4. My New Life-3

Story by tcs_knightlance on SoFurry

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#4 of The Journey to Destiny


My New Life

Part 3: Reminiscences, Dangers, and Responses

With a double flash of light, the fleet exits slipstream and warp and directly enter a stable geo-polar orbit around Chakona, of course, Chakona Control wasn't too happy with this sudden intrusion but apparently they spotted the Star Fleet ships in our midst, as well as the rescued convoy ships in tow.

I let Boyce handled the usual bureaucracies while I had the task force hold station and dispersed at Lagrange point 3 and 4, more or less right next door to Chakona Gateway Station but safely out of the way of transiting ships, also this arrangement allows the task force to more rapidly respond to any emergency that should arise.

Boyce told me that the Federation Council just so happened to be meeting here on Chakona, so arranging an audience with them along with the Chakat Council shouldn't be a problem but it will take around a week to get it set up meaning that my crews will be more or less stuck aboard ship for about a week or so, but Darkcloud and I, on the other hand, got to head down to the planet and either play tourist and/or simply enjoy the hospitality of Boyce's family...

Boyce's family and extended chakat family was there to greet him as he got out of the spaceport's arrival terminal and he is quickly buried in an avalanche of hugs and lick-kisses.

He breaks free long enough to introduce me and Darkcloud to them, but I already recognized them from the Intel files on Boyce; Goldfur, the matriarch of the family, along with hir foxtaur and wolftaur mates, Garreck, Malena, and Lupu, with her other mate, Goldendale, a human-turned-Chakat when a transporter incident destroyed his original human pattern and Goldfur used hir pattern to save him, then he/shi had to go through several weeks of re-adjustment and re-orientation to finally become a Chakat both in heart and body; Forestwalker, with hir foxmorph and Chakat mates, Kris, Katrina, and Midnight, not to mention that Boyce is shared by both Forest and Midnight as their mate; Quickpaw, the family's official midwife, physician, wet nurse and Boyce's Companion (whatever that means); and Leanna, a fennec foxmorph herm rescued from a crippled slaver ship from the Gospel Fringe, an area of space known to the Federation as the Group of Non-aligned Worlds and educated by Forest what it's like to be truly free and what it means to be loved unconditionally; shi's mated to Kris and Katrina.

I also spot Boyce's second wife, Zhane, a Rakshani female and a gorgeous one at that, as well as their son, Kernos; Kayla, whom I've already been introduced to, and then I noticed an unusually tall and buxom Caitian.

I look at Boyce with a questioning look and he mouths: M'lai, then realization hit me as this is no doubt his fifth wife according to Caitian custom, representing fertility.

Next thing I know the chakat horde charges in, and as the saying goes, 'When in Rome, do as the Romans'...wise words indeed; I also overhear that the cubs were left back at home under the care of a sitter, I couldn't help wonder if the sitter bit off more than he/she/shi could chew.

After the usual greeting hugs, most of them were starting to ask questions, mostly about Darkcloud and me, and I was about to answer back when my situational awareness rang alarm bells in my head, immediately I swiftly scan the crowd and sure enough, all the clues are there, two humans in overalls were moving stiffly, their overalls bulging in the wrong places; I estimated that in roughly 40 seconds they are going to bring out weapons, hose the crowd and disappear in the confusion...wrong day to cause trouble, assholes.

I leaned over to Boyce, and whispered into his ear but kept my volume high enough to be overheard by the others, "Boyce, in around thirty seconds, trouble is going to rear its ugly head in the crowd, I'm going to head it off and stop it before anyone gets hurt. I'll see you in 5."

I break off from the group and began to stalk my prey but not before readying my weapons, sure enough, they are about to whip their guns out and hose the crowd, not fast enough though.

I whip out my double .45 caliber SOCOM pistols, my body aiming automatically and double-tapping both triggers, both pistols roaring powerfully as my targets crumple down to the ground, their craniums shattered.

I automatically sweep my surroundings for more enemies but all I see are shocked Chakats, 'taurs, morphs, aliens and humans, all wondering at why I had shot two spaceport workers without warning; keeping my pistols pointed at the bodies, I approach the bodies carefully but from the amount of blood pooling on the floor, I knew that these idiots are just two more kill marks on the killboard, holstered my pistols and thoroughly search the bodies, finding two Power-guns and two power cells each for the weapons as well as ID but those are probably fakes, the crowd began to murmur as they saw the weapons pulled out of the bodies then began to slowly disperse as security arrived, Boyce arrives to get me out of trouble but the security staff simply let me go because I saved a lot of lives today.

Boyce, Goldfur and the others were shocked as to how I had easily spotted the gunmen where security didn't, I explain, "The reason how I spotted those terrorists was my acute sense of situational awareness, situational awareness is the basic way how your environment blends together coherently, anything that does not blend in is either a danger to you or to those around you, it's something that combat hones to a razor's edge."

