《Star Jumper》


 Season 1: Episode 1.1 - Encounter at Farpoint

    Stardate: 41155.


    Earth Standard Date: February 26, 2364.


    Location: U.S.S Enterprise-D, Orbiting the Fourth Planet of the Deneb System.


    The senior staff of the Enterprise-D watched in awe as two, unique giant-jellyfish-like alien lifeforms were joyfully reunited. Counselor Troi, the only crew member on the bridge with psionic gifts, sensed the powerful emotions emanating from the creatures and was moved to tears by the experience.


    The U.S.S. Enterprise-D, flagship of the United Federation of Planets'' Starfleet, had been dispatched on its maiden voyage to investigate Farpoint Station. Their investigation revealed that the space station was a living, sentient creature being held captive against its will by the Bandi, a less technologically advanced race trying to gain the Federation''s favor. While a portion of the Enterprise''s crew was embroiled in the mystery of the station, the Captain of the Enterprise and a few select crew members had found themselves subjected to trial by a self-proclaimed omnipotent being calling itself Q. Now, on the Enterprise''s bridge, her captain faced the entity, Q, fearlessly.


    Jean-Luc Picard was a bald, aging man with a British accent despite his French upbringing. "Why do you use life forms for your amusement?" Picard asked, his tone sharp and accusatory. Q readied a clever retort, but Picard continued before he could respond. "We''ve passed your test. Now leave us." Picard''s command brooked no argument.


    Q affected a mocking tone, drawing out the syllables of Picard''s rank. "Temper, temper, mon Cap-e-tan."


    Picard''s response was immediate. "Get off my ship," he ordered.


    Q snapped his fingers, summoning another flash of light. When the spots cleared from Picard''s vision, he saw that Q had not left. Instead, the trickster had summoned someone else onto his bridge. The newcomer was a brown skinned, human man wearing simple denim jeans and a cotton T-shirt. The style and materials comprising his attire marked him as someone Q had plucked from Earth''s past. This wasn''t the first time the mischievous entity had played with time. Earlier he''d placed the Enterprise crew on trial for humanity''s crimes. A trial that appeared to take place in a World War III-style courtroom.


    Picard''s frustration boiled over at the new development. "You can''t just snatch people out of time on a whim!" he snapped, his cultured accent clipping each word. "This is not a game, Q."


    "On the contrary, my dear captain, I assure you it most certainly is a game." Q replied lightly, mischief dancing in his eyes as he gestured to the newcomer. "Consider it an opportunity to show off humanity''s progress."


    Picard''s eyes narrowed, immediately suspicious of Q''s motives. But he chose to take the bait, launching into an impassioned defense of humanity''s growth and achievements over the centuries. "Humanity has come a long way since our primitive beginnings," Picard began, his tone steady despite the anger simmering beneath the surface. "We have made astounding advancements in science and technology. Our medical capabilities have increased exponentially, finding cures for diseases that once decimated populations. We explore space peacefully, with a mission of discovery rather than conquest."


    Picard paused, gathering his thoughts before continuing. "We have established colonies on distant worlds, spreading humankind beyond the confines of our lonely planet. But more importantly, we have built a society focused on unity rather than division. We celebrate our diversity rather than allow it to drive us apart. We work together for the greater good, making sacrifices for the benefit of all."


    Q let out an exaggerated yawn, waving his hand dismissively. "Yes, yes, very inspiring."


    Picard''s jaw tightened, but he pressed on. "The Federation represents the best of what humanity has to offer. It is an alliance of equals, founded on noble principles-"


    "Noble principles!" Q interrupted with a derisive laugh. "You claim equality, yet there is still injustice. You tout noble goals, yet you fall short."


    Picard bristled at the accusation but held his temper in check. "Progress takes time. We have not reached perfection, but the path we are on leads ever forward. With compassion and wisdom, we will continue to grow."


    Q scoffed with a dismissive wave of his hand. "One day, you''ll learn where the path to perfection leads."


    "We''ve made mistakes," Picard acknowledged carefully, "But we''ve learned from the past. We value community and understanding. The future we strive for is one of empathy and hope."


    Q raised a skeptical eyebrow. "Hope and empathy are all well and good, but don''t assume humans of your era are more ''evolved'' than his." He gestured at the man who had said nothing thus far. "Advancement isn''t just technology and science. Perhaps his wisdom exceeds your own. Maybe you lost something vital along the way."


    Picard''s expression turned thoughtful as he considered Q''s words. "It''s possible," he conceded. "We still have much to learn. But the challenges we face now only bring us together. They unite us rather than divide us." Picard spoke with quiet conviction, an unshakeable faith in humanity''s spirit.


    Q regarded the steadfast captain with a glint of amusement. "You have indeed come far. But the journey never ends, Picard. and neither does the trial..."


    The bridge of the Enterprise fell into silence as the being, Q, vanished in his customary flash of light. His parting words seemed to echo in the stillness he left behind. All eyes turned to the newcomer Q had deposited onto their bridge just moments before. He was tall, with tousled, woolly brown hair and wide, astonished eyes that darted around the bridge as if trying to take in everything at once.


    "Umm," he said, raising a hand in an awkward greeting. "I come in peace." He plastered a wide, friendly smile across his face, but when no one immediately responded, he barreled on nervously. "I''m Tyson. Where am I? Or, I guess from whatever that was, maybe the better question is¡­ When am I?" He gestured vaguely toward the spot where Q had disappeared.


    His confusion was understandable considering the circumstances. But Counselor Deanna Troi sensed there was more than simple confusion. Excitement, happiness, and awe overwhelmed any trepidation he felt.


    Lieutenant Commander Data, seated at the ops station to Tyson''s left, responded in his precise, artificial tone, "You are on the bridge of the United Starship Enterprise. The current date, based on Earth''s standard calendar, would be February 26, 2364."


    "Well ain''t that some shit," Tyson muttered under his breath.


    Data''s head tilted in a peculiar gesture, indicating something didn''t compute. "I do not believe I am familiar with that phrase," the android said in his precise, artificial tone. "My linguistic database has translated the nonstandard English, however, I am unable to extrapolate the meaning of the remainder of the phrase in this context. "Some shit appears to refer to, excrement, feces, manure¡­"


    Before Data could continue analyzing Tyson''s idiom, Captain Picard intervened. "Thank you, Data." Captain Picard stepped forward then, drawing Tyson''s attention. "Mr. Tyson, I am Captain Jean-Luc Picard. I realize this must be very confusing for you but rest assured, you are among friends. We will do everything in our power to return you to your proper place and time."


    Tyson bobbed his head agreeably. "Yeah, uh, thank you, Captain. Still trying to wrap my head around the whole ''400 years in the future'' thing." His laugh held a nervous edge to it.


    The captain then focused his attention back on their visitor. "Mr. Tyson, I assure you we will do everything in our power to help you. But it may take some time. In the meantime, we will do what we can to ensure you''re taken care of. For now, I''d like to have one of my crew take you to sickbay to get checked over and make certain Q did nothing to adversely affect you." He glanced at Troi. "Counselor, could you please escort him to sickbay? Lieutenant Worf, please accompany them."


    Counselor Troi approached Tyson with her friendliest smile, the one she reserved for especially traumatized patients. The imposing Klingon inclined his head in acknowledgment. Tyson''s eyes went wide at the sight of the man''s ridged brow, but he quickly collected himself. "Oh wow, yeah okay. Lead the way."


    As Worf escorted Tyson off the bridge, Picard let out a small sigh. Q''s meddling was giving him a headache. But they had a guest to take care of now. And he would be damned if he let Q''s games get in the way of Starfleet''s mission.


    The doors of the turbolift slid shut as Tyson tried and failed to suppress a smirk. As a lifelong nerd, he knew exactly where he was. Sensing his barely contained eagerness, Counselor Troi decided to probe further. "You seem to be handling this transition quite well," she remarked.


    "There''s not much I can do about it," Tyson replied with a shrug. "Being brought here is so far beyond possibility that I can either take what you''ve told me at face value and get a medical checkup along with my trip to the future, or what? Try to fight you? If this really is a starship, you have technology I can''t even fathom. I wouldn''t know where to run, and I doubt I could take this guy in a fight." He punctuated the last sentence by jabbing a thumb at the imposing figure of Worf. Turning his head, he added, "No offense, but I''m guessing you aren''t human?"


    "tlhIngan jIH," rumbled the stoic Klingon officer in response. Tyson had no idea what the large warrior had just said. It dawned on him then that he wouldn''t be able to understand anyone not speaking English. That could prove a major drawback going forward.


    Worf said nothing further. Tyson returned his attention to Counselor Troi as the turbolift doors whispered open. "You''re correct, Tyson," she said helpfully as the trio began striding down the gleaming corridor. "Lieutenant Worf isn''t human. He''s Klingon. The Federation encompasses many member worlds, representing dozens of species. There are hundreds of non-human crew members aboard the Enterprise. After Doctor Crusher has examined you, I''ll provide you with information to help get you caught up with the times."


    Worf strode through the hissing doors. Tyson hurried to keep up, craning his neck this way and that as he took in the sights of Sickbay. The place looked nothing like the hospitals of his time. Gone were the dreary curtains sectioning off each bed. Instead, the biobeds sported sleek duranium surfaces curving gently upward to support reclining patients. As he walked, Tyson''s eyes darted from bed to bed, marveling at the advanced tech. Diagnostic archways curved on the sides of each station, ready to extend and scan patients at a moment''s notice. At the beds'' side sat an array of instrument panels, their displays blinking with readouts. Tyson blinked, processing it all. No more clipboards or IV poles in sight.


    He trailed Worf and Troi past rows of unoccupied biobeds, making for an office nestled in the back. Its transparent windows overlooked sickbay, and as they approached, the door swished open.


    Dr. Crusher looked up from a computer terminal. "Good morning," she said, rising from her seat. Her red hair fell loose around her shoulders, "What have we here?"


    Troi stepped forward. "Doctor Crusher, this is Tyson. He''s a human from the mid-21st century who seems to have been brought to the Enterprise."


    Crusher raised an eyebrow. "I see. Well, in that case, Tyson, welcome to the 24th century." She gestured to an empty biobed along the wall. "Have a seat and we''ll take a look at you."


    Tyson cracked a joke to mask his unease as he sat on the biobed in the Enterprise''s sickbay. "I''m a couple of hundred years behind on my vaccinations."


    Doctor Beverly Crusher gave him a polite smile, her blue eyes crinkling at the corners. "I''ll make sure you''re in good health and get your immunizations up to date." Her voice was warm and reassuring. She motioned for him to take a seat on the diagnostic bed.


    "Don''t worry. There are precedents for dealing with temporally displaced individuals. We have established protocols to follow in these unusual cases." Dr. Crusher continued, her tone professional with an undercurrent of practiced reassurance, "To fully integrate and communicate with the diverse species we encounter, we recommend an implanted universal translator. It''s standard for all Federation citizens and allows for effortless communication with countless races throughout the Federation."


    Tyson''s brow furrowed as he processed this. "How does it work?" he asked, unable to keep the fascination from his voice.


    Dr. Crusher''s smile warmed marginally. "It''s a sophisticated piece of technology, yet remarkably non-intrusive. The device works by translating languages in real-time, directly into your neural pathways. This means you''ll hear and understand alien languages as if they were spoken in your native tongue."


    "And the procedure?" Apprehension tempered Tyson''s growing interest.


    "It''s quite straightforward," Dr. Crusher assured smoothly, picking up a small, sleek injector from a nearby tray. "A simple injection. The device is designed to integrate seamlessly with your body''s neural network. You won''t feel a thing, and there are no side effects. It''s completely harmless."


    Tyson considered the implications. The opportunity to comprehend aliens from countless worlds was compelling, despite his reservations at getting an implant that directly interfaced with his nervous system. But with a resolute nod, he gave his consent. "Alright. Let''s do it."


    Dr. Crusher''s expression betrayed professional satisfaction. She positioned the injector expertly near Tyson''s neck. "On three. One, two¡ª"


    Before Tyson could brace, she administered the injection. He felt only the faintest pressure, and then nothing.


    "There we are, all done," Dr. Crusher announced, replacing the injector. "The universal translator is now part of you. Give it a moment, and it will be as if it''s always been there."


    Tyson touched the injection site, finding only unbroken skin. Marveling at the absence of pain or discomfort, he regarded Dr. Crusher with wonder and gratitude.


    "Thank you, doctor," he said solemnly. "I think this is going to make quite the difference."


    Dr. Crusher''s smile broadened. "Welcome to the wider galaxy, Tyson. I think you''re going to fit in just fine." She picked up a slender, metallic device about the size of a TV remote and waved a small sensor slowly in front of him. "Do you have any family history of diseases, allergies, hospitalizations?" She paused briefly. "Genetic augmentations?"


    Tyson shook his head. "My dad had some heart problems, but that was from smoking. My mom was diabetic. I''m allergic to penicillin and have seasonal allergies. I spent a night in the hospital once for a concussion and herniated disc from a car accident, but no lasting issues."


    He rubbed the back of his neck, feeling the weight of the doctor''s last question. Tyson knew his answer was going to be a problem, but he thought it better to bring it up sooner rather than later. "Genetic augmentation didn''t exist in my time."


    Crusher''s brow furrowed slightly at this. "What year were you born, and where?"


    "1985. New York City."


    "Are you certain no genetic augmentations were being done then?" Crusher asked. "My history is a little rusty."


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    "Pretty sure," Tyson said. "They cloned a sheep when I was a kid. I think they mapped the human genome. Later there was something called CRISPR, but I don''t know what that was. I''m almost positive there were laws against genetically modifying humans."


    He paused, dredging up old memories. "A lot of our food was genetically modified, though. GMO labeling was a big debate a few years back."


    Crusher finished her evaluation and set her instruments aside. "You seem to be in good health. You''ll need a few inoculations, as expected. I''m going to need you to stay here a little longer, though. Some of what you''ve said requires further investigation." She gave him a reassuring pat on the shoulder.


    Counselor Troi piped up, "We''ll arrange guest quarters for you while you wait."


    Dr. Crusher tapped the Starfleet insignia badge on her blue uniform. ¡°Crusher to Captain Picard.¡±


    The captain''s refined voice promptly responded. ¡°Go ahead, Doctor.¡±


    ¡°Could I borrow Commander Data? Some unusual results came from my evaluation of Tyson and he could help me quickly resolve some lingering questions.¡± She spoke crisply, a hint of concern in her tone.


    ¡°Yes, certainly. Commander Data, report to sickbay immediately.¡± Picard''s order was clear.


    Minutes later, the pale android arrived, his yellow eyes scanning the room in that peculiar way of his. ¡°Lieutenant Worf, you are dismissed. Return to your post,¡± he directed the burly Klingon security officer. Worf grunted acknowledgment and exited.


    Data turned to the doctor, cocking his head inquisitively. "What can I do for you, Doctor?"


    Dr. Crusher''s brows furrowed as she regarded Data, ¡°Commander, I need you to review Earth''s major historical events from 1950 through 2020 and formulate a series of questions. There appear to be some inconsistencies in Tyson''s recall of history. I want to rule out any memory issues.¡±


    "Understood." Data strode briskly to the console in the CMO''s office, his slender fingers flying rapidly over the controls. Information flashed across the screen faster than any human could process as the android absorbed the knowledge. In less than sixty seconds, he returned to the biobed where Tyson sat.


    Tyson shifted uneasily as the android, Data, fixed his attention upon him. "I will ask you some questions regarding Earth''s history and current events by your standards if you are amenable," Data stated in his calm, measured way.


    Tyson nodded hesitantly, curiosity and wariness warring in his eyes. "Okay. Go ahead."


    Data''s questioning was concise and methodical. "Who was the President of the United States during the Cuban Missile Crisis?"


    "John F. Kennedy," Tyson replied after a moment''s hesitation. History had never been his strong suit, but he could manage the major events well enough.


    Data showed no reaction to the answer as he continued. "What was the outcome of the Vietnam War?"


    Tyson rubbed the back of his neck uncomfortably. "Pretty sure that was considered a loss during my time. I assume whatever outcome the United States wanted didn¡¯t come to pass."


    The questioning continued for a time. Data''s expression remained neutral as he shifted the focus of his questioning to events during the Cold War. "During the height of the Cold War, what was the primary focus of the competition between the United States and the Soviet Union?"


    Tyson thought for a long moment before answering slowly. "Nuclear proliferation, maybe? The main thing I remember was the space race, with both countries trying to outdo each other in space exploration and achievements. The Soviet Union fell before I really understood politics, and it was too recent to be taught much in history class when I was in school."


    For the first time, Data''s stoic expression changed, there was a flicker of something unreadable in his golden eyes. "Interesting. While the space race was certainly a major component, there was another crucial aspect. A genetics race. Both superpowers were heavily invested in researching and developing advanced genetic technologies."


    Tyson blinked in surprise. ¡°If anything like that occurred, it wasn¡¯t public knowledge. I never read or heard about it.¡±


    Before Data could respond, Dr. Crusher stepped forward, her blue eyes grave as she elaborated. "This pursuit of genetic enhancement ultimately led to the Eugenics Wars, a devastating conflict involving genetically-engineered humans attempting to seize control of Earth''s governments. It started in Asia and spread across the entirety of the continent, reaching Europe. It would¡¯ve occurred during your late childhood, into your teenage years."


    Tyson shook his head firmly, brow furrowing. "The Eugenics Wars? I''m certain that didn''t occur when I was a kid. Operation Desert Storm happened when I was little, then the Afghan and Iraq Wars started when I was a teenager."


    Data and Dr. Crusher exchanged glances, now certain. Data spoke up, "It appears that there was a point of divergence between the Earth from which you originated, and our own, lying somewhere during the Cold War, leading to vastly different outcomes in our respective histories."


    Tyson''s expression shifted to a mix of concern and fascination as the reality of his situation sank in. "So what does this mean for me? I won''t ever be able to return home will I?"


    Data paused, considering the situation carefully before responding in his usual calm, logical manner. "The prospect of returning you to your timeline is, regrettably, highly unlikely. While the United Federation of Planets has made numerous advancements in various fields, dimensional and time travel remain areas in which we have not made significant progress. Incidents such as yours are typically accidental or random occurrences." The android tapped his combadge, contacting the bridge, "Captain Picard, please report to sick bay.¡±


    Dr. Crusher added sympathetically, "It''s true, Tyson. The odds of us being able to send you back to your time and reality are low. We wish there was more we could do."


    Tyson took a deep breath, trying to come to terms with the reality of his situation. "I understand. It''s a lot to take in, but I appreciate your honesty."


    Dr. Crusher offered an encouraging smile, her blue eyes radiating compassion. "We''ll do everything we can to help you adjust to life here, Tyson. You won''t be alone."


    Tyson''s attention was drawn by Deanna Troi''s gentle voice. In her hands, she held a PADD, a Personal Access Display Device. She extended it toward Tyson. "This PADD can be used for anything from reading reports to personal communication," she explained. "Think of it as your digital companion aboard the Enterprise."


    Tyson looked from Deanna to the device. He took it from her and began navigating the interface, swiping through it with tentative curiosity. Deanna watched him explore. "You''ll find it indispensable," she assured him with a hint of a smile.


    Tyson''s fingers danced over the interface. He found himself engrossed in the historical archives found on the tablet-like device. It held records spanning from the 21st century to the 24th. He glanced up, meeting Counselor Troi''s eyes. "Thank you," he said earnestly. "This will make a world of difference." Counselor Troi nodded understandingly.


    Captain Jean-Luc Picard strode purposefully into sickbay, his commanding presence drawing the attention of all as he made his way toward the biobed where Tyson sat. Counselor Deanna Troi and Dr. Beverly Crusher stood on either side of the bewildered man, while Lt. Commander Data waited patiently nearby.


    "Commander Data, report," Picard said, his tone brooking no delay.


    "Captain," Data began in his composed, mechanically even voice, "We believe our initial assessment was correct, Tyson did indeed originate from Earth''s past. However, it appears he is from an alternate timeline diverging during the Cold War era of the 20th century. Analyzing his answers using standard regression analysis revealed key differences, including no widespread advancement in genetics, no Eugenics Wars, and precursor events to World War III were absent."


    Picard furrowed his brow as he considered the implications of this information. "Why would Q pluck a man not even from our own timeline for this supposed trial he mentioned? Commander, did you find any of this information relevant to that end?"


    "No, sir. The motivations of Q remain unknown at this time," Data replied.


    Picard turned his piercing gaze to Dr. Crusher. "Thoughts, Doctor?"


    Crusher met his eyes steadily. "There are some genetic and immunological markers consistent with exposure to diseases and vaccinations appropriate for the period described, but with slight inconsistencies compared to historical records from that era. Medically, there is no indication Tyson''s story is untrue."


    Picard considered this new information, absently tugging on the bottom of his uniform jacket as he processed the puzzle before them. "Mr. Tyson, we appreciate this is a great deal to take in all at once. But these discrepancies are concerning. They may provide clues as to Q''s intentions in bringing you here."


    Tyson shook his head in disbelief. Internally he believed he understood what was happening, but wanted to maintain appearances, especially considering that Counselor Troi was able to read his feelings. At Tyson''s display of emotion, Picard''s expression darkened. "Q is a highly powerful and vexing entity that we recently encountered. He possesses god-like abilities over time, space, and matter. For reasons beyond our comprehension, he seems to delight in toying with us, whom he considers lesser beings."


    "So this...Q...just snatched me from my ordinary life and dumped me here in the future for fun?" Tyson asked incredulously.


    "Essentially, yes," Picard confirmed.


    Counselor Troi who''d been silent thus far, immediately moved to lay a comforting hand on his shoulder. Her dark eyes were soft with empathy. "Tyson, believe me, we understand how devastating this is for you. And we want to help in any way we can. For now, let''s take this one step at a time."


    Picard nodded approvingly, "Wise advice, Counselor." He turned his piercing gaze to Tyson. "Mr. Tyson, quarters here aboard the Enterprise have been arranged for you. We''ll continue our investigation and do everything in our power to help you," Picard said resolutely, "In the meantime, we''ll make sure you''re well taken care of and supported as you adjust to life in this timeline."


    Tyson expressed his relief, "Thank you, Captain. I''ll do everything I can to not get in the way of you or your crew."


    Counselor Troi''s dark eyes were warm and compassionate as she offered the newcomer an encouraging smile. "You won''t have to face this alone, Tyson. We''ll be here to support you every step of the way." Troi stepped forward, volunteering, "I can escort Tyson to his quarters and make sure he''s settled in comfortably."


    "Very well," Picard replied in his cultured British accent. "Commander Data and I will return to the bridge. Thank you both for your assistance, Doctor. Counselor."


    Tyson murmured his thanks to Dr. Crusher as he followed Counselor Troi out of sickbay, his eyes taking in the sleek corridors of the starship. His mind churned with unanswered questions about the Cosmic Repository he now found himself connected to as he watched Picard''s straight-backed form retreat down the hall, the android Data close behind.


    Deanna Troi led the way through the bright corridors of the starship, her dark curls bouncing gently as she walked. The empathic counselor had a soothing presence about her that helped put the Tyson slightly more at ease as they made their way to his guest quarters. When they arrived, the doors slid open with a soft hiss to reveal a spacious and well-appointed room. Tyson let his gaze wander over the plush sofa and small table in the living area before settling on the large viewport that offered a breathtaking vista of the stars streaking by outside. Through an open doorway, he could see the bedroom area with its inviting bed and in-suite bathroom.


    Troi turned to him with an encouraging smile. "If you have any questions or concerns, please ask. I know this is a lot to take in."


    Tyson looked around, keeping his expression carefully neutral. Everything he had seen so far was exactly as he expected, straight out of his favorite TV show. But he wasn''t about to reveal that to the empathic counselor.


    Sensing his guarded apprehension, Troi gently prodded. "You can ask me anything, Tyson. I only want to help make this transition easier for you." She gestured to a recessed unit on the wall. "This is a replicator. It can create food, clothes, or other things you might need with just a verbal request."


    Tyson watched in fascination as she demonstrated, her melodic voice requesting a glass of water. The replicator hummed briefly before materializing the drink in its chamber. He nodded as if impressed, but inside his mind raced. This was really happening. He was actually on the Enterprise.


    Tyson took the proffered glass of water, using the opportunity to study Counselor Troi more closely. She was a striking woman, with soulful onyx eyes and thick waves of chestnut hair that cascaded past her shoulders. His gaze lingered on her full lips, their gentle curve inviting trust as they formed a reassuring smile. She wore a non-standard uniform, the soft contours accentuating feminine curves rather than masking them like the standard shipboard attire the other officers wore. As Tyson observed her, he felt a stirring of attraction, but quickly tempered his thoughts. Deanna Troi was half-Betazoid. As such, she was an empath, capable of sensing the emotions of those around her. Tyson struggled to rein in his feelings, clutching the cool glass of water. He would have to be cautious around the counselor and her psionic abilities.


    Nodding as if impressed, he took a sip from the glass. Troi seemed compassionate, but he wondered just how much she already knew about his thoughts and feelings. "Thank you, counselor. The replicator is truly amazing. I''ll be sure to make use of it."


    Tyson decided to probe further into the current state of the United Federation of Planets. He wanted to understand how this world compared to the one he remembered from his memories, but he carefully masked his curiosity with unease at being displaced, so as not to arouse suspicion in the empathic Betazoid. "So, this United Federation of Planets... Can you tell me more about it? Its alliances, the challenges it faces, and its goals? I''m just trying to make sense of everything."


    Counselor Troi nodded, her dark eyes radiating understanding and compassion. As the ship''s counselor, she was accustomed to providing information to help new crew members adjust. "Of course. The Federation is an interstellar alliance composed of various planets and species, working together for the shared goals of exploration, diplomacy, and scientific advancement. While we do face challenges, such as conflicts with other powers like the Cardassian Union, and minor internal disagreements between member worlds, our primary focus is on promoting peace and unity throughout the galaxy."


    After Deanna Troi left Tyson''s quarters, he couldn''t help but feel a pang of disappointment. He had enjoyed her company and calming presence.


    Tyson approached the replicator, "Computer," he said. "Root beer. Cold. The most popular selection, if there are multiple options. Please."


    With a melodic chime, a frosted mug shimmered into being. Tyson lifted it, admiring the frothy foam. The first sip flooded his mouth with the spicy tang of sassafras and vanilla. Not too sweet, not too sharp. The carbonation danced across his tongue. It was better than any mass-produced soda he''d tasted, but lacked the rich depth of true hand-crafted root beer. Tyson nodded, satisfied. If this machine could manage passable root beer, perhaps the food would suffice.


    "Computer, what time is it?" he asked. A synthesized female voice replied that it was 2231 hours. Though the time hardly mattered. The void outside the ship seemed locked in perpetual night. "Night? Day? What''s the difference when there''s no sunrise or set," Tyson huffed under his breath. Still, it was late enough that he should try for some rest.


    Tyson made his way to his bathroom, the doors swishing open to allow him inside. With a weary sigh, he began to strip off his clothes, folding each garment neatly and placing them on a shelf. Stepping into the small bathroom stall, he paused before the control panel, remembering that sonic showers were the norm here rather than water.


    "Let''s see how this goes," he muttered. Taking a breath, he initiated the sonic cleansing sequence. The stall filled with a low hum as ultrasonic vibrations passed over him. It was an odd sensation, almost ticklish, but surprisingly refreshing. A few minutes later, the cycle ended. Tyson stepped out, cleaner but no less fatigued.


    He eyed the worn clothes he''d arrived in critically. Instead of putting them back on, he gathered them up and headed for the replicator.


    "Computer," he said, dumping the bundle inside. "Recycle these and create a new pattern."


    The replicator hummed as it broke down the clothing''s molecules. Tyson watched as the pile vanished, leaving an empty chamber behind.


    "Now recreate the pattern, omitting any non-cotton or non-metal alloy materials," he instructed.


    Moments later, a fresh set of clothes shimmered into existence - crisp, clean duplicates of the shirt and jeans he''d walked in with. No laundromat was required when you had a replicator. Tyson allowed himself a small smile. After changing into the refreshed outfit, he prepared for bed. As he settled onto the thin mattress, he contemplated the strange new world he found himself in. It had been one hell of a first day, that was for sure.


    "Computer," he said into the darkness. "Set an alarm for 0700 hours."


    Tyson settled down to sleep, his eyes sliding shut when an unexpected beep jerked him back to wakefulness. He blinked, momentarily confused, then spotted the PADD sitting on the nightstand where Deanna Troi had left it earlier. Tyson sat up and leaned over to inspect the device, eyebrows drawing together in a frown.


    "That''s odd," he murmured. The PADD shouldn''t be making noises unless someone had sent him a message. But why would they use the PADD instead of contacting him through the ship''s com system? Confused, Tyson picked up the PADD, thumbing it on to check for new messages.


    Tyson''s frown deepened as he read the words materializing on the screen.


    "Tyson,


    You have been chosen for a unique opportunity. Reach into your pocket and grab the key.


    Embrace your destiny,


    - Q"


    His confusion was written on his face as he read the cryptic words now glowing on the screen. He knew there was nothing in his pockets. Tyson arrived on the Enterprise with just the clothes on his back. But he also knew better than to underestimate Q. The god-like being was capricious and dangerous; if he was sending messages, Tyson knew he had little choice but to comply.


    With a resigned sigh, Tyson slid his hand into his pocket. To his shock, his fingers brushed against something smooth and metallic. Grasping the object, he pulled it out to inspect it.


    It was a key.


    Tyson turned it over in his palm, utterly bewildered. What game was Q playing at? He stared at the ornate key, its intricate metalwork seeming out of place in the futuristic setting of the Enterprise. He hadn''t seen a physical keyhole since arriving on the starship, where access was granted through panels beside the doors. Yet here was this anachronistic Victorian-style key, delivered mysteriously in a message from Q.


    Brow furrowed, Tyson stood, pocketing the key. He had to try something; ignoring Q would not be wise. Approaching the access panel by the bathroom door, he presented the key. The panel chirped, and the door slid open. But not to the expected bathroom. Instead, an antechamber lay beyond, leading to a vast warehouse space.


    Stepping through, Tyson found himself in a cavernous room the size of a football field, filled with empty shelving. The stark industrial appearance contrasted sharply with the cozy quarters he''d just left. Behind him, the open doorway led back to his room on the Enterprise. Before him, the only other door glowed softly, as if highlighting it like a quest objective.


    Swallowing down his hesitation, Tyson grasped the handle. Whatever game Q was playing, he had no choice but to play along. With a deep breath, he turned the knob.

 Season 1: Episode 1.2 - Benefactors Lounge

    Stardate: 41155.62


    Earth Standard Date: February 26, 2364.


    Location: Unknown Doorway, U.S.S Enterprise-D, Orbiting the Fourth Planet of the Deneb System.


    Tyson stood in the center of the antechamber revealed by the mysterious key Q had manifested within his pocket. Swallowing down his hesitation, Tyson grasped the handle. Whatever game Q was playing, he had little choice but to play along. With a deep breath, he turned the knob. With a firm tug, the door swung open. Tyson''s eyes widened, shock and disbelief jolting through him at the impossible sight.


    It was a cantina.


    But not just any cantina. It was ''The Cantina'', the iconic establishment from the original Star Wars film, the one located in Mos Eisley on Tatooine. Every detail was perfect. The music, the unmistakable strains of the Cantina Band''s jazz-wailing tunes, it was all there, an exact recreation of a scene that had been seared into the collective consciousness of generations.


    Tyson''s mind reeled, trying to make sense of the scene before him. This was wrong. The events of the original Star Wars trilogy were set in an entirely different universe. A universe that should not have been within his bathroom. And yet, as he stepped across the threshold, Tyson knew that this was no illusion, no trick of the mind. This was real, a tangible slice of a galaxy far, far away that had somehow been connected by Q''s key.


    Tyson scanned the crowd, his eyes darting from one unfamiliar face to the next, searching for some clue, some hint as to why he''d been led here. And then, with a start of recognition, one of the patrons caught Tyson''s attention. The figure was seated in a booth, nursing a drink with a cocky, self-assured smirk on his face. It was Q, the enigmatic and omnipotent being who had been a thorn in the side of the Enterprise crew, and who had been responsible for Tyson''s unexpected journey into this strange new world.


    And he was dressed, in a perfect replica of Han Solo''s iconic outfit, complete with the black vest, white shirt, and red-striped trousers.


    Tyson made his way through the crowded Cantina. Alien patrons of every shape and size turned to regard him with wary eyes, their conversations falling silent as the newcomer passed. As he approached Q, Tyson took in his amused yet anticipatory expression. The omnipotent entity''s voice carried easily over the din of the crowded Cantina.


    "Ah, if it isn''t, Tyson!" Q exclaimed, a knowing glint in his eye. "I was wondering when you''d find your way here."


