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    1. RyonOlson 8 yrs ago

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We find ourselves in London, seconds before an airplane explodes at the airport. Two of our heroes, Garrett Foster and Isaac Merlin, have finally met at the Bureau’s London headquarters. After a quick handshake, Garrett responded to Isaac’s question. “The flight was fine, until some idiots tried to hijack it. But, we’re on the ground, and still alive, so no worries. What’s the situation-” Garrett was cut off as the sound of a distant explosion filled the air. “I don’t like the sound of that,” Garrett muttered.

“I don't either..." Walcott said, seeing dark smoke appear in the distance. A short phone call later, Walcott learned that there was a bombing at the London airport. "We need to go." Walcott said, heading into the building.

Garrett followed close behind, dragging Isaac with him as he went. When he entered the building, Walcott was already calling the elevator. Garrett tapped his left index finger on his leg while they waited. There was a chime, and the elevator arrived. The doors opened, not quick enough for Garrett's liking, and they hurried inside. Another short wait, and they were on the roof, where their ride awaited. A group of combat specialists were already there, climbing into the helicopter, and the pilot was making a final check of the aircraft.

"Five minutes, and we'll be airborne," the pilot said, spinning the tail rotor. Garrett followed Walcott into the aircraft, and found himself in a somewhat cramped rear bay. He looked at Isaac, who appeared none too happy about being drug away from headquarters.

"Oh, do cheer up, Isaac. The fun is about to begin!"

Mintes later, they were airborne and headed to the London Airport. Garrett began to experience a gnawing feeling in the back of his mind. He had a strong suspicion that nothing was as it seemed...
I'm ready to get back to work! I'll get ahold of @Shadowcell.
Captain Tabor Seitaron stood at the front of the bridge of the "Pride of Caamas," staring down at the rust-colored world below. The Dreadnaught-class heavy cruiser sat silently, its guns focused down towards the planet's surface, ready to pick off any ship that posed a threat to the fleet in orbit.

"Report, Lieutenant," he called out as he turned to the bridge crew. The majority of the crew was clones from Kamino, and this was unsettling to Tabor. He knew that the future of the war against the Separatists was going to rely on clones, but he still wished that the Republic could avoid them as much as possible. It wasn't that he didn't value human life, or any life, for that matter, but he felt that an army of clones was just like an army of organic droids.

The lieutenant, whose name was just a series of numbers, looked up from his station for a few moments. "General Yoda has ordered the troops to begin deployment. The fleet is to move in to low orbit and provide support."

Tabor nodded. "Inform the rest of our squadron that we will provide cover fire for the troops on the ground." The lieutenant nodded and began communicating with the other three Acclamator-class assault ships in their squadron. Tabor walked to the back of the bridge to where the holoprojector sat. Around it were two other officers, members of Tabor's personal staff. In the back, standing against the wall and with the hood of his cloak up, was the Jedi Master assigned to the ship.

"Master Halcyon, we have just received word from Master Yoda," Tabor stated. "The troops are to begin deployment. Will you be joining the ground force?"

Nejaa Halcyon shook his head. "No, captain, I will not. Master Yoda has asked that I stay with the fleet to coordinate the blockade." He stepped up to the holoprojector and pressed a button on it. A hologram of a clone trooper appeared. "Is Master Yoda available?"

The clone shook his head. "He is currently preoccupied. Do you have a message for him?"

Nejaa nodded. "Yes. Please inform Master Yoda that the Echo Squadron will be in position momentarily."

The clone nodded, and the connection cut out. Nejaa turned to Tabor. "How long until the transports reach the surface?"

Tabor shrugged. "Not sure. Shouldn't be more than a few minutes, though."

Nejaa's vision became distant. "Let's hope that they all make it to ground safely. Kenobi and Skywalker are relying on us."