Forest speaks up, "Then why didn't you just try to stun or capture them?"

"Training and combat experience, everyone who went to any of the services' academies are trained to do one thing: to engage the enemy decisively and ensure his complete destruction, 30 years of war tends to firm up that idea; the second they tried to pull out their weapons, I became nothing more than an emotionless guidance system for my weapons; I pull out my guns and double-tapped them without thinking about it."

My eyes confirm the truth behind my words; any enemy that threatens the peace will feel nothing more than cold steel in the head.

Most of them shiver visibly at my cold words, then I saw Lupu's eyes widen, looking right behind me; I react instantly, I spin low on my right heel as another terrorist comes at me with a combat knife, his arm outstretched, intending to stab me but never gets a chance as I swiftly deliver a knee-shot into his stomach, knocking his breath out, I snap his wrist as I force his weapon away and instantly deliver a neck-breaker twist to the neck and dropped the body by my feet, Quickpaw reaches out to check him but I stop hir from doing so by saying "He's already dead, leave him."

But shi checked him anyway; shi then looks up at me, clearly shocked at my cavalier attitude, "Why?"

"He attacked me and I decisively engaged...and destroyed." My face totally devoid of emotion.

Shi got up shaking slightly at my lack of feelings for the human I just killed, Boyce, however, seems to understand.

Boyce walks up to Quickpaw and hugs hir closely, "It's alright, Quick, you just didn't know what Nathan had to do to survive, his reactions are hard-wired already from years of non-stop war, it's just that, from what Nathan has told me, the Terran Confederation never had a moment's peace ever since encountering the Kilrathi, given the Kilrathi's warrior ethos and their believed genetic superiority, refusing peaceful co-existence and attacked without provocation, forced to respond, the entire Terran Confederation girded for war, and for over thirty years, that war raged back and forth, both sides evenly matched, until they were forced to destroy the Kilrathi homeworld in order to win, but Nathan had to pay his own price for that victory."

"What price?" Quickpaw asked, shocked at the story Boyce is telling.

"He lost Tasha, the only female Kilrathi combat pilot, his arch-nemesis...and his fiancé."

Everyone is shocked silent as they assimilated this new information and stay that way even after passing immigration, we walk over to the car or Personal Transportation Vehicle (PTV) park, boarding the mini van obviously sized for taurs, and left the spaceport proper.

Garrek broke the silence, "Nathan, I don't mean to pry, but I am curious, how or where you and...Tasha met each other?"

That part of my memories regarding Tasha is the part I cherish the most, the part that didn't hurt the most, "Tasha and I meet in space, during the First Enigma Campaign; I was chosen to fly the new experimental Sabre-wing super starfighter during that campaign, I was also a newly minted pilot then, fresh out of the academy and totally lacking in combat smarts; she was flying an extensively customized Jalthi heavy fighter, she was already a veteran pilot and fairly well experienced; we ran into each other during a patrol mission out in the boonies of the Enigma sector, our wingmen peeling off to engage each other, leaving me and Tasha alone, facing each other."

It was quite obvious that I was her next prey and I received briefings regarding her style of combat plus psychological conclusion and recommended tactics to be used against her, I was alone but not helpless so I waited for her to make her move, apparently she can get quite impatient, cause a few minutes later, she engaged her drives and came at me."

During that time, I made good use of the Sabre-wing's massive loadout of weapons; I had quietly released several mines directly behind me, hoping that she would get impatient and charge, which she did, all I had to do was to fire all my vertical maneuvering jets, then engaged my drives, she ran head on in the mines but I had seriously underestimated the strength of her forward shield, she came out of the mines blast zone with some serious scorches and some light damage but nothing that would impair her combat effectiveness, I knew that I wasn't flying a production Sabre-wing but a prototype which didn't have its complete load of armor and weapons, then I thought to myself, "Nathan, why don't you show this Cat bitch that you're not prey but a predator not to be messed with."

And with that in mind, I back-flipped and took her on, by the time another patrol of both sides came by and took us back to our respective ships, both of us were too badly shot up to do anything except talk, it was then that Tasha and I found a sense of friendly aggressiveness towards each other, thus began a duel of sorts."

We would find each other, fight with all our skill and might until one of us triumphs over the other but not to the death because more often than not we would always end up in a draw, then our respective commands assigned both of us on different ends of the frontline, so we had to put our little contest on hold, but we kept track of each other and our victories over skilled pilots, then the two of us were then reassigned to the Vega sector, by then, I was an experienced pilot and squadron leader, due to my ace kills, I was given the chance to fly the new ultra-state-of-the-art Thunder Wolf advanced escort/interceptor fighter, the same T-Wolf I still fly to this day, albeit modified later to my specifications."