    Tyson frowned, his gaze flickering between Q and the anachronistic surroundings of the Cantina. "What is this place?" he asked before catching himself. Tyson remembered watching Star Trek and how Picard and the other humans treated Q. The captains were never friendly unless they needed something. Janeway tended to ignore Q at first, while Sisko had straight-up punched him¡­ What a legend. But Tyson wasn''t eager to anger the omnipotent space-god, so he took a more measured approach.


    "Pardon my disorientation, this is all unexpected. May I join you?" Tyson asked politely.


    Q chuckled, clearly amused. "Manners? I was right, there is something you have that Picard is missing." His tone dripped with condescension. "Very well. You may sit."


    Tyson took in the odd assortment of aliens and scoundrels gathered at the bar and tables. However, he knew there was more to this place than just being the famous Tatooine cantina. "If you don''t mind me asking, what is this place?" he asked, turning back to face Q.


    "This is the Benefactor''s Lounge," Q replied, lounging back in the booth and propping his feet up on the table. "It''s a place where we can meet and speak freely, away from Picard or anyone else''s prying ears. I don''t always have the time or inclination to watch you blunder through your adventures, but on occasion, you''ll be able to find me here."


    Tyson furrowed his brow. "Why the cantina setting though? Seems an odd choice."


    Q waved a hand airily. "The lounge adapts itself to your current surroundings. I just added a bit of flair. There''s something nostalgic about this cantina. Maybe it''s because it reminds me of the Continuum."


    Unable to argue that point, Tyson changed tack. "Why am I here?"


    Rolling his eyes, Q leaned forward, steepling his fingers on the table. "I''ll try to dumb this down for your primitive monkey brain. The existence of a Q is beyond your comprehension, but you''ve seen Star Trek. Do you remember how the Continuum appears?"


    Tyson nodded. "An endless dusty road, one path leading off into eternity and back."


    "Close enough," Q conceded.


    Tyson shook his head, his brows drawing together in consternation as he struggled to comprehend the cosmic scope of Q. "You''re right in that I don''t understand¡­ I couldn''t grasp the nature of the continuum," he admitted, his voice barely rising above a whisper. "How you can walk the road that encompasses everything, across all of time, and do it multiple times, doesn''t make sense. Though I think I can envision it in part... But what is my role in all of this?" He met Q''s gaze directly as he posed the question that had plagued him since the beginning of this journey. "Why was I brought here? What is my purpose?"


    At this, Q leaned forward, his eyes flashing with a dangerous mix of impish delight and malevolent hunger. "Your role, dear boy, is to be the catalyst. An unknown and unexpected variable that changes everything." His voice resonated with sinister anticipation. "I have walked this path before, many many times. And if you prove entertaining enough..." His smile turned razor-sharp, "I will watch as you walk it."


    Tyson shuddered at the proclamation, Q''s statement produced an uneasy sense of predestined purpose. "But why me?" he whispered.


    Q''s smile remained fixed upon him, devoid of any real warmth or kindness. "Ah, Tyson," his tone almost pitying. "It is not about your worth. It is about what you were..."


    "What was I?" Tyson asked, his voice barely above a whisper.


    "You were dead," Q answered, his words landing with the finality of a judge''s gavel. Tyson rocked back as if struck, frowning at the blunt response. Q let out a sharp bark of laughter. "Oh don''t get all emotional about it. Everything dies eventually."


    Swallowing hard, Tyson risked interjecting, "Even Q?"


    Q''s eyes narrowed, his gaze boring into Tyson. After a long moment, Q continued as if Tyson hadn''t asked that question. "After you died you were chosen by a benefactor, to embark on a new existence. One where you jumped from world to world, most of them recognizable from the fiction of your time."


    Tyson''s brow furrowed, confusion mingling with dawning understanding. "That doesn''t sound so bad," he ventured cautiously.


    "Not usually," Q agreed, "but you weren''t so fortunate as others who usually end up in that situation. Your benefactor saw fit to send you through the Gauntlet. When you arrived in those worlds, you had to face significant drawbacks to advance, and if you overcame them and thrived, well..." He trailed off with a nonchalant shrug. "When it was time to leave those worlds, usually you''d be able to bring what you collect with you. Increasing your power and setting you up for success in the next world. But because you were jumping through the Gauntlet, you couldn''t bring anything with you. No items of power, no abilities carrying over, and none of the companions you met would come with you."


    At the mention of Companions, Tyson gained a contemplative look. The entity''s eyes glittered knowingly. "Yes, your friends, those you cared about and made connections with, or fell in love with¡­ They were always left behind, never to join you on your eternal quest. Each time your memories were wiped, for you it was like you had just arrived in that world from Earth. No knowledge of what was happening, just the perks and drawbacks you chose without remembering what they were. For you, it was your first time visiting a new world, when in truth, it could have been your tenth world or ten-thousandth, and you were none the wiser."


    Tyson''s shoulders slumped, the weight of this supposed past existence settling heavily upon him. "I can see how that''s somewhat of a sad existence," he admitted quietly.


    "So," Q continued brightly as if discussing the weather, "being the considerate god I am, I opted to give you a reprieve from your lonely existence by temporarily becoming your benefactor."


    Tyson considered the revelations the enigmatic being had just dropped upon him. The bustling cantina faded into the background as Q''s words echoed in his mind. Q leaned back in his seat, a smirk playing across his features as he watched Tyson process the information. Despite the gravity of the situation, Tyson felt a surprising sense of ease settled over him. Q, for all his mischievous ways, had been remarkably forthcoming, shedding light on the mysteries that had plagued Tyson since his arrival.


    "Then I thank you for this opportunity, and for removing me from that cycle," Tyson said, his tone respectful and measured. He had no desire to antagonize the being who held such sway over his fate.


    Q rolled his eyes, a gesture that managed to convey both amusement and exasperation. "You don''t see the difference between having one benefactor or another. I can''t blame you. The difference here is choice and knowledge." With a snap of his fingers, a flash of light illuminated the table between them. As the glow faded, there, resting on the table''s surface, was the PADD he had left behind in his room on the Enterprise. Q continued, his voice taking on a more serious tone, "Usually, you would get to pick how you want to advance in this world, but when you arrived you wouldn''t have remembered what you chose. Now you''ll have a choice, fully aware of what''s happening. And be able to make choices as you go." He gestured towards the PADD, inviting Tyson to examine its contents. As he activated the screen, a wealth of information sprang to life before his eyes. It was a character sheet of sorts.


    Tyson


    Origins: Human, Humanoid, Drop-In


    Character Points: 1700


    Reality Points: 500


    Credits: 0


    Status Effects: (none)


    Drawbacks:


    Gauntlet (Locked)


    Ensign Marty Stu


    A Simple Re''Q''uest


    Perks:


    Cosmic Awareness


    Out of Nowhere


    Going Native


    Live and Let Live


    This is (Not?) Rocket Science


    Kinda Bland


    Determinator


    Painted On


    Tyson focused on his drawbacks first.


    [+0 CP] Ensign Marty Stu (Drawback)


    The entire universe has been transformed into bad fanfiction. You''ll have to deal with poor writing, edgy characters, self-inserts, weird fetishes, and even crazy crossovers like Star Trek v Star Wars!


    [+400 CP] A Simple Re''Q''uest (Drawback)


    It seems that you¡¯ve gotten the attention of a certain omnipotent trickster - Q. Q is going to test you and your ship, over and over again. This can range from putting you into a recreation of the tales of King Arthur to catapulting you into the next galaxy over, as punishment for your hubris. Q may also interfere and grant you additional Drawbacks.


    [+1300] Gauntlet (Drawback)


    Locked


    Tyson looked around the Cantina, taking in the bizarre crowd of alien characters milling about. It seemed the Drawback wasn''t joking; Star Trek v Star Wars crossover indeed. Q added with a shrug, "Your inherited Drawbacks were insisted upon by your original benefactor, and the cost to have them removed or changed would''ve been too high, so you''ll have to live with them."


    Tyson asked, "You mentioned that I would have a choice. How does selecting Drawbacks work, exactly?"


    Q''s lips curled into a wicked smile at the question. "Oh, it''s quite simple, really. You pick a Drawback and I get to have all sorts of fun making it happen to you and whatever merry band of misfits you''ve put together. Sometimes the Drawback will take effect immediately, other times I''ll save it for just the right moment..." Q trailed off, leaving the implied threat hanging in the air between them.


    Tyson suppressed a shudder at the ominous implications. "Or whenever you think it''ll be the most funny or entertaining for you," he commented drily.


    Q shrugged, neither confirming nor denying Tyson''s assessment. But the twinkle of anticipation in his eyes told Tyson he wasn''t wrong.


    Not knowing the details about the Gauntlet drawback was unsettling, but Tyson realized that if the nigh-omnipotent Q couldn''t alter the rules, there certainly wasn''t anything Tyson could do about it either. The value of his Drawbacks added up to 1700 CP, which was displayed higher on his sheet as Character Points, which made sense.


    Tyson turned his attention to his Perks, hoping they might provide some counterbalance to the Drawbacks he had been saddled with. If the Drawbacks represented the daunting challenges and trials he would face in this strange new reality, then surely the Perks must represent the skills, powers, and abilities he had gained that could help him overcome those challenges.


    His musings were interrupted when Q, spoke up once more. "Your Origin grants you starting Perks, and discounts on others," he explained. "Going forward, you may be able to choose additional origins, but in this case, some were locked because of how you arrived here." Tyson nodded, following along so far. "Drop-In was selected as your origin because, well, I dropped you onto the bridge of the Enterprise," Q continued with an amused glint in his eye. "And Human and Humanoid are obvious choices given your nature."


    If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.


    Returning his focus to the document in front of him, Tyson considered his Perks.


    [Free (Origin)] Cosmic Awareness (Perk)


    You have the incredible supernatural ability to perceive alterations in Space-Time. You''ll be able to instantly know when your surroundings have been altered. This ability allows you to perceive changes made by events, objects, people, and creatures.


    [Free (Origin)] Out Of Nowhere (Perk)


    People seem to be far more accepting of what you claim to be. You¡¯re an omnipotent god here to test humanity? Eh, we got five of those last week. Last member of a dying race? We have a protocol for that. This is your springboard into getting into a setting. What comes next depends on you. This perk applies to any Companions that join you as well.


    [Free (Origin)] Going Native (Perk)


    The universe is full of weird places, people, and cultures. Now when you pass through you won''t stick out like a sore thumb or as much as an outsider. You are able to rapidly learn alien customs, cultures, and ideals and apply them faster than even a child growing up in those places. You¡¯ll also be able to learn alien sciences just as quickly.


    [Free] Live and Let Live (Perk)


    People tend to judge one another by standards of what''s common in their society, and that goes double for anything involving relationships. Yet in your particular case this just doesn''t seem to apply. At worst, people will dislike it and possibly refuse to interact with you, but turning to violence or other means of stopping you just never enters their minds. Somehow, people just don¡¯t judge you any differently, no matter what you look like. You could have a completely different number of arms and legs one day, change your coloration completely the next, maybe gain or lose some gender characteristics, and yet people know it''s you and treat you as if you looked like anyone else.


    [Free] This is (Not?) Rocket Science (Perk)


    For some reason, you just are capable of piloting spaceships as if you learned it growing up. It is hardly different from driving Poppa¡¯s old tractor. Similarly, you will find that fixing a spaceship also is much less complicated than one would have thought and you have a good shot at leaving things less broken than when you started.


    [Free (Origin)] Kinda Bland (Perk)


    Sure, your species has its fair share of exceptional personalities, but overall? You kind of blend into the background compared to all the exciting aliens, locations, and technical wonders. At any time, so long you aren¡¯t in a place you definitely shouldn''t be, you can now choose to unobtrusively blend into the background, allowing only the most perceptive of people to actively take note of you.


    [Free (Origin)] Determinator (Perk)


    Through a combination of toughness, endurance, luck, and stubbornness, you tend to succeed more easily in situations few would expect you to.


    [Free (Origin)] Painted On (Perk)


    Clothing just seems to fit so much better when you wear it. You can decide how tight the fit of your clothing is, as well as reduce the thickness or thinness of the fabric. This doesn¡¯t change the clothing¡¯s other features, like what kind of functions or protection it provides.


    Tyson''s eyes scanned over the list of abilities he had acquired by default. At first glance, there seemed to be quite a lot, but upon closer inspection, he thought that there were only a few that would truly aid him. The ability to fade into the background unnoticed, granted by Kinda Bland, would likely prove invaluable. His newfound talent for piloting all manner of spacecraft thanks to This is (Not?) Rocket Science could also come in handy. Going Native would allow him to quickly learn alien sciences. Tyson nodded to himself, accepting that while the list was not as deep as he had initially hoped, he certainly wasn''t going to complain about getting anything for free.


    Tyson turned back to Q asking, "I''m following so far. If I want to pick Perks, I just use this interface?" Q smirked devilishly like Tyson was selling his soul, as he nodded. Q''s smile gave Tyson pause. He looked over the sheet again and asked, "What about Reality Points? What are those for?"


    Q nodded approvingly, "The key you used to get here, that''s the key to your own Personal Reality. Put the key in any door, or up against any access panel and the door will lead into that antechamber where you entered. Be aware, that once you open the door, only you can close it, and at baseline, you cannot close the door while within your Personal Reality. Q waved his hand and a new section appeared on Tyson''s character sheet.


    Personal Reality:


    Access Key


    Security System


    Personal Reality (Personal Reality)


    Here¡¯s your very own Personal Reality. No matter where you go, you¡¯ll always be able to access it (unless blocked by a drawback or gauntlet). Before you do anything with it, it starts as a Warehouse, just a place to stick all your stuff. Anything added to the Warehouse or Personal Reality via CP or Reality Point (RP) purchase is guaranteed to work flawlessly with anything and everything else attached to the Personal Reality. Anything added by the use of Perks is likewise guaranteed to seamlessly integrate. Although you can¡¯t just buy a house with Credits and integrate it into your warehouse, there''s an optional RP purchase to integrate such things.


    ACCESS KEY (Personal Reality)


    This is a special key that lets you access your Personal Reality and its contents. When inserted into any lock or access panel, on any door, the door opens to reveal a gateway into your Reality. You are the only person who can use this key, but additional keys can be purchased for Companions. If the key is ever lost or stolen you will find it in your pocket within a few minutes. You cannot close the door as long as you are inside the Personal Reality.


    SECURITY SYSTEM (Personal Reality)


    Anybody coming in and out of your Personal Reality is now checked for any authorization you''ve given them to access it; and should anything about said authorization raise any flags in the system, then you will receive a warning about it. This allows you to define just what sorts of authorization different individuals can have to access your Personal Reality, anything from No Access through Temporary Access and Limited Access to Unlimited Access is possible. All this does is notify you. It does not stop them on its own. A Keyholder¡¯s Access cannot be limited by the Security System. Only purchase Access Keys for those you trust implicitly.


    Tyson mulled over the fact that he had his very own personal reality. The concept was mind-boggling. A space where he could store items or even shape the environment to his desires; he couldn''t help but wonder what possibilities it might hold. After getting past the initial shock of the idea, he looked at Q suspiciously and asked, "This says that a Gauntlet can block access, do I need to worry about that? Or are there any other sections of the character sheet that have been conveniently omitted?"


    Q waved off his concerns with a dismissive flick of his hand. "I used my own power to grant you your Personal Reality, so you don''t need to worry yourself over the gauntlet. Though if you ever move on from my patronage, by leaving this multiverse or by dying, the Personal Reality won''t come with you, and I''m keeping your stuff. But, I''ll admit that I left off Items from your sheet. You don''t have any yet."


    Tyson chuckled at the entity''s cavalier attitude. Though he noted Q''s measured words. "So I just...pick things from this list? Powers, abilities, that sort of thing?" He gestured to the PADD''s interface. "Using my Character Points or Reality Points to buy them?"


    "Precisely," Q replied, his eyes glittered with wicked amusement. "For some, character creation is most of the fun. Feel free to dive in." Across the table, Q watched him with an infuriatingly smug expression, as if he could read Tyson''s very thoughts.


    Tyson refused to be baited. He needed to think this through carefully. Selecting Perks willy-nilly could prove disastrous in the long run. He took a steadying breath and returned his focus to the list on the PADD interface, determined to make his choices count.


    But then he paused and considered Q and how he operated. Q''s wicked smirk hadn''t faded. Tyson knew from the Enterprise crew''s first interaction with Q that the entity had baited them into believing something untrue in an effort to test them. The details were hazy since it had been so long since Tyson watched Star Trek, and those events had occurred directly before Q summoned him to the bridge, so he hadn''t witnessed them firsthand.


    Still, one thing Tyson believed was that Q didn''t do things without reason. Tyson wanted to believe that Q''s games and tests were meant to impart important lessons. He also liked to think he wasn''t as stubborn as Picard had been portrayed. Add to that the overwhelmingly positive interaction he''d had with Q thus far, and Tyson decided on a different approach.


    He looked at Q once more. "Thank you for the explanations and for the help. I see now that your intervention has smoothed the road here for me to succeed." Tyson paused, considering Q''s words during their conversation. "You mentioned you walked this road before. Is there any other guidance you''d be willing to offer?"


    Q''s smile morphed from wicked to somewhat genuine as he looked at Tyson. "I do have some advice. It''s quite valuable. But just giving it away wouldn''t be any fun. So I''ll make you a deal. I''ll give you some advice, but in return, tomorrow I''ll also activate a drawback of my choice. Nothing too malicious, you have my word. Plus you''ll still get the Point boost from it. What do you say?"


    Tyson felt like he was making a deal with the proverbial devil. But as much knowledge as he could have at the start would help him make better decisions going forward. "I accept your terms," he replied.


    Tyson listened intently as Q began imparting his advice. "The first thing you must understand," Q said, "is that Drawbacks will always override Perks. If you accept a Drawback that decrees you shall be poor, yet also select a Perk that promises to bring you wealth, the Drawback shall prevail. Perhaps by way of a thief stealing your fortune or a banking error diverting your funds. Regardless of the method, the Drawback''s effects will come to pass."


    Nodding slowly, Tyson absorbed this critical information. He could see how a careless combination of Perks and Drawbacks might lead to frustration down the line.


    "Additionally, any items purchased with Character Points will regenerate within 24 hours if destroyed, unless specified otherwise in the item''s description," Q continued. "So be sure to read each description thoroughly before making a selection. Do not rely on assumptions."


    Tyson nodded again, etching the warning into his mind. Meticulous attention to detail was clearly required when selecting his Perks and Items.


    Q went on, an earnest glint in his eye. "Now this next point is perhaps the most vital of all, so I shall repeat it to ensure it penetrates your primitive simian brain." Leaning forward, he enunciated clearly, "The only way to gain additional Character Points is through accepting Drawbacks. There are no other options. Drawbacks are the sole way to gather more Character Points."


    Settling back into his chair, Q said, "Furthermore, your Origins are important, even though you may not always have control over which one you receive. When given a choice, remember that Origins provide free Perks and, more importantly, a 50% discount on related Perks and Items. Do not dismiss the Items lightly. They can range from mere trinkets to entire worlds. And since they are purchased with Character Points, they can seamlessly integrate with your Personal Reality."


    His grave tone softening slightly, Q added, "Reality Points are more flexible than Character Points. Completing episodes and providing entertainment may grant you bonus Reality Points. But Character Points should be spent with the utmost care."


    "I understand completely," Tyson replied as he processed Q''s invaluable advice. He realized this journey would require equal parts diligence and discernment.


    Tyson listened attentively as Q lectured him as though he were a student attending a class. "Companions are those whom you are able to convince to join you on your journey," Q explained. "They must consent fully to becoming your Companion. Even if you possess an ability that would allow you to control their minds, they cannot be coerced into this role. Companions do not necessarily have an exact cost, some may be free, others expensive. But there may be opportunities to pay a CP price for a Companion, and in return, they will receive a stipend of Character Points which you can then utilize to purchase them Perks or Items."


    Q paused, holding up a finger. "But be aware, you are limited to only eight companions."


    "Thank you, those are all very useful tips. I will certainly keep them in mind when I make my selections," Tyson replied gratefully. He smiled brightly. "I look forward to the challenge the incoming Drawback will pose!"


    "Oh my, polite and bold," Q mused. "Quite the intriguing combination." He smiled kindly at Tyson. "I''ll impart one last piece of advice before I take my leave...Companions may seem unnecessary in a place like the Enterprise, where the crew is always working cooperatively toward common goals or under direct orders. You will not always be on the Enterprise." Tyson frowned slightly at Q''s blunt portent. Q''s face became grave, his tone cautionary. "So do not dismiss the value of forging bonds with others. Consider the greatest figures throughout history¡­ did they accomplish their monumental goals alone? Thanos had his Black Order, and Obito the Akatsuki!"


    Tyson stared at Q, keeping his face carefully neutral as he took in those particular, terrible examples. But Q continued on, either ignoring or oblivious to Tyson''s reaction.


    "And if you prove clever and man enough, there may be a way around the limit of eight companions..." Q trailed off mysteriously. With a snap of Q''s fingers, Tyson abruptly found himself back in his quarters on the Enterprise.


    Tyson reached into his pocket, wanting to be sure that what he just experienced, really happened. Feeling the cool metal of the Access Key, he went back to the panel next to the bathroom door and opened the way to his Personal Reality. The door opened to reveal the antechamber and the large, empty warehouse beyond. Though he noted that the door to the Benefactor''s Lounge had disappeared.


    It was late, but Tyson abandoned his initial idea of sleep. Q''s revelations had his mind moving in overdrive, there was no way he''d be able to sleep now. Instead, Tyson grabbed the PADD, lounged on the couch in his room, and began browsing the Perk options. Q had given good advice, but his last comment had drawn Tyson''s attention.


    "And if you prove clever and man enough, there may be a way around the limit of eight companions..."


    Tyson had no companions at the moment, so bypassing the limit was not an immediate priority. But the prospect of discovering a potential loophole for future use intrigued him. He scrolled through page after page of Perks, scrutinizing each one carefully, searching for any hint of what Q had alluded to. Hundreds of options flashed before Tyson''s eyes, as he read through every description in detail. But not a single Perk seemed to match Q''s vague description.


    Finally conceding defeat in the Perks section, Tyson leaned back on the couch with a sigh. He rubbed his eyes, exhaustion creeping in after the long session of intense reading. But sleep still felt out of reach with his mind spinning from the revelations of the night.


    Deciding on a change of focus, Tyson navigated to the Personal Reality section of the PADD. He wasn''t even sure what he was looking for at this point. But the distracting activity of browsing aimlessly felt preferable to dwelling on unanswered questions. As Tyson''s eyes glazed over the various Personal Reality options, one entry in particular caught his attention. He sat up on the couch as he read through the details, his earlier fatigue forgotten.


    [300 RP] My Harem (Personal Reality)


    This option allows you to combine any or all of your lovers and spouses into one or more companion slots, although once you¡¯ve added a companion to a block there is no going back and separating them once again. Fortunately for you, this doesn¡¯t mean you can¡¯t keep adding additional people to a slot, in case your harem continues to grow. Additionally, you may combine your various children into companion blocks as well. This means that companions within the same block get imported as a group while taking only one companion slot. It does not mean they get combined into one individual in any way. Requires: Seraglio-A-Gogo.


    Acquiring the Perk and its prerequisite would cost him every last one of his 500 Reality Points. He had no lovers to speak of, no children, and not a single Companion to his name. The cap on his Companions was still far off. It would not be wise to unnecessarily blow through his entire stash of RP so soon.


    His thoughts turned to Q''s "advice," which amounted to little more than transparent encouragement to assemble a harem. Tyson grimaced, trying to analyze the suggestion logically from a power gamer''s perspective, but he could not shake the feeling that Q was simply a pervert at heart. Tyson recalled the list of available perks, one made him scowl in disapproval.


    [600 CP] Divine Voyeur (Perk)


    The Q watches all and sees all. Whenever you have sex with others, or whenever you take ¡®adult actions¡¯, Q will be watching and will award you ¡°points¡± for your performance. The points will enhance your combat stats and skills for a limited duration, with the timeframe and level of enhancement depending on how many points are given. With the lowest rank giving you a minor boost for maybe 10 minutes. Part of the score is determined by your sexual prowess, but it¡¯s also based on Q¡¯s appreciation for putting on a show. The less private the affair is, and the more people that witness your actions, the higher your score, such that making out in a crowd would garner more of Q¡¯s approval. A ¡°perfect¡± score of 10 would make you the equivalent of a mighty hero for 24 hours, but there¡¯s no limit to the number of points and equivalent boons you can earn, assuming you have enough stamina and passion for the job. The perk also lets you visually see any sexual acts within a 100-meter radius (and since Q is watching what you watch, you¡¯ll also score performance points for sexual activities and sexy battles you view.)


    Shaking his head, Tyson rejected the perk out of hand. It was clearly a ridiculous notion and an obvious trap. He would essentially be spending his points just to satisfy Q''s voyeuristic whims. And why was it so expensive for such a minor buff? Tyson compared Divine Voyeur to another 600 CP Perk and the difference was clear.


    [600 CP] Treknobabble (Perk)


    Probably the greatest tool of the Federation¡­ Pulling bullshit out of their ass. Is your ship exploding? Reverse the shield to contain the blast. If you have tech, you¡¯re virtually invincible. Just remember, you¡¯re not COMPLETELY invincible. Try to keep your hands off Omega Molecules.


    Tyson sighed. A temporary boost was worth the same as virtual invincibility through making stuff up with technology. Sex sells, I guess.


    Tyson finally set his PADD down on the table beside him, the screen going dark as he let it slip from his fingers. He leaned back into the couch, letting his head fall back to stare up at the ceiling of his quarters. After hours of perusing the seemingly endless catalog of perks and abilities offered to him, he still hadn''t settled on which ones to select first. It was a difficult decision, choosing those initial few perks that would set the course for his future growth and capabilities. He had browsed the entire list, considering each one carefully, weighing the potential benefits against the required point expenditure. A few had stood out as obvious early choices.


    With a sigh, Tyson hauled himself to his feet. He would sleep on it, give his mind time to churn over the options, and hopefully gain some clarity.

 Season 1: Episode 1.3 - Enterprise Tour

    Episode 1.3 - Enterprise Tour


    Disclaimer: If you recognize it, I don''t own it.


    Stardate: 41156.5


    Earth Standard Date: February 27, 2364


    Location: U.S.S Enterprise-D, Orbiting the Fourth Planet of the Deneb System.


    Tyson shuffled his bare feet across the carpeted floor of his guest quarters aboard the Enterprise, the soft fibers pleasantly massaging his soles. After a night''s sleep in the cozy Starfleet-issued bed, he felt refreshed and ready to start his day in the 24th century. Stopping at the replicator, he recycled the sweatpants he had slept in and ordered a fresh pair of jeans and a toothbrush. The requested items shimmered into existence, and he quickly swapped the sweatpants for the jeans before making his way toward the small bathroom. After rinsing his mouth, and recycling the toothbrush, he exited the bathroom and headed to his PADD.


    Tyson had spent the prior night in contemplation, carefully weighing his inaugural Perk selections. Though his choices had been made before sleep took him, he purposefully avoided finalizing his decision, preferring to let his subconscious ruminate through the night. Upon waking, he found his opinion unchanged and moved to solidify his first pick.


    [+50 cp] Hybrid (Drawback)


    Make an additional roll for species and combine the result with your base race. In addition to having a hybridized appearance, you will also gain all the negative traits of your second rolled species.


    Tyson''s first selection was a Drawback. One not worth many points, but it posed little downside. The Perk would render him a hybrid between human and another species, accepting the new race''s strengths, as well as their weaknesses. A fair trade, by Tyson''s measure.


    He tapped the selection and braced himself, expecting some outward sign of transformation. But nothing came. No tingle of bones forming on his forehead, nothing. Q had evidently postponed the reveal, content to spring this surprise when the timing suited his dramatics. Tyson shrugged. Nothing to do about it now.


    Tyson moved on. The options branched into sections, but atop them all sat the chance to choose a two new Origins. Tyson opted to only choose one, since it stood out, he''d save the other for a later date. This one centered around a profession. Tyson''s gaze roved over the selections...


    Explorer


    Space Marine


    Hotshot


    Scientist


    Space Pirate


    Space Princess


    Service Sector


    His eyes fell upon the Space Pirate offering. The description elicited a grimace.


    Space Pirate


    Whatever you want, you take it by force. Property, people, lives? Doesn¡¯t matter. Many Space Pirates dabble in slavery, and you¡¯ll somehow run a crew of the worst scum the galaxy has ever seen.


    Though the phrasing of the Space Pirate Origin left a bitter taste in Tyson''s mouth, Q''s counsel to thoroughly examine the Freebies and discounts afforded by each option led to his choice. Tyson had combed through all the offerings with meticulous care, searching for the best advantage for his journey. None offered bonuses and discounts were as valuable as Space Pirate, so Tyson selected it, anticipating his new acquisitions.


    [Free (Discounted)] Snakeskin (Perk)


    Why do you even bother with armor when the other guy has a disintegrator? It¡¯s better just to sidestep the blast, so that¡¯s what you do. The less your clothing is covering you up, the better you dodge and the faster you are. Wearing something as revealing as a space-fabric loincloth or latex bikini will give you enough of a speed and agility boost to rush and overwhelm a handful of opponents with blasters.


    [Free (Discounted)] Spacesuit (Item)


    A skintight space suit. Unequipped, it consists of a helmet and belt; donning these and hitting a button on the belt extends the suit''s ''skin'' over your body in a uniform color of your choice, including silver or clear. The helmet has a very basic set of environmental and biometric sensors and a radio, and the belt houses the power unit, an emergency distress beacon, and some utility pouches. The suit itself is only as tough as regular fabric, though the same technology that produces the skin will patch it up automatically. As long as the suit is operating properly, it can recycle your air and water until the power runs out, and the power cell is good for ten years. Food is not included, however.


    [Free (Discounted)] Laser Blade (Item)


    A weapon with a metal handle and a blade made of pure energized photons. It¡¯ll cut through most normal materials easily but might struggle with energized armor or force fields. If you had fast enough reflexes or some kind of precognition, you could even deflect other lasers and energy-based weapons.


    [Free (Discounted)] Tramp Freighter (Starship)


    Sometimes used as a light troop carrier, the Tramp Freighter is a cozy starship for the Do-It-Yourself crowd. Favored by smugglers and honest traders alike, it¡¯s got lots of nooks and crannies throughout the ship. The cargo bays can be converted to bunks in troop carrier configuration allowing it to hold 40 passengers. Comes equipped with standard life support, sub-light engines, an FTL drive, sensors, shields, and at least one defensive weapon like a laser cannon or a missile pod. Unless noted, the ship comfortably holds a dozen crew/passengers.


    Tyson couldn''t resist the allure of the Space Pirate Origin. It offered far too many enticing freebies to pass up. The first was a Perk that granted him preternatural dodging abilities with enough agility to evade even energy-based weapons like lasers. The catch was that the Perk scaled in effectiveness based on what he wore; the more revealing his clothing, the better he could dodge. Heavy armor was off the table for the foreseeable future.


    The rest of the free gear consisted of useful items. A high-tech space suit that extended and retracted from a slim helmet and belt. If Tyson ever got blown out into the cold void of space, the suit would preserve his life. An integrated air recycler meant he could breathe easily in toxic atmospheres too. The real treasure, though, was the laser blade, aka a lightsaber. Tyson had to admit that the allure of his very own lightsaber played no small part in choosing the Space Pirate origin. Lastly, he acquired a ship. It didn''t seem like much by the sparse description, but any vessel beat no vessel.


    Tyson wasn''t finished. That was only the free items he acquired. He picked out four 100 CP Perks that he wanted to start with. Some of them were discounted from 200 CP thanks to his Origins.


    [-100 CP (Discounted)] Adaptable (Perk)


    You are able to easily fill any role or perform in any profession, with a minimum of leading time required to be taught. Up to an average level of proficiency, your learning progress will be greatly accelerated.


    [-100 CP (Discounted)] Duellist (Perk)


    After countless boarding actions, your skill with the laser blade is seldom matched except among the best of Star Knights. Even without space magic, you have a pretty good chance of deflecting energy bolts with your blade or anticipating the next lunge. So fine is your control of the blade, laser or otherwise, that you may shred your opponents¡¯ clothing with ease rather than their flesh, allowing you to rob your opponents of their dignity as well as their riches.


    [-100 CP] Master with your Hands (Perk)


    You are a master with a weapon in your hand. You gain the ability to be unbelievably accurate with any weapon, melee or ranged, that you can use with one hand. And if one weapon doesn¡¯t work, you can smoothly transition to any other one-handed weapon in your possession, and in the act of drawing the new weapon, use it as smoothly as if you always had it out. As a bonus, the faster you make an attack, the more accurate it is, even if you have no time to aim it. Draw, shoot, hit. Lastly, you could even pull off the ol¡¯ dual-wielding trick, with whatever one-handed weapons you have on you. You¡¯re smooth enough that you will never run into any issues with holding two different, or similar weapons in each hand.


