A/N - Thanks to everyone who reviews and reads this! A little surprise for you in this chapter.
I do not own anything to do with NCIS.
Hands grabbed him and hauled him to his feet as the whole station quaked around them. Most of the Generals were still on the floor but Timothy didn't wait around to make sure they were alright. Followed by Harriet and Kinoan, he lurched through the door and headed towards the control room as fast as he could.
The corridors were eerily silent, though there were people everywhere. Humans and aliens clung to the walls and to each other as the station shuddered, fighting their way towards their command posts. Nobody spoke; the only noise was the whine of the engines fighting to keep the Orbiter steady.
The Orbiter had been hit before, hit often during the Hotton war, causing serious damage but never before had Timothy experienced a strike like this. The station had never shifted like this, never come close to being pulled from its orbit. That was supposed to be impossible.
In direct contrast to the corridors, the control room was even louder and more chaotic than before. Several people here had been injured but all except the most severely hurt were still working: dashing between consoles, shouting requests and orders across the room or into intercom speakers and calling up screen after screen of data readings from the damaged areas of the station.
They were barely in the door when the two-headed Commander skidded up and yelled across the tumult.
"Another missile incoming, impact in three minutes. We can't take another direct hit!"
"Kinoan, get the Generals out of here." Timothy directed. "Emergency teleport to the nearest safe zone. Don't take no for an answer!"
It would goad the Generals to be sent away from the heart of the crisis but it was necessary. If the Orbiter went down with the forty most powerful leaders of the Unified Interstellar Peace Force onboard, this war would be lost before it even began.
Timothy didn't see Kinoan's nod; he had already grabbed Harriet's arm and pulled her from the control room into a nearby elevator. She didn't need to ask where they were going.
The station was heavily defended but this attack had been so sudden and so unexpected that they hadn't had the chance to respond. The very lowest level was equipped to deal with a threat like this – at least, it was supposed to be.
"If the station goes down-," Harriet said darkly.
"I know." Timothy interrupted. "We won't let it."
The wait in the elevator was interminable but, finally, the doors opened onto the lowest level. They had emerged in the centre of a massive circular space, stretching out for many miles in every direction and bordered by hundreds of small cubicles. Inside each was a high-backed chair with joystick controls on both arms, facing out into deep space. Each cubicle controlled a high-power laser cannon designed to take out hostile missiles.
Like the control room, this place was abuzz with activity. Thousands of frantic soldiers in military uniform hurried to and from the cubicles, shouting questions at a stoic man stood just meters from Timothy and Harriet.
"Captain Cleve!" Timothy called. "Status update."
The Captain swung around. He was human, about forty and heavily built, wearing a uniform identical to Harriet's. There was a thin sheen of sweat on his forehead, the only outward sign of the stress he was under. Captain Cleve was in charge of the Missile Defence Unit, the station's main protection against this kind of attack.
"The first one caught us off guard." He grunted without waiting for introductions; he knew very well who he was speaking to. "Got off a few rounds at the second one, but it didn't make a damn bit of difference. Barely knocked the thing off course."
"We've got another incoming in two minutes." Timothy said, and the Captain swore under his breath.
"Got a plan, General? 'Cos we got nothing." It clearly took a lot for Cleve to admit this. He didn't look Timothy in the eye. Instead, he fixed Harriet with an intense stare and Timothy also turned to look at the woman. He was more used to close combat, fighting on the ground against an enemy you could see and hear and whose weaknesses were observable.
"This is your area of expertise, Captain Mason." Timothy said quietly. "Any ideas?"
"Get everyone to their posts, Captain." Harriet ordered, glancing at her watch. "As soon as that next missile comes on radar, I want every single station to fire on it at once. Give it all we've got. McGee, you take point."
There was no time to question; Timothy dived into the nearest cubicle and fired up the laser blaster. Harriet's voice, ever calm, sounded on the intercom behind his head to relay her instructions.
Seconds later, a small flashing point appeared on the radar screen.
"Don't stop until that missile had been destroyed." Harriet's orders were almost drowned out by the phenomenal noise of over 5000 laser cannons powering up. The whole cubicle vibrated as Timothy swung the barrel around to line up with the incoming missile.
"Fire!"
The next twenty seconds were a blur of noise and blinding white-blue light as every cannon within range emptied everything the station had to give at the projectile. Timothy felt cold dread in the pit of his stomach. The vibration was so severe he couldn't see the radar screen a meter or so from his face. He had no way of knowing whether Harriet's plan was working.
He didn't want to think about what would happen if it didn't.
Then, as suddenly as it had started, the chaos stopped. There was a moment of dead silence. Timothy felt a surge of relief so strong it made him light-headed for a moment. There was no flashing point on the radar screen.
The missile had been destroyed.
The cubicles around him erupted with cheers and yells of triumph as thousands of ecstatic bodies poured out, slightly green in the face, all riding an adrenaline high. For a brief second, Timothy wanted to join in their celebrations. The unknown enemy wasn't so terrifying now they had won even this small victory.
But General McGee pulled himself from the control chair and walked, back straight and head high, through the crowd. Many saluted but none attempted to include him in their triumphant congratulations.
"Good call." He said to Harriet in a low voice. "That was too close."
"I'll make sure the cannons are fully charged." Captain Cleve said briskly, a slight smile on his face as he watched his soldiers, who were quieter now but no less relieved. "They might fire again."
"I'll stay here. I want to study the readings, see if there isn't another way too-"
Harriet stopped talking abruptly, staring through the glass with alarm on her face. Timothy swung round just as one anonymous soldier groaned, even as she made her way back into her cubicle, "What now?"
It was a feeling Timothy sympathised with. The cold dread was back now, maybe even stronger than before, as he realised what he was seeing.
A beam of electric blue light, several meters wide, cut a brilliant path through the dark outside. Timothy couldn't tell where it originated from but its destination was all too clear. It carved straight through Earth's atmosphere to impact against the surface.
This time, Timothy didn't have to grab Harriet's arm on the way to the elevator. She called over her shoulder as the doors slid shut.
"Re-charge the cannons. If another missile comes, do the same thing again."
Kinoan was waiting by the control room doors, so close that Timothy almost collided with him.
"We don't know yet. The beam doesn't seem to be destructive but we don't know what it-"
"It's a teleportation beam!" A voice called out above the general clamour - the two-headed Commander whose name Timothy still didn't know. "Targeted somewhere in America, can't be sure where yet."
"What are they after?" Timothy demanded.
"Don't know, but we can interrupt the signal." The Commander said. "We can't stop it but we can divert it. Bring whatever it is they're after onboard the Orbiter."
"Is that safe?" Kinoan asked.
"Doesn't matter." Timothy said, striding over to the Commander's console. "We can't let them get their hands on it, whatever it is."
It bothered Timothy that he still didn't know who "they" were.
"Get to it." The Commander barked at his staff, who immediately began working. They spoke so quickly to each other that Timothy could hardly work out what they were saying.
"Done it!" One alien, who looked something like an upright orange cat, cried out triumphantly. "Teleportation beam diverting to the Luna Orbiter control room."
The light was blinding; Timothy threw an arm across his eyes to block out the glare. Even then, spots danced in his vision after the light died down. It took several moments before he figured out what he was seeing.
In a heap on the floor, a tangle of limbs and frightened, bewildered eyes, were six people.
Six people Timothy recognised.
Gibbs, Tony, Ziva, Ducky, Palmer and Abby.