Later, while I was away on patrol, Tasha appeared near the Tiger's Claw, my carrier ship, and launched a message pod towards her, it was addressed to me, locked with a phrase that we shared during our first encounter with each other."

It contained a secret communications program that allowed us to talk or send a message to each other without our flight recorders or our security programs from picking up what we said or wrote to each other, and we could do so even from aboard ship or from our fighters, all I had to do was install the program into my computers, compose my message or recording, send it and it's done; and no, it's not designed to access secure files but simply provide a means for me and Tasha to talk to each other, so it wasn't a security risk."

Farther down the line, in the later stages of the Vega Campaign, I was put on enforced leave for medical reasons, seems I was getting severe hyperacidity cramps in my stomach, due to prolonged active duty-related stress, so the ship's doctor shoved me into an enforced vacation on the Vertar system, a system that both sides consider neutral, turns out that both sides also use it as a vacation site for both civilians and military personnel on leave."

Arriving there, I ran into Tasha by chance, turned out that she was sent to Vertar too by her doctor, due to severe physical fatigue from prolonged active duty as well; on Vertar, we got to know each other personally but not intimately, because both sides tend to keep apart of each other but they do cordially interact with the other when necessary, but not that often; you could say that Tasha and I are the oddballs of the lot but no one bothered us because of our military IDs and because of Tasha's social ranking, we parted friends after our doctors considered us again fit for active duty; our duel continued on and off until our little accident over Omicron 5."

The system code-named Omicron was a system strategically located over a very critical jump point junction, controlling this junction could be critical for winning the war, but the Kilrathi knew this too, so sent a large fleet to capture the system, but the real key protection of the system was by not getting caught during its unpredictable plasma storms that ravage that area of space around and between the planets, ConFed had already established a heavily armed and shielded base, plus a heavily armed and equipped garrison on the fourth moon of the system's third innermost planet giving us a place to fall back into, however, while on solo patrol near the fifth planet, I ran into Tasha, out hunting for prey."

The second we saw each other, we went straight at each other, guns blazing and missiles launching, then out of nowhere, a plasma storm blew up, catching our fighters out in the open, severely crippling us and knocked us into a rapidly degrading orbit, my badly damaged sensors were able to tell me though that the planet we're crashing into, is habitable to both humans and Kilrathi alike, but its gravity field is 20-25% heavier than Earth's meaning that my movement is going to be severely restricted until I adopt to the heavier gravity, we were on that planet for the next year and a half, surviving on our wits, skills, and training, during that time, Tasha and I grew close, it was during a thunderstorm, Tasha never saw a thunderstorm before, while we were cuddling together, that we shared our first kiss, things went on downhill from there, we shared each other's secrets, how we felt for each other, everything; during that time I worked to find a way to get us off the planet, after several attempts."

Eventually, I was able together an emergency transponder by combining and tinkering together all the salvageable parts of our starfighters but by then the strategic situation had already changed; the Kilrathi had finally captured the Omicron system but at a heavy price, a transport ferrying supplies was passing by when it picked up the signal and informed nearby Kilrathi forces, which sent a troop carrier and four heavy fighters for escort, you can imagine what I would be swearing when I found out of the strategic situation."

My fate would have been a POW camp and enslavement, had Tasha not intervened on by behalf and because of my reputation among the Kilrathi as I was a regular wingman of Chris Blair, a friend of mine from our Academy days, and a pilot of equal skill to Blair, whenever we flew together, the two of us became an unstoppable force of nature, we were like a pair of matched blades, deadly individually but virtually unbeatable together; Tasha petition her father to make me her personal bodyguard on the grounds that since we have fought against the other and have survived together, she reasoned that it forms an unbreakable bond between us and that I would willingly and unflinchingly protect the other."

Many of the Kilrathi lords agreed with her, that I, of all the humans, showed and lived by a considerable code of honor and conduct that have impressed many Kilrathi, both commoner and high-born."

We stopped in front of a wide three-story home, blatantly obvious as the family's homestead; we got out of the PTV, and went in.

After settling in and getting to know the cubs, Goldfur and the rest of the family asked me to continue my story, I made myself comfortable on the floor with a few pillows and with Midnight's lower body as my back rest, "Okay, where was I? Oh, right!"

So it was decreed that I am to be Tasha's bodyguard, provided I undergo training under one of the Kilrathi's toughest and foremost weapons master, Master Kel'tak'nar'shar who teaches the dual blade style of ser'vec'nar, with the thought that I wouldn't survive the training."

It seems that whenever a Kilrathi become a master of any kind of discipline, they forsake their hrai name, as a sign that their allegiance is to the Kilrathi people rather than to their families, but that doesn't eliminated the pride a hrai or clan will feel whenever one of them become a master, from what I have heard the status of master is free for both male and female and according to scuttlebutt, this guy is one of the toughest and most thorough and strict teacher/trainer this side of the galaxy, I couldn't help but wonder what Tasha has gotten me into."