    [-100 CP] Best Of The Best (Perk)


    They say there¡¯s nothing like a night with a Marine, and who am I to refute that? You¡¯ve got a significant boost to your reflexes, hand-eye coordination, and general athleticism, all of which are visible in the form of well-defined muscles and the chiseled build of a Greek god.


    Tyson knew that picking up the Adaptable Perk would prove invaluable. With zero grasp of the advanced technology of the future Star Trek world ahead of him, the Perk''s boon would facilitate rapidly attaining the baseline proficiency required to comprehend the innovative devices of the era. Selecting the Duelist and Master with your Hands Perks would enable Tyson to adeptly wield the Laser Blade and any other one-handed weapons acquired in his travels. Lightsabers posed grave threats not just to those facing their sizzling blades, but also to those that wielded them. The Perks would hopefully prevent Tyson from inadvertently relieving himself of a limb... Lastly, the Best of the Best Perk would gift Tyson markedly augmented reflexes, coordination, and an impressive physique. Though admittedly a vain choice, Tyson rationalized that if his Snakeskin Perk insisted on eschewing armor and clothing for evasiveness, then he could at least flaunt his chiseled new body while doing so.


    Character Points: 1300


    Tyson approached the access panel next to the bathroom door and used his Access Key to open the way to his Personal Reality. The door slid open granting entry to the cavernous warehouse space. It was still somewhat disorienting how the interior space vastly exceeded what should have been possible within what would''ve been the bathroom of his quarters.


    At the center of the entrance stood a plain metal table, its surface hosting the trio of items he had selected. The helmet and belt of the Spacesuit and the Laser Blade awaited his inspection.


    The helmet resembled a sleek motorcycle design with aerodynamic contours formed from a lightweight alloy. Tyson lifted it, surprised by the minimal heft as his fingers traced the glossy obsidian finish. Peering through the tinted visor, he marveled at the array of minute sensors and electronics embedded within the inner lining. Next, he turned his attention to the belt, a broad swathe of gunmetal gray material segmented into distinct sections.


    But the true centerpiece, and the item that had convinced him into this path, was the laser blade. Reverently, he grasped the hilt, the contoured grip molding seamlessly to his palm. A muted glow emanated from a series of minute vents encircling the emitter shroud, hinting at the energy contained within. Tyson''s index finger found the activation stud, and with a deft press, the blade roared to life.


    A hissing snap-hiss reverberated through the warehouse as a rod of coherent laser plasma seared into existence. The brilliant azure beam hummed with the familiar, iconic thrum; it was the sound of Tyson''s childhood fantasies.


    Tyson clipped on the belt, then hung the helmet from one side and the laser blade from the other. The weight felt right, and the items were perfectly balanced. He let his fingertips brush over the hilt of the blade, feeling the intricate patterns etched into the metal.


    Then Tyson realized, his Tramp Freighter, wasn''t in the warehouse. A spaceship should have stood out in the large empty room. Was the ship too big? Had it appeared in space, next to the Enterprise? Tyson couldn''t even ask Q, as the door to the Benefactor''s Lounge had not reappeared. With great reluctance, he pulled his attention away from his new items and exited the Personal Reality.


    Closing the door, and reopening it, revealed his bathroom now once again situated on the other side of the door. Tyson walked over to the mirror and inspected his new appearance, granted by the Best of the Best Perk. His reflection revealed a striking transformation.


    Gone was the lanky frame he had carried since adolescence. In their place stood a figure of awe-inspiring physicality, as if sculpted from granite by a master artisan. Tyson''s shoulders had broadened, his trapezius and deltoids straining against the fabric of his shirt. Thick cords of muscle rippled along his arms, the sinews defined beneath his taut skin. Veins weaved beneath the surface of his skin as he clenched his fists. Tyson''s pectorals strained against the cotton, two slabs of dense muscle that sat above a ridged abdominal wall. His gaze drifted lower, taking in his tree trunk thighs. His quadriceps tensed with each subtle shift of his stance. Even his calves had been overhauled, the diamond-shaped muscles sharply pronounced.


    Tyson ran his fingers along the sharp line of his jaw, newly squared and framed by high cheekbones. Stubble shadowed his chiseled features, giving him a rugged, roguish appeal. His hair, once a nondescript brown, was now interspersed with bits of burnished copper, tumbled in tousled waves that framed his face.


    The Best of the Best had remade him into a figure of power and charisma. Tyson could easily envision himself striding from the crashing waves of a Polynesian island, a living demigod descended from the pantheon. Or perhaps a warrior prince from the pages of ancient myth born to conquer and rule.


    Tyson''s lips curved into a slow, predatory smile as he drank in his new visage. Vanity Perk or not¡­ Looking at himself in the mirror, he knew it was a worthwhile choice.


    The door chime rang, its electronic trill summoning his attention. Tyson took one last look at himself in amazement before leaving the bathroom. "Come on in," he called.


    The doors swished open, and the ship''s counselor Deanna Troi entered, her voluptuous figure clad in a form-fitting, violet jumpsuit uniform. Lustrous black curls were piled atop her head in an intricate style and pinned in place by a glittering tiara-like hairclip. Dark, soulful eyes regarded Tyson warmly as she approached. She glanced Tyson over, noticing his new belt, and attached items, and examined his enhanced physique, but she did not comment on them. Tyson likely had the Live and Let Live Perk to thank for that.


    "Good morning, Tyson," she said, full lips curving into a smile. "How are your accommodations?"


    "Best vacation I''ve been on in a while," Tyson replied, returning her smile. "All I need is a beach and a few drinks, and I''m set."


    Deanna''s smile widened. "I''d like to take you on a tour of the ship. We could start in the replimat for breakfast. Then on to engineering, the shuttle bay, visit a holodeck, and maybe find that beach, and anywhere else you want to see.


    Tyson said sincerely. "Breakfast and a tour would be lovely."


    Deanna''s dark eyes sparkled. "Wonderful. Shall we?"


    She gestured toward the door, and Tyson moved to join her, eager to explore more of this astonishing vessel he now found himself aboard. Tyson followed Deanna out of his quarters and into the sleek corridor, the doors swishing closed behind them. She moved with easy grace, hips swaying, dark curls bouncing against her back as she led the way. Tyson''s gaze lingered perhaps a beat too long before he hurried to catch up. Deanna paused at one of the informational wall screens lining the hall. With a few quick taps, she pulled up a detailed schematic of the massive starship. Tyson''s eyes widened as he took in the scope of the vessel. Deanna highlighted the route to the nearest replimat, then showed Tyson how to access crew member locations and other navigation tools. He nodded along, doing his best to memorize the ship''s layout.


    The turbolift doors hissed open and Deanna stepped inside, Tyson on her heels. "Deck nine," she instructed the computer in her melodic voice. The lift hummed to life, accelerating them through the bowels of the ship with barely a tremor.


    When the doors reopened, appetizing scents wafted into the corridor: roasted coffee, sizzling meats, and alien spices Tyson couldn''t identify. His stomach rumbled loudly and Deanna laughed, a rich peal-like chime. "This way," she said, leading him toward the tantalizing aromas.


    They entered a wide chamber buzzing with activity as crew members grabbed meals before shifts. "One of the perks of living in the future," she said, selecting an omelet. "Food from hundreds of worlds, anytime you like."


    Tyson eagerly took in the sights and sounds, marveling at the diversity around him.


    Tyson was surprised at the size of the replimat upon entering. It was much larger than he expected, with a design similar to a mall food court. Tables of varying sizes from small 2-person seating to large cafeteria-style dominated the area. The walls were lined with replicators, identical to the one in his quarters. Opposite the entrance were several recessed rooms with larger replicators for creating items that wouldn¡¯t fit in the standard model. These larger replicators were staffed with crewmen to assist in large orders.


    Deanna led Tyson toward an open table near the center of the replimat. Tyson followed he took in the sights and sounds around him as they walked. Crew members chatted and laughed over meals, some in uniform and others in casual attire. The murmur of various alien languages mixed but were processed by his universal translator.


    Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions.


    Once seated, Deanna gestured to the wall replicators. "Order whatever you''d like," she encouraged.


    "Is there anything I can bring back for you?" he asked.


    Deanna faced him with a gracious smile, "A vegetable omelet and orange juice would be lovely."


    Tyson nodded. "I''ll return in a moment then."


    He made his way to the nearest unoccupied replicator and placed his order. "Orange juice, cold, tall glass. One vegetable omelet. Three pancakes, three eggs scrambled, five slices of bacon medium crispy, coffee light and medium hot, and some maple syrup on the side. Please."


    The requested meal shimmered into existence atop a tray within the unit, its appearance and aroma conjuring memories of the last big breakfast Tyson had enjoyed before arriving in the 24th century. Tray in hand, he returned to the table Deanna had selected and set the orange juice before her as he took the seat opposite.


    "I''d like to get to know you, but first I have to ask. What''s with the outfit?" He gestured vaguely at her dress. "Most of the crew I''ve come across all wear a standard uniform. Both times I''ve seen you, you''ve been wearing something different."


    Deanna''s dark eyes crinkled with amusement. "As long as there isn''t a diplomatic mission or admiralty on board, Captain Picard isn''t strict about the dress code," she explained. "So long as it''s an approved uniform style, that is. There are several options we can choose from. Single suits, separated pants, and skirts. Lots of variety. Some enjoy following trends, and others like myself just like to change it up. When we''re off-duty, the dress code isn''t enforced, though many crew members stay in uniform."


    Tyson rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "And here I am, dressed three centuries out of date. I''ll have to take some time at the replicator later and spin up something different. Maybe some black slacks so I don''t look quite as out of place." He paused, considering. "Or I could look up current Earth trends. I suppose there are a lot more trends to pick from now, with how many planets there are in the Federation." He met Deanna''s dark, intelligent eyes. "What planet are you from? Or do people not identify with their planet of origin anymore? I''m lost when it comes to appropriate cultural questions or taboos these days."


    "There are a few members of the crew who come from cultures that may be a little more sensitive to questions," she replied, "like Worf, the man who escorted you to sickbay. But in most cases, as long as you remain respectful in your approach, it shouldn''t raise any issues." She took a sip of orange juice before continuing. "As for me, I was born on the planet Betazed. My father was human, but my mother is native to the planet. It''s a lush, beautiful world, not dissimilar to Earth in many respects."


    Tyson found himself enraptured by Counselor Troi as they continued their conversation over breakfast. Beyond her obvious beauty, her Betazoid empathic abilities allowed her to steer the flow of their talk with ease. Tyson had never been one to carry a conversation before, but with Troi, the words came effortlessly.


    Their talk soon turned to Troi''s counseling work and duties aboard the Enterprise. Tyson swallowed a syrup-drenched bite of pancake and said, "This is still so new and different to me, I''m trying to wrap my head around it all. What about duty shifts and schedules here on the Enterprise?"


    Counselor Troi set down her fork, having finished the last of her omelet. She took a final sip of orange juice from her glass before speaking. "Commander Riker is responsible for overseeing the coordination of scheduling personnel across all the various departments on the ship." She explained the intricacies of duty rotations on the Galaxy-class starship. With Troi steering the conversation so adeptly, Tyson quickly finished his breakfast.


    The meal confirmed something that had only been hinted at in the television series. Replicated food was rather subpar in taste. Last night the root beer had seemed perfectly acceptable, even good. And the pancakes this morning were likewise tasty. But something was a bit off with the eggs and bacon. It was hard to pinpoint exactly why, but they didn''t taste quite natural or authentic. Not bad per se, but with something slightly off about their quality.


    The pair left the replimat after recycling their utensils.


    ¡°Was there anything on the ship you were interested in seeing first?¡± Troi asked


    Tyson led Counselor Troi through the corridors of the Enterprise. Though the ship''s aesthetic was familiar, everything seemed new when seen through his own eyes versus watching the show. Accessing one of the wall''s interactive screens with a few quick gestures, he plotted their route to the nearest turbolift. The doors swished open and they stepped inside the small space.


    "Deck fourteen," Tyson stated clearly. With a gentle hum, the turbolift began its swift descent through the ship. Troi stood serenely beside him, her empathic senses no doubt picking up on the undercurrent of curiosity flowing through him.


    Tyson strode eagerly down the corridor, Counselor Troi keeping pace at his side. The doors to the transporter room parted before them with a whisper of displaced air, granting them entrance. Within was a high-ceilinged chamber, with the main attraction being the transporter stage; a slightly elevated hexagonal platform, with sets of illuminated circles inset into the floor and ceiling.


    At the room''s far end stood the control console, currently manned by a human officer whose unruly mop of brown curls bobbed as he looked up at their arrival.


    "Good morning, Counselor," the man greeted in a lilting Irish accent.


    Troi responded warmly, "Good morning, Chief. This is Tyson. He''s a guest aboard the Enterprise, and I''m giving him a tour." She gestured to Tyson. "Tyson, meet Miles O''Brien, our transporter chief."


    Tyson stepped forward, extending his hand in offering. "A pleasure to meet you, Chief." O''Brien''s grip was firm and calloused as they shook. "That''s a familiar accent. Ireland?"


    "Aye, sir," O''Brien confirmed. "County Kerry born and bred. Ever been yourself?"


    "Sadly, no." Tyson sighed. "The closest I''ve managed is Spain. But my mother''s great-grandfather immigrated from Europe around the time of the Great Famine."


    O''Brien''s brow furrowed thoughtfully. "That''d be the mid-1800s, right?"


    "It would indeed." Tyson chuckled, a rueful sound. "I know the timeline seems off by a few generations. But I''ve only just arrived here from the past, thanks to an incident yesterday. I was born in the 20th century. So my European roots aren''t quite so distant as they appear."


    O''Brien''s eyes widened, his curiosity piqued. "Is that so? Well now, that''s fascinating! What was Earth like in your time?"


    Eager to learn more about the home they shared, albeit centuries apart, O''Brien peppered Tyson with questions. Tyson did his best to satisfy the chief''s avid interest, delving into descriptions of the world he knew. But his knowledge of O''Brien''s homeland was limited at best. Ireland had never held much allure for Tyson. He only knew what he had heard in news reports. Still, he found himself caught up in the chief''s infectious enthusiasm, and together they whiled away the time swapping tales of the past.


    Off to the side, Counselor Troi observed their interaction with a pleased smile. Though much about Tyson''s sudden arrival remained uncertain, for the moment he seemed at ease, connecting with a new friend over shared history. After the upheaval of Tyson''s life over the past day, it was a reassuring sight to behold.


    Their conversation shifted towards the transporter. Miles O''Brien began by giving Tyson an overview of how the technology worked. Removing the panel from the transporter console with practiced ease, O''Brien showed him the various components and explained their functions. The Enterprise, being one of Starfleet''s flagship vessels, was equipped with twenty transporter rooms scattered among its many decks. Tyson considered himself fortunate to have chosen the one manned by O''Brien, as the chief''s extensive knowledge made even the basics of the advanced technology understandable to Tyson''s inexperienced ears.


    O''Brien started with the hardware inside the console. He walked Tyson through the purpose of the Gravitational and Heisenberg Compensators, as well as the Phase Inducers, Discriminators, Transition, and Energizing Coils. Their tour continued across the room where the chief deftly exposed the emitter array and explained its role in the transportation process. Lastly, back at the console, O''Brien expertly detailed the imaging and targeting scanners, the pattern buffer, and the rematerialization subroutine including how the annular confinement beam functioned.


    Deanna waited patiently throughout the impromptu tutorial, occasionally contributing bits of information. Though her role on the Enterprise was primarily diplomatic and counselor duties, she was still a graduate of Starfleet Academy and possessed a solid grasp of Federation technology, transporters included.


    Tyson felt he had a decent understanding of how the transporter worked after O''Brien''s thorough breakdown. He thanked the chief for taking the time to explain the technology to him and turned with Counselor Troi to exit the transporter room.


    Tyson''s wide smile was impossible to miss as they returned to the turbolift. "This is the happiest I''ve ever felt from you," Deanna Troi commented, sensing the shift in his emotions.


    "I took a vacation to Thailand once," Tyson replied enthusiastically. "It took three flights, with a layover in the Middle East and a transfer to a smaller plane to get to the island where I was staying. Total travel time was 27 hours. On top of that, there''s a 12-hour time difference between New York and Thailand. I finally got to my hotel and it was noon, but it felt like midnight to me." He gestured animatedly as he continued, "If you ever had to deal with the TSA you''d be hyped to see a transporter too."


    The TSA reference went over Troi''s head, but she didn''t comment, preserving his enthusiasm. "If you''re interested in fast travel, maybe we should head to Main Engineering next so you can see the warp core."


    "Don''t threaten me with a good time!" Tyson exclaimed enthusiastically, grabbing Deanna''s arm and dragging his guide back to the turbolift with an eager grin. His eyes shone with excitement at the prospect of seeing more of the Enterprise''s advanced technology. Deanna let herself be led along, smiling indulgently at Tyson''s childlike enthusiasm. She was pleased to sense the shift in his emotions, his awe and curiosity overtaking the neutral uncertainty he had felt since coming aboard. As they entered the turbolift, she made a mental note to arrange for him to spend some time in one of the shuttlecraft, given his thrill at rapid transportation. For now, she would enjoy his infectious excitement as she escorted him through the ship.


    The steady thrum of the warp core suffused Main Engineering with a low, resonant vibration. Tyson paused just inside the entrance, eyes widening as he took in the expansive room. Consoles and interfaces dotted the space, winking lights keeping cadence with the core''s pulsations. Engineers in mustard-gold uniforms wove between them, fingers dancing across touchscreens as they monitored the great ship''s heartbeat.


    Tyson''s gaze drifted upwards, following the conduits that wound across the ceiling like veins. But it was the warp core itself that captivated him. Enclosed in a towering column of shimmering transparent aluminum, the core allowed all to witness the harmonious interplay of matter and antimatter contained within. It bathed the room in a cool, cerulean glow.


    The ambient sounds of the warp core were the first thing to catch Tyson''s attention, a soothing susurrus just at the edge of hearing. "I should move my quarters down here," he mused aloud to Deanna beside him. "This is the best white noise machine I''ve ever heard."


    At the nearby engineering console, Lieutenant Geordi La Forge glanced up. With a friendly nod, he approached Tyson and the counselor. "After a while, you don''t even notice it anymore," Geordi said wryly. "But if you like it, you can always ask the computer to simulate the sound in your quarters." He extended his hand towards Tyson in greeting. "If it isn''t the man out of time himself. I was on the bridge when you appeared. Lieutenant Geordi LaForge."


    Tyson shook the engineer''s hand, finding LaForge''s grip to be firm and welcoming. Tyson''s voice echoed with awe as he released Geordi''s hand. "This place is... incredible."


    Geordi chuckled knowingly. "It probably seems incredible compared to what you''re used to. But this is pretty standard Starfleet technology." He gestured expansively around the vast chamber. "Let me give you a quick tour of Main Engineering."


    As they walked, Tyson found himself enveloped in a world of futuristic wonders beyond anything he could have imagined. Geordi led them first to the towering warp core, a pillar of azure light that pulsed with contained power. He pointed upward as he began his explanation. "The matter/antimatter reactor is the heart of the Enterprise," he said, his voice tinged with pride. "It generates the massive power we need for warp speed by annihilating matter and antimatter in a controlled reaction."


    Tyson followed the path of Geordi''s hand, observing the elaborate series of magnetic rings that encircled the reactor. The rings glowed with Cherenkov radiation, gently holding the volatile reaction safely at bay. "So it''s like an engine that runs on pure energy?" he asked.


    "That''s a good way to think about it," Geordi affirmed with an approving nod. "The raw energy is converted into plasma and channeled through those conduits above us." He pointed to the ceiling crisscrossed with tubes pulsing with blue-white light like luminescent veins. "That plasma provides energy for everything on the ship, from basic life support to the holodecks."


    They moved on to a nearby console lined with sleek, translucent chips that pulsed with inner light. "These are isolinear circuitry," Geordi continued, pulling out one of the chips and holding it up for Tyson to examine. "They''re the building blocks of our computer systems, much faster and more efficient than the silicon-based tech you''re probably used to."


    Tyson peered curiously at the intricate chip resting in Geordi''s palm. It seemed impossibly fragile and complex. "They seem so delicate," he remarked.


    Geordi grinned as he slid the chip back into place with a definitive click. "They''re a lot tougher than they look," he replied, "And they can hold more data than you could even imagine."


    Tyson followed Geordi through Main Engineering, eyes roving over the conduits and technology. As they made their way around a large table displaying a shimmering holographic projection of the Enterprise-D, Geordi delved into explaining the intricacies of warp field theory. "Now this," Geordi said, motioning to the display where a luminous blue grid enveloped the miniature starship, "is how we''re able to travel faster than light without breaking any laws of physics." Tyson leaned in, squinting at the elegant complexity of the hologram as if getting closer might reveal its mysteries. The grid warped and bent around the Enterprise like a soap bubble, rippling with simulated motion. Geordi continued, "The warp field, warps or bends the very fabric of space around us, reducing interstellar distances to manageable scales. We essentially ride within a bubble of normal space while space itself streams past outside."


    Tyson raised an eyebrow, the concept clicking into place. "So instead of moving through space, you move space itself?" he asked.


    "You got it." Geordi replied, flashing an appreciative smile.


    Tyson and Geordi spent several minutes immersed in an animated discussion of the intricacies of warp field mechanics. As Geordi explained the delicate balance required to maintain the stability of the warp bubble cocooning the Enterprise, Tyson''s understanding grew, grasping the basics.


    As their tour neared the thirty-minute mark, Tyson felt his mind overflowing with new information, yet invigorated by wonder at the sheer ingenuity surrounding him. Turning to take in Main Engineering with new eyes, Tyson finally said, "This is lightyears beyond anything I could have imagined."


    Geordi laughed warmly in response to Tyson''s joke. "Well, you''ve only just scratched the surface. There''s plenty more to see." He checked a small PADD in his hand, then looked up at Tyson, head tilted in curiosity as he made an offer. "What do you say we take a closer look at some of these systems? Maybe even get your hands on some real engineering work?"


    Excitement flickered in Tyson''s chest at the prospect of delving deeper into the inner workings of the ship under the chief engineer''s guidance. He glanced over at Counselor Troi, searching her face for any sign of caution or concern that would give him pause. She met his gaze steadily, the corners of her dark eyes crinkling with encouragement and warmth.


    "Don''t worry, Tyson," she soothed, her voice rich and reassuring. "This tour is meant to help acclimate you to this unfamiliar time. Finding something you feel passionate about would be a great success. You seem to have a natural curiosity for engineering. Go ahead, explore it. I''ll be right here when you''re finished."


    Reassured by the counselor''s blessing, Tyson turned back to Geordi, his eyes lighting up with curiosity and enthusiasm. "I''d love to see more," he replied eagerly.


    "Great!" Geordi clapped a friendly hand on Tyson''s shoulder, guiding him toward one of the many Jefferies tube access points dotting the smooth bulkheads. He swung open the circular hatch, releasing a breath of cool, dry air carrying a faint metallic tang. Beyond the hatch, the tight, utilitarian passage of the Jefferies tube stretched into the depths of the ship.


    Geordi ducked through the low opening first, movements smooth and practiced. He turned and gestured for the tall Tyson to follow. Stooping slightly to avoid scraping his head on the conduit-lined ceiling, Tyson entered the access tunnel.


    "This is the EPS system," Geordi''s voice echoed slightly in the confined space as he explained. "It distributes power throughout the ship from the warp core."


    They arrived at a junction where several conduits converged into an EPS manifold, a critical nexus point for routing energy flow. Kneeling, Geordi removed an access panel to expose the manifold''s inner workings. "EPS conduits can sometimes develop microfractures or power surges," he lectured. "It''s crucial we keep them in peak condition to prevent malfunctions." Geordi pointed out key components nestled within the intricate duranium alloy framework; power nodes, distribution coils, and flow regulators. "Repairing an EPS manifold requires delicate work," Geordi cautioned, retrieving a slender, softly glowing tool from his belt. "One wrong move could trigger a dangerous feedback loop in the system."


    With deft fingers, he demonstrated using the diagnostic scanners built into their tricorders. The device beeped softly, interfacing with the ship''s systems as abstract lines and graphs danced across the display, depicting fluctuating power flow.


    Next, Geordi showed Tyson how to isolate a section of the manifold using magnetic clamps, rerouting power through alternate conduits as a safeguard. "Always clamp off upstream from your work site," he instructed firmly. "Safety first."


    Tyson absorbed it all, nodding as Geordi''s confident hands realigned coils within the manifold using fine-tuned forceps.


    "Now you try," Geordi said after several demonstrations. "Just follow what I showed you." Tyson inhaled deeply to steady his nerves before accepting the proffered tools. To his surprise, his hands were steady as he carefully mimicked Geordi''s movements. "Good, nice, and easy," Geordi encouraged as Tyson gingerly twisted a coil into alignment.


    Tyson carefully handled the delicate forceps, adjusting the final coil under Geordi''s watchful gaze. He let out a breath he hadn''t realized he was holding as the tricorder chirped confirming a successful repair.


    "You''ve got a knack for this," Geordi approved with an affirming nod.


    Their work complete, the two headed back through the cramped access tunnel toward Main Engineering. Geordi led Tyson through the corridor, the two men making their way to where Counselor Troi waited. As they approached, Tyson turned to Geordi. He extended his hand. "Thank you, Lieutenant," he said earnestly. "For the tour, and the lessons."


    Geordi''s grip was firm and friendly as he shook Tyson''s hand. "Anytime," he replied easily, a smile crinkling the skin around his hidden eyes. With a nod, he excused himself, leaving to attend to his duties.


    Troi stepped forward, her dark gaze gentle as it settled on Tyson. "Ready to continue?" she inquired.


    Tyson followed her into the turbolift, the doors hissing closed behind them. As the futuristic elevator began to ascend, Troi explained, "Deck twelve has some really interesting areas. There''s a nursery for families with young children, several science labs, a transporter room, and of course sickbay which you''ve already seen."


    Tyson nodded, mentally noting the layout of the massive starship, still growing accustomed to its scale.


    "But our destination is the gymnasium," Troi continued. "Though gymnasium doesn''t do it justice. It''s more like an athletics complex. There are sections for gymnastics, martial arts, weightlifting, fencing, and some sports you probably won''t recognize from your time."


    The turbolift slowed to a stop and the doors slid open. Tyson followed Troi out onto deck twelve.


    ¡ª Star Jumper ¡ª


    Tyson


    Origins: Human, Humanoid, Drop-In, Space Pirate


    Race: Human


    Character Points: 1300


    Reality Points: 500


    Credits: 0


    Status Effects: (none)


    Drawbacks:


    Gauntlet (Locked)


    Ensign Marty Stu


    A Simple Re''Q''uest


    Hybrid


    Perks:


    Cosmic Awareness


    Out of Nowhere


    Going Native


    Live and Let Live


    This is (Not?) Rocket Science


    Kinda Bland


    Determinator


    Painted On


    Snakeskin


    Adaptable


    Duelist


    Master with your Hands


    Best of the Best


    Items:


    Laser Blade


    Spacesuit


    Personal Reality:


    Access Key


    Security System


    Spaceships:


    Tramp Freighter

 Season 1: Episode 1.4 - Deck 12

    Season 1: Episode 1.4 - Deck 12


    Stardate: 41156.9


    Earth Standard Date: February 27, 2364


    Location: U.S.S Enterprise-D, Orbiting the Fourth Planet of the Deneb System.


    The doors opened and they stepped out onto deck twelve. Tyson followed Deanna through the corridors until the gymnasium entrance appeared before them. As they entered, Tyson looked around in awe. The space was enormous, with various exercise areas visible on different tiers. While the gym wasn''t far beyond what he had seen in his time, the fact that it was on a starship was incredible.


    His eyes were drawn to the weightlifting zone, which resembled a gym from his time, with free weights, machines, and cardio equipment. Tyson was eager to get back into his normal fitness routine, but before he could head in that direction, a class in one of the martial arts areas caught his attention. About twenty people dressed in white uniforms were practicing some kind of martial art, moving in sync as they executed kicks, punches, and blocks. An instructor walked among them, barking commands that echoed through the gym. Tyson''s eyes lingered on the martial arts class, watching as the students moved in unison through their regimented routines. Deanna noticed where his attention had gone and informed him, "The senior security staff lead classes every day. There are extra uniforms and a changing area if you''d like to join in."


    Tyson''s attention was drawn by the familiar sound of phasers firing coming from another section of the gym. Deanna, noticing his immediate reaction, put a reassuring hand on his arm. "Relax, Tyson," she said. "It''s not a real weapons fight. It''s just a game."


    Tyson turned to her, eyebrows raised. "What kind of game?"


    "Follow me," Deanna replied with a smile. "I''ll show you."


    She led him to a court, about the size of a racquetball court, enclosed by walls and with an upper-level viewing deck where others could look down on the action below. The walls and floor were covered in a black grid pattern that Tyson recognized from his metaknowledge as a holodeck.


    Deanna explained, "This is a miniature holodeck, not as advanced as the complete ones found elsewhere on the ship. I''ll take you to see the holodeck later on, but it''s a room encased with projectors that uses forcefields and even parts of the replicator systems, to create realistic images that can be interacted with." She pointed down at the court. "This simple holodeck is used to play a game called Velocity. In the game, two players use phasers¡­ energy weapons set on low power, to shoot a holographic disc. The goal is to make the disc hit your opponent."


    Tyson watched as two crewmen stepped onto the court, each wearing athletic clothes; one in red, the other in blue. Each held a phaser in their hands. As Tyson observed, the disc appeared and shifted to blue. The man in blue fired, striking the holographic disc and sending it careening toward his opponent, its color shifting to red after being hit. The man in red shuffled to the side and fired, missing with his first shot, but tagging the disc with his second before it could strike him. Back and forth they went, volleying the disc and watching it shift colors as it flew toward its next target. The pace of the game was relentless, each player anticipating the other''s next move, constantly shifting to avoid being tagged by the disc. The crowd on the viewing deck above cheered with enthusiasm, their voices echoing down to the focused players below.


    Tyson scanned the rapt faces on the deck and noticed that despite the competitive nature of the game, there was a palpable sense of camaraderie and fun among the spectators. He even spotted some senior officers, including Worf, observing the match with amusement. The match wore on for several more minutes until finally, the red-clad player emerged victorious. The crowd erupted in applause as both competitors left the court, drenched in sweat but smiling.


    Tyson turned to Deanna, who had watched the velocity match alongside him. Her dark eyes shone with enthusiasm. "That was incredible," he said. "It looked like a futuristic game of tennis."


    "I''m pleased you enjoyed it," Deanna replied, her voice warm. "The crew finds velocity a wonderful way to stay fit and sharpen their phaser skills, all while having fun."


    Tyson rubbed the back of his neck. "Think there''s any chance I could try a game?"


    "Of course." Deanna gestured toward a side passage. "Let''s find you some proper clothes first."


    She led him to a small changing room. Inside he found sets of plain, tight athletic pants and shirts in an array of sizes. Tyson hurriedly picked a set in his size and pulled them on. When he emerged, he found Deanna had changed as well. He found himself checking her out in the athletic wear but reminded himself that Deanna Troi was half-Betazoid, and an empath. She could sense emotions, so his attraction was surely no mystery to her. Though the counselor was undeniably attractive, with shapely curves that her form-fitting outfit did little to conceal, she likely dealt with such interest regularly. Ogling would only emphasize what she undoubtedly already sensed from him. Tyson glanced up, focusing his gaze on her face, taking note that she''d removed her tiara hairpiece, and her hair was tied up in a tight bun. And though she gave no outward sign of noticing his flustered state, there was no doubt his interest and embarrassment shone clearly to her Betazoid senses.


    Clearing his throat, Tyson scrambled for a neutral topic of conversation. "I appreciate you taking the time to show me around," he began awkwardly.


    Deanna''s eyes glinted with subtle amusement, though her face remained professionally placid. "Of course," she replied. "I know this is all new to you. I''m happy to help you get acclimated."


    Tyson nodded. Deanna''s soothing presence soon put him at ease. She was simply too kind to hold his flustered reactions against him. "Shall we?" Deanna asked brightly, ignoring his momentary distraction. Tyson nodded and followed her toward the velocity courts, trying to keep his gaze safely above her shoulders.


    Tyson followed Deanna into the smaller velocity court, empty save for the pair of phasers waiting just inside the entrance. As they stepped across the threshold, the holodeck worked its magic, their clothing shifting from their neutral hues; his to a deep blue, hers to a vivid red. "The rules are simple," Deanna explained, her voice warm and soothing. "When the disc illuminates your color, try to hit it. Aiming to angle the disc toward your opponent is ideal. The first to land a hit claims the round. Ten rounds win the game."


    Her explanation complete, the disc materialized between them, hovering, pulsing Tyson''s assigned blue. He took aim, steadied his phaser, and fired. The disc rocketed across the court, only to meet the deflection of Deanna''s returning shot.


