news."
Shepard shook her head, instantly regretting the action as pain from her wound seemed to make her skull implode. "Brilliant. So what the hell is the bad news?"
"There is no clear indication of what happened to the shuttle's systems."
"That's easy. The cloaking technology is a bust."
"No," Liara countered, her fingers rapidly flying across the console as she continued shutting down non-essential systems in order to re-route power. "From what I could tell, it worked properly. It was not the cause of the damage we sustained."
Now standing, Shepard turned toward the Asari, a questioning look in her eyes. "Then what was?"
Liara stopped keying in commands mid-stroke, swiveling her chair slightly so her gaze caught her lover's. "Just after we activated the cloak, some outside energy penetrated the shuttle, disrupting its systems."
"Outside energy," Shepard muttered, as she walked to the rear of the shuttle, opened a small compartment and pulled out a med kit.
"I suspect that means trouble is coming," Liara said before returning her focus to the command console.
Shepard, her voice ominously low, grumbled, "Tell me something I don't know."
"I am currently attempting to reroute power to navigation and communications."
While chuckling softly at the Asari's deadpan humor, Shepard used the small mirror on the underside of the med kit lid to examine her forehead. Then, with an efficiency born from necessity and practice, she cleaned the gash above her eye and applied a layer of medigel over the wound. Once she was satisfied that the bleeding had been stopped, she returned the med kit to its compartment, turned around, and with the smoke in the cabin finally cleared, got her first look out of the shuttle's now active viewscreen. "Liara…forget the shuttle's systems and gear up."
"What…?" The question died on the Asari's lips as she, too, got her first look at the viewscreen. "Oh…"
"Yep," Shepard growled while holstering the pistol she grabbed from the weapons locker. "Looks like trouble has already found us."
…(/\)…
USS Voyager, Intrepid Class Federation Starship
[Cargo Bay One]
Seven watched as a shuttle with an unfamiliar shape and designation materialized in Voyager's cargo bay. This was expected. The Tarians had brokered a deal with Captain Janeway, a payment of dilithium crystals for assisting with the recovery of one of their shuttles that had been marooned inside the volatile gas nebula. But, two humanoid figures stepping out of the shuttle, neither resembling a Tarian… that was not expected.
The Tarians Seven had seen were stocky, bipedal humanoids with individuals showcasing several variations of skin tones, dark brown and greenish appearing to be the most common. Their unique, and therefore distinctive characteristic, was the fact that they had four eyes which, from her base of knowledge, was an uncommon trait among other species. One pair was set wide in prominent bony sockets protruding from the corners of their face. The second set of eyes was smaller and closer together, set higher on the face, just beneath the middle of the forehead. The eyes were uniformly dark orbs, with no discernible irises or pupils.
Neither individual exiting the shuttle resembled that description.
Although unarmed, both figures wore body armor, and as they warily scanned the cargo bay, it was obvious that they expected trouble. One appeared to be a human female, but the other was unfamiliar to Seven, which was yet another unexpected detail. With her eidetic memory and past connection to the Borg collective, Seven had a vast knowledge of species in the Delta Quadrant and beyond. To encounter two unknown species within the same week, the Tarians and the new figure that emerged from the shuttle, was an unusual coincidence, and since she didn't believe in coincidences, it was also somewhat unsettling.
Before Seven could make an introduction to the newcomers, one of the Tarian scientists stepped close and she felt a sharp blade at her throat. She quickly assessed the situation and realized that each of the nine Tarian scientists were now armed with a handheld bladed weapon and had secured the Voyager personnel. With the blade pressing into her skin, she watched as Ensign Vone from the security team attempted to knock the weapon from his captor's hand, only to have the Tarian dodge the blow, wrap him in a headlock and then snap his neck with callous ease. The display worked as intended, no one else from the Voyager crew attempted escape.
The coup had been brutally quick, decisive and without a doubt, premeditated.
"Well, now… this is a surprise." The Tarian who snapped Vone's neck stepped over the lifeless body and addressed the two figures that had emerged from the shuttle. "Commander Shepard…"
Seemingly unfazed by the oddity of events, the human female replied coolly, "It's Admiral now."
"Admiral… of course. I should have expected that your precious Alliance would promote one so proficient at genocide."
The muscles in the human's jaw flexed as she gritted her teeth together tightly. "Who are you?"
"Who I am is not important."
"At least on that we agree," the human sneered.
"Oh, Admiral… petty ridicule?" The Tarian walked toward the red-head, his demeanor resembling a predator stalking prey. "I expected more from the Great… Alliance… War hero." The last words were spat more than spoken.