Our time on Omicron 5 paid dividends for me; my body is toughened and strengthened already and the gravity on Kilrah was 10-15% less than that of Omicron 5 so the training regimes for strength, endurance, and flexibility merely ensured that my body remained that way, it didn't take my master long to figure that out so he raised the ante on me, intensifying and lengthening the regimes until he found my limits and pushed me beyond that, it was tough."

Being picked on and degraded by my fellow students, falling to my knees in exhaustion, it was hellish but I never gave up, and it was this trait and my open-mindedness that opened the way to the more advanced levels, it was at this point did I earn the grudging respect of my fellow students; the advanced levels were brutal, the students are trained by batches and up to a certain level, then we were pitted against the students of another master and had us fight to the death, only survivors are allowed to reach the next level of the master's fighting style; the batch I was in, charged as the other group did the same, however, insane charges wasn't my style and I held back my reluctant partner, Melek, as I carefully weighed where the best place to attack was."

He was impatient though and charged in, I had no choice but to watch his back, but I made sure my strikes were crippling but non-fatal. Sure enough, both sides broke off to regroup; my group had lost three members while the other had only lost two, my group was bewildered why we were getting pounded so easily, I realized but hadn't noticed until now that the other group's swings are tight and controlled while my group's are wild and unrefined."

It occurred to me that our master did this deliberately so we could learn form our mistakes but my fellow students hadn't figured it out yet where as I have, then it hit me that the master knew that I would be recording all my moves on holo and go through them again to see if I made any mistakes and I been doing a lot of practicing of my corrected moves but none of the other students have realized their mistakes, I did try to tell them several times but they brushed me off, so I resolved to watch and save them from their mistakes, now I had to save their hides."

So on the next round, I took command; I spread them out, while I took the center, my new blade skill seamlessly blending with my ninjitsu, taekwando, judo, aikido and kung-fu training, then another thought hit me, the master was either briefed or informed of my previous martial arts training, knowing that I already have the necessary discipline and experience required for using the ser'vec'nar style; as the gong sounded, ending the round, covered in blood, I glanced around."

I had torn a bloodly path through the other group with only a few survivors remaining, while my group is bloodied but intact, then one by one, my fellow students bowed to me, acknowledging my strength and power, followed by my master's nod of approval, when I turned to face him. The master gave us roughly a week to rest but I didn't bother; everyday I went back to the arena and practiced alone for several hours, utilizing all my skills and training, but this time though, all the other students are there waiting for me, when I asked them what they were doing here, one of them stepped forward and told me why; they wanted me to help refine their skills, to help strengthen their discipline and to learn to how to think clearly before a fight instead of just charging in without forethought, so during that week alone, I helped them improve significantly."

And from that day onwards, all of us would spar against each other, helping each other spot possible mistakes and places for improvement but what we didn't know that our master was watching us, going through everything, perfecting and sharpening our moves and techniques until everything is totally reflexive."

After 6 months of the Kilrathi calendar, our training is finally completed, the day before the rite of passing, our master let us off early to rest for the ceremony, we went to the arena to contemplate the coming days, then Melek suggested that we initiate the blood bonding, a Kilrathi rite of sharing of blood, thus becoming blood brothers regardless of rank, standing and family."

At first, I thought that he meant only Kilrathi, then when I realized that Melek was looking at me, did I realized that he meant me too; drawing my blade, we simultaneously sliced our palms and let our blood spill into a drinking bowl as we pass it around, then we each took a single lap, well, sip for me, passing it around again, symbolizing our circle of brotherhood and friendship, then with a cauterizer that I brought with me, we seal our wounds, cleaned up, and went to our quarters to sleep."

The next day was a ceremony typical of the Kilrathi, a bloody battle to test our prowess, 28 massive gladiators versus the 8 of us, knowing that this would be our final test, we prepared ourselves for it, planning contingencies and possible scenarios, so we were ready for it but what we didn't expect was that our master is going to take part in the ceremony; he is going to challenge me!"

Delegating command to Melek, I readied my blades and faced my master in one-to-one combat, he made the first move, I blocked and countered, soon it was almost impossible to tell who was striking or parrying who, our duel continued long after the others have finished."

In the end, something told me to take a chance by combining my two blades together, which made for awkward handling, in a downward strike with all of my strength and power behind it, and it worked, my blades broke through my master's defense and carved two bloody but shallow cuts down his body, from his torso to his abdomen, then I fell to my knees in exhaustion but kept my guard up just in case the old cat still some tricks left."

He got up, bowed to me and said, "Of all the students I have taken over the years, you, Nathan, you alone have truly and honorably bested me, just as I hoped you will; your skillful blending of your previous martial training coupled with the skills of the dual blade ser'vec'nar has turned you into a excellent warrior and as a token of honor and respect of your skill and fighting prowess, I present to you these custom-forged ser'vec'nar swords, they are small for a Kilrathi but perfect for a human of your size, strength and agility, please try them out."