    "Not bad," she said, a hint of a smile touching her lips. Tyson couldn''t help but grin in return. He lined up his next shot, focused, and fired again.


    Tyson and Deanna volleyed the glowing disc back and forth across the court as he learned the rhythm of the game. His Master with Your Hands perk made wielding the phaser come easily. In fact, he realized quickly that he had quite an aptitude for the sport. The more rapidly Tyson fired, the greater his accuracy became. He fell into a strategy of shooting nearly the instant Deanna did, not taking the time to aim but simply loosing bolts in the disc''s general direction. Whether through some unconscious adjustment in his grip, manipulation of the probabilities involved in striking the target, or some other esoteric quality, the speed of his shots improved their precision. The reason behind it mattered little to Tyson. All he knew was that the faster he pulled the trigger, the more accurate his shots flew. Thanks to this discovery, he handily won round after round.


    Deanna conceded with a sigh. "I guess you win."


    A smattering of applause drifted down from the upper deck where a few crewmembers had gathered to observe the match. Tyson flashed them a grin, pleased by the recognition. As they neared the exit, one of the crewmen approached them. He was the player in red who had won the earlier match. "Not bad for a newbie," he drawled, looking Tyson up and down. "Want to go a round?"


    Tyson glanced at Deanna, who gave a slight shrug to indicate she didn''t mind waiting if he wanted to play again.


    "Normally I wouldn''t play with a newbie, but I''ll make an exception for you," the man said, his smug face twisting into a grin. "Don''t worry, I''ll go easy."


    "Thanks," Tyson said with a hint of sarcasm. "I appreciate that." Tyson turned and walked back toward the court. The man in red grinned at him, clearly confident in his victory. Tyson took a defensive stance, bracing himself for a hard-fought match.


    Instead, the man in red''s play was deliberately sloppy. He fired slowly and directly at Tyson, ensuring Tyson could easily deflect the shots. "Looks like I spoke too soon," the man said after Tyson scored the first pair of points. "Who knew you''d be a half-decent player? Not bad at all." Sensing he was being patronized, Tyson maintained a straight face as he continued swatting away the man''s slow, predictable shots. With each return, he fired the disc back faster and faster, forcing the man to abandon his act. The man''s smugness was replaced by a determined scowl as his eyes narrowed in confusion. "You know, you''re okay. Let''s see if you can keep up."


    Suddenly, there was a noticeable change in his demeanor. He straightened his stance, trained his focus on the disc, and fired a quick shot. In an instant, Tyson responded, and the man unleashed more shots in rapid succession, the disc coming at Tyson with astonishing speed. The crowd on the upper platform broke into applause, admiring the sudden display of skill.


    Tyson opted to pick up the pace in return. He unleashed a flurry of bolts, sending the disc flying back immediately each time his opponent struck it. Step by step, Tyson pushed him back toward the wall, his phaser continuously spitting out shots.


    Tensions permeated the gymnasium air as the crowd collectively held their breath, enthralled by the intensifying exchange of phaser fire between the two competitors. The man in red''s face contorted into a mask of fierce determination while Tyson''s focus narrowed to an almost predatory intensity. Lost in the rhythm of the game, Tyson felt unstoppable, as if in a trance. He was far more engrossed in this absurd futuristic version of paddle ball than he could have ever imagined.


    Having steadily given ground to Tyson''s unrelenting assault, the man in red stepped back from the court''s center, chest heaving as he struggled to catch his breath. A healthy sheen of sweat now covered his skin and his eyes burned with a mixture of exhaustion and something resembling grudging respect. "Not bad," the man conceded, extending his hand to Tyson. "I''ve...I''ve never even seen any of the top velocity players fire shots so rapidly. You''ve got a gift."


    Tyson, sweating profusely himself, shook the proffered hand. "Thanks," was all he could think to say. Despite the man''s valiant efforts, Tyson had won the match decisively, 10-3. He smiled as Deanna made her way down from the upper deck to greet him at the arena door. Her face was lit with a wide smile as she exclaimed, "You were amazing! I couldn''t believe how quickly you learned the game."


    Tyson shrugged, feigning nonchalance. "I guess I just...found my zone."


    Deanna''s eyes twinkled with amusement. "I think you may be a natural at velocity, and with a phaser."


    "Maybe," was all Tyson said in response, though inwardly he swelled with pride at her praise. It had been a hard-fought match, but he had emerged victorious through utilizing his new Perks. The man in red had pressed him, yet Tyson had realized the best way to leverage his skills, leading to his win. Basking in Deanna''s admiration, he allowed himself a moment to enjoy his victory. For now, he simply savored the thrill of success.


    Tyson had been so focused on Deanna that he failed to notice the figure approaching them. The man was well over six feet tall with wide shoulders and thick arms. The Klingon''s features were heavy and his forehead ridged, with dark eyes that peered, nearly eye to eye with Tyson. He had moved with a surprising fluidity for someone so large. Tyson tensed but the man simply inclined his head in greeting.


    "For someone who''s never held a phaser before, that was an excellent showing," Worf''s voice was a deep baritone.


    Tyson blinked in surprise, caught off guard by the unexpected praise. He glanced at Deanna, who gave him an encouraging smile. Clearing his throat, Tyson met the man''s gaze. "Thank you," he replied, hoping he sounded more confident than he felt. Then Tyson blinked in surprise, remembering how the Klingon, Worf, had spoke to him the day prior. Tyson stepped back and pointed an accusatory finger, and exclaimed, "I knew you spoke English!" Then realizing his posture he relaxed, not wanting to seem confrontational.


    Worf let out a rumbling chuckle. "Of course. Did you think I only spoke Klingon?"


    Tyson scratched the back of his head sheepishly. "No... I just didn''t think the big alien would be trolling me."


    Worf threw his head back and barked out laughter. "I was raised by human parents." He held out his hand and introduced himself, "I am Worf, son of Mogh."


    Tyson grasped his hand, feeling the man''s strong grip. "So, Worf, besides messing with the new guy," Tyson began, "What exactly are your duties on the Enterprise?"


    Worf answered, "I am the Chief of Security and also sometimes serve as a Tactical Officer."


    Tyson listened with rapt attention as Worf described security protocols, and various levels of alert status, from the cautious readiness of yellow alert to the hair-trigger preparations of red alert, each escalating the ship''s readiness for potential conflict. He learned that internal security was just as vital as preparing for external threats. "I also oversee all boarding protocols. Ensuring our interactions are secure when we encounter other vessels or stations." Worf explained in his gravelly tone, "When there are missions off the ship, away team members are carefully selected based on the skills needed to accomplish the mission. As standard procedure, each team usually consists of a member from each Starfleet division, including at least a security, engineering, and command officer, with additional specializations depending on the nature of the mission."


    Tyson, eager to hear more asked, "And what happens if there''s an intruder aboard?" he asked.


    "We have several layers of security measures in place," Worf replied, "Firstly, our internal sensors can detect any unauthorized presence." He went on to explain how force fields could isolate intruders, and how security teams trained in various forms of combat, both armed and hand-to-hand, stood ready to respond at a moment''s notice. "Our phasers have multiple settings. They''re far stronger than the ones used in velocity. They can be adjusted from stun to kill, though we aim to incapacitate when possible."


    The big Klingon gave Tyson a friendly clap on the shoulder that nearly knocked the human off his feet before excusing himself from the gymnasium to return to his duties.


    Deanna turned to Tyson, her dark eyes thoughtful. "I''d like to show you sickbay again," she said. "I know you''ve already seen it, but yesterday must have been so overwhelming. I thought it might help to see it again with fresh eyes."


    Tyson nodded. "Lead the way."


    Deanna guided him back to the changing rooms so they could change out of their velocity outfits. As they walked the corridors of the Enterprise, Tyson took in the starship; crew members of various species hurried past on their tasks, the soft chimes of opening doors underscoring the ever-present thrum of the engines. It was a sound Tyson was still growing accustomed to but found oddly comforting. After a short trip, Deanna and Tyson arrived at the sickbay entrance. The doors slid open with a swoosh, revealing the state-of-the-art medical facility beyond. Biobeds lined the perimeter, and sophisticated diagnostic devices were arranged around each one. At the far end of the room, Dr. Beverly Crusher looked up from a display panel she had been studying.


    The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.


    "Back so soon, Tyson?" she inquired, a hint of amusement in her voice. It had been less than a day since the young man first arrived on the Enterprise, yet this was already his second visit to the ship''s medical facility.


    Tyson glanced around the room, taking in the rows of biobeds along the perimeter, the sophisticated diagnostic devices hovering above each one. A flicker of curiosity lit up his eyes as he asked, "Doctor Crusher. It''s good to see you again. If it''s not too much trouble, I''m curious about how medical technology has advanced since my time."


    The doctor moved with easy confidence, her red hair swaying as she gestured towards the equipment lining the walls. Her voice was warm as she began an impromptu tour. "This," she said, holding up a sleek, metallic device, "is a medical tricorder." With a flick of her wrist, the compact tricorder unfolded, revealing an intricate display panel glowing with lights and figures. "It''s one of our most essential tools. With this, I can scan a patient and get detailed data on everything from vitals to cell structure."


    She demonstrated by scanning her own hand. The tricorder beeped and a cascade of information flooded the screen. Displaying bone density, oxygen saturation, blood pressure, and a myriad of other information. "A century ago you''d have needed whole teams of specialists to get what this hand-held device provides instantly."


    Dr. Crusher led the way to an empty biobed. Its surface gleamed, equipped with sensors and emitters. "Our biobeds continuously monitor patients and can even administer targeted treatments." She traced a finger along the bed''s edge. "They employ various energies to stimulate cellular regeneration and accelerate healing." With a tap, several small lights flickered on along the biobed''s sides. "Those emitters use specialized wavelengths to mend tissue and knit bone." The doctor gave Tyson a wry smile. "No more stitches or plaster casts for us." She scooped up a slender, pen-shaped instrument. It emitted a soft blue glow as she activated it. "This osteogenic stimulator can fuse fractures in a fraction of the time it took in your day."


    Tyson followed Dr. Crusher through sickbay, his eyes wide with wonder at the advanced medical technology surrounding him. They paused at a station where the doctor showcased hyposprays, needleless injection devices that could administer medication through the skin without pain. Tyson listened intently, as Dr. Crusher spoke passionately about her field. "There isn''t enough time to cover all the changes," she said after a while, her voice tinged with a hint of regret. "But suffice it to say that nearly every aspect of medicine has advanced leaps and bounds since your time." She paused for a moment, her expression turning thoughtful, "But with all our advancements," she continued, "we still encounter new challenges." Dr. Crusher walked over to a display showing microscopic images of various pathogens. "Space is vast, and with every new planet we explore or species we encounter, there''s potential for new diseases and maladies that we''ve never seen before."


    Her slender fingers danced across the panel as she pulled up examples of recent discoveries; strange viruses and unknown cellular anomalies that stumped even the most experienced medical minds aboard the Enterprise and throughout the Federation. "It''s an ongoing battle," Dr. Crusher admitted, a hint of weary determination in her voice. "One that requires constant research and development of new treatments to combat these threats."


    Tyson nodded slowly in understanding, his respect and admiration for Dr. Crusher growing with each new revelation about the complexities of space-age medicine. "And despite all our technology," she concluded, turning back toward him with an earnest look in her bright blue eyes, "one of the most important elements is still care, the doctor-patient relationship."


    The tour ended leaving Tyson feeling simultaneously awed by how far humanity had advanced medically, and yet humbled by how much remained unknown even in this futuristic era. The doors to the sickbay hissed open, drawing the attention of Tyson, Dr. Crusher, and Counselor Troi. A crewman staggered in, clad in pads and a uniform that hinted at some unfamiliar sport. The pads were scuffed with the marks of hard use, and his right arm was cradled by his left, pulled close to his abdomen.


    Dr. Crusher¡¯s professional focus sharpened as she briskly crossed the bay toward the injured man. Though technically just an observer, Tyson found himself driven to help. He snatched up a medical tricorder and aimed it at the crewman. The device whirred softly as it scanned the injury.


    ¡°Fractured clavicle,¡± Tyson announced after studying the tricorder¡¯s display.


    Dr. Crusher glanced up from her physical examination and nodded once. ¡°I concur. Fractured clavicle it is.¡±


    Tyson felt a hint of accomplishment at having his assessment validated. Dr. Crusher turned her attention back to the crewman, her hands moving with practiced confidence as she began treatment. Tyson assisted by bracing the man¡¯s arm so the bone would be set properly as Dr. Crusher used the osteogenic stimulator to accelerate the bone¡¯s natural healing process. Within minutes, under the doctor''s expert care, the crewman was able to move his arm freely again.


    Dr. Crusher gave the man a few final instructions, ¡°Avoid any strenuous overhead activity for the next few days,¡± Dr. Crusher instructed briskly. ¡°The fracture is mended but will remain tender and vulnerable until it fully stabilizes.¡±


    Then she sent him on his way with an encouraging pat on the shoulder. As the doors whispered at the crewman''s exit, Dr. Crusher regarded Tyson appraisingly, "Thank you, Tyson," she said. "You were quick to assist with the crewman¡¯s injury. That kind of readiness to help is an admirable quality." Tyson felt an odd flush of pride at the doctor''s words. Troi gave him an approving nod. "You have a natural aptitude for this work," Dr. Crusher continued thoughtfully. "It takes more than just technical skill to respond well in difficult situations. A level head and a willingness to take action are essential."


    Tyson shrugged. "Just trying to help where I can," he murmured. Tyson sat on the biobed, it was a thoughtless move that he believed to be innocuous, but the bed beeped as he made contact with it. The beeping drew Dr. Crusher''s attention. She grabbed the medical tricorder and scanned Tyson. "That''s odd. Very unusual," she said. Crusher handed the tricorder over to Tyson, asking, "Since you seem adept with a tricorder, what do you make of these readings?"


    Tyson looked at the handheld device, but it didn''t display the readings of his body.


    [+50 CP] Hybrid (Drawback)


    Your base race has been hybridized with another (Betazoid). In addition to having a hybridized appearance, you will also gain all the negative traits of your second species. Betazoids are a peaceful species with human-like features and powerful telepathic abilities. Betazoids are physically indistinguishable from humans in every aspect except for their solid black irises. They possess natural telepathy and can easily sense the thoughts and emotions of any living thing. Betazoids are members of the Federation and commonly serve as either counselors or negotiators. Betazoid hybrids'' weaknesses are they have weaker telepathic powers compared to full Betazoids.


    The display continued scrolling with a personalized message from Q.


    "Well, well, well. You rolled quite the drawback. Those are meant to hinder you, not benefit you. Betazoid hybrids don''t have any downsides. You didn''t think I''d let you off that easily, did you? We can''t have that now, can we? "


    [+200 CP] Amok Time (Drawback)


    As a result of your racial hybridization, you now suffer from a chemical imbalance in the brain. Every seven years, this imbalance starts to get out of whack. If you don¡¯t have the mental discipline, you will die within a week of this period beginning. The only thing that will stop this is a ritual to sate your primal urges. In this case, you''ll either need to mate or kill. And no cheating! Using a holodeck won''t fix the chemical imbalance.


    Tyson had never experienced anything like the subtle shift in his senses that began. It started as a whisper, a vibration at the edge of his consciousness that steadily grew louder and more insistent. Sitting next to Deanna, Tyson became sharply aware of a gentle warmth emanating from her, a deep serenity and compassion that spoke of great emotional strength. It was as if he could sense the undercurrents of her thoughts. This newfound sensitivity startled Tyson, yet it carried with it a surprising feeling of connection that he found oddly comforting. The sensation expanded outwards like ripples in a pond, allowing Tyson to sense the very mood of the ship itself. Beyond the walls of sickbay, he could feel the collective hum of focus and duty, the quiet camaraderie that bound the crew together.


    With this expansion of his senses, Tyson realized this new skill granted him profound insight into the emotional states of those around him, but at the cost of him having to experience¡­ the Pon Farr?


    That wasn''t much of a punishment in Tyson''s mind, and the CP bonus was well worth it. But then the message on the tricorder continued scrolling.


    "You''re right. I''ve been too soft on you¡­ There, that''s better. A little...handicap to keep things interesting for you. And no, before you ask, this drawback is not related to those tidbits of information I gave you. That little treat is still coming your way. I do so love shaking things up and seeing how you primates adapt. This should prove utterly fascinating."


    [+300 CP] Amok Time (Drawback)


    As a result of your racial hybridization, you now suffer from a chemical imbalance in the brain. Every seven years months, this imbalance starts to get out of whack. If you don¡¯t have the mental discipline, you will die within a week of this period beginning. The only thing that will stop this is a ritual to sate your primal urges. In this case, you''ll either need to mate or kill. And no cheating! Using a holodeck won''t fix the chemical imbalance. (Oh and did I mention, Amok Time has started¡­ now)


    Tyson took in a sharp breath, partly from realizing he was starting the Ponn Farr, now, and also because his new empathic senses intertwined with Troi''s. "I''m not just human," the words slipped from him in a hushed tone.


    Crusher was present but unaware of the depth of their exchange. She expressed her confusion plainly, "I''m not sure how this happened. Your scans marked you clearly as human yesterday."


    Her words floated on the periphery of Tyson''s heightened awareness, secondary to the profound interaction unfolding between him and Troi. Tyson could sense Troi''s empathic tendrils delicately exploring his psyche, a feeling that was neither invasive nor unwelcome. It was a gentle mental touch, a cautious probing of the depths of his being. He perceived Troi''s voice, as clear and resonant within his mind, bypassing the need for spoken words.


    Tyson, can you hear me?


    With a simple nod, Tyson confirmed. Troi''s reaction was immediate, her eyes widening as the reality of their shared experience sank in. "It''s true," she breathed out.


    Tyson kept his eyes fixed on Troi as Crusher continued thinking aloud, oblivious to the wordless conversation unfolding between counselor and her patient. The doctor''s musings were a tangle of professional curiosity and bafflement. "I couldn''t have overlooked this... But it doesn''t make any sense." Her voice betrayed the turmoil churning within. "Betazoids had no contact with Earth during Tyson''s time." She paused, rifling through centuries of historical trivia in her mind before adding, "If I remember correctly, Betazed didn''t achieve warp capability until the early twenty-third century. Isn''t that right, Deanna?"


    The question temporarily drew Troi''s attention away from the empathic link she now shared with Tyson. "That''s correct, Doctor," Troi confirmed, her words deepening the mystery surrounding Tyson''s sudden telepathic talent.


    Crusher concluded, "We''ll need to inform the captain about this."


    The discovery of Tyson''s sudden empathic talent was perplexing, but the man himself seemed unaffected. Tyson was her guest after all, and she had planned to show him more of the Enterprise before their tour concluded. "If it isn''t urgent and Tyson isn''t in danger, Could we delay bringing this up with the captain? Perhaps it could wait until the senior staff meeting, later," she replied finally. "There are other areas of the ship I was hoping to show him first."


    Troi glanced at Tyson questioningly. He nodded, curiosity glinting in his eyes at the prospect of seeing more of the starship.


    "Very well," said Dr. Crusher after a moment, though her tone still held a note of concern. "I''ll inform the captain during the meeting."


    Troi gave her a reassuring smile. "Thank you, Doctor. We''ll see you at the senior staff meeting, after the tour."


    With the matter settled for the moment, Troi led them from sickbay, ready to continue Tyson''s orientation to the Enterprise. Though the mystery of his new abilities lingered at the back of her mind, she pushed the questions aside, focusing instead on her role as welcoming host.


    ¡ª Star Jumper ¡ª


    Counselor Troi had several hours before the senior staff meeting. As they walked, Troi sensed the elation and excitement rolling off of Tyson in waves. She could practically taste the intensity of his emotions through her Betazoid empathic senses. His eagerness to experience something new from this era dwarfed any other feelings she had sensed from him since his arrival.


    They arrived at the holodeck. Troi explained, "This is a holodeck. The computer uses a combination of forcefields, replicators, and other technologies to create a fully immersive virtual environment. I think you''ll find it an extraordinary experience, far beyond anything from your time."


    Troi stepped to the holodeck control panel, "Was there a particular place you wanted to visit?" she asked, her voice smooth and professional, with just a hint of real interest underneath. "Maybe something from Earth in your time period? Or even earlier, before your lifetime. Any setting from a book, or old media that we can check to see if it survived to the present? If it''s in the records we can visit."


    Tyson paused, thoughts turning behind his eyes. With the whole of history and fiction to pick from, the sheer number of choices was staggering. After a long moment, he responded, curiosity warming his words. "Can you show me what other people have been visiting recently?"


    Troi''s slim fingers danced across the console, long practice evident in their sure movements. She leaned in, scrutinizing the display. "Several programs were run anonymously, or had their details hidden from the public logs..." she murmured, scrolling down the list. "But there are a few here we can see."


    She stopped as the screen populated with a list of recent simulations. "Lieutenant LaForge has an advanced warp engine design program ongoing," she read aloud. "Lieutenant Worf recently ran one of his Klingon battle simulations. And Commander Riker has been replaying missions from the original NX-01 Enterprise."


    Troi glanced up at Tyson after each one, gauging his reaction. He seemed to consider each option but remained noncommittal.


    Troi laughed softly, meeting Tyson''s eyes with a gentle tilt of her head. "Most of these seem a little dull. Are you sure you wouldn''t rather try something more imaginative? The holodeck can recreate almost anything you can think of."


    Her words were an invitation to adventure, a chance for Tyson to not just observe history, but live it.


    Tyson asked curiously, "Can you check what mission Commander Riker was replaying of the original Enterprise? I''m curious about what that might have been like. I imagine it was closer to my time, fantastical, but not so removed as we are now."


    Counselor Deanna Troi examined the log on the holodeck control panel and explained, "It was a mission where they uncovered a derelict Vulcan ship. You haven''t met any Vulcans yet, but they''re one of the founding Federation members known for their dedication to logic and emotional control." She scrolled further down the text on the screen. "In this particular mission, the Vulcans were stricken by an illness caused by an element found in the area of space the Enterprise was traveling through." Troi frowned, her dark eyes troubled. "This simulation is quite gruesome with detailed accounts of the Vulcans'' becoming aggressive. But if you''re into horror or action, it might be something worth trying."


    Tyson nodded thoughtfully. Despite Troi''s warning about the nature of the simulation, Tyson believed he remembered that episode of Enterprise. "Could we visit that simulation?" he asked, unable to keep an eager note from his voice. "I think it would be fascinating to see how things were handled in those times."


    Troi hesitated as she weighed the potential impact of such a vivid and potentially disturbing experience on Tyson''s psyche. She recognized the earnestness and genuine interest shining in his eyes. "I suppose we could," she conceded after a thoughtful moment, brushing back a lock of her dark hair. "Just remember, it might be quite intense and graphic. Are you certain you want to proceed?"


    Tyson''s eyes sparkled with excitement as he affirmed his decision. "Absolutely. I want to see it for myself." His enthusiasm was palpable.


    Troi nodded slowly, a flicker of concern in her eyes even as she acknowledged his choice. She turned and selected the simulation.


    ¡ª Star Jumper ¡ª


    Tyson


    Origins: Human, Humanoid, Drop-In, Space Pirate


    Race: Human-Betazoid (Hybrid)


    Character Points: 1650


    Reality Points: 500


    Credits: 0


    Status Effects: (none)


    Drawbacks:


    Gauntlet (Locked)


    Ensign Marty Stu


    A Simple Re¡¯Q¡¯uest


    Hybrid (Betazoid)


    Amok Time


    Perks:


    Cosmic Awareness


    Out of Nowhere


    Going Native


    Live and Let Live


    This is (Not?) Rocket Science


    Kinda Bland


    Determinator


    Painted On


    Snakeskin


    Adaptable


    Duelist


    Master with your Hands


    Best of the Best


    Items:


    Laser Blade


    Spacesuit


    Personal Reality:


    Access Key


    Security System


    Spaceships:


    Tramp Freighter

 Season 1: Episode 2.1 - Holodeck

    Stardate: 41156.9


    Earth Standard Date: February 27, 2364


    Location: NX-01 Holodeck Simulation, U.S.S Enterprise-D, Orbiting the Fourth Planet of the Deneb System.


    Tyson and Troi stepped into the holodeck. As the doors closed behind them, the room went completely black. Troi sensed Tyson''s growing unease and placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. "Remember, this is just a simulation. You''re safe here," she reassured him.


    Tyson stood motionless in the pitch-blackness, unable to see anything around him. In a blink, his surroundings changed entirely. He now found himself in a small, cramped room with an odd shape that slowly came into focus, revealing a shuttle pod interior.


    A screen flickered to life near the forward control console. The screen was black for a moment and a text notification popped up on the screen.


    Episode: Star Trek The Next Generation - Enterprise Tour Complete!


    +50 RP


    Reality Points: 550


    The text was quickly replaced by a video. Tyson recognized the stern visage of Captain Jonathan Archer, commanding officer of the NX-01 Enterprise, appearing on the display.


    Archer''s voice crackled through the speakers. "Recruit, by the time you receive this message, your shuttle pod should have already docked with the Seleya." His tone was grave, carrying the weight of the situation. "Enterprise picked up the Vulcan distress call and attempted to provide aid, but all the Vulcans aboard are suffering from neurological decay caused by Trellium-D. We lost a MACO and T''Pol in the medical bay." At this, his jaw tightened, grief briefly shadowing his eyes. "Malcolm and I barely escaped ourselves."


    Tyson listened intently, unconsciously leaning forward. Archer continued, "Malcolm managed to get you out there by remote piloting the shuttle pod. You''re their only hope now." The captain''s stare was unrelenting through the viewscreen. "We don''t expect a miracle from you. Enterprise will return to pick you up once you navigate the shuttle pod out of the asteroid field. Good luck."


    The message ended abruptly as the screen winked out. Tyson peered through the forward windows but saw the shuttle pod wasn''t moving, confirming they had already docked with the afflicted Vulcan ship.


    Tyson had been so absorbed in watching the viewscreen and listening to Captain Archer''s urgent message that he had forgotten Counselor Troi was even there. She spoke up from behind him, breaking the silence that had fallen after the transmission ended.


    "So how do you want to handle this?" she asked.


    Tyson nearly jumped at the sound of her voice, so immersed had he been in taking in their surroundings and the explanation video. He turned to face Troi, considering their options and trying to come up with a plausible strategy that wouldn''t reveal his meta-knowledge of the situation.


    "In my time, we had videogames with missions similar to what we''re facing now," Tyson began, hoping his explanation would justify whatever decision he made. "Usually in those games, the characters giving you your orders, or quests, would provide hints within the dialogue about how best to accomplish the mission. The one thing Captain Archer said that could be interpreted as a hint was that they lost a MACO and T''Pol in the medical bay. That gives us our first destination."


    Troi nodded thoughtfully as she listened. "Do you have any information that might be helpful?" Tyson asked, hoping she could provide some useful insight.


    "Vulcans are typically two or three times stronger than humans," Troi replied. "But I''m not sure how they''ll be affected in their current condition here."


    "Thanks for the heads up," Tyson said gratefully. "Are you ready?"


    Troi gave a nod of agreement. Together they climbed the ladder leading from the shuttle up into the afflicted Vulcan ship, unsure of what they would find within.


    The docking corridor of the Vulcan cruiser was dark and foreboding. Wires sparked fitfully and conduits leaked ominously along the walls, casting an eerie pall on the passageway. Tyson''s eyes tracked warily across the unsettling surroundings as he and Troi made their way cautiously through the flickering gloom. The strobing lights threw twisted shadows across the bulkheads, adding to the sinister atmosphere.


    In the distance, Tyson spotted a shambling figure emerging from the darkness. It turned and began lurching unsteadily toward them, movements disjointed and jerking. The staggering approach sent a chill down Tyson''s spine, hackles rising at the unnerving sight.


    Tyson approached the control panel set into the wall of the corridor, assuming it controlled the bulkheads ahead, but the angular Vulcan script was indecipherable to him. He turned to Troi, and asked, "Any suggestions?"


    Troi blinked, shrugging. "This was the simulation you chose. We weren''t provided any weapons. You may as well put those muscles of yours to use."


    The corrupted Vulcan shambled toward Tyson, lurching forward in uncoordinated movements. Tyson watched its approach warily, knowing that his best chance to avoid being struck by the creature''s powerful blows was to rely on the Snakeskin Perk that allowed him to dodge attacks more nimbly. But the perk worked better the less he was wearing. As the corrupted Vulcan closed in, Tyson stripped off his shirt, exposing his muscular physique.


    Deanna Troi looked on with appreciation as Tyson removed his shirt. Tyson had been trying to suppress his empathic senses, finding it disorienting on the holodeck where the simulated creatures lacked empathic signatures, unlike the real Enterprise crew members in nearby rooms. But even dialing down his abilities, he still picked up a flare of interest from Deanna when he shed his shirt. Tyson couldn''t help but smile slightly at that.


    The corrupted Vulcan lunged, its pale arms outstretched, grasping hands seeking purchase. Tyson sidestepped smoothly, the creature''s attack missing him by mere inches. As the Vulcan stumbled past, off-balance, Tyson pivoted and delivered a sharp, precise blow with his fist to its midsection. The impact doubled the creature over, giving Tyson an opening. With a grunt, he launched a fierce, powerful kick that sent the corrupted Vulcan sprawling backward to the floor.


    But the creature was up again, relentless in its assault. It came at Tyson hard, but he met the attack head-on, ducking under the corrupted Vulcan''s wild, sweeping swing before hammering it with a crushing, bone-jarring punch to the chest. It reeled back from the tremendous force of the blow.


    They exchanged attacks then, Tyson raining down merciless impacts as the Vulcan wavered under the relentless battery but somehow kept coming. Tyson battered it relentlessly, gradually wearing the creature down bit by bit with his precise, controlled strikes. With a final, mighty blow, Tyson knocked the corrupted Vulcan to the floor where it lay unmoving in a broken heap.


    Breathing hard from the exertion, Tyson scanned his surroundings warily for any other threats. In the silence that followed, he became aware of the pounding of his own heart, the only sound now aside from his measured breaths.


    The quiet was interrupted by the sharp echo of clapping. Tyson glanced over to see Counselor Troi standing nearby, her dark eyes wide with what could only be described as impressed astonishment.


    "That was amazing," she said, her voice tinged with awe. "A bit brutal, I''ll admit, but impressive nonetheless."


    Tyson smiled slightly. "Thanks, but let''s not draw any more of them to us," he replied, his voice low.


    Tyson strode over to the console, beckoning Troi to join him with a wave of his hand. "Can you make heads or tails of any of this?" he asked. "Maybe find a way to the medbay for us?"


    Deanna stepped up and began prodding at the controls until a diagram of the alien ship blossomed across the screen. Troi explained the particulars of the ship''s layout according to the diagram. "I think I''ve got it," he announced when she had finished. "Follow me."


    Deanna followed behind Tyson, matching his confident stride even as they wound through the alien ship''s maze of identical corridors. He moved with purpose as if he had a clear destination in mind despite never having set foot on the vessel before.


    They soon reached a collapsed section where rubble and twisted metal barred their way. Without hesitation, Tyson turned and tore open a maintenance panel set into the wall just shy of the blockade. Behind it, a narrow ladder disappeared up into darkness. Tyson seized the rungs and scrambled swiftly upwards. Deanna waited a moment before following, not wanting to crowd the man on the tight ladder. She moved carefully, hyperaware of the yawning shadows above and below.


    "Do you play many games?" Tyson asked, looking down as they ascended.


    "I''m not a holodeck person," Deanna replied. "I do enjoy card games though." She studied his back thoughtfully. "You seem to be enjoying yourself."


    "In my time, we had many types of games. My favorites were RPGs, Role-playing games," Tyson explained. "I really enjoyed them. This is similar, but so much better because I''m not just playing, I''m part of the story, living the adventure."


    Tyson halted abruptly as he stepped off the access ladder. The corridor stretched before them, choked with twisted shards of metal and debris that transformed the once pristine passage into a treacherous maze. Gloom enveloped them, the emergency lights doing little to pierce the oppressive darkness. With the power offline for so long, even the backup systems could barely muster more than a dim, flickering glow, leaving the ship swaddled in menacing shadows.


    Cautiously, Tyson picked his way through the debris, gesturing for Deanna to follow in his footsteps. The schematics suggested the medbay couldn''t be far now, yet the way forward remained obscured by the devastation surrounding them. Tyson''s senses strained, alert for any sign of movement in the murk.


    Without warning, two shambling shapes emerged from the shadows ahead. The first corrupted Vulcan lurched toward them, movements disjointed and unnatural. Tyson pivoted aside as its grasping hands shot out, narrowly avoiding its attack. Seizing the opening, he slammed a fist into its midsection, his boosted strength staggering the creature. It swiftly recovered, lashing out with jagged nails. Tyson wove and ducked the blows, his Snakeskin Perk allowing him to slip through the attacks unscathed.