As the Tarian drew closer, the blue-hued humanoid stepped next to the one called Shepard, in a protective flanking position, one that implied previous combat experience. "And what about your friends?" she demanded. "What did they expect?"
The Tarian glanced at the Voyager crew being detained by his peers, then returned his gaze to the feminine alien, smiling arrogantly. "They are not my friends. They are just a means to an end."
"What do you want then?" the human asked. There was a brittle, caustic quality to her tone.
"I already have what I want… the shuttle behind you." The Tarian cocked his head to the side. "But I'll also take the pistol that is behind your back."
Although she made no move, a cold ruthlessness brewed within the human's green eyes. She may have stood six inches shorter than the Tarian, but her menacing presence somehow dwarfed his by leagues.
Seven watched the Tarian and human glare at each other, assessing each other's strengths and weaknesses, letting the charged moment stretch between them as though waiting to see who would be the first to break the silence. The longer they stared at each other saying nothing, the more dangerous the moment felt. When the fingers digging into her shoulder tightened their grip and the blade at her neck pressed a little deeper, she knew she wasn't the only one who sensed the mounting tension.
The Tarian was the one who cracked first. "If you want any chance of surviving this encounter, you'll hand over your weapon… now!"
A hint of a smile curled at the corner of the human's lips as she reached behind her back, pulled the pistol from its holster and offered it to the Tarian.
He immediately leveled the weapon's barrel at her face.
"I wish more of my people were here as witnesses," he snarled. "Your death will bring great joy to Batarians everywhere!"
His gloating laughter echoed throughout the cargo bay as he pulled the trigger.
…(/\)…
The room exploded in harsh, bright light and a deafening sound followed immediately by pungent grey smoke saturating the air.
In the midst of the sensory assault Seven's captor flinched, as did she, but his grip on her shoulder, and the blade at her neck remained. Her normal eye was blinded by the sudden flash, but her Borg enhanced implant quickly adjusted allowing her to witness the chain of events that followed.
The unexpected percussion of sound and light, similar to a flash-bang grenade, had centered on the human's pistol that was still in the Tarian's, or rather Batarian's, hand. Apparently, their ambassadors lied to the Captain about their species' true name and true intentions. Through the smoke rolling through the room, she could see that the Voyager crew and the Tarians detaining them were stunned from the attack on their senses. No one had moved to run or escape and some had even lost their footing, falling to their knees.
Not everyone was affected though. The new arrivals, Shepard and her alien companion, were clearly prepared for the weapon's bombardment and the chaos that ensued.
Shepard sprang into action by attacking the Tarian in front of her, taking advantage of his disorientation and landing a brutal side-stomping kick to his knee. An audible pop sounded out, and just as he hollered in pain, the stiffened fingers of her right hand ruthlessly jabbed him in the throat, silencing any other sound except gurgling. As his legs collapsed beneath him, she side-stepped and crushed her knee into his face, knocking him prone on his back. Then, in a blur of movement, she knelt on his chest, firmly grasped his head with both hands, and violently slammed it onto the ground twice. She glared at him for a split second, as though making sure he wouldn't move again, then grabbed her pistol from his lifeless hand and stood.
Simultaneously, the blue-skinned alien stepped forward with fiery strands of violet energy coiled around her right arm, and when she swung that arm in a wide arc in front of her, a wave of energy cascaded out, toppling over everything in its path. The Voyager crew and Tarians were knocked off of their feet, the force of the energy sending them gliding across the floor, scattered in random directions.
A Tarian in the opposite area of the cargo bay, who had avoided the brunt of the flash-bang blast, charged towards the energy wielding alien. Just before he was about to overtake her, she turned, dark blue streaks now swirling around her body at impossible speeds, creating a sphere-like protective shell. She raised her right arm, clenched her hand into the shape of a fist and the Tarian, as though struck by an invisible hammer, was thrown backward through the air, slamming forcefully against the shuttle which was five meters away. He slid down the outer hull then fell to the ground like a puppet whose strings had been cut.
The moment he was catapulted through the air, Seven felt the sudden shift in the air around her and an unaccounted heaviness that pulled down on her body, as though artificial gravity aboard Voyager had increased dramatically. She also noticed a subtle visual distortion surrounding the alien each time her energy weapon was unleashed and it followed the blue-violet waves as they swept along floor or were projected through the air.