Taking the swords, I unsheathe them and tested them through a full range of strikes, parries, blocks and lunges, they are perfectly weighed and balanced for me; turning to face my master, I bow to him and said, "Thank you, master, though I may have bested you, you are still my teacher nonetheless and I am still willing to listen for your words of wisdom, should you have any to give me."

"I only have one thing left to say, Nathan: 'May you live long with honor, integrity, and wisdom; and may the rest of your days be full of glory.'"

The stadium was silent with only the constant rumble of the active volcanoes outside, accolades from a master are rare but for a master to give one to a human was truly once in a lifetime, then the crowd roared out, everyone is amazed at what they have seen but I block them out, all I saw is Tasha beaming proudly at me for my achievement and the smiles of my blood brothers as we trade thumbs up at our graduation, soon after, Thrakhath, Crown Prince of the Kilrathi and Tasha's father, grudgingly proclaimed my official status as Tasha's personal bodyguard but unofficially, I'm also her guardian, tutor, and when we're really alone, lover."

We both knew our feelings for each other but we had to keep them hidden from everyone but it seems that the Dowager Empress, Tasha's great grandmother, knew that we loved each other and when Tasha came to visit her, she surreptitiously told the both of us that we have her blessing, should we marry; she knew and saw how deep our bonds of love has grown and sooner or later, we would marry regardless of what others say."

So for the next two years I was to remained by Tasha's side, guarding her, as well as learning everything about the way of life of the Kilrathi and also gathering intelligence on how the power structure and political power ebbs and flows, however, ever since being brought down, Thrakhath had forbidden Tasha from frontline duties because ever since she became an active combat pilot, she's been neglecting her social role as a royal princess, now that she is back on Kilrah, she must resume those duties, something that's not going to make her happy but since I'm there with her, she could bear with the boredom...barely."

Later, Tasha and my blood brothers were able to arrange for my escape back to Confed territory with the help of Confed Intel; after several weeks of debriefing, I was back serving in the frontline aboard the TCS Victory, where my best friend, Chris Blair, the Heart of the Tiger, as he is called by the Kilrathi, is also assigned, six weeks later, while out on patrol, we encounter a Kilrathi transport convoy comprised of 20 ships, as per orders, Blair and I positioned our Excalibers to begin our attack when one of the ships' transponders began to blink out a code, one which I recognized as a private code shared by me and my blood brothers, I aborted my attack run and had Blair do the same, telling him the reason why, that convoy is carrying my blood brothers to safety in the Ghorah Khar system and political asylum."

After getting word to Confed HQ and receiving their instructions, the entire Victory battle group escorts the 20 ships to safety in the Ghorah Khar system; I met with my blood brothers during the trip to Ghorah Khar to update myself on the situation there, from what I have gathered, it seems that Thrakhath is slowly becoming unhinged and Tasha has been slowly working her way away from her father, hoping to defect soon and make our love more permanent."

I had difficulty sleeping each night, worrying about Tasha's well being, finding out that she intends to defect, helps me sleep better, as I gently rub the medallion she gave me before I escaped. Then I lost her, during Operation Temblor, I received a last minute communication from her saying that she is enroute to Kilrah during Temblor but she didn't know that as we were under comm silence for the whole op. According to her message, she's taking the fastest route home via jump point KC154-6a, which exits near enough Kilrah that travel to and from the planet is relatively short, but the Temblor bomb was designed to trigger a catastrophic geo-destabilization of the planet's crust which was already highly unstable in the first place, destroying both the planet and the mustering enemy fleet orbiting around it...and costing me the one person I had truly loved and cared for, regardless of race or species."

I finish my story with tears streaming down my eyes, remembering the pain of the loss of my fiancé, hoping to marry her after the war but now that hope is torn asunder; but I recall her words, for Tasha once said to me, "Should the fires of war claim either one of us before we are wed, Nathan, promise me that you will carry on, to live life as we had before, to find new loves but never forgetting, always cherishing both the past and the present, to live for the future, promise me, my love, promise me..."

*I promise, my love, I promise*

About a week later, Boyce relayed a message through Goldie that both the Federation Council and the Chakat Council are ready to meet with me tomorrow to decide the fate of Task Force Chrono-Storm, that night I prepped everything I'll possibly need to swing the vote to my favor, including my dress uniform complete with every award I earned from 20 plus years of war but Goldie, Forest, and Midnight were perplexed as why does my dress uniform includes weapons, I explained to them that over the years, parties hosted by high-ranking officers or by politicians were attacked by terrorists intent on making a statement, eventually some officers began to bring weapons as part of their dress uniform, it rapidly became standard procedure for all military officers to do so, for me I simply expanded my load of weapons and no one ever complained about it because several times before, my extra heavy load of weapons saved a lot of lives, and in the end, Goldie, Forest and Midnight relented.