***

During the first ten minutes of the ground deployment there wasn't much activity beyond groups reporting in that they landed. Nejaa paced back and forth near the holoprojector. Tabor stood nearby, but his attention was on a display that showed the status of the blockade. There were eight Acclamator assault ships, along with ten Dreadnaughts, including the "Pride of Caamas." They had moved out to provide the maximum coverage of the planet's surface. None of the Separatist ships had retreated yet, which meant that the ground force had taken the enemy by surprise.

Tabor turned to Nejaa. "Master Halcyon, I feel we should contact Master Airven. I do not like being kept out of the loop for this long."

Nejaa said nothing, but he stopped pacing and activated the holodisplay. He pressed a few buttons and Master Airven appeared in the air above the display.

"Master Airven," Nejaa said. "What is the report from the ground?"
The airplane set down at the London airport with a rough bump, but managed to stay under control as it slowed and headed to the terminal. Foster sighed in relief as the engines finally shut down and the terminal connector expanded outward and attached to the side of the airplane. He flipped on the internal comm. "Ladies and Gentleman, we apologize for the rough ride and hope none of you were injured. Thank you for flying London Air." He turned off the comm and turned to Walcott. "About time we landed."

Foster and Walcott opened the door to the cockpit and were greeted by two Bureau security agents. The taller of the two addressed them. "Sirs, are you alright?" he asked.

Garrett nodded. "Yeah...yeah, we are. We detained the attackers and knocked them out, so you should have no problem arresting them."

The agent nodded. "Good. Please, come this way. Your car is waiting. Agent Merlin is waiting for you at HQ."

They quickly headed through the security check and exited the building, to find a black Cadillac sedan waiting outside. Two more security guards stood outside. Although they appeared to be unarmed, Garrett was sure they had some sort of high-tech weapons from Dr. Osamu's office. They got into the sedan and accelerated away.

It took nearly an hour for them to reach the London Headquarters. Located in the Westminster district near the Thames River, which was commonly referred to as "Central London," it was a massive but inconspicuous building, dating back to the mid-1800s. The ideal location for a top-secret, multi-national organization that hunted down supernatural artifacts and people.

The sedan rolled up to the security checkpoint, and a scanner popped out from the building. It made two passes over the vehicle before a green light appeared on the gate in front of them. It slid away and they entered the compound parking lot. After they were parked, which was almost right in front of the entrance to the building, Foster jumped out of the vehicle. Everyone else exited shortly after. Foster turned to the doors and watched as they swung open and a man in a trench coat and top hat exited.

"Good day, Agent Merlin. It is a pleasure to finally meet you," Garrett said, extending his hand to shake Merlin's.
James watched as Steven hurried into the conference room, and motioned for him to sit down. "Commander, thank you for getting here quickly. I needed to talk to you before the rest of the senior staff arrived. Ten minutes ago we received a distress call from the starliner Star Queen. The ship was under attack by pirates. We are the closest starship with the power to confront these pirates and rescue the ship and its crew. We know that they are Venerath, which means they are not only going for valuable cargo, but also hostages. That tells us that they are going to be reluctant to shoot anyone who might be of importance. I need you to develop a way for us to find out what they are after, and where they are going."

He paused as Lyngia also entered the room, followed by the ship's Marine detachment commander, Charles Janson. James nodded to them as they sat down.

"Lieutenant Starev, have you run the simulator flight known as the 'Trantis Run?' That is what we are going to do here." He understood by the look on the others faces that no one else understood what the 'Trantis Run' was.

"The Trantis Run is a maneuver that was developed at the battle of Trantis Four during the Trakalian War in the 2400s. Right before a starship drops out of hyperspace, the system speed engines are powered to maximum and all shields powered to the the port side. When we drop from hyperspace, the ship rolls onto its side, and sets all weapons for broadside. If any enemies are in the area, we fire on them, disable their systems, and swing around between them and the disabled ship."

James looked at Lyngia. "Do you think you can perform this maneuver? It is one of the most challenging maneuvers that a starship of this size can perform, so it requires skill and precision."