    The second Vulcan shambled forward to join the assault. Tyson retreated steadily down the passageway, the relentless creatures pressing him back. Deanna watched helplessly, heart hammering as she silently urged Tyson on. With a final burst of effort, he dispatched the creatures, their corrupted forms collapsing to the deck.


    Together they pressed on through the ravaged ship until the medbay doors loomed before them. The interior was a disaster zone; medical equipment lay strewn about, some reduced to mangled scrap while others sputtered erratically. Scorch marks and deep gouges marred the walls and floor, evidence that a vicious battle had been waged here. Tyson and Deanna exchanged uneasy glances, steeling themselves before venturing into the ransacked medical bay.


    Tyson picked his way carefully through the debris-strewn sickbay, stepping over the wreckage of biobeds and medical equipment. The room showed signs of a violent struggle, with consoles smashed and bulkheads buckled. Amidst the destruction, a single biobed remained relatively intact, its diagnostic panel still glowing with power.


    As Tyson approached, he saw that the bed held the motionless form of a Vulcan woman. Though outdated compared to 2360s technology, the biobed appeared functional. Tyson recognized the angular features and severe bowl-cut hairstyle of the bed''s occupant. It was Sub-commander T''Pol, an important figure in the early days of Starfleet. Slender, wiry muscles lined T''Pol''s frame. Her pointed ears curved up in the distinctive Vulcan fashion. She looked fragile lying motionless on the biobed, her eyes closed as if in sleep. Assuming Tyson''s meta-knowledge held, she was in the early stages of Trellium poisoning, which caused increasing paranoia and aggression in Vulcans as it damaged their neural pathways. If left untreated, it would eventually destroy all higher brain functions, reducing its victims to corrupted, zombie-like figures he''d been fighting.


    Glancing over at his companion, Tyson saw Counselor Troi standing back from the biobed, her body language matched the sense he was getting from his empathy, discomfort. He turned to her and asked gently, "Are you doing okay, Counselor? You haven''t been very active. It almost seems like you aren''t having fun."


    If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.


    Troi chuckled ruefully, a faint smile touching her lips. "I''m going to be honest, I didn''t enjoy combat training at Starfleet Academy."


    Tyson nodded understandingly. "I was going to carry T''Pol back to the shuttle. When we get there, if you''d prefer, I can finish this mission on my own. I''m rather enjoying it."


    "I''m glad you''re having fun," Troi replied, nodding in acquiescence. "I think I''ll take you up on that offer. I''ll have the computer notify me when you''re finished, but remember we have a staff meeting in a few hours. If you take too long, I''ll come back and drag you out."


    Tyson noticed the still form of the MACO captain Archer had mentioned. The man lay amidst the wreckage, his uniform was tattered and his body unmoving. Tyson approached and knelt beside him, searching for any signs of life, but found none. The MACO was dead. However, his particle rifle lay nearby, having fallen from his grasp.


    Tyson lifted the rifle gingerly, turning it this way and that as he inspected it. The weapon felt solid and deceptively light in his hands.


    He looked to Counselor Troi and asked, "Would you prefer the gun, ma''am?"


    Troi made an indelicate snorting sound at the offer. "It''s a little larger than what I''m used to, but I think I can handle it," she replied wryly.


    "That''s what she said," Tyson quipped without thinking.


    Troi regarded him steadily for several long seconds as his snarky reply hung between them. But then she laughed. "That''s quite funny," Troi said, dark eyes twinkling with amusement.


    Tyson chuckled along with her, relief flooding through him. "It''s a classic where I''m from," he explained, flashing a lopsided smile.


    Grinning, Tyson turned and headed back to the biobed where the unconscious Vulcan woman lay. He hauled T''Pol up onto his shoulder in a fireman''s carry, eliciting a soft groan from her limp form. Troi was already at the medbay doors, the particle rifle looking natural in her hands despite her earlier protests. She wielded the weapon with an ease betraying her Starfleet training, making it clear she wasn''t nearly as rusty as she claimed. Rifle at the ready, Troi led the way out. Tyson followed with T''Pol''s slender body draped over his shoulders, hoping the counselor knew how to use that weapon if needed.


    Tyson stepped out into the corridor with the limp form of T''Pol draped unceremoniously across his broad shoulders. No sooner had he emerged than the shuffling forms of two corrupted Vulcans lurched into view. They were same two he had incapacitated during their earlier trip to the medbay. Now reanimated, they shambled toward Tyson and Troi with outstretched hands and vacant stares.


    Troi''s grip tightened on the bulky particle rifle in her hands as she stepped up to meet the threat. With an expert flick of her wrist, she snapped the rifle into position and squeezed the trigger. A brilliant lance of energy erupted from the emitter, striking the lead Vulcan square in the chest. It let out a serpentine hiss as the beam staggered its advance, but did not drop the creature. Troi''s dark eyes narrowed, realizing the power settings were too low. Her fingers danced across the controls, dialing up the intensity. She took aim once more and fired. This time the beam speared directly into the Vulcan''s torso in a burst of heat and light. It collapsed to the deck boneless, a gentle wisp of smoke rise from its motionless form.


    Whipping the rifle towards the second creature, Troi fired again without hesitation. The shot caught the Vulcan on its left shoulder, dropping it instantly before it could shamble another step.


    Tyson let loose a low, appreciative whistle as he shifted T''Pol''s slender weight across his shoulders. "You''ve been holding out on me, Counselor," he remarked, one eyebrow raised in appraisal of her unexpected skill.


    A hint of pink flushed Troi''s dusky cheeks as she met Tyson''s gaze. The barest trace of a smile turned up the corners of her full lips. "Maybe a little," she admitted coyly. Without another word passing between them, Tyson and Troi set off down the corridor, ready to face whatever other threats might bar their way. Troi kept the rifle poised in her steady hands, prepared to cut down any more of the corrupted Vulcans that crossed their path.


    With T''Pol''s limp form draped across his shoulders, Tyson quickly realized the fireman''s carry would be impossible on the narrow confines of the ladder. At five foot seven and a mere one hundred thirty pounds, T''Pol was dwarfed by Tyson''s larger frame. Thanks to the Best of the Best Perk, he stood at six foot six and tipped the scales at two hundred fifty pounds of solid muscle. Carefully, he shifted her into a makeshift bridal carry, cradling the unconscious woman against his chest. Her head lolled back, silky brunette hair spilling over his arm as her body settled into his embrace.


    Gripping the rungs, Tyson began his descent, hyper-aware of keeping T''Pol balanced in his arms. Each movement was slow and steady as he picked his way down two levels toward the shuttle deck. By some small miracle, he managed to avoid dropping his precious cargo or losing his grip on the metal rungs.


    When another corrupted Vulcan lurched into their path, Troi dispatched it with a squeeze of her trigger, the rifle cracking through the air as easily as swatting a bothersome fly. Tyson didn''t even break stride, his focus solely on the woman cradled protectively against his chest as he carried T''Pol into the shuttle pod. Kneeling down, he laid her gently on the floor and finally released the breath he''d been holding since first hoisting her limp body into his arms.


    Tyson knelt beside T''Pol''s motionless form. He studied her serene features a moment longer before a gentle voice broke the pensive silence.


    "We''ve only got a few hours before the staff meeting, Tyson," Counselor Troi said, "It''s important we''re both there on time." Tyson nodded slowly, acknowledging the counselor''s words. "If you want to leave early, we could swing by the shuttlebay first," Troi suggested, "Or explore other parts of the ship."


    "Thank you, Counselor. But I think I''d prefer to see this program through." he replied, his voice tinged with gratitude and resolve. Troi offered an understanding smile, before passing Tyson the particle rifle and stepping through the arched exit of the holodeck door.


    Tyson was now alone in the holodeck. He stepped back into the Seleya. With Counselor Troi now absent, an opportunity presented itself. He fished out the Access Key from his pocket. Ascending the stairs, he held the Access Key up to the panel beside the bulkhead. The panel made a sound, but it wasn''t the affirmative beep, he''d become accustomed too, this one was clearly the sound of denial. A message appeared on the panel.


    Warning: Entering your Personal Reality from an alternate reality (Star Trek Enterprise) requires an Inter-Reality Connecting Door.


    [-50 RP] Inter-Reality Connecting Door: Star Trek Enterprise Continuity (Personal Reality)


    These doors come in pairs and can connect your Personal Reality and another reality. You may choose to move this door, causing it to appear as a tarot-sized playing card and if placed on a wall it turns into a door. Using the Access Key on one of these doors allows you to turn it back into a card. You must be physically at the location you desire to install it and once installed the Door cannot be removed by anyone or anything lacking an Access Key. As long as these doors exist, they require no key to open and cannot be locked. If you connect an external reality to your Personal Reality through a pair of these doors, that reality is not frozen in time but rather progresses on your Reality''s internal clock, even after you leave it, even if the door is currently closed. Warning: Those on the other side can open the door without your permission, so be careful where you put it.


    Reality Points: 500


    Tyson stood motionless as a ripple of awareness washed over him. Though his physical surroundings remained unchanged, his Cosmic Awareness Perk informed him that reality itself had shifted. The holodeck of the Enterprise-D now overlapped with the interior of the Vulcan ship Seleya, centuries earlier in the universe''s timeline. He occupied the epicenter where these two realities collided, simultaneously present in both.


    This holodeck program had crossed a threshold into true existence. The people and objects populating the simulation, once mere photons and force fields, now lived and breathed with substance. Though the dimensional physics eluded him, Tyson harbored no doubts. The holodeck that had enveloped him, in a playful fiction, had morphed into an alternate history as legitimate as the one he left behind. The holodeck adventure was no longer just a game, it had become real.


    Tyson''s eyes darted around the empty warehouse, taking in the bland expanse beyond the antechamber. Gone were the cold metallic walls and debris-strewn floors of the Vulcan ship Seleya. Through the Inter-Reality Connecting Door, was his Personal Reality, where the air lay still, lacking the constant background hum of a starship''s engines that was becoming commonplace.


    He turned and glanced back at the bulkhead doorway through which he had entered. The knowledge that he could step back through that threshold at any moment and return to the ship was somewhat disorienting. It seemed almost unbelievable that the destroyed interior of a Vulcan vessel and this blank, expansive warehouse could exist side-by-side, separated only by a single door frame.


    In an alcove along one side of the antechamber Tyson spotted a console. He reached out, his fingers manipulating the touch-sensitive controls, interacting with the device. After a few experimental taps and swipes. The console''s screen displayed page after page of upgrade options for his Personal Reality. Tyson scrolled through the extensive list of customization choices and expansions available for purchase, searching for one particular addition that had caught his eye the previous night when he had scanned through the offerings on his PADD. The catalog of modifications had been extensive, but one option had stood out to Tyson due to its obvious value for his current situation.


    [-100 RP] The Medical Bay (Personal Reality)


    This can treat all medical or dental issues on anyone who still has a pulse or equivalent. Provides detailed accounting of a person¡¯s medical history. Will not repair genetic defects or replace/repair cybernetics and cannot differentiate between beneficial and harmful nanites or implants on its own. Works on animals as well. Treatments take anywhere from one hour to a solid week depending on the degree of damage.


    Tyson stood staring at the Medical Bay upgrade hovering before him, scratching his chin as he considered the implications. With the Medical Bay, his Personal Reality could become more than just an empty warehouse. It could be a haven, capable of healing and restoring even the most grievous wounds. After dangerous missions, this place could be a retreat for Tyson to recover. In times of crisis, he could harbor the injured and dying here, possibly right under the noses of his enemies. The tactical and personal benefits were immense. Best of all, the Medical Bay would scale to meet any need. If a hundred injured people came crawling to his door, a hundred healing beds would manifest to meet them.


    Tyson nodded slowly as he contemplated the possibilities before him. This Medical Bay could be invaluable, both for his current predicament and for future missions yet unknown. As for the afflicted Vulcans aboard his ship, while they appeared like the walking dead, they were not actually undead. Trellium had ravaged their nervous systems and higher brain functions, but held no magical properties to reanimate the dead. The Medical Bay''s restorative capabilities could counteract the damage done and return them to health. Saving the Vulcan was not possible with the technology available in the Star Trek Enterprise episode he now found himself reliving. The Medical Bay was their only hope.


    Having contemplated the immense tactical and personal benefits, Tyson nodded resolutely and initiated the purchase sequence. The console in the antechamber beeped and flashed with a green affirmative light, confirming the transaction.


    Reality Points: 400


    Tyson stepped back into the familiar confines of the Seleya. He made his way down the ladder to the shuttle where T''Pol still lay unconscious. With care, he slid his arms under her limp body and lifted, marveling at how light she felt in his grasp. Her head lolled back over his arm, exposing the elegant curve of her neck.


    Vulnerable. Helpless.


    He shook his head tamping down those thoughts. Ascending the ladder with T''Pol in his arms, Tyson crossed back into his Personal Reality. He walked with purpose toward the newly acquired Medical Bay. Stepping through the doorway, he was struck by how closely the facilities mirrored the advanced medical technology found inside the Enterprise''s own sickbay. Along one wall stood a single biobed. The contours of the diagnostic bed were designed to automatically adapt to a patient''s form, ensuring optimal comfort and recovery conditions. An array of monitors and equipment flanked the bed, screens flickering to life as Tyson approached. Around the central biobed, medical instruments, and devices were arranged.


    Gently, Tyson laid T''Pol atop the biobed. Sensors bathed her in a soft blue light, gathering vital statistics as they scanned her unconscious form. Monitors began displaying streams of data. Though modeled on the Enterprise''s sickbay, this Medical Bay held restorative capabilities far beyond the flagship''s facilities. As Tyson watched, T''Pol became wreathed in a gentle glowing aura as the Medical Bay began its healing work.


    Tyson stepped out of the Warehouse and moved down the corridor until he reached the bulkhead console of the Seleya. He held up his Access Key. There was an immediate response. With a faint hum of energy, a card materialized in his grasp; the doorway to his Warehouse winked out of existence, and the grey walls of the Seleya corridor reappeared.


    Tyson examined the card closely. It was about the size of a standard playing card, but he knew it represented something far greater than just paper and ink. Across the top read the title "Inter-Reality Door: Star Trek Enterprise" in bold font. The image on the card depicted the NX Enterprise in flawless detail. The saucer section dominated the foreground, set against an endless starfield. The ship''s glowing blue nacelles pulsed with radiant energy as if it wasn''t a card at all, but a live feed of the ship; it reminded Tyson of the animated portraits in Harry Potter. As he held the card, Tyson could almost feel the power of the inter-reality doorway it signified.


    In that moment, Tyson was keenly aware of the card''s potential. It represented a gateway between his Personal Reality and the universe of Star Trek Enterprise. For now, it was merely an icon rendered on cardstock, but he knew that when activated, it would become a bridge between realities.


    Tyson''s fingers danced across the interface, repeating Troi''s earlier actions, and calling up a three-dimensional map of the Vulcan starship''s corridors and sections. The intricate web glowed before him, each deck and junction rendered in precise, glowing detail. With a few deft inputs, he charted a course that would take him through the entirety of this deck, leaving no section unexplored. The path he traced was strategic and winding, yet finishing near an access hatch that would grant him passage to the next deck. As he finalized the route, Tyson dismissed the interface with a wave of his hand.


    Tyson lifted the helmet that had been forgotten at his belt and turned it over in his hands. Though he doubted she would care, due to his Live and Let Live Perk; without Counselor Troi present, he was free to make full use of the tools at his disposal.


    He slid the helmet over his head. It settled into place with a quiet hiss, the interior padding conforming to match the shape of his skull. At the same moment, a skintight silver suit began spreading across Tyson''s body, deploying from hidden seams in the collar ring of the helmet. In seconds it had encased him completely, like a second skin of quicksilver. An array of subtle readouts flickered to life on the interior display of the helmet.


    The suit would protect him from the vacuum of space, should his route take him through any compromised sections of the ship''s hull. And with the suit''s systems able to copy the map from the Seleya''s panel interface, Tyson had his own copy overlaid on the helmet''s heads-up display.


    In response, a shimmering golden trail materialized on the map, snaking along the planned path. Tyson set off without hesitation, following the glowing trail down the desolate corridors.

 Season 1: Episode 2.2 - Seleya

    Stardate: 41157.0


    NX-01 Enterprise Continuity Date: August 5, 2153


    Earth Standard Date: February 27, 2364


    Location: Seleya, Trellium-D Asteroid Field, Delphic Expanse, Star Trek Enterprise Continuity.


    Tyson stepped out of the Warehouse and moved down the corridor until he reached the bulkhead console of the Seleya. He held up his Access Key and with a faint hum of energy, a card materialized in his grasp. The doorway to his Personal Reality winked out of existence, and the grey walls of the Seleya corridor reappeared.


    Tyson examined the card closely. It was about the size of a standard playing card, but he knew it represented something far greater. Across the top read the title "Inter-Reality Door: Star Trek Enterprise" in bold font. The image on the card depicted the NX Enterprise in flawless detail. The saucer section dominated the foreground, set against an endless starfield. The ship''s glowing blue nacelles pulsed with radiant energy as if it wasn''t a card at all, but a live feed of the ship; it reminded Tyson of the portraits in Harry Potter. The card represented a gateway between his Personal Reality and the universe of Star Trek Enterprise. For now, it was an icon rendered on cardstock, but he knew that when activated, it would expand to become a doorway between realities.


    Tyson''s fingers danced across the interface, repeating Troi''s earlier actions, and calling up a three-dimensional map of the Vulcan starship''s corridors and sections. The map appeared before him, each deck and junction rendered in precise detail. With a few inputs, he charted a course that would take him through the entirety of this deck, leaving no section unexplored. The path he traced was strategic and winding, yet finishing near an access hatch that would grant him passage to the next deck. As he finalized the route, Tyson lifted the helmet that had been forgotten at his belt and turned it over in his hands. Though he doubted she would care, due to his Live and Let Live Perk; without Counselor Troi present, he was free to make full use of the tools at his disposal.


    He slid the helmet over his head. It settled into place with a quiet hiss, the interior padding conforming to match the shape of his skull. At the same moment, a skintight silver suit began spreading across Tyson''s body, deploying from hidden seams in the collar ring of the helmet. In seconds it encased him completely, like a second skin of quicksilver. An array of subtle readouts flickered to life on the interior display of the helmet.


    The suit would protect him from the vacuum of space, should his route take him through any compromised sections of the ship''s hull. And with the suit''s systems able to copy the map from the Seleya''s panel interface, Tyson had his own copy overlaid on the helmet''s heads-up display.


    In response, a shimmering golden trail materialized on the map, snaking along the planned path. Tyson set off without hesitation, following the glowing trail down the corridors.


    The journey had been uneventful for his fires few passageways. Until Tyson''s eyes caught on an erratic, shuffling figure staggering down the corridor ahead. As he drew nearer, the Vulcan''s condition became clear; like the others Tyson had encountered, this one was deeply afflicted by the ravages of Trellium-D poisoning. The Vulcan''s skin had taken on a pallid, ashen hue, practically translucent over the green blood vessels spidering just beneath the surface.


    Tyson shifted his grip on the unfamiliar weight and balance of the Particle Rifle in his hands. Unlike a firearm from Tyson''s original time, particle rifles had no kickback, so the two-handed grip was purely for stabilizing and targeting purposes. Regardless, Tyson knew he would have better aim firing the weapon one-handed, thanks to the Master with Your Hands Perk.


    His first shot rang out, finding its mark, the beam of concentrated particles squarely hitting the Vulcan. The effect was immediate. The Vulcan collapsed limply to the ground, movements ceased, rendered harmless by the rifle''s energy discharge.


    Tyson let out a slow breath, lowering the Particle Rifle. He retrieved the Inter-Reality Door card from his pocket. Pressing it to the wall, the solid surface dissolved, and an impossible doorway took shape.


    Tyson hefted the limp form of the Vulcan over his shoulder. The additional weight felt minor thanks to his enhanced physique. He stepped through the doorway into the Personal Reality''s Medical Bay.


    The room had expanded since his last visit, reshaping itself intuitively to accommodate new patients. T''Pol still occupied the first biobed, her vital signs steady as she rested. Next to her was a second bed with sensors and screens waiting for the Vulcan in Tyson''s arms.


    He lowered the unconscious alien onto the open biobed. It hummed to life instantly, information bursting across the screens as scanners mapped every detail of the new patient. Reassured that both were now in good hands, Tyson allowed himself one last glance at the two still forms before turning to leave.


    The Inter-Reality Door card materialized in his hand as he passed back through the doorway. Behind him, the opening melted away and the wall was solid once more with no evidence left of his passage.


    Tyson continued his solitary journey through the decks of the Vulcan ship. Another encounter marked each corridor, another fight against the affected crew members. Tyson engaged each one, relying on the Particle Rifle and his Perks. He handled the rifle with almost automatic precision. Every shot was intended to incapacitate, not kill. Tyson slipped into a focused rhythm, as he developed a systematic approach to rescuing the afflicted Vulcans. Use the Particle Rifle to disable them, place the Inter-Reality card against the walls of the damaged ship to open a doorway to the Medical Bay, and repeat. One by one, he disabled the aggressive and volatile crew and then carried them through to receive treatment.


    The medical bay adapted with astonishing efficiency to the increasing influx of patients. More biobeds materialized, equipped with advanced diagnostics and therapies tailored to Trellium-D poisoning. Tirelessly, the automated systems scanned, diagnosed, and initiated tailored treatment for each Vulcan that Tyson brought through.


    Tyson had reached the final area of the Vulcan ship. He tensed, muscles coiling in anticipation as the lift doors slid open with a hiss, revealing the scene on the bridge beyond. The small space was packed with no less than nine Vulcans, all displaying the wild, bloodshot eyes and erratic movements that were the hallmarks of Trellium-D poisoning. Tyson''s eyes widened in alarm at their numbers, but before he could react, one of the crazed Vulcans spotted him and let out a guttural cry, lunging towards the open doors. Trapped within the tight confines of the lift, Tyson had nowhere to dodge as the maddened Vulcan rushed in. Acting on pure instinct, Tyson lashed out with a powerful front kick that caught the Vulcan squarely in the chest. The force of the spartan kick sent the Vulcan flying backward, crashing violently into another afflicted crewman who''d been approaching. The two Vulcans tumbled to the deck in a tangled heap of flailing limbs.


    The opening created by Tyson''s big boot allowed him to step fully onto the bridge, though he now found himself surrounded on all sides by the seven other Vulcans. Tyson''s hand went reflexively to the particle rifle slung over his shoulder as he quickly assessed the threats arrayed against him. The Vulcans twitched erratically as they closed in, ready to tear into Tyson with their crazed strength.


    Wasting no time, Tyson brought up the particle rifle and fired off two quick shots. The brilliant energy beams found their marks, striking the pair of Vulcans he''d knocked down with his earlier kick, and ensuring they stayed out of the fight.


    That was two threats neutralized, but danger still lurked on all sides. One of the remaining Vulcans let out an enraged cry and lunged at Tyson. Tyson felt the wind of the blow breeze by his ear as he ducked under it, the Snakeskin perk granting him preternatural agility even in these close quarters.


    He had no time to appreciate his narrow escape. Even as he dodged the first attack, Tyson caught sight of a sudden movement from the corner of his eye; another maddened Vulcan rushing in. Tyson spun on his heel, using his own momentum to stay just out of reach of the hands.


    Tyson''s gaze snapped to the next Vulcan as it shambled toward him. Though still several paces away, Tyson did not hesitate. The particle rifle was already raised and tracking the lumbering target. His finger squeezed the trigger, unleashing a sizzling beam of energy that struck the Vulcan center mass. It collapsed boneless to the deck.


    Three down, but Tyson was still outnumbered. His eyes darted between the remaining Vulcans, mentally counting. He had put down three, and could see five more¡­ but had initially spotted nine? The math didn''t add up. Before he could wonder at the discrepancy further, a powerful blow slammed into his back, catapulting him forward. He sprawled hard onto the unforgiving deck, the particle rifle skittering away across the floor, well out of reach.


    Cursing under his breath, Tyson scrambled to regain his feet. He wheeled to face his new assailant. This Vulcan moved far more fluidly, and its gaze remained sharper, focused in a way that set Tyson''s nerves on edge. The Vulcan had a robust physique and an awareness that suggested the Trellium-D had impacted him far less than his shambling companions, whether by sheer force of will or some inherent resistance. Tyson knew taking this one down would be a more difficult task. This Vulcan was a significant leap up the threat scale from the lumbering adversaries he had faced thus far.


    Tyson''s eyes darted between the threatening Vulcan and the other foes still stalking toward him. The odds were decidedly not in his favor; unarmed, outnumbered, and facing such a formidable opponent.


    His thoughts clicked into place as he plotted his next moves. He knew he had to keep the Vulcans within his line of sight at all times, especially the one who had hurled him halfway across the bridge with contemptuous ease. To lose track of an enemy so dangerous could prove disastrous.


    The throw had knocked Tyson toward the center of the bridge, sending his particle rifle to the far end of the bridge, well out of reach. He needed that rifle back in his hands if he hoped to regain any semblance of control over this engagement. He would have to work his way across the bridge with the utmost care, maneuvering the Vulcans into positions that kept them squarely in front of him where he could track their every movement. That would minimize the chances of another surprise attack like the one that had put him in this precarious position, and give Tyson the tactical advantage he desperately needed to handle the threat. It was an old tactic he had learned in the online games of his past life.


    Kiting.


    A controlled retreat that kept your opponents chasing you, while you carefully moved out of their reach, attacking from range. It wouldn''t work as well on thinking enemies, or those with special attacks. But the Vulcans had yet to demonstrate any real tactical skill beyond that possible sneak attack; if it had even been intentional and not simply Tyson failing to observe his surroundings closely enough.


    Tyson''s fingers twitched toward the hilt of his Laser Sword, but he resisted the urge to draw the weapon just yet. He had no desire to kill these Vulcans. Tyson had made real progress in helping the Vulcan crew heal. Perhaps it was stubbornness that stayed his hand, but so far he had managed without resorting to the glowing energy blade. And now, with his goal so close at hand, Tyson was reluctant to abandon that approach. Better to try to regain the particle rifle first. But if the Vulcans pressed their attack and left him no other option, he''d draw the Laser Sword.


    Tyson feinted left then darted right, gauging their reactions. The Vulcans turned in eerie unison, focused wholly on him. He circled the bridge''s perimeter, the aliens pivoting to follow his progress. The Vulcan that tossed him, who he mentally marked as their ''Captain'', tracked him with an unnerving intensity, a cold menace in his alien eyes. Tyson kept the captain squarely in his sights. He drew nearer his rifle, the Vulcans trailing his movements closing in on Tyson, surrounding him, boxing him in. His ploy was working so far.


    Tyson realized that the distance between him and the Particle Rifle was too great to cover at his current pace, especially with the Vulcans advancing from the other side of the bridge.


    With a burst of speed born from necessity, Tyson dashed across the bridge, his eyes fixed on the location of his fallen rifle. As he neared the weapon, he launched himself into a diving roll. The world seemed to blur as he tumbled, his hand stretching out in anticipation.


    Tyson''s fingers closed around the familiar weight of the particle rifle as he rolled, the weapon a reassuring presence in his grip. However, the complexity of the maneuver and the need for haste meant he could not immediately rise with it aimed and ready. Instead, he maintained a firm hold as he completed the roll, regaining his feet with the rifle secured.


    Now armed but not yet able to effectively utilize the weapon, Tyson faced the immediate challenge of the two Vulcans who had been closing in. With little room for error, he relied on his Snakeskin perk, executing a series of evasive maneuvers designed to split the Vulcans. Bobbing and weaving with the rifle held tight, each step and turn was made with the goal of creating the space and time required to bring the rifle to bear.


    Rifle in hand, as Tyson cleared the group, he spun on the ball of his foot to face his foes head-on. The Vulcans had unwittingly arranged themselves in a group ripe for Tyson''s counterattack.


    Time to kite.


    The lucid Vulcan, whom Tyson labeled as the ''Captain'' stood foremost among them, his dark eyes boring into Tyson''s. Tyson met that stare and raised his rifle. He squeezed the trigger, sending brilliant lances of particle energy flashing across the bridge. The first two shots scorched black lines across the captain''s abdomen. The third seared its shoulder. At last, the fourth and fifth shots struck home, burning the Vulcan captain''s chest. The captain uttered a strangled cry and collapsed to the deck.


    Tyson stepped backward, keeping the remaining Vulcans centered in his sights as he continued his measured retreat. He fired again and again, dropping the Vulcans where they stood.


    You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.


    Soon the steady hum of the ship''s engines and the muted breathing of the defeated Vulcans was the only sound to break the silence on the ravaged bridge. Tyson drew a steadying breath and moved to make certain his work was complete. Tyson set up the interdimensional doorway to his Personal Reality. One by one, he hauled the unconscious Vulcans through the door. With each trip, another still body joined the rows of biobeds lining the walls. Tyson took care in settling his unconscious charges. By the time he laid the Captain on the final biobed, the tally had reached one hundred and forty-eight.


    Tyson surveyed his work, equal parts impressed and sobered by the sight. He was certain that with the Medical Bay, the Vulcans would recover from their injuries, but for now, they rested motionless as the dead.


    Tyson grabbed the PADD that sat near the entrance of the medical bay. As he began browsing through the interface, he noticed several new options that had not been there previously. His eyes widened as the realization dawned on him. The available Perks and Drawbacks had changed, specifically tailored to the universe of Star Trek Enterprise, which he currently inhabited. He began to explore the new options. Tyson had a new Origin to select, so he perused the Perks to decide what the best Origin would be.


    Operations/Command


    Tactical


    Science


    [100 CP] Secret Agent


    [100 CP] Bad Guy


    Operations/Command, Tactical, and Science Origins all represented different departments aboard Starfleet starships. Unlike his previous options for Origins, two of them, Secret Agent and Bad Guy both had a CP cost associated with them. As Tyson looked over the Perks, he understood why those two had an additional cost; their Perks were outright better, and Bad Guy was clearly the better of the two. What Tyson needed to decide was if the 100 CP initial cost and the discounts on the associated perks were worthwhile. Since the Perks in the Enterprise universe didn''t seem that good, outside of the Bad Guy offers, it might be better to just save the points and grab the free origin with the best starter perk.


    [Free (Discounted)] Everything Is A Weapon (Perk)


    You understand how to weaponize everything from tractor beams to just having a tough hull so your ship can survive ramming. Any skills you have can be turned into some combat use or emphasis, like using physics to design superweapons, medicine to make bioweapons, and the like.


    [-200 CP (Discounted)] Pheromones (Perk)


    You exude chemical scent cues that make members of the opposite sex attracted to and highly protective of you. Eventually, exposure makes them highly suggestible, and the longer they¡¯re exposed, the more vulnerable they become to you. This does not work on people not attracted to your physical sex, Vulcans, or anything that differs too far from the humanoid body plan, like Tholians, Horta, or energy beings.


    [-300 CP (Discounted)] Augment (Perk)


    You are a member of your species perfected through genetic engineering. You are roughly five times stronger, more agile, and more durable than your baseline species, and live twice as long. Your senses are enhanced, you are immune to most diseases and toxins, and have much stronger and more efficient hearts and lungs. Most impressively, you are resistant to most energy weapons, taking only moderate wounds from kill shots and multiple or sustained stun-fire to put down. Your blood can be used to synthesize cures for most diseases and in some cases revive the dead, and your intellect is greatly increased, most especially your ability to learn new information and master new skills, which is ten times quicker than it would normally take. Required: Must take Outlawed Drawback.


    [+200 CP] Outlawed (Drawback)


    Whether you¡¯re a Human Augment, a Vulcan telepath, an Aenar, or a Suliban on Planet Gitmo, your very existence is now an offense against your species and/or starting world, and they will be all too happy to arrest or even kill you if they discover who and what you are.


    [Free (Discounted)] Agony Booth (Item)


    A transparent cylinder large enough to stand in and tough enough to keep a person confined. Can stimulate nerves to cause unimaginable pain to any prisoner contained within.


    [Free (Discounted)] Cloaking Minefield (Item)


    Hundreds of space mines equipped with cloaking devices, perfect for area control. Refills annually.


    Tyson recalled the conversation in sickbay after he had first arrived on the Enterprise. Dr. Crusher''s probing questions about genetic augmentations made more sense in hindsight. The doctor''s suspicions explained why Worf, a formidable Klingon warrior, had been ordered to escort him to sickbay. Picard would want his strongest security officer present if he believed Tyson might be an illegal augment.


    Humans harbored an ingrained fear of augments dating back centuries to the Eugenics Wars. The pointed questions Tyson had been asked about his time period''s history were likely tied to the same concerns. In the time of the Enterprise-D, even though hundreds of years after the Eugenics Wars, genetic enhancements remained outlawed in the Federation. Being forced to take the Outlawed Drawback to accompany the Augment Perk made sense. If he selected the Perk and his enhancements were ever discovered, he would instantly become a target.