The next morning, an official shuttle from Star Fleet came and picked me up from Goldie's home and dropped me off in front of a broad, glass-fronted building; Boyce is waiting for me at the front door, I hurry up the steps and shook hands with him.

"Ready?" he asks.

"As ready as I'll ever be." I answer.

"Let's go face the music then," he smiles encouragingly, "By the way, both councils are quite impressed by the way your task force rescued the convoy but the Chakat Council was rather disapproving of the way you slaughtered the ambush force with no regard for their rights."

"Did you tell them what I told you?"

"Yes, I did and that was what prompted this meeting, they want to get the measure of the CO of Task Force Chrono-Storm."

"Let's not keep them waiting then." And matched words with action by increasing my pace from a walk to a fast trot, and I quietly hoped that nothing untoward happens today on Chakona; stopping in front of the council chambers, I straighten my uniform, checking if everything is in place, then I stepped forward, and the automated doors split apart allowing me to pass, with Boyce a step behind me, I resolutely prepared myself for the outcome of the meeting.

Both councils came straight to the point, they've all been briefed of my history and knew that I hated circuitous talk and loved straight talk, all the council members carefully and thoroughly grilled me, especially the chakats but my gut tells me that all bar the representative of the Holy Christian Kingdom are in favor of acceptance then suddenly the building shakes slightly, the council members dismiss it as nothing but that strange sixth sense which saved my life several times in combat is blaring alarms in my head.

I instantly went to the door and engage its locking mechanism as I brought my wrist-comm up to my mouth, "All ships, emergency alert, prep for emergency reinforcement and hot extraction, possible terrorist attack in progress at my coordinates; emergency response group, stand-to; all fighters, prep for close air support action; Emergency response Delta in effect, repeat, response Delta in effect!"

"Nathan, what's going on?" Boyce is standing, looking rather worried.

"We got hostile incoming, Boyce," I answer darkly, "are there any rooms adjacent to these chambers?"

"Yes, the conference room over there."

"Is there any other way into that room?"

"No, only through those doors."

Pointing at the locked doors. "Great, get them inside. Hurry, we don't have much time."

I toss Boyce an Advanced Plasma Compression Rifle as he herds both council groups into the adjacent conference room as several hands pound the door, as if emphasizing my point, several angry voices could also be heard coming from the other side of the door, "You, the freaks and freak-loving scum inside, open up or we'll blow the door!"

Seeing the last council member enter the conference room and Boyce locking it behind him, I stood alone, the only line of defense between both councils and the terrorists, one-man rearguard action, a situation I had faced before and relished; shedding my dress uniform, I press a recessed button at my wrist, instantly my Hazard battle armor decloaks and slid into place around and along my body, deploying completely within seconds.

Mentally selecting my available weapons, I selected the heavy but powerful Gf900 Gamma-series Minigun with attached 40mm auto grenade launcher, a suitable weapon for medium to close range firefights, positioning myself 3 meters to the left of the door, I lie in wait.

I didn't have to wait long, as the doors are blown in, not that the explosion bothered me in anyway.

After a five second count, the terrorists charge in, I instantly let loose the Minigun, its powerful chainsaw roar almost drowning out every other sound, at a firing rate of 1200 rounds per minute, it tore apart the initial group of terrorists caught in my firing arc, shield penetrator shells turning them into bloody pulp in seconds, their compatriots are caught off guard by this sudden assault; I don't allow them to regroup, arming the grenade launcher, I rapidly thump out six anti-personnel rounds, filling the room with smoke and fire.

I mentally switch my visor into thermal scanning mode, allowing me to see through the smoke, I see the results of my work, a bunch of dead terrorists who will never again see the light of day, then my visor's HUD indicated that more hostiles are engaged with the 4th platoon of the 2nd Battalion of the 7th Marine.

Leaving four auto-turrets guarding the council chambers, I swap the Minigun for a Quantum Burst launcher, and head down the corridor, as step on to the 2nd floor foyer, I spot six terrorists holding the top of the stairs, I took aim and fired, the micro-quantum torpedo striking directly in the middle of the small semi-circle, sending all six flying into the air, swapping weapons again, this time for an M60 loaded with the same ammo type as the Minigun, I went prone and began firing from my position at the top of the stairs, pummeling the terrorist positions below.

Taken off guard by my rear attack, the terrorists are disoriented long enough for the marines to toss in several flash-bangs, charge in and eliminate them. I patch into the Marine command channel and bark out, "Lt., report!"

A human Marine Lieutenant runs up to me, removing his armored helmet as he approached, "Sir! Council grounds and all floors are secured, 6th platoon have secured the conference room, awaiting the all-clear signal; Wild Card and Thunder squadrons are circling overhead ready to provide air support and we got four X-Landers ready to pull us out."