He then turned to Steven as he waited for Lyngia to formulate her response. "Can the ship handle this kind of maneuver? The last time I performed a maneuver like this was aboard the Yorktown four years ago. That was using a 350 meter long, warp-equipped starship. Our ship is a bit bigger than that."
James sat and considered Steven's words for a moment, then replied. "Very well. Recalibrate the sensors so anything under eighty- two percent sets it off. If anything happens that needs my attention, call me immediately." He signed off and got up.

He walked to the front of the bridge and watched the colorful energies of hyperspace swirl around the ship, held back by only a microscopically-small energy field that if it failed could result in the ship being immediately destroyed. He turned around and headed to his ready room, which sat left-rear of the bridge. He entered the room and sat down, pulling up a complete list of officers that headed each department, along with the bridge crew.

After writing a few notes, a call came through. He answered to only find static. He listened for a few moments longer, checking to see if it was just hyperspace noise, and found a distress call. "...Starliner Star Queen, requesting emergency assistance. We are under attack by pirates. Any ship in range, please help!" The comm went dead again. "Computer, chart distance from the Enterprise to the distress call of the Star Queen," he asked.

"One hour, five minutes, and ten seconds," the computer replied. "That includes dropping out of hyperspace, recalibrating the navigation computer, and returning to hyperspace."

James nodded. "Thanks," he said as he got up. He ran out onto the bridge.

"Officer meeting in fifteen minutes." He called Steven on his wrist comm. "Meet me in the conference room in twelve minutes."

James motioned to Lyngia. "Don't be late."
James nodded as Steven reported in. "Thank you, Commander. Prepare the hyperdrive. We will be making the jump to hyperspace the instant we exit Earth's gravity field." He switched his attention to Lyngia.

"Lieutenant Starev, we are cleared to disembark. Clear all moorings, release the parking brake, and hit the gas." He noticed Lyngia's confusion at his use of such an old phrase, and smiled. "Take us out, one-half system speed." The ship shuddered to life as the moorings detached. The exterior lights came on, and the registry lit up. C.S.S. Enterprise, CVS-90410 appeared brightly on each side of the hull. The engines began to glow a deep blue, but as the hydrogen burned hotter, turning into plasma, the engines became a brilliant orange. The inertial dampeners kicked in, but not until after everyone was jostled around in their seats. Within minutes the ship was clearing Earth orbit and leaving Earth Spacedock behind. The ring drive began to extend from the hull on its four support pillars. The connecting segments slid into place and the ring began to glow blue.

James looked at Lyngia, who seemed overly excited. "Punch it."

The ship jumped to hyperspace and hurtled towards the far reaches of the universe.

James pulled up a hologram of the ships power distribution, and noticed the hyperdrive was below optimal. "Just like the Enterprise to have trouble on its shakedown cruise." he thought. He hit the comm. "Looks like you are doing a good job, Commander Hewlett, but could you give the hyperdrive a little more power?"
James had a moment of surprise as he watched Lyngia walk out of the turbolift, hand in pocket, fumbling with something. The first thing he noticed was her blue and pink uniform, obviously custom-made and non-standard. He wasn’t going to say anything, though, because he knew it would have taken a huge amount of convincing to get that uniform authorized.

The second thing he noticed was her bright magenta hair. “That’s going to take some time to get used to,” he thought. He stood up to greet her, but before he could do anything he noticed a cookie roll out of her pocket and land near his feet. After a moment of awkward staring and a quick apology from Lyngia, James lifted an eyebrow and motioned to the cookie.

“You should probably pick that up,” he said. After she grabbed the cookie, he motioned to her seat. “Please, take your station. We are departing as soon as the engines are prepped and ready.” He chose to not mention her tardiness. One moment of embarrassment was enough for the day.

He sat back down and hit the comm button. “Engineering,” he said, and the computer beeped in confirmation. He saw Steven’s face on the display. “Chief, are the engines ready? I would like to get underway as soon as possible.”
James listened intently as Steven talked about the technologies aboard the ship. When he was asked about why he chose Steven over other available candidates, he leaned forward in his chair and his expression turned serious.