    Tyson needed to decide if the risk was worth the reward.


    Pheromones was also a powerful perk to consider. In the Star Trek universe, there existed a race known as the Orions. Orions were green-skinned humanoids, the women were universally beautiful and the men hulking. When humans first encountered the Orions, the women appeared to be slaves, sold and traded among the men and other species. But it was revealed that the Orion women were actually the ones in charge, cunningly using their beauty and wiles to manipulate. Some Orion women possessed powerful pheromones which allowed them to control the men around them, the women only posing as slaves while secretly directing their ''masters''. If Tyson took the Pheromones perk for himself, he would gain this same ability to influence women, through the secreted chemicals.


    Tyson weighed the options before him. The pheromonal control offered tantalizing possibilities, but also dangerous temptations. Though the thought of such influence made the power tempting, Tyson hesitated to choose it.


    He tapped his chin, considering. Taking all the Perks would run him 400 CP, a significant chunk. Going with just Augment for now would only set him back 200 CP. Tyson acknowledged the value there but decided prudence was the order of the day. Best to see what Drawbacks might offset the cost before making a final purchase. Tyson was nothing if not shrewd with his points. The lure of power pulled at him, but he remained focused on optimizing his build. There would be time enough later to indulge.


    [+100 CP] Blood Fever (Drawback)


    Cuts the amount of time between chemical imbalances from Hybrid/Amok Time Drawback in half. Now, once every three months, you will have emotional outbursts followed by extreme desire, fever and death unless you procreate or at least make a damned good attempt¡­ Or kill a worthy opponent in single combat.


    Tyson considered each available Drawback carefully, weighing the potential benefits against the costs. Most were simply too extreme for his tastes, the handicaps and vulnerabilities too severe or inconvenient to justify the CP they''d grant. Blood Fever amplified his Amok Time Drawback, making it the only one he considered. The effects of Amok Time seemed manageable so far. During his fighting against the Vulcans, he had felt no undue battle rage. And the presence of Deanna Troi and T''Pol had sparked no untoward urges. Perhaps the Drawback''s impact would worsen as his time under its effects progressed, but for now, it appeared a fair trade for the discount.


    Only one Perk had him unsure, Pheromones, due to the moral implication rather than its pragmatic power vs cost consideration. Tyson considered it fitting that a perk that bent women to his will was discounted under the Bad Guy Origin. Tyson shook his head, dismissing the insidious Perk. He needed no chemical tricks to sway the opposite sex and had no wish to impose himself on any unwilling women. Besides, he had an amazing physique, he''d already caught Troi checking him out. If that wasn''t enough to attract women, he should probably find a Perk that improved his personality.


    His choices made, Tyson confidently purchased the Origin Bad Guy, and received Everything Is A Weapon Perk free. He chose the Augment Perk and accepted the Outlawed, and Blood Fever Drawbacks. He was rewarded with two free Items, the Agony Booth torture device, and Cloaking Minefield.


    Character Points: 1550


    Tyson felt a surge of energy course through his body as he accepted the Augment Perk. It was as if every cell had been supercharged, thrumming with newfound vitality. His muscles tensed, fibers contracting with explosive power he had never experienced before. Tyson clenched his fists, marveling at the sheer strength contained within. His senses heightened in tandem with his strength. Tyson''s vision sharpened, each detail of the medical bay snapping into hyper-focused clarity. He could make out the finest textures, the most minute blemishes, and imperfections that had previously escaped his notice. The air carried a richer bouquet of scents; the faint tang of disinfectant, the recycled oxygen with its metallic undertone, and even the scents of the unconscious Vulcans. Each aroma seemed amplified tenfold, not quite overwhelming, controlled yet wondrous. Tyson''s hearing followed suit, attuning to the quietest sounds. He detected the faint whirring of the biobeds, even the soft exhalations of the comatose Vulcans.


    Thoughts and calculations blazed through new pathways forged by the Augment''s genetic restructuring affecting his brain. Tyson''s intellect expanded, and his reasoning capacity elevated to dizzying new heights. Along with it, his spatial awareness heightened as well. He could sense the precise positioning of every object in the room, their locations and vectors mapped out with uncanny accuracy in his mind''s eye. His sense of balance and agility amplified. Even at rest, Tyson could feel the coiled potential thrumming through his form, ready to unleash in a blur of speed and finesse.


    Despite the rush of sensory information, Tyson''s mind remained clear and focused. His thoughts organized themselves with machine-like efficiency, processing the deluge of new stimuli without being overwhelmed. He breathed deeply, allowing the maelstrom of enhanced senses to wash over him as his mind adapted.


    Tyson had known about Augments enhanced senses and capabilities, and had seen their portrayal in the Star Trek shows and movies. Of course, he''d known of their physical and mental superiority over normal humans. But no amount of theoretical knowledge could have prepared him for the reality of experiencing such profound sensations firsthand. What he was experiencing was intoxicating, beyond anything he could have imagined. Yet even as he reveled in his newfound abilities, a part of Tyson remained grounded. The Augments had brought terror and war to Earth through their arrogance and hunger for dominance. Their legacy had made Tyson''s very existence illegal in both eras he''d visited.


    But as Tyson flexed his fingers, marveling at the corded strength rippling beneath his skin, he knew why. It wasn''t a question of if he was now superior. There was no doubt, compared to how he was moments ago¡­


    He was superior.


    But the difference was, that Augments were born Augments. Tyson was not. He knew what it had been like to be human. He''d lived a life as a human¡­ and according to Q had died. As a human. He would not make the same mistakes as those who came before. He was no conqueror or tyrant. But with these enhancements, he would be able to achieve his objectives.


    Whatever they might be.


    Tyson turned his attention to the Companion section, contemplating his options.


    [+100 CP] Recruiting Station


    With a small ¡°buy-in¡± of points, you can recruit as many canon characters as are willing to come to be your companions and follow you on future adventures.


    Tyson knew that if he could somehow convince T''Pol to join him on his journey, it would cost him nothing. However, he also wouldn''t gain any CP to improve or enhance her abilities. The Recruiting Station was the only real choice that would allow Tyson to recruit unlimited canon characters, but it was an enigma. Unlike everything else he had seen so far, the description did not define what type of improvement the Recruiting Station was. He expected it to be classified as either an Item or a Personal Reality addition but found no such label. Tyson narrowed his eyes in suspicion. Q''s advice echoed in his mind.


    Read every Perk and Drawback description carefully before purchasing.


    The lack of a detailed description of the Recruiting Station made him uneasy. At worst, Tyson assumed the station would simply appear wherever purchased, allowing him to recruit any canon characters for his journey. But with the option not having been available previously, it stood to reason the station would be limited to the characters of the Enterprise Universe, and not those of The Next Generation, where he''d arrived. In that case, was it worth the cost? Was T''Pol worth recruiting for 100 cp? Maybe. Was there anyone else in the Enterprise universe that stood out in Tyson''s memories? Not particularly. Their knowledge of technology and the galaxy would be centuries out of date in the Next Generation era. Hoshi was perhaps the most impressive with her ability to decipher languages, but that skill had been replaced with the universal translator.


    Tyson remained unconvinced, especially considering the Recruiting Station offered no CP Stipends for recruit companions. And he wouldn''t risk even 100 CP on an uncertain description.


    His musings were interrupted as a stir of movement drew his eye. T''Pol sat up abruptly, completely healed thanks to the Medical Bay, but she was clearly disoriented.


    ¡ª Star Jumper ¡ª


    Tyson


    Origins: Human, Humanoid, Drop-In, Space Pirate, Bad Guy


    Race: Augment Human-Betazoid (Hybrid)


    Character Points: 1550


    Reality Points: 400


    Credits: 0


    Status Effects: (none)


    Drawbacks:


    Gauntlet (Locked)


    Ensign Marty Stu


    A Simple Re¡¯Q¡¯uest


    Hybrid (Betazoid)


    Amok Time/Blood Fever


    Outlawed


    Perks:


    Cosmic Awareness


    Out of Nowhere


    Going Native


    Live and Let Live


    This is (Not?) Rocket Science


    Kinda Bland


    Determinator


    Painted On


    Snakeskin


    Adaptable


    Duelist


    Master with your Hands


    Best of the Best


    Everything Is A Weapon


    Augment


    Items:


    Laser Blade


    Spacesuit


    Agony Booth


    Cloaking Minefield


    Personal Reality:


    Access Key


    Security System


    Inter-Reality Connecting Door (Star Trek Enterprise)


    Medical Bay


    Spaceships:


    Tramp Freighter

 Season 1: Episode 2.3 - Blood Fever

    Episode 2.3 - Blood Fever


    Galactic Date: 41157.2


    NX-01 Enterprise Continuity Date: August 5, 2153


    Earth Standard Date: February 27, 2364


    Location: Medical Bay, Personal Reality


    Tyson strove to project an air of normalcy as he approached the rousing Subcommander T''Pol. Keeping his tone balanced between concern and nonchalance, he inquired "Subcommander T''Pol, how are you feeling?" He hoped to ease any disorientation the Vulcan officer might feel upon waking in such unfamiliar surroundings.


    T''Pol''s voice was steady, betraying no hint of the strangeness of her situation. "I appear unharmed but confused. Can you tell me where I am?" Her dark eyes swept the medical bay, analyzing and assessing with cool calculation.


    "I''m Recruit Tyson," he introduced himself. "Captain Archer tasked me with rescuing you from the Vulcan cruiser Seleya. You were on an away mission when the ship became stranded in an asteroid field saturated with Trellium-D. Dr. Phlox discovered the compound has adverse neurological effects on Vulcans." He gestured to the rows of biobeds stretching to the far wall, filled with the motionless forms of the Seleya''s crew. "I brought you and the rest of the crew here, to the Medical Bay within my facility, for treatment."


    T''Pol nodded almost imperceptibly as she processed this information, the faintest furrowing of her brow the only outward sign of her unease. "What is the status of the Seleya?" she inquired, her voice still admirably even.


    Tyson let a hint of regret color his words. "I''m afraid its status likely remains unchanged since your arrival. I lack the skills to initiate any repairs on a Vulcan ship, and with my inability to read your language, I could not interpret the ship''s interfaces well enough to verify her systems."


    T''Pol''s gaze swept back to study Tyson intently. "How did you manage to incapacitate and transport this many crew members?"


    Tyson allowed the barest hint of a smile to touch his lips. ¡°Mostly with a lot of dodging and a Particle Rifle,¡± he said lightly, though his joke elicited no reaction from T''Pol. ¡°But to reiterate, exposure to Trellium-D causes neurodegeneration in Vulcans. Pardon the comparison, but battling the Seleya¡¯s afflicted crew was akin to fighting wild animals. They engaged in no tactics or strategy, falling easily for simple tricks.¡± He dropped his light tone, shifting his priority to easing T¡¯Pol''s evident disorientation and providing her with the information she clearly needed. ¡°If you are feeling recovered enough, I would be pleased for you to join me.¡±


    T¡¯Pol''s gaze grew distant, her dark eyes taking on a faraway look as she processed new information that had somehow seeded itself into her thoughts. "It seems I possess knowledge that was not present before," she said at last. "This is your Personal Reality." She paused a moment longer, fitting the pieces together.


    "You extended an invitation for me to join you as a Companion," T''Pol continued, her words heavy with the weight of decision.


    When Tyson had asked T''Pol to accompany him, he had meant only literally; to join him in leaving the Medical Bay, returning to the Seleya, and then proceeding onward to the shuttle pod. But something in his offer had carried an unintended nuance, connecting it to the possibility of her becoming his Companion. He adapted to the circumstance and replied with simple sincerity, "I did."


    Tyson made a mental note to be more thoughtful and precise with his words and intentions moving forward. Though the prospect of having T''Pol as a Companion interested him, he had not meant to broach that subject so directly or soon. For now, he set aside his inward chastisement and focused wholly on T''Pol, subtly studying her body language and analyzing what it might signify within Vulcan etiquette. Observing the way she held her posture and the cadence of her speech.


    T''Pol considered his words carefully, her expression impassive. Though she was adept at concealing her emotions, Tyson thought he detected a hint of skepticism.


    "While I appreciate you rescuing the Seleya crew and myself, I sense that I am not obligated to accept your offer," she finally replied, "Why should I leave the Enterprise behind and join you?"


    Tyson knew he needed to tread carefully. Vulcans valued logic above all else. He chose his next words with care, hoping to appeal to her rational side. "I understand your hesitation," he began slowly. "Allow me to explain further. I am what you might consider a dimensional traveler. I come from a future several hundred years beyond your current timeframe."


    "The Vulcan Science Directorate has determined that time travel is impossible," T''Pol stated evenly.


    Tyson chuckled lightly, amused by the familiar words he recalled her stating on the television show. "In that case, perhaps it''s simpler to say I come from a dimension running parallel to your own, though temporally shifted," he offered instead, sidestepping the issue of time altogether.


    "In the version of events I''m familiar with, you were never stranded on the Seleya," he continued. "You escaped with Captain Archer. The ship was destroyed, though all other hands were lost. Without my intervention here, you likely would have perished along with the rest of her crew." He held up a hand, hoping to forestall any response. "Please don''t misunderstand, I don''t mean to hold your rescue over you or incur some perceived life debt. I know you are an intelligent, resourceful woman. I would be honored to have you as a Companion by my side, but the choice is entirely yours."


    Tyson met her gaze earnestly, hoping she understood his sincerity. "I possess the ability to traverse between dimensions as needed. You could remain here, serving your duties on the Enterprise, and join me during your discretionary hours if you so choose. Perhaps I could even assist on your missions, should the need for my help arise again."


    "I offer companionship, T''Pol, not servitude," he said gently. "I would be your Companion as much as you would be mine. The decision is yours alone; no obligations, only possibilities."


    He fell silent then, watching her closely. T''Pol gazed back at him impassively, giving no indication of her thoughts. The moment stretched between them, tense and uncertain.


    T''Pol considered the man''s extraordinary proposition, her expression neutral as was characteristic of her Vulcan heritage. She weighed the variables at play.


    "Your offer is...unprecedented," she finally replied, choosing her words carefully. Though the Vulcan Science Directorate did not currently recognize dimensional travel as feasible, the evidence of Tyson''s timely intervention, the esoteric knowledge she had been granted, and the formidable capabilities he had demonstrated warranted thoughtful consideration.


    "Your actions to assist us are duly noted, and it is only logical to extend gratitude for such efforts," she continued evenly. "However, the decision to join you as a Companion, as I understand it, is not one to be made lightly. There are many factors to analyze, including the potential impact on my current responsibilities aboard the Enterprise, and to the Vulcan High Command." Despite being noncommittal, T''Pol''s keen analytical mind recognized the potential strategic advantages of Tyson''s extraordinary offer. As she steepled her fingers thoughtfully, she added, "The ability to traverse dimensions could prove useful. Such an advantage would be beneficial in a crisis."


    T''Pol was nothing if not pragmatic. She saw potential in this man''s unusual talents that warranted judicious exploration. "Therefore, I propose a provisional period of collaboration," she continued in her signature monotone. "This would facilitate a more comprehensive evaluation of the practical applications of your dimensional travel capabilities, as well as the dynamics of this proposed companionship."


    "I find that arrangement perfectly acceptable," Tyson responded amiably. "Perhaps our first joint mission can be returning to the Enterprise. Though we are currently within my Personal Reality, the gateway connecting it to your dimension is located aboard the Seleya, still adrift in the Trellium asteroid field the ship is stranded in." He furrowed his brow. "We won''t be truly safe until we leave the region."


    T''Pol considered the proposal. "Your suggestion is logical," she affirmed at last. "Returning to the Enterprise and ensuring we are safely clear of the asteroid field is a prudent course of action. I concur with your plan."


    T''Pol followed Tyson briskly from the medical bay and through the dimensional doorway, returning once more to the ship''s utilitarian bridge. When Tyson transformed the doorway back into its card form with a flick of his wrist, T''Pol''s eyebrow arched ever so slightly in what passed for Vulcan intrigue. She was clearly fascinated by the implications and applications of such remarkable technology.


    As they navigated the sparse halls toward the shuttle pod bay, an atmosphere of cautious collaboration settled between them. T''Pol remained alert for any signs of deception or danger, while Tyson exuded an air of hopeful optimism about their tentative alliance.


    "Do you know how to pilot this shuttlepod?" Tyson asked as they entered the compact vessel.


    "I do," T''Pol replied succinctly, her voice clipped and precise, leaving no room for doubt regarding her capabilities.


    "I can fly any spacecraft," Tyson remarked earnestly, not exaggerating thanks to his Perk.


    T''Pol interpreted his statement as human boasting, "Perhaps a volatile asteroid field strewn with treacherous debris is not the optimal location to prove your piloting skills," she pragmatically observed, highlighting the dangers surrounding them.


    Tyson''s face fell almost imperceptibly, a flicker of disappointment crossing his features at the logical advice. However, T''Pol continued diplomatically, "Once we have navigated beyond the hazardous asteroids, I can provide instruction on piloting the shuttlepod." Her concession acknowledged Tyson''s evident interest in learning while proposing a safer setting for such education. Tyson''s smile returned at the prospect.


    T''Pol gestured toward the auxiliary chair with an elegant sweep of her hand. "Take your position here," she instructed. As Tyson settled gingerly into the seat, T''Pol began calmly explaining the fundamentals of the shuttle''s sensor array systems.


    "The sensors are crucial for navigation, especially in treacherous environments such as this asteroid field," she lectured patiently. Her slim fingers danced across the console, highlighting various functions and readings to illustrate her points. "They provide real-time data on spatial anomalies, debris, and celestial bodies. You must learn to accurately interpret this information to navigate safely."


    T''Pol''s focus shifted to the comm system, and she continued the lesson. She walked Tyson through the process of initializing a standard hailing frequency, demonstrating each step in crisp detail. "You simply enter the proper sequence here," she indicated the appropriate controls, "which opens the channel." Her slender fingers danced across the panel as she highlighted the various switches and inputs. "And these controls," she went on, indicating a separate bank of switches on the comm station, "allow you to filter out frequency interference." She explained that such interference was common in a dense asteroid field like the one that surrounded them. Throughout the tutorial on the shuttle''s critical systems, T''Pol''s instruction ensured Tyson grasped not only the technical steps but the reasons behind them.


    When she was satisfied her pupil had absorbed the lesson, T''Pol settled into the pilot''s seat and initiated the shuttle''s pre-flight sequence. The engines rumbled to life, their thrumming power reverberating through the compact cabin. Tyson turned his attention to the comm station, keying the transmitter. "Shuttle Pod to Enterprise," he called out, announcing their impending departure. "This is Recruit Tyson. Sub-Commander T''Pol is with me, and we are preparing to leave the asteroid field now." Message sent, he swiveled in his chair to monitor the sensor readout, scrutinizing the data with newly discerning eyes. T''Pol''s insights were still fresh in his mind, and he worked to interpret the information accurately.


    Behind him, the rear hatch sealed with a decisive hiss, cocooning them within the shuttle''s armored shell. With an expert touch, T''Pol nudged the small craft away from the crippled Seleya and turned it toward the ominous asteroid field looming beyond. As she guided their course into the perilous maze of tumbling rocks, Tyson kept a close watch on his sensor display. He tracked their trajectory through the field, calling out any dangers he spotted. "Asteroid at mark three-one-seven," he warned.


    T''Pol''s slim fingers danced across the shuttle''s controls in response, adjusting their course with subtle maneuvers. "Compensating," she responded. They fell into an easy rhythm, Tyson tracking each threat while T''Pol reacted with feather-light touches on the controls, guiding them between the drifting rocks. "Large mass, mark two-two-four," Tyson cautioned, never taking his eyes from the sensor readout. Together, they piloted the shuttle through the treacherous field, slicing between tumbling asteroids on their journey back to the Enterprise.


    T''Pol acknowledged Tyson''s course correction. "Altering pitch fifteen degrees starboard."


    Despite the looming asteroids surrounding them, Tyson felt himself relaxing, trusting in T''Pol''s expert skill to pilot the shuttlepod through the treacherous field. Together they wove between the tumbling rocks, T''Pol reacting with feather-light touches on the controls while Tyson tracked each new threat on the sensor readout. They fell into an easy rhythm working in tandem.


    With a final burst of speed, the shuttle pod broke free of the asteroid field into open space. The immediate danger passed, and T''Pol decided it was time to make good on her earlier promise to instruct Tyson in piloting the craft.


    "Tyson, please join me," she said, motioning to the empty pilot''s seat beside her. The urgency of their escape had faded, allowing her to shift focus to teaching. Tyson slid into the seat as T''Pol began patiently walking him through the fundamentals of controlling the shuttle.


    "This is the helm control," she explained, her slender hands gliding gracefully over the console. "It directs the shuttle''s heading."


    She continued methodically detailing each control and its function, her tone cool and instructional. "The impulse drive throttle here controls our speed. You''ll need a gentle touch. Shuttle pods are highly responsive to pilot input."


    With the lessons now complete, it was time for Tyson to apply what T''Pol had taught him. "I will monitor your progress, but you must now set a course back to the Enterprise," T''Pol instructed.


    Tyson turned his attention to the shuttle controls and focused intently on the task at hand. He had paid close attention during T''Pol''s concise but thorough instructions, and now it was his turn to put those lessons into practice. T''Pol watched closely over his shoulder as Tyson''s hands moved over the console, ready to offer guidance if needed.


    But her new pupil showed promise, carefully configuring the shuttle''s course toward the distant starship. T''Pol ordered, "Adjust the heading to 047 mark 115."


    Tyson''s hands moved swiftly over the console, aligning the shuttle onto the correct trajectory to rendezvous with the Enterprise''s current position. With the course set, T''Pol shifted her focus to the next critical task. Docking procedures. "Approaching a starship requires precision and patience," she noted, her words steady and measured. "As we near the Enterprise, reduce speed and align the shuttle''s docking port with the designated bay."


    Tyson complied, keeping one eye on the viewscreen as the Enterprise grew larger, its vast bulk dwarfing the compact shuttle. Careful adjustments at the controls brought their speed down to a crawl. The shuttle glided smoothly into position, guided by T''Pol''s instructions.


    "Initiate docking sequence when within range," T''Pol continued, her gaze intent on the approaching starship. "The shuttle''s systems will engage automatically, but you must be prepared to make manual adjustments if necessary."


    Tyson''s hand hovered over the docking controls. At T''Pol''s nod, he initiated the sequence. There was a slight jolt as the shuttle pod connected with the Enterprise.


    T''Pol allowed the barest hint of approval in her voice, to acknowledge his accomplishment. "Your piloting was adequate," she said. For a Vulcan, it was high praise indeed. "You have gained proficiency quickly." Though her words were understated, their significance was clear. T''Pol recognized Tyson''s efforts and the potential she saw in his growing skills.


    The decontamination room''s door hissed open, and T''Pol and Tyson stepped through, the air carrying a faint scent of disinfectant. Ahead of them, shoulder-high partitions divided the space into separate stalls, resembling shower cubicles. Tyson''s towering frame, enhanced by the Best of the Best and Augmented Perks, left his broad shoulders and muscular torso exposed above the barrier, granting him an unobstructed view into T''Pol''s stall.


    T''Pol''s slender fingers worked at the fastenings of her uniform, peeling away the fabric layer by layer. Tyson watched, mesmerized, as more of her skin was revealed. He followed her lead, stripping off his own clothes.


    "This is standard procedure," T''Pol explained, her voice devoid of discomfort or self-consciousness, purely factual and focused. "Decontamination requires the removal of all clothing to eliminate microbes or other contaminants." She turned her back to Tyson, her slender neck craned to peer at him over her shoulder. "Can you assist with my zipper?"


    Tyson reached over the barrier between them, grasping the tiny metal tag of her uniform''s hidden zipper. With a quick tug, he freed it from its mooring and drew it down the length of her back. The hiss of the separating teeth was the only sound within the small chamber. The uniform''s fabric parted, sliding down T''Pol''s lithe frame. Inch after inch of pale skin was revealed, lean muscles rippling subtly beneath as she shifted, elegantly stepping out of the pile of clothing pooled around her feet. When she reached up to remove her black undershirt, the movement stretched her bare shoulders taut. Tyson found himself transfixed, unable to tear his eyes away. A bead of sweat formed on his forehead, something uncommon for an Augment not engaging in heavy levels of physical activity.


    T''Pol''s slender fingers paused in their progress down the zipper on the back of her uniform, sensing Tyson''s intense gaze upon her. She turned her head to glance back over her shoulder, one angled eyebrow raised in silent query as she met his eyes. "Is there something you require?" she asked evenly, though a hint of curiosity lurked beneath the neutral tone of her voice.


    Tyson started, shaking himself out of his daze as a flush of embarrassment rose in his cheeks at having been caught staring. The Subcommander''s lithe form had transfixed him, and he berated himself for losing focus. "No, my apologies, you''re the first Vulcan I''ve seen up close," he muttered, turning his eyes away. "I didn''t mean to stare."


    T''Pol''s fingers resumed their progress down the back of her uniform as she replied evenly, "You cleared an entire ship full of Vulcans, did you not?"


    Tyson had no good response. She was right, of course. He had seen many Vulcans during the boarding, though none had affected him as she did now. "You''re correct, Subcommander," he said simply, then turned hastily away, focusing his attention on removing his own uniform. He kept his eyes averted, concentrating on the task at hand in an effort to avoid any further awkward moments between them.


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    Out of the corner of his eye, as he changed, Tyson saw T''Pol select a plain set of Starfleet-issue undergarments from a shelf along the wall. "Clean garments are provided for use during decontamination," she informed him briskly, her movements efficient and economical as she slipped into the simple shorts and shirt designed for function over modesty.


    Tyson located a pair of shorts in his size that would suffice and donned them quickly, studiously avoiding looking in T''Pol''s direction again, not wanting to risk another uncomfortable incident. He felt a lingering embarrassment over having been so transfixed by her that she had noticed his stare.


    T''Pol and Tyson sat side by side in pensive silence as the decontamination chamber''s soothing azure lights bathed them. The low, rhythmic hum of the machinery permeated the small, sparse room, evoking an atmosphere of tranquility that belied the tumult raging within Tyson. He kept his gaze fixed straight ahead as the decon cycle initiated, harsh cobalt beams sweeping over their forms. Yet try as he might, Tyson could not resist stealing furtive glances at the woman beside him.


    T''Pol''s snug-fitting garments clung to every contour and curve, highlighting her lithe, athletic frame. Tyson''s pulse quickened as his eyes traced the elegant lines of her body. A disembodied voice sounded from beyond the chamber, instructing them to apply a viscous, translucent gel to their exposed skin. As they complied, T''Pol turned her back to Tyson once more, requesting assistance in spreading the substance across her shoulders.


    Tyson reveled in the feel of her smooth skin beneath his palms as he gently massaged the gel into her flesh. Focusing intently on his ministrations, he lingered perhaps longer than necessary, his touch becoming more caress than perfunctory application.


    "Massaging in the decontamination gel is unnecessary," T''Pol remarked evenly, turning to face him once more. "Simple superficial application will suffice."


    Tyson felt the heat of embarrassment creep up his neck at her light admonishment. Wordlessly, she took the container of gel from him and gestured for him to present his back to her. As her fingers moved across his skin with brisk efficiency, Tyson tried and failed to ignore the pleasurable sensation.


    The decontamination lights bathed them in an eerie blue glow as they sat together afterward. Tyson couldn''t stop stealing glances at T''Pol, no matter how hard he tried. Something was wrong with him, seriously wrong. There was no logical reason for this sudden, overwhelming infatuation. Sure, she was beautiful, but this went way beyond that. Rivulets of gel trickled down her neck, pooling in the hollow of her collarbone. The gel left her skin glistening, portions of her clothing clinging in a way that made the fabric seem almost wet. Her hard nipples pressed unmistakably against the fabric of her top.


    She turned, meeting his gaze head-on. "Are you well, Recruit Tyson?"


    "I''m fine," he gritted out, a wave of desire crashing over him. He squeezed his eyes shut, fingers curling into white-knuckled fists.


    T''Pol stepped closer, studying him with those piercing eyes. "Your vital signs are abnormal. Pupil dilation, increased respiration, elevated heart rate." She paused, gaze drifting lower, she noticed, "You are experiencing arousal." As she moved nearer, her scent, warm and exotic, was nearly overwhelming his augmented senses.


    A desperate laugh barked out of him before he could stop it. He really looked at her then, drinking her in. The flush of emerald on her cheeks was an effect of her green blood rising close to the surface of her skin. Her full lips parted slightly, as she glistened from a sheen of perspiration. God, she was beautiful.


    "I''m in Pon Farr, T''Pol," he blurted out abruptly, unable to restrain himself any longer.


    T''Pol raised one slanted eyebrow, the motion elegant and restrained. "You do show signs consistent with the early stages of the Pon Farr," she said, her voice as composed as ever. Her pink tongue darted out briefly to wet her lips and Tyson tracked the motion hungrily, desire coiling tight within him. "But you are human. You should not be aware of the Pon Farr. I do not think..."


    "I''m not completely human," Tyson interrupted, his voice tight with urgency. His hand had been unconsciously squeezing the end of the metal bench they were seated on as they spoke. Under the strength of his grip, the bench let out an audible groan as the metal warped, the sound clearly heard within the confines of the small chamber.


    T''Pol''s gaze flicked downwards, taking in his casual display of strength. She inclined her head slightly in acknowledgment as understanding dawned. Clearly, no ordinary human could bend steel with their bare hands, but perhaps one with Vulcan blood could. He did seem to be experiencing the Pon Farr after all. T''Pol was unaware of any Vulcan-Human hybrids, but Tyson had explained he was from a parallel dimension. It was the most logical explanation for his current condition. "Indeed," she said simply, soft and low. When she spoke again, her tone was clinical, detached, "The Pon Farr is a deeply private matter for Vulcans. It is not something we discuss with outsiders. Most Vulcans would never admit to experiencing the Pon Farr." She met his fevered gaze steadily, her expression unreadable. "But given your unique circumstances, it seems only logical to make an exception."


    Tyson nodded tightly, struggling to focus on her words through the haze of need that gripped him. "I''m listening," he managed.


    "Every seven years, Vulcan males enter a state of intense biological and psychological distress known as the Pon Farr," T''Pol began in a lecturing tone. "It is characterized by a surge of hormones, which leads to erratic behavior, emotional volatility, and a desperate drive to mate."


    She paused, letting the information sink in. Tyson knew all this already from his meta knowledge, but ground out, "It''s like going into heat."


    "A crude analogy, but not inaccurate," T''Pol allowed, "During the Pon Farr, a Vulcan male must mate or engage in ritual combat in order to resolve the hormonal imbalance. If they do not, the effects will continue to intensify until they reach a critical point. Madness, and eventually death, will result."


    Tyson''s question hung in the air between them for a moment before he finally voiced it aloud. "Is the Pon Farr limited only to males?"


    T''Pol considered her response carefully, "Typically, yes. The onset of menstruation in females provides a hormonal cycle that offsets the imbalance which triggers the Pon Farr. As such, it is far less common for females to experience it."


    A lump formed in Tyson''s throat as he forced himself to ask the next question, though he already knew the answer would not be what he hoped. "And once the Pon Farr begins, there''s no other way to stop it? No cure or treatment?"


    "There are certain meditative techniques that can be used to delay the onset of the Pon Farr, or to mitigate its effects to some degree," T''Pol explained, "But they require great mental discipline and control of one''s emotions. In the later stages, such techniques are largely ineffective."


    She looked at him pointedly, her dark eyes boring into his. "Based on your current state, I would estimate you are only in the early stages. Meditation may still be of some help to you. But the final stage of the Pon Farr is known as the plak tow, the blood fever."


    Swallowing hard, Tyson grasped at this last thread of hope. The Blood Fever, his Drawback. "But if I start meditating now, during the early stages, maybe I can prevent it from progressing to that point?"


    T''Pol''s response was swift and blunt. "Unlikely. Once the plak tow sets in, meditation will be of little aid. You will have only two options at that point, as I said earlier. Mate or fight."


    Tyson fell silent, turning over the implications in his mind. After a long moment, he met T''Pol''s gaze again. "And if I choose neither?"


    Her dark eyes were uncompromising. "Then the Pon Farr will consume you. You will lose all control, all rationality. The fever will rage unchecked, burning through your mind until there is nothing left of who you once were."


    Tyson''s eyes slid shut, his jaw clenched as he fought the raging fever scorching through his veins. Had he made a terrible mistake accepting this Drawback? The thought gnawed at him.


    A gentle weight settled beside him. He cracked an eye open to find T''Pol perched there, studying him with concern etching her delicate features. As if sensing the turmoil roiling within him, she leaned fractionally closer.


    "Recruit Tyson. I can assist you, as you assisted me on the Seleya. I will help you through this, in whatever way I can."