"Have 6th platoon confirmed my kills?"

He touches his ear-bead receiver, "Affirmative, General, 6th platoon just confirmed your kills, although..."

"Although what?"

"The council is a little put off by the little mess you made." He finishes with a grin.

"Oh, that mess. Carry on, Lt. I'll take care of the politicos." I finish with a casual salute.

He salutes back sharply, "Aye, sir. But I won't envy your job though."

"You got that right." I mutter under my breath. Fast jogging back to the chambers, I passively note the battle damage of the firepower I had unleashed from one heavy weapon.

Bullet craters pockmark one side of the chamber, testament to the firepower I had unleashed, six large scorches tell where my six anti-personnel grenades have exploded and only little scrapes of flesh tell of the former existence of several terrorists, terminated without hesitation or remorse.

Some of the council members are surprised that I was able to wear my battle armor so quickly but I explained to them that I never took my battle armor in the first place; it was cloaked underneath my dress uniform during all this time, I explained that I became so used to wearing my battle armor everywhere I go, that I occasionally forgot that I was wearing it, even to social functions but this habitual wearing saved my life more times than I could count so I never stopped and I also explained where my weapons came from, that I am and still wearing a miniature transport buffer at the back of my belt which carries a virtual arsenal of weapons both energy and projectile based as well as a large survival kit that can sustain 3 people in an emergency, but never used it except for the medical supplies.

I match words with action as I materialize weapon after weapon until I finally materialize up to 38 different kinds of weapons: not counting the two SOCOM pistols, with silencers, two force lances and my matched pair of ser'vec'nar swords, I had a matched pair of .50 blackened Desert Eagles, 1 .375 Magnum revolver, 2 .45 USP with silencers, 2 plasma pistols and 1 hand phaser; 1 10mm silenced MP10, 1 .45 UMP and 1 .45 Thompson SMG; 2 12 gauge auto shotguns and 1 assault plasma shotgun; 1 M4 assault rifle with integral scope, silencer and 40mm grenade launcher plus drum mag, 1 M1 Garand, 1 Mk.1 Compression Rifle, 2 Mk.5 Adv. Compression Rifles, modified to be used in tandem, 1 Tr900 Laser Assault rifle with built in scope and suppressors, 1 TG700 Heavy Assault Rifle with 20mm rocket grenade launcher, 1 M8 assault carbine with 2x power scope, and 1 G36K with silencer and drum mag; 1 M60 LMG with laser scope, 1 BAR (Browning Auto Rifle), 1 30mm MMG with integral recoil suppressors and 3X scope, 1 M82A3 .50 caliber sniper rifle with 14X electronic scope and gyroscopic stabilizers, 1 PSG-1 with 20X electronic scope and directional microphone, 1 Gf900 Gamma-series Minigun with attached 40mm auto grenade launcher, the same one I used recently, 1 Mk.8 10-shot 40mm auto grenade launcher, 1 M29 25mm airburst grenade launcher, 1 Shockwave-class repeating pulse cannon, 1 Thor-class man-portable heavy railgun, 1 Tm750 Plasma grenade launcher with integral mine launcher, 1 Quantum Burst with laser sight/designator, 1 extensively modified TOW anti-tank launcher, 1 4-shot Stinger Mk.8 launcher, 1 FTX90 Flamethrower with adjustable nozzle, 1 remote-controlled missile launcher, nicked named Nikita, with 30 rounds; 40 pounds of C4 plastic explosives plus remote and timed detonators, 14 Claymore smart mines, 20 throwing stars, 2 anodized K-Bar knives, a Japanese katana, a pair of bracer-mounted lightning claws and 10 portable automated sentry turrets, topped of with a man-portable 10-kiloton tactical nuclear bomb.

Boyce couldn't help but whistle in amazement at the firepower at my personal disposal, then his eyes shone with comprehension and understanding that even with this entire arsenal at my disposal, I will never use it against the innocent but use it to protect them for the darkness of life, a shield that has seen and faced the darkness but remains untainted by it; my extensive combat experience, martial arts training plus Kilrathi fighting arts training, and natural fighting abilities have forged me into a weapon capable of utter self-control, a weapon that sleeps until circumstances force it awake, woe to anyone who do, my parents and grandparents had unconsciously imprinted into me a code of honor that I never abandoned and still live by, unbowed by the fear of death, willing to give my life to protect others, someone worth trusting and caring for.