"I'm not going to lie to you, we did consider several others before choosing you. But, no one in the fleet has ever developed a hyperspace nacelle. Yes, we have used nacelles for warp engines before, but those are considered outdated. To consider revisiting a technology that is hundreds of years old, and bring it into the modern age is genius. At the time of your submission to join the crew, all other candidates were set aside. You are going to be a great asset to the crew, and I hope that you grow to become an even greater officer. Before I go, I want to lay down a couple rules for this ship. First, The captain gets final say. Second, no saluting or annoying formalities. We’re a family, so we work as one. Finally, if you have any issues, take them directly to me. I leave you with that, Mr. Hewlett. Officer briefing will be in four hours. Don’t be late.”

James got up and left for the bridge. He stood silently in the turbolift as it ascended two hundred levels, slid into another lift tube, and shot up another thirty levels. He exited onto the bridge, which was located atop the ship’s hull, suspended by a large, retractable neck. He watched the crew do final preparations for launch, and took the center seat. He watched as the crew slowly realized he was on the bridge. Each of them stopped to acknowledge him, but he waved them on, and let them get back to work. He looked over to the pilot’s seat, which was vacant. He frowned and called up a display.

“Computer, please display the profile for the pilot.” The computer beeped and a hologram appeared in front of him, showing the officer profile of Lyngia Starev. “Inform Ms. Starev that she is running late, and needs to be at her station immediately.” The computer beeped again and he turned off the display. He watched the turbolift, hoping that it wouldn’t take long for her to arrive.
Garrett watched the hologram rotate one more time, then motioned to Walcott. "Looks like it is time to head to London, then. Is our transport ready?"

Walcott nodded. "The helicopter is ready to go. We'll fly to the nearby airport where the Antonov is waiting."

Garrett headed out of the room with Walcott following in stride. Over the next half hour they boarded the helicopter, flew to the Da Nang Airport, and had the helicopter loaded aboard their massive airplane. Twelve hours after that they were back in Manhattan, waiting for a commercial flight that Garrett originally protested, but realized the merits of flying undercover.

The two boarded the airplane, a Boeing 747-8I, without problem and soon found themselves seated in First Class, fully at the expense of Garrett. Walcott thanked Garrett for providing the luxurious seating, and Garrett grinned. "I thought it was about time to try First Class. I never travel outside of Economy Plus, but this time I changed my mind. What use is money if you don't spend it?"

A voice came over the speaker announcing the flight would be departing in a few minutes. Garrett and Walcott each fastened their seatbelt and watched the safety brief with only half interest. They each were more interested in who else was flying with them. No one that was within view seemed familiar, friendly or otherwise, but they had to make sure. Garrett reached into his bag and produced a small x-ray scanner. As he passed it over each seat with care, he was relieved to not see anything more harmful than fingernail clippers. He muttered something about clipping his way through the fuselage of the airplane, and put away the scanner. He gave a thumbs-up to Walcott, which Walcott returned.

A friendly voice came over the speakers after the safety brief. "This is your captain speaking. Our trip will take us from Manhattan to London, and we expect it to last for about seven hours. After we have reached cruising altitude, feel free to get up and explore the airplane. We will be flying among the clouds, so see the skydeck for an amazing view. Thank you for choosing Atlas Air as your courier today."

The aircraft began to hum and it slowly accelerated, reaching a speed of over two hundred miles an hour by the time it left the runway. Within ten minutes they were at altitude and the seatbelt light went off. Garrett got up and stretched his legs, while Walcott pulled out several pieces of tech and began to catch up on paperwork. Garrett realized he was also behind, but decided that it could wait until they got to London and settled in for the night.

Walcott’s eyes scanned the display in front of his eyes and said, “Mr. Foster, don’t you have some paperwork to get to? We have a long flight ahead of us.” Garrett waved off the comment and continued his pacing. Walcott had the aisle seat and as he spoke, noticed a rush of movement behind him reflected on his screen. One of the flight attendants was rushing for the flight deck. The way she moved suggested that she wasn’t actually a flight attendant, given that she body slammed the door on her way in. A moment later, there was a audible commotion in the room and the flight the craft suddenly tilted as untrained hands took the controls.