    He stared at her, the offer dangling before him. The Pon Farr howled its demands. He knew precisely how she could sate the insatiable hunger devouring him from within, and it did not involve mortal combat. His gaze raked over the alluring curves of her body, taking in every tantalizing detail. Yet beneath the haze of lust, his augmented intellect rebelled at the notion of surrendering so completely to base instinct. Of relinquishing control in so absolute a manner.


    Battling the warring impulses, he ground out at last, "Can you teach me the meditation? Please."


    T''Pol inclined her head in acquiescence, stepping back to give him space. "Very well. Sit with me, and I will guide you."


    She sank gracefully to the floor, folding her legs beneath her as she settled into a lotus position. After a brief hesitation, Tyson joined her on the floor, the hard deck plating unforgiving against his knees. He struggled to slow his racing heart and rein in the fever burning through his blood.


    "Close your eyes," T''Pol instructed, her voice low and soothing. "Focus only on your breath. Let it fill your lungs, then center your awareness there as you exhale slowly."


    Tyson obeyed, letting his eyes fall shut. He drew in a long, deep breath, held it for a five-count, and then released it in a slow, controlled exhale.


    "Good," T''Pol murmured. "Now, reach out with your mind. Feel the energy within you. Acknowledge the presence of the turbulence, but do not let it control you. You are the master of your mind and body."


    Tyson''s brow furrowed with concentration as he struggled to follow her guidance. When he reached out with his mind, his empathic abilities flared to life unbidden. Like tendrils of smoke, he picked up faint sensations and emotions from the crew members nearby. Their feelings were a distraction, making it difficult to focus inward. "I can''t do it," he gritted out through clenched teeth.


    "You can," T''Pol corrected firmly. "You are stronger than your baser instincts. Your mind, your will, these are the weapons you must wield to conquer the fever."


    Slowly, gradually, Tyson felt the raging fire of Pon Farr began to recede. Though not disappearing entirely, the white-hot need pulled back like a wave receding from the shore. It became a burning ember rather than an all-consuming conflagration. Something he could contend with.


    "That''s it," T''Pol encouraged, satisfaction warming her normally stoic tone. "Breathe. Focus. You are in control."


    ¡ª Star Jumper ¡ª


    The harsh hiss of decontamination ceased as T''Pol and Tyson exited the chamber. Their unanticipated return had not gone unnoticed by the crew. Captain Jonathan Archer approached, relief evident in the crinkles around his eyes and the broad smile on his lips.


    "Welcome back, T''Pol," he greeted warmly, his affection for his crew clear in his tone. "And Recruit."


    With her characteristic Vulcan composure, T''Pol responded, "Captain Archer, we successfully navigated the asteroid field. I would like to introduce Tyson. His assistance was instrumental in my successful return."


    Captain Archer turned to Tyson, gratitude, and relief plain on his open features. "Thank you for bringing back one of my crew safely, Recruit."


    Tyson ducked his head in acknowledgment of the praise. "Just doing my duty, sir," he murmured.


    T''Pol inclined her head in agreement. "The recruit exhibited admirable resourcefulness and clear-headedness during a difficult situation," she confirmed.


    Archer smiled, affection for his crew crinkling the skin around his eyes. "Good work, both of you. I''m glad to have you back safe and sound." He clapped a hand on Tyson''s shoulder. "Looks like we might have a place for you here, after all, Recruit, if you''re interested."


    Tyson blinked in surprise. "Thank you, sir."


    Turning his attention back to T''Pol, Captain Archer suggested in a concerned tone, "I''m sure you''re tired after your ordeal on the Seleya. Why don''t you head to your quarters to recuperate for as long as you need?"


    T''Pol acknowledged the captain''s suggestion with a slight dip of her chin, the Vulcan equivalent of a nod. "Thank you, Captain. However, Vulcans do not require as much recuperation as humans might under similar circumstances. I shall utilize the time to meditate and realign my focus."


    Though her tone remained even, Archer detected the subtle undertones of weariness in her voice. He knew T''Pol well enough by now not to argue the point. Her Vulcan stoicism was an integral part of who she was, and though he couldn''t fully understand it, he respected her needs.


    "Of course," Archer replied, a look of understanding passing between them. "Let me know if you need anything."


    Tyson followed T''Pol''s slender frame as she glided silently through the corridors of the Enterprise. Their journey ended when they arrived at the entrance to her personal quarters. Though located on a human ship, T''Pol''s private sanctuary remained distinctly Vulcan.


    Stepping inside, Tyson glanced around at the orderly minimalism surrounding him. The decor reflected her people''s preference for simplicity and efficiency over ornamentation. In one corner stood a small Vulcan ''shrine'', just a simple, unadorned surface upon which rested carefully selected Vulcan artifacts, each holding personal or cultural significance for their owner. The sleeping area contained only a modest platform bed, straightforward in design without any excess. The bedding was selected for the functionality of providing restful sleep rather than luxury. A compact workstation equipped with a computer terminal provided T''Pol with the necessary tools to fulfill her duties and research.


    In the center of the room, along the wall, was a low table with two cushions on either side - likely used for meditation, Tyson surmised. Throughout the quarters, there was an absence of clutter or extraneous items. Each piece of furniture served a specific purpose, contributing to an orderly environment that supported T''Pol''s need for tranquility.


    Tyson hesitated on the threshold of T''Pol''s quarters, knowing the request he was about to ask infringed on the sanctity of her private space. The sparse Vulcan aesthetic surrounded him. Finally working up his nerve, Tyson spoke, choosing his words carefully. "I recognize this is your personal space, T''Pol. But I find myself in need of a secure location for my Personal Reality door. It''s vital for my ability to travel between dimensions and for protecting what''s inside the warehouse, including currently, the Vulcans from the Seleya."


    He met her gaze evenly, his sincerity evident. "I need to keep the door safe. With everything we''ve been through, you''re the only one on the Enterprise I trust for this." He paused, letting his words sink in. "Would you allow me to keep the door here? It won''t disrupt your space more than necessary, I assure you."


    T''Pol considered his request silently, her face impassive. In her eyes, the strange human hybrid had proven himself an ally, though his being affected by the Pon Farr was troubling. Weighing the implications, T''Pol saw the responsibility such trust entailed. After a moment of contemplation, she responded, "I understand the necessity of ensuring the security of your dimensional gateway. You have demonstrated a commitment to the well-being of the Vulcan crew. Therefore, I am willing to accommodate your request." She met his eyes steadily. "I will permit you to keep your doorway here. But I expect you to minimize any disruption to my quarters. I shall ensure its safekeeping and maintain the confidentiality of its existence."


    Relief flickered across Tyson''s face. "You have my word. Thank you, T''Pol," he said solemnly, gratitude ringing in his voice.


    She inclined her head in acknowledgment. Though reluctant to relinquish any part of her personal space, T''Pol understood the importance of what she would be safeguarding.


    Tyson approached the bare wall that separated her bed from her workspace. He eyed the empty space critically, judging its suitability.


    "Would this location be acceptable?" he inquired, turning his gaze to T''Pol as he awaited her approval.


    T''Pol''s eyes swept over the proposed site. After a brief moment of consideration, she gave a single nod, granting her acquiescence to the placement.


    With her consent granted, Tyson produced the dimensional doorway card and held it up. The air before him shimmered as the doorway materialized, melding seamlessly into the wall as if it had always been there. Tyson knew the Inter-Reality Connecting Door to his Personal Reality could not be locked. It was a fact he had fully considered when requesting this arrangement. If an emergency happened on Enterprise, or if boarding parties invaded, curious crew members or invaders could potentially enter his personal space completely unimpeded. But what other options did he have?


    Tyson turned back to T''Pol, a flicker of unease in his eyes. Reluctantly he admitted, "The Personal Reality, as it stands, contains nothing irreplaceable. For the time being, I''ll need to rely solely on the security your quarters provide and the trust I place in you to safeguard it. In time I may be able to purchase additional security features to prevent unwanted access."


    T''Pol''s expression remained impassive as she acknowledged Tyson''s words with a slight nod. "I understand," she responded evenly, her tone reassuring. "You have my word that I will maintain the integrity of my quarters, and thus the security of your dimensional doorway, to the best of my ability."


    The unexpected beep at T''Pol''s door drew their attention for a moment, but Tyson recognized that the electronic tone didn''t belong in the era of the NX-01 Enterprise. The sound was out of place, originating instead from the much later Enterprise-D. Rather than the sliding metal door to T''Pol''s quarters opening, an archway shimmered into existence.


    Tyson''s senses tingled. His Cosmic Awareness Perk revealed the truth of his current location. He was in a holodeck, yes but T''Pol''s quarters aboard the NX-01 Enterprise were far more at the moment. The holodeck was only a bridge masking the true nature of his location. Beyond the archway, he knew, lay the corridors and state-of-the-art technology of the Enterprise-D, centuries removed from T''Pol''s time. Yet the Vulcan''s quarters stood firmly rooted in the 22nd century. Two distinct realities, separated by centuries yet connected. Tyson dwelled simultaneously in both worlds, bound together temporarily when he added his Inter-Reality Connecting Door. After this moment, once he left the holodeck, the simulation would end as the program shut down. But through the Inter-Reality Connecting Door in his Personal Reality, Tyson would be able to return to T''Pol''s quarters. And it wouldn''t be a holographic simulation. It would be the NX-01 Enterprise''s reality; this new timeline would be continuing parallel but removed from the Enterprise-D¡¯s.


    Counselor Deanna Troi stepped through the entrance, "Tyson, it''s time to head to the bridge for the meeting," she announced.


    Tyson acknowledged her with a slight nod. Before leaving, he turned back to T''Pol, offering a respectful farewell to the stoic woman. "It was a pleasure working with you, Subcommander. Live long and prosper," he said solemnly.


    T''Pol responded in kind. "Peace and long life, Tyson," she replied evenly, her slender hand raised in the traditional Vulcan salute.


    With that, Tyson followed Deanna through the archway. He paused at the threshold, his hand resting on the doorframe as T''Pol''s voice called out to him. Turning back, he met her steady gaze, "Should your problem we discussed earlier progress to the point it becomes untenable..." She trailed off, allowing a pregnant pause for her words to sink in, her expression inscrutable.


    After a moment, she continued, "Return here and we will remedy it... together."


    For the briefest of instants, Tyson''s augmented mind whirred, processing the implications of her statement with lightning speed. Had the stoic Vulcan just propositioned him? The thought sent a jolt through him, his enhanced senses picking up the faintest hints of a verdant flush creeping across her features. Possibilities and scenarios flickered through his mind, each more tantalizing than the last. Perhaps he would be walking through that Inter-Reality Connecting Door sooner than anticipated.


    Yet outwardly, his expression remained impassive, betraying none of the tumultuous thoughts churning beneath the surface. With a slight nod, he acknowledged T''Pol''s offer, his gaze lingering on her longer than necessary. Counselor Troi, oblivious to the undercurrents, saw only a brief hesitation and sensed excitement within his emotions before Tyson turned to follow her through the archway, leaving the spartan confines of T''Pol''s quarters behind.


    As Tyson exited, the control panel outside the holodeck emitted a series of beeps, drawing his attention. He paused, regarding the panel pensively before continuing on his way.


    Episode: Star Trek Enterprise - Impulse Complete!


    +100 RP


    Reality Points: 500


    "Good show saving the Vulcan crew. Since you did better than Archer did, enjoy some bonus points."


    - Q


    P.S. You should reconsider the Divine Voyeur Perk.


    <hr>


    Tyson


    Origins: Human, Humanoid, Drop-In, Space Pirate, Bad Guy


    Race: Augment Human-Betazoid (Hybrid)


    Character Points: 1550


    Reality Points: 500


    Credits: 0


    Status Effects: (none)


    Drawbacks:


    Gauntlet (Locked)


    Ensign Marty Stu


    A Simple Re¡¯Q¡¯uest


    Hybrid (Betazoid)


    Amok Time/Blood Fever


    Outlawed


    Perks:


    Cosmic Awareness


    Out of Nowhere


    Going Native


    Live and Let Live


    This is (Not?) Rocket Science


    Kinda Bland


    Determinator


    Painted On


    Snakeskin


    Adaptable


    Duelist


    Master with your Hands


    Best of the Best


    Everything Is A Weapon


    Augment


    Items:


    Laser Blade


    Spacesuit


    Agony Booth


    Cloaking Minefield


    Personal Reality:


    Access Key


    Security System


    Inter-Reality Connecting Door (Star Trek Enterprise)


    Medical Bay


    Spaceships:


    Tramp Freighter

 Season 1: Episode 3.1 - Anomaly

    Stardate: 41157.5


    Earth Standard Date: February 27, 2364


    Location: U.S.S Enterprise-D, Orbiting the Fourth Planet of the Deneb System.


    Tyson stepped onto the bridge of the Enterprise-D, following Counselor Troi into one of the most iconic settings in Star Trek. When Q brought him to this universe, he had arrived on the bridge but hadn''t taken the time to truly appreciate it.


    The spacious command center was laid out in a semi-circular fashion. At its center sat Picard in the captain''s chair, flanked on either side by seats for the first officer, Commander Riker, and another senior officer, typically the ship''s counselor or science officer. Dominating the forward wall sat a large viewscreen, providing real-time visuals of the space outside the ship. Below it, the operations and conn stations were manned by the android, Lieutenant Commander Data, and another officer. Those consoles were responsible for navigating the vessel and managing its day-to-day functions. The tactical station was above and behind the captain''s chair, equipped with controls for the Enterprise-D''s phasers, photon torpedoes, and deflector shields. Its operator, Lieutenant Yar, was responsible for the ship''s defense and security. The rear of the bridge housed science and engineering stations, where officers monitored the ship''s systems and surrounding space. Advanced sensors and analysis tools enabled the crew to gather and interpret crucial data for their missions. Clean lines, carpet, and a calming color scheme defined the bridge''s aesthetic. Softly lit panels of LCARS interfaces provided access to the ship''s vast databases and control functions, complementing the ambiance.


    Upon their entrance, Captain Jean-Luc Picard greeted them, "Ah, Counselor, Mr. Tyson, you''ve arrived. I presume your tour went well. Let us adjourn in the Observation Lounge."


    Following the captain''s lead, Tyson, along with Counselor Troi and the rest of the senior staff, exited the bridge through one of the side doors. As they departed, other officers seamlessly took over their stations, ensuring the continuous operation of the bridge. The group moved along a ramp that connected the bridge to the Observation Lounge. This particular ramp, curving gently away from the bridge, was a feature not depicted on the television show. Tyson took in the Observation Lounge as he entered, noting the familiar faces of the Enterprise''s senior staff. Before taking his seat at the long, wooden conference table, Tyson felt compelled to express his gratitude to Captain Picard.


    Striding over to where Picard stood reviewing a PADD, Tyson extended his thanks. "Captain, I wanted to thank you for dedicating time to my situation. After touring your vessel over the past day, I have an even greater appreciation for how busy you and your crew must be keeping this ship operating. The hospitality and accommodations have also been fantastic. You and Counselor Troi have my deepest gratitude for allowing me to experience life aboard the Enterprise."


    Picard turned to Tyson and grasped his extended hand in a firm handshake, the faintest smile touching his lips. "You''re quite welcome," he replied, in a warm yet professional tone.


    Tyson''s attention shifted to the man seated at Picard''s right. Commander William Riker, the ship''s First Officer. Tyson knew the value of making a good first impression, especially with the senior staff. Striding over to Riker, Tyson extended his hand. "Commander Riker, it''s a pleasure to meet you in person," he began. "I''ve spent the last day touring the lower decks. They say you can learn a lot about a leader by how his people talk about him when he''s not around. I didn''t hear a negative word. Since I know you handle things like duty shifts and personnel assignments, that tells me you must be a stand-up guy."


    Riker clasped Tyson''s hand, his lips spreading in a wide smile. "The pleasure''s mine," he replied, his tone warm and welcoming.


    Tyson turned to the pale android officer next, "Lieutenant Commander Data," he began formally, "I was hoping to see you again on my tour, you weren''t purposely avoiding me were you?"


    Data cocked his head, "I was not. I performed my duties and then returned to my quarters. I was unaware you were looking for me. Why did you simply not ask the computer for my location?" he replied in his usual candid, literal way.


    Tyson chuckled. He found Data''s uncomplicated directness refreshing. "I was just kidding commander, but don''t worry, we¡¯re gonna work on that," he promised warmly.


    Tyson finally approached the last member of the senior staff who he hadn''t encountered. He had yet to meet, Lieutenant Tasha Yar. He extended a hand in greeting, "We haven¡¯t been introduced yet, Lieutenant Yar, but it¡¯s an honor to meet you. I had a chance to briefly observe one of the self-defense classes being run in the gymnasium. I appreciate the opportunity to learn to protect oneself."


    Tasha Yar firmly gripped his hand. She responded with a nod of approval. "It¡¯s good to hear the class is appreciated. But I hear that you''re pretty good with a phaser," she remarked, hinting at Tyson''s capabilities in velocity.


    Tyson laughed, but before he could respond, Captain Picard stepped in, redirecting the focus of the room back to the purpose at hand. "It sounds like you had quite the day. Now that introductions are complete, please sit," he requested in a tone that was kind yet commanding, befitting the captain of the Federation''s flagship.


    Doctor Crusher stood at the head of the table, her serious demeanor drawing the officers'' attention to the viewscreen behind her which displayed her last scan. "It appears that Tyson is half-Betazoid," she stated plainly, her words hanging over the room like a cloud of disbelief.


    Picard leaned forward, forehead lined with incredulity and concern. "How is that possible?"


    Crusher, usually so unflappable, could only shake her head helplessly. "I have no answers, Captain," she admitted, her customary confidence absent in the face of such mystery.


    All eyes turned to Deanna Troi and Data, seeking any insight the pair could offer, but they too were at a loss. Data said nothing, his vast knowledge unable to compute any possible explanation. Deanna offered only a shrug, unable to provide any clarity regarding Tyson''s origins.


    Picard absorbed the room''s uncertainty for a moment before speaking, his voice steady despite the unanswered questions. "Very well. Everyone, continue your investigations. In the meantime, let''s discuss Mr. Tyson''s future." A brief silence settled over the room. "The question now, is what next?" Picard began, his tone setting the stage for the significant decisions that lay ahead.


    "I contacted Starfleet Command about your situation. There are people at the Daystrom Institute who would very much like to speak with you regarding your accounting of history," Picard explained calmly. "There is significant scientific and historical interest in what your experiences and knowledge of your specific timeline could offer the Federation''s scholars."


    Tyson felt the eyes of the entire room upon him. He knew his response would shape the course of his future in this universe. After a long moment, Tyson met Picard''s patient stare. "I understand the interest in debriefing me on the history of my world," he began carefully. Picard raised an eyebrow, wordlessly inviting Tyson to continue. "With respect, Captain, I have lost everyone and everything I ever knew," Tyson said bluntly. "My family and friends are centuries gone and dimensions removed. I don''t have any objections to speaking with those who have an academic interest in me, but I''m looking to my future and have no desire to spend my life as an anthropology case study."


    Picard''s expression was thoughtful as he absorbed the statement. He answered, "I can understand your perspective," he acknowledged. "Along that vein, I notified The Department of Temporal Investigations of your arrival. It is standard procedure for a captain to do so when any event occurs that may affect the stability of our timeline. Since you arrived in the present from the past, they have no issues with you at the moment. Though they might wish to speak with you at some point in the future. "


    Tyson kept his face impassive as Captain Picard delivered the news. The Department of Temporal Investigations. Just the name was enough to conjure images of cold, stone-faced inquisitors who would no doubt grill him relentlessly for every detail of his unexpected trip through time. For now, it seemed, they were content to leave him be, but it was a small comfort.


    Picard''s tone turned cautious as he broached the subject of Tyson''s legal status. "Additionally, your status as a Federation citizen is somewhat in question. While you were born on Earth, your birth predates the formation of the Federation itself. There should be no issues with you applying for full citizenship, but the application will still need to be officially submitted and approved." Picard clarified, "As captain of a starship, I have the authority to grant you asylum on board the Enterprise, nothing more." He folded his hands on the table. "In less than three months, the Enterprise is scheduled for maintenance at Starbase 74. From there, transportation could easily be arranged to the Daystrom Institute, or anywhere else in the Federation you wished to go, including Earth itself."


    Tyson considered the captain''s words. He had given some thought to what he wanted to do in this new universe he found himself in. He had a general grasp of where danger lurked and had a cursory knowledge of where to find items of great power or when he could capitalize on opportunities. He knew he could do some good here, maybe even save lives. But much of those opportunities hinged on him staying on the Enterprise. At least for now.


    Decision made, he met Picard''s eyes steadily. "Captain, I would like to formally request permission to remain aboard the Enterprise. To be frank, I have no wish to return to Earth."


    One of the captain''s eyebrows quirked upward. "Might I inquire as to your reasoning?"


    "If there is a whole galaxy to explore, this ship seems the ideal place to do so from," Tyson explained earnestly. "I don''t yet know where I will ultimately end up. But I do know that I want to aid the Federation in whatever way I can. I don''t know the best way to do that yet. But I''m aware there are civilians aboard this vessel already, so my request should not be seen as extraordinary."


    Picard considered him for a long moment before replying. "Request granted. For now, you may remain aboard the Enterprise as an asylum seeker. We will revisit the issue of your citizenship at a later date."


    Relief swept through Tyson, though he was careful not to let it show. "Thank you, Captain. I appreciate the opportunity."


    Picard gave a brisk nod. "Now..."


    The captain''s words died in his throat as Worf''s urgent voice burst through the comms. "Captain and senior staff to the bridge."


    The Enterprise''s lighting dimmed, shifting to a cautious yellow alert, the klaxons sounding their warning and calling the crew to ready themselves. The senior staff made haste to the bridge. Tyson followed along in tow.


    Upon entering, Picard''s presence commanded the bridge, his stern gaze sweeping those present. "Report," he demanded succinctly. The senior staff hurried to their stations to replace the other officers.


    Worf responded immediately, "Sir, a ship appeared starboard without warning. It was not detected approaching on long-range sensors. It seems to be trapped in some kind of spatial anomaly." His report was concise, but concern colored his normally stoic demeanor.


    "On screen!" Picard commanded. The large viewscreen flickered to life, revealing the scene that had sparked the alert. An unremarkable cigar-shaped ship writhed within the swirling chaos of energy and matter. The anomaly danced wildly around it, pulling the craft ever closer to the event horizon and what could only be assumed as utter destruction.


    The bridge of the USS Enterprise was tense as Data delivered his report in his characteristically stoic tone. "Sir, that ship is an Orion Tramp Freighter, commonly used to transport cargo and frequently slaves," he informed Picard succinctly.


    The situation appeared dire, yet Tyson might have laughed if not for the gravity of it all. The notion of a slave transport vessel being dubbed a ''Tramp Freighter'' seemed utterly ridiculous to him. Though he kept his humor contained, Tyson found the name to be darkly amusing. Orions were an interesting species, but he was reticent to encounter them, especially the females. Orion men were hulking brutes, but the females were secretly far more dangerous. The women were green-skinned but nearly universally appealing. They posed as slaves, and most of the galaxy saw them as such. However, the Orion females used this perception to their advantage. They possessed powerful pheromones that were used to influence others, particularly males.


    Tyson''s thoughts froze.


    Tramp Freighter.


    That was the name of the ship he should have acquired as a free Item from one of his Origins. A sinking feeling settled into his gut. This situation was probably the result of the Drawback that Q had promised in return for the information he''d provided.


    Keen to keep Data on task, Picard pressed, "Their status, Mr. Data?"


    "Sensors indicate their shields are down and warp engines are offline," Data continued evenly. "Their impulse engines are at full power but they are insufficient to escape the anomaly." His assessment painted a stark picture of a ship in dire straits.


    Without hesitation, Picard issued a command. "Engage tractor beam." His decision was swift, aimed at preventing the Orion ship''s destruction.


    "Engaging Tractor beam," Worf responded immediately from his station.


    Picard turned his attention to LaForge. "Analysis of that anomaly, Lieutenant?" he questioned.


    "There are massive surges of gravitons and chronitons," LaForge replied. "I need time to analyze the sensor data fully." He glanced at the android. "Data?"


    Data rose from the forward station, replaced seamlessly by a junior officer. He moved swiftly to a science station, fingers flying over the controls as he began rapidly processing the incoming information. Picard stood resolute on the Enterprise bridge, his gaze fixed on the viewscreen even as his mind raced through possibilities. The tractor beam''s failure was troubling. There were lives at stake.


    "Transporters?" he asked, eyes shifting to LaForge.


    The engineer looked at Data, the android didn''t hesitate. "There is a chance the confinement beam will penetrate the interference, but we would be limited to transporting single individuals at a time."


    "Do it," Picard ordered without pause.


    Data''s fingers flew across the science station as he prepped the transporter, movements so rapid they blurred.


    Then a harsh beep sounded, the sound was an undeniable alert of failure. Picard stiffened.


    "The annular confinement beam was reflected back by the anomaly," Data reported with a perplexed note in his normally flat tone.


    "Reflected?" Picard repeated in disbelief. "How is that possible?"


    LaForge could only shake his head, the impossibility clear on his face. "It shouldn''t be."


    A collective unease rippled through the bridge as the crew grasped the enormity of the situation. This anomaly presented a puzzle that challenged their understanding of physics and space itself.


    Counselor Troi voiced the critical question that had gone unasked. "Where was the beam reflected to?" Before the implications could be explored further, another harsh beep sounded, piercing the tense atmosphere.


    It was an ominous warning.


    Tyson was suddenly enveloped in the shimmering particles of a transporter beam. Drawing the attention of the bridge crew to his fading form. The unexpected and uninitiated transport caught everyone off-guard, including Tyson himself. The swirling energy cocooned him and within moments he dematerialized completely.


    "Where did he go?" Picard demanded, urgency blending with authority in his voice.


    Troi, whose Empathy had become entangled with Tyson''s earlier, immediately knew his location. She announced, "He''s on the Orion ship."


    Picard turned to Troi, confused about how she could possibly know that. But Data confirmed in his characteristically flat tone. "Sensors indicate the Tramp Freighter now has forty-one life signs, sir. Forty Orion...and one Human-Betazoid male." The revelation connected Tyson''s sudden disappearance to the vessel they had been striving to assist.


    Picard''s response was immediate. "Get him back!"


    Data set to work. "Initiating transport," he announced, his fingers moving with mechanical precision over the console. The tension on the bridge was palpable, every crew member holding their breath in anticipation, their collective focus on the screen displaying the Orion Tramp Freighter caught in the grip of the spatial anomaly.


    The situation escalated as the freighter, with Tyson presumably aboard, was inexorably pulled into the event horizon of the anomaly. The swirling maw of the anomaly seemed to consume the freighter, and then the anomaly itself vanished without a trace. A heavy silence enveloped the bridge as every eye remained fixed on the viewscreen, hoping against the odds for a sign of success.


    After a tense pause, Data delivered the news they all dreaded. "Transport was unsuccessful." The finality in his voice, devoid of emotion, set a wave of despair sweeping through the crew.


    Troi gasped. Her empathic nature had her acutely feeling the collective shock and sorrow that filled the bridge, further impacted by the disappearance of Tyson''s empathic presence along with the freighter.


    After a long moment of silence, Picard''s voice cut through the heavy atmosphere. "Stand down from yellow alert," he commanded, his tone somber yet resolute and holding a tacit acknowledgment of the situation''s gravity. "LaForge, Data, I need to know what happened. Detailed report as soon as you''re able,"


    This book''s true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.


    "Yes, Sir," they both responded.


    ¡ª Star Jumper ¡ª


    Hours after the unsettling events on the bridge, Data and Geordi LaForge made their way to the captain''s ready room to deliver their report. The ready room was Captain Jean-Luc Picard''s personal space aboard the starship Enterprise, almost like his office. The room contained mementos from Picard''s long career, including model starships and various alien artifacts collected during a life dedicated to exploration. Bookshelves lined with literature and historical texts reflected Picard''s scholarly interests, while the large viewport offered a serene view of the stars streaking by, a constant reminder of the vast universe beyond.


    Picard sat behind his desk, engrossed in a PADD''s contents as Data and LaForge entered. His sturdy desk was neatly organized. As the two officers stepped inside, Picard looked up. He gestured towards the chairs opposite him, inviting them to make themselves comfortable. "At ease, gentlemen, please sit," he said.


    Data and Geordi joined the Captain, it was Data who spoke first, beginning his report, "Captain, after extensive analysis of the sensor readings, we have determined that the anomaly encountered by the Orion Tramp Freighter and subsequently responsible for Mr. Tyson''s unexpected transport, exhibits characteristics inconsistent with any previously encountered anomalies." His voice was devoid of inflection as he continued, "The anomaly''s oscillating event horizon appears to have had a reflective property for certain energy wavelengths. Our transporter beam, upon encountering this reflective subspace boundary, was redirected rather than absorbed or dissipated as we would normally expect. This is a rare phenomenon known as a ''quantum backscatter effect.''"


    Geordi leaned forward slightly, his tone emphasized the novelty of their discovery. "It''s possible that the anomaly''s instability was exacerbated by the freighter''s impulse engines. Their emissions might have acted as a catalyst, precipitating the anomaly''s collapse."


    Data, picking up seamlessly from LaForge, "The anomaly''s temporal and spatial fluctuations were indicative of a Cochrane distortion field, suggesting a tunneling effect through the fabric of spacetime."


    Picard absorbed the flood of information, and asked for the sake of clarification, "Are you suggesting that anomaly was a wormhole?"


    Geordi nodded in agreement, continuing, "Yes, captain, the inversion of the subspace detected around the anomaly, suggests an unstable wormhole."


    Data continued the technical exposition. "I am in agreement with Lieutenant LaForge. The wormhole''s aperture was stabilized by a dynamic subspace matrix, which seems to have interacted unpredictably with the impulse emissions. Then again with our transporter beam''s annular confinement field, resulting in its collapse."


    Picard nodded thoughtfully. "So, in essence, we encountered a wormhole that not only trapped the Orion freighter but also reflected our transporter beam, leading to Tyson''s unintended transport onto the freighter. And that same transporter beam caused the anomaly to disperse. The question is, if that was a wormhole, where did it lead?"


    Geordi, leaning forward slightly, added, "Unlike the Einstein-Rosen bridges that we''re familiar with, this wormhole displayed a fluctuating subspace footprint. It''s like it was phasing in and out of our dimensional plane, which isn''t something we''ve encountered before. Plus the presence of graviton and chroniton particles in high concentrations complicate the possibilities."


    Data finished, "Sir, it''s impossible to know. If we follow the assumption that the wormhole did not collapse in on itself, and the Tramp Freighter was not crushed inside the wormhole as it collapsed. Then the freighter could have ended up anywhere, any time, and in any spatial location or dimension. There is no way to know or to track the wormhole''s aperture."


    Having carefully weighed the information provided by Geordi and Data, Picard pragmatically concluded that the erratic nature of the wormhole, paired with its volatility, rendered any attempt at tracking or recreating the anomaly not just futile, but dangerous. "Even if it were feasible," Picard stated, "I would not jeopardize the Enterprise or her crew by traveling into an unsteady wormhole, particularly not in pursuit of an individual who, however unfortunate his current circumstances may be, is neither a member of our crew nor even a native of our time or timeline." His tone, though determined, conveyed an undercurrent of regret. "I do hope Mr. Tyson survived, and if so, I wish him good fortune. I''ll make a note in the ship''s log and notify the Daystrom Institute and Department of Temporal Investigations that our visitor has moved on."


    Shifting his focus to the immediate safety of the Enterprise and her crew, Picard issued his orders with clear authority. "Move the Enterprise farther from the anomaly''s previous location. Continue scanning for any signs of its return. We''ll stay in the system for one day, then proceed, to remain on schedule."


    Looking at the two officers, Picard sought to address any outstanding concerns or reports. "Was there anything else?" The silence that followed signaled that all pressing matters had been addressed.


    "Dismissed," he said, indicating the end of the meeting. As his officers exited the ready room, Picard returned to his PADD, redirecting his attention to the multitude of other duties requiring his notice.


    ¡ª Star Jumper ¡ª


    Tyson materialized suddenly on the bridge of the Orion ship, appearing in close proximity to one of the Orion women. Immediately he caused disarray among the frantically working crew. The Orions focused entirely on escaping the gravitational pull of the anomaly threatening to consume their vessel when Tyson''s unexpected intrusion only added to their panic. He and the Orion woman he landed on scrambled to disentangle themselves, both surprised to find him on top of her as they regained their balance.


    Amidst the efforts to stabilize the ship, one Orion''s eyes glued to a sensor panel announced, "The Federation ship is attempting to transport again." The statement momentarily beaconed hope that rescue might be imminent.


    Almost immediately, particles began swirling around Tyson in the shimmering hallmark of a transporter beam taking effect. For a brief, heart-stopping moment, it seemed he would be whisked away from the perilous situation back to the safety of the Federation starship. The particles danced in a whirlwind of light, enveloping him in their luminescent grasp. But just as quickly as they appeared, the particles faded.


