So ... it's been a while. I'm really sorry to anyone who was enjoying this. I've had a pretty rough time lately and I just haven't had the time or the motivation to write.
Not gonna lie, things are still hectic but it's a better kind of hectic and I'm enjoying writing again, so I'm really gonna try to update regularly.
Huge thanks to anyone who reads this update after such a long break!
Disclaimer - I still don't own anything NCIS. I'm making no money, this is a labour of love and admiration only.
The main screen in the Control Room was black now, displaying the waveform output from the transmission. Normally this would have been received in the Radio Room but, as this was a war situation, it had been patched over to Commander Ti's station.
The Control Room, when he entered, was quieter than Timothy had ever known it. Every worker sat at their own station, heads flicking repeatedly between the massive screen and their desktop computers as they waited for their Generals' arrival with unsteady breath.
Timothy strode into the centre of the room, hands locked behind his back, shoulders straight and head held high. His face was set and hard, radiating power. Every head in the room turned to watch; everyone sitting just that little bit straighter, feeling much more confident in the presence of one so obviously in control.
They all knew the stories and, even though several of them were exaggeration or myth, It was hard to feel vulnerable while under the protection of the most revered General in the whole of the Unified Interstellar Peace Force.
To Timothy's left and a step or so behind, Harriet came to a stop and mirrored his pose. At some point during her extended - and still unexplained - disappearance, she had cut her hair; the wild, curly blonde mess shorn completely off in a brutal buzz cut. It was how Timothy remembered her best, from the days of the Hotton war. In an extremely odd way it was comforting, seeing her prepped for battle like this.
She, too, gave off a powerful aura of strength. Not for nothing was Harriet Mason's name feared throughout the galaxy. There were many stories surrounding her as well, only they inspired terror rather than loyalty. Most of them were true.
Kinoan stood to Timothy's right. At first glance he seemed a little detached from the proceedings, as if he wasn't paying attention. His posture was casual, relaxed; entirely at odds with the tension in the room.
But Kinoan had been doing this for far longer than anybody remembered. He knew what image to present to their enemy. His reputation was great, yes, but if there was any chance at all of convincing the enemy that he was a harmless and slightly out-of-touch old alien, it was a role he was willing to play.
All three knew their roles. This was a game they had played many times before, the three of them standing shoulder-to-shoulder in the face of impossible adversity. It was a well-choreographed dance and not one of them needed to ask what steps to take. Instinct took over; the sure movements of people who had unshakable confidence in each other.
It was a strange bond, certainly, but it had once before saved the universe.
Behind the three, Gibbs hovered somewhat uncertainly until he was offered a chair by a slightly flustered worker. It was well known that Gibbs was a personal friend of General McGee and it had earned him immediate respect. He was adapting surprisingly well to life in planetary orbit but there were things that still caught him by surprise.
As he watched the man who just over a week ago had been the most junior agent on his team, Gibbs thought he could see, for the first time, exactly why everybody onboard the Orbiter was so in awe of him.
Since his release from the hospital deck, Gibbs had had the chance to get to know the station and some of the staff who lived and worked within its shielded walls. He had heard the stories. STARs soldiers liked nothing better, on a long, action-less night, than to sit around retelling old tales of war and and legends of heroes - especially now that war was once again in the air.
The stories of General McGee were favourites.
Gibbs had heard so many things - impossible things - about the young man he'd thought he knew. If even half of them were half-way true, then the 'real' Timothy was an extraordinary man.
Watching him now, Gibbs finally understood why everyone treated him with a mix of awe, respect and fear.
Even their earlier clash in Kinoan's office and the power Timothy demonstrated then had nothing on this.
Flanked by a warrior feared throughout the universe and a diplomat responsible for halting countless terrible wars before they'd begun, Timothy was in his element. He may not know much about the force behind the attacks, but he knew war. There was nothing in the universe that could face down General McGee in full battle-readiness and not feel intimidated.
For the first time since Harriet had dragged him from his carefully-ordered life on Earth and back into the middle of this grand mess, Timothy truly felt like he was where he belonged. The four stars on his shoulders no longer weighed him down; he felt the gun at his waist instead, and his palms itched.
Every synapse in his brain was firing, every battle he'd ever fought flashing behind his eyes. From the fight on Isgul, he recalled species and uniforms and tried to match these hazy memories to his expansive knowledge, cataloging the armies of planets which were capable of interstellar travel.
He had seen - and done - far more than his age suggested.
Some of the legends even called him 'The Vengeful God'.
"General McGee."
A low, cold voice echoed through the room, making many of the nervously waiting staff shiver visibly. The trio in the centre of the room didn't flinch and nor did Gibbs. He knew evil almost as well as Timothy did and the voice oozing out of the speakers dripped with it. The room seemed to grow colder around them.
"And your comrades-in-arms. I have been looking forward to speaking with you at last."
"You know me." McGee replied. His voice was like ice, his eyes burning with anger, but he seemed perfectly calm. "And still I do not know you."
"Yes you do." The unseen speaker chuckled, sounding more cruel than amused. "You know me very well. You just don't want to admit it."
McGee would not be cowed. He raised a single eyebrow.
"The void, perhaps?"
The speaker did not seem to notice the note of derision in McGee's voice, for it responded enthusiastically.
"That's right, General. I am the Void. I am your nightmare."
"You are a fairytale." McGee said scornfully. "A campfire story to scare newbies. Am I supposed to be afraid of the boogieman now?"
As the voice introduced itself as the Void, a shiver ran through Gibbs' body - a familiar crawling sensation that encompassed every atom of him. Timothy might sound disbelieving and unafraid but Gibbs felt a definite thrill of fear.
He couldn't recall anything of his 'mental breaks', but a primitive part of him remembered that cruel voice resounding in his head. He wanted to tell Timothy not to antagonise it but held his tongue. He'd learnt enough of the politics of this place to know never to contradict the General in front of lower-ranking staff - not that he would do so in front of an enemy anyway.
"There are as many stories of you, General." The voice had grown even colder in response. The silent workers began shifting uncomfortably in their seats, clearly in the same mind as Gibbs. "You are just as much a fairytale as I. Yet no one doubts your power."
"There is proof of my actions." McGee answered, steady as ever. Beside him, Harriet clenched her jaw as if she wanted to speak up, but dared not interrupt. "What are you but a cautionary tale against intergalactic travel? A few vanished ships? If you intend to start a war with us, do not hide behind a children's story. Face us as you are."
"The Captain knows." You could hear the smirk in the voice now, malicious and spiteful. "Don't you, Captain? You know I am what I say I am. Tell them the truth."
Harriet didn't say a word. Every eye in the room was fixed on her now but still she stood, as if turned to stone, every muscle in her body tensed so hard it looked painful.
"Come on, Captain." The voice was clearly enjoying this. "Don't be shy. Wouldn't you rather your team know what they are facing? Are you - you - really prepared to let them stumble into battle blind, for the sake of your pride?"
Harriet's jaw twitched.
"Whatever you are." Her voice was pure venom, her eyes burning with hate. Even Timothy, who hadn't been truly afraid of Harriet for years, felt the urge to take a step back. Her anger seemed to feel the room, sending adrenaline pulsing through him.
"You will not win. I will destroy you. Whatever I have to do, wherever I have to go, whoever I have to fight. You. Will not. Win."