Garrett caught his balance moments before slamming into another passenger who was up walking. He apologized and rushed to where Walcott was standing. “What just happened?” he asked. Walcott began making his way, hastily, toward the flight deck. “An enemy combatant made her way into the cockpit and seems to have control of the plane. I’ll try and get in there to stop her-” He was cut off by the fist of another attendant, which met his face without causing real damage - he was just shaken.

Garrett quickly dove back into the aisle where he was seated and grabbed his bag. He produced his freeze-ray gun from it. “About time I tried this thing,” he said as he switched it on. It hummed and a status light came on. It read green. He watched as Walcott grappled with a flight attendant, and carefully aimed at the attendant. Right before he could pull the trigger, he was attacked from behind. The attendant attacking him tried to get him in a choke-hold, but he used her momentum to carry her over and she landed on her back. He tried to shoot her, but she battered his arm away. She kicked at his face, threw herself into the air, and landed back on her feet. Garrett fired a shot which caught her in the chest, causing her to lose her balance. She suddenly realized she could no longer move with speed. Garrett fired twice more, once into her legs and and again into her chest.

Walcott managed, with a lot of effort, to toss his assailant on her back and rushed the flight deck door. It was, surprisingly, open. He quickly delivered a fist to the side of the terrorist's head, she was knocked out. He shouted back, “FOSTER GET IN HERE!” As he tried to wake up one of the pilots who’d been severely beaten. The plane began to tilt to its right side again, as the controls were left, unattended. Harry strapped himself into the copilot’s seat. He took the yoke and tilted it back to a level position.

Garrett kicked the attendant for good measure, and rushed the flight deck. He slammed the door behind himself and strapped himself into the pilot’s seat. He looked the controls over and switched control back to the pilot. “Keep a watch on the fuel gauge. I’m hoping the attendants didn’t have time to dump the fuel.” He put on the headset that was still on the unconscious pilot and turned it on. The comm was instantly alive with chatter.

“Flight London One, why are you not responding. This is the United States Navy, please respond.” Garrett hit the comm switch to respond.

“United States Navy, this is Flight London One. We are royally screwed up here. The pilot and copilot are unconscious and the assailants are going to be breaking through the flight deck door at any moment.”

Garrett waited for a response, which took only seconds. “London One, how do we know you are not the assailants?”

Garrett looked over the gauges, trying to fabricate a reasonable, convincing argument. “We saved the damn plane!”

“We’re trying to save the plane!” Walcott was struggling to keep the craft under control as Garrett argued with a Navy officer.

“This is Garrett Foster, do you recognize me now?”

“No I do not, Mr. Foster.” The pilot didn’t seem impressed.

“What type of fighter are you flying?”

Garrett listened to static for a moment, then the connection came back. “I am flying a F-29 Thundercat. Why do you ask?”

“Those were developed by Admiral Greg Thompson, right?”

“I’m not at liberty to discuss this any further, Mr. Foster.”

Garrett had a moment of relief. “Listen, call Thompson and tell him my name. I know he is on your carrier. He is the only person who operates these fighters. Elite Command authorization code Foster zero, zero, zero, charlie.”

The pilot cursed under his breath. A couple moments later he replied “London One, we just lost contact with our carrier, but we can confirm your code. However you got a code like that, I don’t want to know.”

Garrett shook his head. “Never mind how I got it. How did you lose contact with the carrier? It’s midday, and we don’t have a storm in sight.” He turned to Walcott to get his input.

“I’ve got nothing. Drawing a blank.” Walcott replied to the implication of his input.

“We could have only lost communication at the source, so something is wrong with the ship,” The pilot replied. “Is everything secure for now up there?”

“As long as no one gets through the door, we are fine. It would be extremely hard to punch a plane to pieces.”
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