Later that night, Goldie and the others celebrate with us my group's acceptance as part of the Federation, Boyce whispered to me that Chrono-Storm is to be stationed at Chakona but both Councils asked him to tell me to change the name, part of the deal was that we have full autonomy from Star Fleet Command to respond to any emergency, whether local or interstellar, and that the Chakonian government have agreed to foot the bill for a base for us from where we can centralize our operations but built to our specifications in return for full access to our FTL, sublight, shielding, armor and structural technology and construction techniques; right now, chakat scientists and shunktaur engineers are going over the ships and will need some time to fully assimilate our more advanced equipment but given that most of our equipment is specifically designed for combat ops, every part is hard wearing and made to work even if damaged by weapons fire plus our equipment is designed for minimal clutter for less stress on the operators and pilots during actual combat, but it shouldn't take too long for them to pick up the basics of the systems.

In the meantime, while most of the ships remain in drydock, the Academy on Chakona has asked the Marines to help train a new batch of Marines for both Star Fleet and Star Corps while the Navy and Space Forces crews help train a new batch of pilots and starship crews for Star Fleet, Star Corps and Security Forces, the equivalent of the militia here, while most of the other members of every ships' crew are on shore leave except for the security troops and a rotating skeleton crew.

I opted to secretly inspected my troops one day, posing as a medic wearing a medi-visor; it seems that the cadets especially the 'taur ones were expecting the battle hardened Marines to be easier on them but as they found out much to their chagrin, the Marines are much tougher and stricter than the other Academy trainers and are putting them through their paces, way past what they expected, then trouble raised its ugly head.

Everyone was busy observing and training everyone else so it wasn't a surprise if they were caught unawares, besides the Academy was supposed to be a secure place; I spotted a runabout with Academy registry flying by but something didn't feel right so I carefully tracked the runabout which circled the Academy several times before heading to the landing pads, then suddenly it lifted off again, several weapons emplacements deploying at the same time and dropping its holographic façade, revealing a heavily modified FU600-series repulsor gunship, definitely big-time trouble.

Deactivating my medic holo-disguise, I quickly selected my Stinger launcher from my arsenal and took aim, the gunship is beginning make to strafing runs at the cadets but their Marine trainers already had them ducking behind some solid cover and already have weapons drawn but none of them have a SAM launcher, meaning that I'm going to have to take on that monster myself; the viewfinder turns bright red, indicating a solid lock-on, pulling the trigger in rapid succession, I launch all four Stingers, giving the gunship's pilot and crew something to really worry about then ran into a nearby ditch, finding myself alongside a bunch of wolf-, foxtaur, and chakat cadets, all looking scared, confused and disoriented by this sudden attack.

I signal two Marine troops to get to my position and reloaded the Stinger launcher's four tubes and peeked out, I see the enemy gunship only moderately damaged from my initial missile attack a few seconds ago; swearing loudly, I raise my launcher again, locked on and fired, all four Stingers homing on the heat generated by the repulsors, this time all four missiles directly hit the repulsor engines, causing it to crash.

I instantly switch to Confed command channels, shouting into the communications net, "Marines, on my order, open up with everything you got for 30 seconds then cease fire, they get one chance to surrender, if not, no survivors, everyone aboard dies."

"Sir, yes, Sir!"

Instantly, a storm of energy and solid rounds pummel the downed gunship from eight different directions, most of them deflected by the heavy armor but some penetrated due to their armor-piercing nature, then smoke began to leak out the craft, "Cease fire!" I roar out into the net.

Just as instantly, the firestorm stopped, I called out, "You! Inside the gunship! Come out with your hands in the air or we start firing anti-armor missiles, this is your one and only chance to surrender, if you don't, we will execute you and everyone aboard but no-one will claim you, because we're going to turn your bodies to ash and scatter them to the winds! Are you going to surrender or die dishonorably? You got five minutes!"

And with that, I leaned back on the other side of the ditch and waited, one of the cadets, a leopard pattern chakat with silver rosettes, came up to me and asked, "Sir, are you really serious about that threat? It sounds...ah...a little cold."

"Kid, listen and listen well, when it comes to dealing with scum like this, it either must be from a position of strength or you have something that they can't anticipate or neutralize, and when push comes to shove, you do so with everything you have, maximum surprise, maximum violence, no warning, no mercy; civilian may not understand but it is because of them that we do what we do."

Just then two marines carrying anti-armor launchers half-skid half-jump into the ditch with a "Mornin', boss."

"Morning, boys, brought the missile launchers I see." I point out.

"Yeah, well, we know you don't make threats idly, chief," replies the corporal on the right.

"Get set up and prepare to fire on my command."

"Aye, sir!"

Then I turned my attention back to the gunship, "You inside! Do you surrender or do you want to die?"

Several voices answer back, "We surrender, don't shoot!"

"Marines, move in carefully! Any treachery and they die, surrender or not!"

A dozen marines slowly make their way to the gunship, weapons at the ready, at the same time, I contact Andromeda for some fighters to establish a CAP over the Academy; the marines take into custody six humans, all badly battered and bruised from the crash, all are stripped of their weapons and are roughly tossed into the brig, where they will be held for trial.

Only a few months later, will Task Force Chrono-Storm face its first real test...