Although she didn't recognize the weapon, the Tarian holding her captive evidently had, because when initially released, even in his disoriented state, he cursed underneath his breath and took an involuntary step back. Capitalizing on his distraction, Seven stepped backward with him, bending slightly at the waist while simultaneously grabbing his forearm, the one holding the blade, with both hands and pulling down hard, keeping the sharp edge away from her neck. The move caused the Tarian to be slightly off-balance allowing her to nimbly duck underneath his arm, and while still maintaining her hold, take a step to the side, jerking the appendage out at an awkward angle.
The Tarian grunted in pain, dropping the blade to the ground before being able to use his greater strength and mass to dislodge his arm from Seven's grasp. Not wasting any time, he retaliated by launching himself at her. She blocked his left hook with her right forearm, then his right punch to the face with her left forearm.
From the wildness of his attacks, she could tell he was still dazed and she took advantage of that weakness, knowing she had him if she was quick.
He came after her with a left jab which she sidestepped and then a right, which she ducked underneath. She feigned a straight left to his face. He brought his right arm across to block it and she leapt up in order to loop a big left hook over the block and nailed him solidly on the right cheekbone. He staggered, which was encouraging, but he did not go down.
Her right side was exposed and he hammered a solid left hook into her ribs, but because of her Borg enhancements, she barely felt the strike. She turned with the punch so she was at his flank and came around with her right elbow, hitting him solidly in the temple. He staggered again and exhaled in a kind of snort, but he still did not go down. She followed the right elbow with a left forearm, then a left back fist and finished with a right cross.
He had been too far gone to slip by her last punch and it caught him square on the cheek. The force of the impact made him take another step backward and then his legs gave out. Suddenly, he was on the floor—sitting on his bent legs, his four eyes half-lidded and unfocused.
Intending to render him unconscious, Seven stepped forward for the final strike, but just as she braced her body to deliver a front facing kick to his chest, a sharp popping noise sounded out from behind her. Then, the Tarian fell to the ground, landing roughly on his side as blood streamed out of the hole in his head, pooling on the floor beneath him.
Seven spun around just in time to witness the one called Shepard calmly firing six more lethal shots from the pistol in her hand, each one finding its mark in a Tarian, leaving a lifeless corpse in its wake. While the use of a projectile weapon was notable, Seven was more interested in the choice of victim. The Tarians were intermingled with the Voyager crew, in some cases inches apart, so singling them out did not seem like a fluke or mistake. It seemed purposeful. It seemed like execution.
The shocked Voyager crew, still recovering from being hurled across the room and seeing the Tarians gunned down, were held at bay by the alien, who said nothing, letting the energy swirling around her body speak for itself.
The sound of footsteps brought Seven's attention back to the human who was approaching at a slow, methodical pace, pointing the pistol directly at her. When she was within two meters of Seven, she stopped.
"Batarians aren't known for their intelligence." Shepard flashed a humorless smile. "Biometric security embedded in the handle. Creates quite the bang when an unauthorized person tries to use it."
Seven met the human's pitiless, unflinching gaze. "Effective."
"You recovered quickly enough, though," Shepard said, her eyes glancing briefly at the Tarian lying at Seven's feet. "So tell me, where are we?"
"You are aboard the Federation Starship Voyager."
"I haven't heard of the Federation."
"That is not surprising in this quadrant of space."
Shepard frowned, her annoyance barely contained. "Okay then… Who are you?"
"My designation is Seven of Nine, Tertiary Adjunct of Unimatrix Zero One." Seven clasped her hands behind her back, straightening her posture, a defiant gleam in her icy blue eyes. "Who are you?"
"My name is Shepard. I'm an Admiral in the Alliance Navy and a Citadel Council Spectre."
"I am not familiar with the Alliance Navy or the Citadel Council."
"That's not surprising in this quadrant of space," Shepard said, sarcastically throwing Seven's own words back at her.
Seven tilted her head, her expression a portrait of cool disinterest even as she arched the ocular implant over her left eye.
The two women stared at each other, saying nothing, doing nothing. Neither offering any chink in their stoic exterior, neither giving any ground. With the pistol still between them, a thick, uncomfortable silence permeated the air, growing exponentially as the seconds slowly ticked by.
The Voyager crew watched the scene unfold, feeling more and more helpless as one second bled into another, fearing that any movement would trigger a disastrous outcome.
Finally, Shepard moved, breaking the tension as she adjusted her grip on the pistol's handle, her eyes narrowing in irritation.
"Well," she growled, "now that we're such good friends, tell me why I shouldn't kill you."