    Tyson remained on the Orion bridge.


    As the vessel was pulled into the anomaly, the alarms continued their shrill cry, though the Orion ship had gone still. The violent tremors that had rattled through the vessel ceased as abruptly as they had begun, leaving an eerie tranquility in their wake.


    A lone Orion male occupied the bridge alongside the females. To an outsider, his role may have seemed greater than it was. Especially as he was the one who spoke first. "Status report," barked the male, his deep voice booming through the tense stillness.


    One of the women turned from her console, her curves barely contained by the tight fabric of her uniform. "All systems are stable for now, but the anomaly''s effects remain unpredictable."


    Tyson took advantage of the unexpected calm to survey his surroundings. The bridge was dark, save the control panels and sensor screens lining the walls, their displays flickering with data. The utilitarian aesthetics marked the Orion ship as one not built for comfort. The crew were predominantly Orion women, their distinctive green skin marking their species. They wore functional yet provocative attire that played to outsider assumptions about Orion culture.


    Tyson found himself in a precarious situation, confined in close quarters with Orion women while affected by the Pon Farr. The damnable Q had stranded him here as some twisted joke. He needed to get away, and fast.


    Though now an Augment, Tyson wasn''t certain that he would be immune to Orion pheromones, especially with the Blood Fever Drawback. He wasn''t about to risk finding out. The moment he realized where he was, Tyson held his breath. His lungs screamed for air but he fought the reflex to inhale. Grabbing at his belt, he grasped his helmet and slammed it over his head. He tapped the button on the belt to deploy the Spacesuit. Sleek silver expanded across his skin, connecting the helmet and belt. As the process completed, the helmet was flooded by the sweet, clean air of the suit''s self-contained oxygen supply.


    He hoped he hadn''t already inhaled too much of the pheromones in those first breaths after materializing amidst the Orion women. But there was nothing to be done about that now except wait and see if his body''s immune system protected him.


    Tyson cursed Q for this predicament. Though he had to grudgingly admit¡­ Q''s timing had been masterful.


    The Orion male''s command echoed through the bridge. "Detain the human. He''ll make a good slave or bargaining chip."


    The Orion woman whom Tyson had collided with earlier moved toward him with lithe, predatory steps, the tight fabric of her uniform straining against her curves. Tyson took an instinctive step back. "We tried to help you," he protested. "Is this how you repay those who offer you aid?"


    The Orion male dismissed Tyson''s words with a casual arrogance, his pragmatism as cold as the void outside. "Might''ve repaid your kindness if you succeeded. But you didn''t. Besides, what would we offer you? You humans don''t use money." He shrugged, the gesture made clear that any concept of gratitude or debt meant nothing to him.


    Tyson quickly surveyed the bridge, taking in the situation. Negotiation seemed futile against the Orions. He was outnumbered. Unlike the afflicted Vulcans, the Orions were thinking and cognizant. Simple tactics like kiting wouldn''t get him out of this one. The bridge only held a single door. He could use it to access his Personal Reality, but to get there, he would have to fight his way through half the Orion crew first.


    But Tyson wasn''t unarmed. He still had his Laser Sword attached to his belt. He''d have yet to use the weapon, but between his Augment dexterity and reflexes, Master with your Hand, Duellist, and Best of the Best, Tyson should be able to dispatch the Orions arrayed against him. Tyson''s smile grew feral. He really had stocked up on combat perks. That decision may have been overkill but outnumbered as he was, he couldn''t blame his past self.


    The Orion woman approached, her predatory gaze fixed on Tyson. Tyson weighed his options. In an effort to avoid slaughtering the entire bridge crew, Tyson tried something unorthodox.


    "I demand trial by combat!" he declared, his voice ringing with defiance.


    Tyson didn''t know much about Orion culture, as it wasn''t explored in Star Trek. But what he knew was that their culture was based around piracy and organized crime. He ventured that there might be some cultural equivalent to a trial by combat that he could invoke. Even if he was capable of it, defeating one Orion was preferable to defeating them all.


    The Orion woman approaching him paused, uncertainty flickering across her face. Tyson allowed himself a small feeling of victory. His words had an impact. The Orion man''s laughter cut through the tension. "Do we look like Klingons to you?" He jeered. "Not all aliens look alike, human."


    Intrigued, one of the Orion women asked, "Did you request Barter by Combat?" Her question opened a door Tyson hadn''t known existed.


    Seizing the opportunity, Tyson pointed at her. "Yes! I requested Barter by Combat!" he agreed quickly, not missing a beat.


    The Orions erupted into an animated debate, voices colliding as they considered Tyson''s bold demand. "Can he even invoke Barter by Combat?" one questioned, highlighting potential cultural obstacles to his gambit.


    Another Orion''s uncertainty reflected the situation''s novelty. "No non-Orion has ever requested Barter by Combat, certainly not a human male."


    Yet a third Orion raised a practical consideration. "He does give off the sense of a Space Pirate. But it looks like he has nothing to barter. Barter by Combat requires something of value to exchange."


    Seizing the moment, Tyson clarified his terms. "If I win, I want safe passage and accommodations." A simple yet significant request given the precariousness of his position.


    Intrigued, an Orion pressed for stakes. "What will you give if you lose?"


    Tyson''s reply was a desperate gamble, "Willing servitude," he stated, offering himself as the wager in this high-stakes bet.


    Murmurs grew louder as the Orions considered Tyson''s bold offer. Willingness to submit to servitude if defeated was a major concession.


    Tyson watched as one of the Orion women, exuding an aura of authority, stood and drew a slender, menacing dagger from her belt. She extended the weapon towards Tyson, the blade glinting ominously under the dim lighting of the bridge. "Choose your warrior," she commanded, her voice steady and imbued with the weight of tradition. The rest of the Orion women had gone silent when she stood up.


    Grasping the significance of the moment, and the meaning of her statement, Tyson took the dagger firmly. Without hesitation, he declared, "I will fight for myself." He had no one on the Orion ship who would fight for him, and likely none that could match his physical prowess.


    "I expected as much. Very well," the lead Orion responded with an evil smile. It seemed as if she had anticipated Tyson''s choice like he had just fallen into her trap. Tyson guessed she must be the true leader, her decisive manner and the respect she commanded from the crew setting her apart... But her grin worried him.


    As Tyson braced himself, expecting the male Orion to be his opponent, the lead female surprised him. Instead of the obvious choice, she produced another dagger, identical to the one given to Tyson.


    She called out, "D''Lavina."


    A slender, strikingly attractive Orion woman stepped forward to accept the challenge. D''Lavina embodied the exotic beauty often attributed to Orion women. Her form-fitting clothes accentuated her figure. This woman had curves rather than muscle. As D''Lavina took the dagger from the leader, her eyes locked onto Tyson''s through his helmet. She was not the brute force he might have expected from the male Orion. Instead, she presented a different kind of threat, an alluring one.


    The leader introduced a twist to the anticipated combat. "The dagger is symbolic," she declared, indicating that the ritual of combat allowed for more than just a simple knife fight. "Before the combat, there is a period allowed to equip yourself with weapons and armor of your choice. Do you wish to do so?"


    D''Lavina''s response was immediate and confident, "No. Just let me get a little more comfortable."


    Dressed in what could only loosely be termed a uniform, D''Lavina''s attire was more akin to a leather ensemble designed for agility and perhaps distraction, rather than conventional protection.


    Tyson watched, almost spellbound, as D''Lavina began to disrobe before him and the gathered crowd. With deliberate, teasing movements, she reached up and uncinched the laces of her leather bustier. Maintaining eye contact with Tyson, she pulled the garment up and over her head in one smooth motion, the grace of it leaving Tyson momentarily distracted. But his alluring opponent did not stop there. With equal deliberation, she unbuckled the belt at her waist, letting it fall open. Gripping the waistband of her tight leather skirt, she shimmied them down over her hips, the material sliding slowly down the length of her legs to pool at her feet. Tyson found it impossible to look away from the mesmerizing display. D''Lavina now stood before him in nothing but her undergarments, utterly unashamed. Her body was toned and flawless, and she exuded a raw sensuality that Tyson found deeply stirring.


    "Well?" D''Lavina purred, placing her hands on her hips as she held Tyson''s gaze. "Shall we begin?"


    Tyson''s attention was utterly fixated on D''Lavina. He barely registered the leader''s voice as she asked him a question, and didn''t process her words in the slightest.


    Turning her back to him, D''Lavina, dressed in only what could be described as skimpy lingerie, bent provocatively at the waist and untied the laces of her boots. She glanced coyly at Tyson over one shoulder, arching her back in an exaggerated manner that amplified the sexually charged atmosphere. Holding his gaze, she deliberately drew out the sensual display as she removed her boots.


    When she finally spoke, D''Lavina''s voice was laced with teasing innuendo. "You don''t need anything else to fight me, do you?" she purred. "I''m sure you''ve got all the equipment you need to handle me."


    Tyson wrestled with the decision at hand, realization dawning that her suggestive words likely related to the leader''s previous question. But in his distracted state, focused intently on D''Lavina, he hadn''t absorbed the leader''s words. The rational part of Tyson''s mind urged him to properly prepare for the impending combat. Yet as Tyson studied D''Lavina''s slender frame, doubt crept in. She did not seem particularly formidable. The thought of engaging her in combat, matching his strength against hers, held a strange, tempting appeal that clouded his judgment. "I can handle her," Tyson mumbled under his breath, the decision made¡­ or rather influenced by D''Lavina''s overt sexuality and inviting words.


    The leader''s lips curled into a knowing grin in response to Tyson''s declaration. "Very well," she said, her tone tinged with amusement.


    The terms had been set, the combatants chosen, and the stage set for the Barter by Combat.


    Tyson heard the leader''s command to begin, but it seemed distant, and unimportant compared to the woman before him. When the battle commenced, D''Lavina deliberately placed her dagger on a nearby console. Tyson''s gaze followed the curve of her hips as she shifted in a sensual display, baiting him. The rules of engagement faded from his mind, his focus narrowing to the beauty of his opponent. Though his brain warned caution, desire stirred recklessness within him. Tyson welcomed the temptation she offered. His blood heated with more than the thrill of the impending fight. Planning, tactics, and skill mattered little when primal instinct took over, subsumed by base urges.


    "You can put that dagger down," D''Lavina purred, her voice like warm honey. "You don''t need it when you have a sword." The suggestive words dripped with innuendo, and Tyson felt his grip on the dagger loosen. It slipped from his fingers to clatter loudly on the metal floor, the harsh sound did nothing to focus his attention on the ''battle'' he was engaging in. D''Lavina had effortlessly stripped him of his weapon through nothing more than her beguiling presence.


    Slowly, deliberately, D''Lavina raised one slender hand, crooking her finger in a sultry come-hither motion. The gesture was an alluring invitation, and though some distant part of Tyson''s mind warned him, he found himself being drawn inexorably closer as if pulled by an invisible tether.


    Though the Spacesuit protected Tyson from D''Lavina''s pheromones, or so he thought, he could feel the Blood Fever taking hold of his mind and body. The nearer he drew to D''Lavina, the more ensnared he became. She wielded her allure like a weapon, and Tyson may have realized at some level, but he didn''t care.


    D''Lavina ran her hands across his chest, igniting a fire within him that was becoming increasingly difficult to resist. Her hands traced down his torso, reaching his belt. She tapped the button, retracting his Spacesuit.


    Tyson reached up, of his own volition and removed the helmet, reattaching it to his belt. This close, her scent enveloped him fully. It was an exotic m¨¦lange of sweet and spicy notes, underpinned by an earthy musk that resonated within some primal part of him.


    Leveraging the full power of her allure, D¡¯Lavina rose up on her toes, warm breath tickling Tyson¡¯s ear as she whispered words that were both invitation and command. ¡°I want you. You¡¯ll be mine. Just say the words. Tell me, tell them all, that you submit to me.¡± Her voice was soft and sultry, each syllable laden with sensual promise if he would only surrender. Her proximity was like a drug, the temptation she offered was too powerful to resist.


    Tyson''s hand caressed D''Lavina''s taut stomach, his fingers trailing upward to encircle her neck. His other arm snaked around her waist, pulling her body flush against his. A smile curved her full lips, an invitation for him to surrender to her advances. Yet, to her surprise, his grip tightened, the caress becoming a threat.


    "You''ll be mine," Tyson stated with certainty, his fingers constricting around her throat. The gesture went beyond teasing, a display of his strength that left D''Lavina at his mercy. His dominance should have been alarming, but the barest spark of arousal ignited within her as the roles reversed.


    Tyson''s grip tightened further, threatening to cut off her air supply and blood flow. The Orion woman''s breath hitched as Tyson''s strong fingers constricted around her slender throat. The gesture was no longer teasing. It was a raw display of his physical power, leaving D''Lavina completely at his mercy. To her surprise, the vulnerability ignited a faint spark of arousal within her. Their roles had reversed. Now she was the one ensnared in his grasp.


    Tyson tightened his grip further with an implicit threat. D''Lavina found herself trapped, yet thrilled by his bold assertion of dominance over her. Leaning in close, his warm breath tickled her ear as he echoed her earlier sultry tone in a low rumble. "Tell them you submit to me. Give yourself to me."


    A violent shudder rocked the ship before she could respond, interrupting their heated battle of wills. The unexpected impact jolted them, their focus instantly shifting as they braced themselves. Tyson relaxed his hold on her slender throat, whipping around to assess the source of the disturbance. D''Lavina gasped for breath, massaging her tender neck. The heady tension of moments before evaporated, replaced by wariness.


    Suddenly, the deck plates beneath the Orions'' feet bucked wildly as the Tramp Freighter resumed its earlier violent shudders. The Orions were hurled violently to the grated floor as the ship''s convulsions tossed them about like rag dolls.


    Tyson gritted his teeth, bracing his legs wide to keep his balance against the rolling deck. The ship''s inertial dampeners were struggling and failing to compensate for the unpredictable turbulence. He spared a glance down at the cursing Orions, few were able to keep their footing, D''Lavina among them, but only because Tyson''s steadying arm was still locked around her waist.


    Though deep within a haze of lust, Tyson was able to retain his footing. The tremors that had calmed upon entering the anomaly now returned with a vengeance, rocking the ship with such force that some of the Orions were knocked unconscious. Others suffered broken bones or worse from the battering.


    Those Orions still clinging to consciousness scrambled to reach their stations and regain some control over their battered ship. A woman''s voice called out, "I think we''re exiting the anomaly!" offering a faint hope that their ordeal might soon be at an end.


    But that hope died quickly. The convulsions intensified, even more savage than before as if the ship thrashed to break free of the anomaly''s grip in a desperate bid. The environmental systems were strained past their limits, and could no longer maintain artificial gravity or sustain the crew.


    One by one, the ravaging forces overwhelmed them, their bodies surrendering to the darkness as they lost their battle to remain conscious. Floating and unable to brace himself, Tyson reached for the helmet at his belt hoping to engage the Spacesuit. But an unknown object blindsided him, crashing into the back of his head.


    The bridge now held only still figures, the crew lost to the blackness that had claimed them.

 Season 1: Episode 3.2 - The Endar Spire

    Season 1: Episode 3.2 - The Endar Spire


    Stardate: 4 1 1 6 0


    Earth Standard Date: February 28, 2364


    Galactic Standard Date: Unknown


    Location: Unknown


    The air was tinged with the antiseptic scent typical of medical bays. Tyson''s eyes fluttered open to a room that was not the medical bay he expected. It lacked the sleek lines of the Enterprise-D sickbay or the Vulcan-filled biobeds of the Medical Bay in his Personal Reality. It also didn''t match the utilitarian design aesthetics he saw on the bridge of the Tramp Freighter. Instead, this place was filled with technology, panels, and medical instruments, most of which Tyson couldn''t immediately identify.


    Tyson attempted to sit up, wincing as a dull ache coursed through his body. Taking a moment to gather himself, he glanced around the medical bay, assessing his unfamiliar surroundings. Beds lined one wall, though only one other seemed occupied. The chest of the man lying there was rising and falling steadily in the rhythm of deep unconsciousness. His face looked peaceful, undisturbed by the soft beeps and occasional whirs of machinery that filled the space. Reassuringly, the man was human, not Orion.


    In the far corner, a large circular window offered a glimpse of the star-studded void outside, suggesting the bay''s location aboard a ship, though Tyson had no idea which vessel he found himself on.


    Tyson tried to recall how he had ended up in this unfamiliar medical bay, but the details evaded him, lost in a fog that clouded his thoughts. His last clear memory was of being transported onto the Tramp Freighter, demanding the Rite of ''Barter by Combat'', and feeling close to resolving the Blood Fever Drawback that plagued him by finding satisfaction with one of the alluring Orion women. Or maybe he was about to lose that ''Barter by Combat'' and become her willing servant, it was hard to tell... Now here he was, in an unknown ship, in an unknown location, with only an unconscious stranger to keep him company.


    He swung his legs over the side of the bed. His intention to explore was cut short as he glanced down at his wrists. Metal bands encircled them, he''d been locked in handcuffs. He tugged against them experimentally but they held fast.


    Frustration welled up within him. The cuffs were tight enough to chafe if he struggled. He had no memory of how he had ended up in restraints. Had he lost that duel and become a willing servant? The details evaded him, lost in the fog that clouded his thoughts.


    His gaze returned to the unconscious man resting nearby, studying the stranger''s peaceful face and wondering what series of events had led to them sharing this medical bay. Was this man an ally, an enemy, or like Tyson himself simply an unwitting victim of circumstance? For now, the answer eluded Tyson, however, he did notice, that unlike himself, the man wasn''t bound.


    Sighing, he leaned back against the bed. The steady beep of the machines counted the seconds as he wracked his mind trying to remember what had brought him to this unfamiliar place.


    A sudden tremor coursed through the room, jolting Tyson from his contemplation. His first thought, born from the string of recent misadventures, was that he had found himself, once again, in the merciless grip of a space anomaly. He hurried to the window and pressed his bound hands against the cool glass, eyes urgently scanning the void beyond for any telltale signs of cosmic distortion.


    Instead, the endless black canvas of space was alight with the furious dance of combat. Fighter craft darted to and fro, their angular forms cutting sharp silhouettes against the backdrop of distant stars. They unleashed coordinated volleys upon the ship Tyson currently occupied, their attacks were punctuated by bright flashes of impact and deeper, bone-rattling tremors.


    Tyson studied the unknown designs of the attacking fighters intently, searching his extensive knowledge for anything familiar. But the vessels bore no resemblance to Klingon ships or the sweeping curves of Romulan vessels. These were something different, something unfamiliar. The realization that he didn''t immediately recognize these craft with his meta-knowledge was oddly unsettling. Additionally, from what he could recall, the widespread use of fighter squadrons had only truly come into prominence during the Dominion War. Their presence here felt out of place, another unexplained inconsistency to compound his confusion.


    Tyson found himself alone, save the mysterious stranger. Q''s warning echoed in his mind.


    "Companions may seem unnecessary in a place like the Enterprise, where the crew is always working cooperatively toward common goals or under direct orders. You will not always be on the Enterprise."


    Yet Tyson had not expected that day to come so soon.


    With no other options, Tyson turned to the footlocker situated at the end of the bed on which he had awoken. Inside lay the items he had previously purchased with his CP; the helmet and belt that comprised his Spacesuit, the Laser Sword, and a small handheld device.


    Tyson''s eyes narrowed as he focused on the bonds around his wrists.


    With care, Tyson activated the Laser Sword clutched in his bound hands. The laser did not project the sparking plasma beam he had expected from a ''lightsaber''. What he could see was a shaft of intense light, focused and contained, extending from the hilt. More a coherent beam of terminating laser light, than actual plasma, so far as he observed.


    The brilliant beam of light hummed as he brought it close to his skin. Millimeter by millimeter, he adjusted the angle and distance, until the blue beam barely kissed the metal of his bonds. The laser inched along the cuff, slicing through the metal with ease. But even the slightest mistake would mean losing a hand. Tyson''s enhanced dexterity allowed him to guide the sword steadily, like a master surgeon wielding a scalpel. The beam continued its path, freeing first one wrist, then the other. As the cuffs clattered to the floor, Tyson let out a breath he hadn''t realized he''d been holding and switched off the weapon.


    Tyson flexed his freed hands, relief washing over him. Donning the helmet and belt, he attached the Laser Sword hilt to his belt. He then retrieved the device from the footlocker, turning it over in his hands. It appeared to be some form of electronic journal, similar to a PADD or tablet, though far less refined than the technology aboard the Enterprise. As Tyson activated the device, words began scrolling across the smooth screen. He began reading intently, hoping the journal might provide some clues as to his current situation.


    Tramp Freighter (Item)


    Sometimes used as a light troop carrier, the Tramp Freighter is a cozy starship for the Do-It-Yourself crowd. Favored by smugglers and honest traders alike, it¡¯s got lots of nooks and crannies throughout the ship. The cargo bays can be converted to bunks in troop carrier configuration allowing it to hold 40 passengers. Comes equipped with standard life support, sub-light engines, an FTL drive, sensors, shields, and at least one defensive weapon like a laser cannon or a missile pod. Unless noted, the ships comfortably hold a dozen crew/passengers.


    [+300 SP] The Voyager Problem (Drawback)


    It seems that you¡¯ve been catapulted across space to another place entirely. You¡¯re somewhere in a different galaxy. As if things couldn¡¯t be worse, another ship arrived with you... one who had half of their crew killed. Unfortunately, they¡¯re from another faction than yours, and you don''t exactly get along.


    As Tyson absorbed the information he realized that the Tramp Freighter Item and the Voyager Problem Drawback had likely been combined by Q, leading to the anomaly that brought him here.


    Tyson processed this unwelcome news. He was stranded in this distant galaxy. Instead of worrying, he turned his focus to the device in his hands, scrolling through the list of available options. The familiar choices from his time in the Star Trek universe were conspicuously absent, replaced by generic selections.


    Still, one option in particular caught his eye. It was unconventional and comparatively expensive, but it had great potential.


    Tyson thought back to his time on the Seleya and the Recruiting Station, which would have allowed him to recruit an unlimited number of canon characters for 100 CP. The option he was now considering would cost that same 100 CP just to begin, but if Tyson was right, it could provide him with an invaluable Companion.


    The ship rocked under the force of another explosion, the attack still raging strong against its hull. Tyson wasted no more time contemplating. He''d paid for Q''s advice with the drawback that landed him in this situation, and he wouldn''t take the omnipotent being''s advice lightly. He''d implement the selection and find himself more allies. With the decision made, he quickly selected the option on the device''s display.


    [100 CP] V-Ko IV Nursedroid (Item)


    This is a high-end Nursedroid and can do some things that are from other robot lines. It has a dedicated database of species and illnesses, which updates for each setting and it can also collect data on encountered pathogens, flora, and fauna, including sapient races, for future study. All of the V-Ko line has internal miniaturized manufacturing for drugs. Your model has an unlocked database, allowing it to produce any drug you need, and can analyze drugs or liquids by consuming them orally for further production.*


    Character Points: 1450


    Tyson was aware that the V-Ko IV Nursedroid was an Item, not a true Companion. The purchase of the droid was but the first step in a longer process. But before Tyson could solidify his thoughts regarding additional purchases, the tremors wracking the ship grew fierce enough to jar the unconscious man lying prone on the biobed back into the waking world.


    The man jerked upright, eyes snapping open to frantically take in the room. He noticed the battle raging on and the explosions blossoming through the window.


    Tyson approached the biobed, trying to exude calm confidence. "Hey there, good to see you awake," he began, his voice steady and reassuring. "I''m Tyson. Looks like we''ve found ourselves in a bit of trouble here."


    After a prolonged, silence-filled moment where the muted sounds of battle were the only conversation, the man seemed to gather himself. "My name is¡­ Avner," he stated simply, uncertainty tingeing his voice.


    Before either man could say more, the medical bay''s doors whisked open. A harried crewman burst into the room, his expression taut with the acute stress of battle. He dispensed with pleasantries. "We''ve been ambushed by a Sith battle fleet! The Endar Spire is under attack!"


    Avner, still wrestling with his bearings, furrowed his brow. "What''s the Endar Spire?" His voice carried the lingering fog of recent unconsciousness.


    The newcomer''s face contorted in disbelief at Avner''s question. "What, did you hit your head harder than we thought?" he retorted, urgency tingeing his tone. "I''m Trask Ulgo, Ensign with the Republic fleet. This ship is the Endar Spire. Now hurry! We must find Bastila and ensure she escapes alive."


    Tyson stood motionless, letting the revelations wash over him. The mention of a Sith battle fleet sent a chill slithering down his spine. He knew of the Sith. He wasn''t in the Star Trek universe, The Next Generation, Enterprise, or otherwise. This was¡­


    Star Wars.


    From what he recalled, in the Star Wars movies, there were always only two Sith, a Master and an Apprentice. The Sith did not have battle fleets¡­


    But then understanding dawned as the pieces fell into place. Hearing Bastila''s name had been the key. The only Bastila he knew of was Bastila Shan, a major character and companion in Knights of the Old Republic. The situation unfolding around him mirrored the opening sequences of that game¡­ A ship under siege by Sith forces, a desperate struggle to survive, and an urgent need to save Bastila Shan.


    Tyson''s gaze shifted slowly back to the man who had awakened and identified himself as Avner. The implications were staggering. If this situation followed the narrative of Knights of the Old Republic, and Tyson''s meta-knowledge held true, then the man before him, ''Avner'', was none other than...


    Revan.


    The character was at the very heart of the game''s story. Revan had been a Jedi whose path led him to wage war and turn to the dark side, only to be betrayed, mind-wiped, and returned to the Republic as a blank slate. Now here he stood, a man with immense capacity for both light and dark.


    A curse escaped Tyson''s lips, an instinctive response to the overwhelming realization crashing down on him. He stood on the brink of an epic story, but it only raised more questions in his mind. How closely would their reality adhere to the original tale? What should he do about coming events? The only saving grace was that, if his meta-knowledge held accurate, Revan himself was unaware of his true identity.


    Tyson''s curse directed Trask¡¯s focus onto himself, "You''re lucky to be alive," Trask began, "We found you on that small freighter we took in. Half the crew was dead! The only reason you survived was because of the help from that nursedroid of yours. She¡¯s a real looker, but wouldn¡¯t help anyone but you. I see you slipped your cuffs. We took you into custody because the women that you were holding captive told us you were a Space Pirate. But none of that matters now that the Sith are attacking. " The confusion Tyson felt must have been as clearly written on his face. Trask was compelled to continue, his patience wearing thin. "Does no one around here remember what¡¯s happening?" He sighed heavily, the weight of the situation bearing down on him.


    Addressing both Avner and Tyson, Trask laid out the stark reality of their predicament. "We don¡¯t have much time. Bastila¡¯s the commanding officer, the one in charge of this mission. Our primary duty is to ensure her survival in the event of an enemy attack." His gaze fixed on Avner, sharp and demanding. "You signed an oath just like everyone on this mission, now it''s time to make good on it." Turning to Tyson, he added, "As for you, Space Pirate, you should come with us. We¡¯ve got to stick together if we want to make it out of this alive. And I know you types are good at looking out for yourself. So hurry up and grab your gear, you need to suit up so we can get out of here!"


    Avner was spurred into action by Trask''s words and hurried to the footlocker at the base of his bed. Tyson had already looted his footlocker. As Avner extracted a combat outfit and a sword from the footlocker, Tyson returned his attention to the tablet.


    Tyson intended to finish making his Companion selections, but a new notification drew his attention. Tyson had a new selection to choose from.


    Specialization


    Every Force user must decide how they wish to develop their powers. Pick a path.


    Strength


    Intelligence


    Balance


    If you come across this story on Amazon, it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it.


    Tyson hardly hesitated. A quick glance over what each path offered revealed that the Intelligence path was the best option for him. Strength offered a natural talent for combat-related skills, but Tyson was already heavily combat-oriented thanks to his other Perks. He chose Intelligence.


    Force Specialization: Intelligence (Perk)


    The path of the Jedi consular and the Sith inquisitors. Your mental abilities are stronger and you have an easier time learning skills and Force powers. Includes a bonus Force Power: Force Heal. This ability lets you rapidly accelerate your, or others body¡¯s natural healing process. It can be used to mend injuries and cure diseases. Force Specialization includes basic training in Lightsabers, Blasters, Telepathy, Telekinesis, Empathy, Force Speed, Farsight, Force Stealth, Force Sight, and Mind Trick.


    Tyson felt something profound stir within him.


    The Force.


    It swept over his being like he''d been flung into a turbulent ocean of invisible energy. Raw, intangible, and ethereal, the Force permeated every atom of his existence. Each cell seemed to pulse in time with this incredible power that resonated through him. The Force felt boundless, a vast field of wild energy teeming with life, emotion, and intent. It was like a tapestry of ethereal threads woven into the very fabric of existence. Euphoria rushed through Tyson as he could sense the life around him on the ship, feel the residual echoes of emotions and intent beyond the normal range of his empathy. The whispers of the past and hints of the future rippled at the edge of his consciousness. His perception expanded, enveloping and connecting him to more than just his physical self.


    Tyson opened his eyes and looked at what he had acquired for free with his Drop-In Origin in this universe.


    [Free (Discounted)] Tactical Info (Perk)


    You gain a basic HUD. In addition to standard functions, it allows you to access your character information and Perks and Drawbacks selections. Note: You cannot make purchases through your HUD while in combat.


    [Free] Lightsaber (Item)


    The signature weapon of Jedi and Sith alike. You gain a single unaugmented blade.


    Tyson turned his attention back to the footlocker, inside he now found a lightsaber hilt, where there hadn''t been one a moment before. He quickly clasped the cylindrical metal handle to his belt, positioning it opposite the Laser Sword already hanging at his hip.


    Glancing around, Tyson realized he was the last of the crew to finish gearing up. He addressed Trask, "Where''s my droid? And where is the freighter we arrived on?" Tyson asked, eager to gather his assets and ally.


    Trask responded, "Your droid is in the storage closet over there," he said, gesturing towards a nondescript door set into the wall of the ship''s interior. "The freighter is docked in the main hangar bay."


    At this information, Tyson moved to the indicated storage closet. The door slid open automatically at his approach, revealing nursedroid, a V-KO IV model.


    Tyson halted in his tracks as his eyes fell upon the droid, taking a moment to study her unexpected form. Trask''s prior words echoed in his mind, mentioning she was a looker, yet Tyson had dismissed it as a joke and him assigning female pronouns to a genderless object. He expected the nursedroid would be mechanically utilitarian in design, as was prevalent in the Star Wars aesthetic. Droids here were decidedly robotic, metal limbs and parts exposed rather than hidden beneath synthskin. This served to emphasize their nature as creations, not living beings.


    Yet the droid before him challenged those preconceptions. She struck a balance between droid and humanoid that leaned far closer to a feminine cybernetic form. Her body was sheathed in a fitted blue uniform, the fabric hugging curves rather than hard edges. Though mechanical elements were visible, such as the plating on her thighs and upper arms, they did not detract from her humanoid femininity. A charging cord, that looked like a tail, extended from a port on her back, was the most glaring reminder of her robotic origins.


    Tyson''s gaze was drawn to her face. With vibrant pink hair styled into buns and delicate features, she possessed a beauty exceeding any droid Tyson had encountered. Her eyes flickered on with artificial awareness. Tyson understood now why Trask had assigned her female pronouns. Her designers had crafted her to evoke femininity in both form and function.


    Tyson watched with fascination as the droid''s eyes flickered to life. With a soft click, the charging cable tail detached from the wall and withdrew seamlessly into a port on her belt. He found himself transfixed, unable to tear his gaze away as she drew nearer. Having seen many droids before in the various movies and games, utilitarian and functional in their design, but none that moved with such elegance or embodied femininity so convincingly as her. To Tyson''s eyes, she seemed more human than she was a droid, though there were hints of her true robotic nature. She was synthetic, yet Tyson was struck by the sense of awareness within her eyes as if a soul resided within her artificial shell.


    "Greetings. I am designated as V-KO IV, but you may address me as Vicky," she said. Her voice was smooth and sultry in a way that no droid Tyson had ever seen in fiction could match. Her cadence and diction still held the aspects of the formal structure of an automaton, yet interwoven within was an alluring undertone.


    "It is my utmost pleasure to meet you, Master," Vicky continued, placing a subtle yet unmistakable emphasis on the word ''pleasure'' that had Tyson tilting his head with curiosity. "I am programmed to provide comprehensive support, tailored not only to your medical needs but designed to accommodate a wide spectrum of personal requirements."


    "Should you have any specific preferences or require assistance of a more... personalized nature, please feel free to express them," Vicky offered, her delicate phrasing implying services that stretched far beyond the purely professional. Tyson''s eyes widened slightly at the implicit invitation woven into her words.


    He eyed the droid up and down, taking in her alluring appearance. He chided himself for even noticing. This was no time for distractions. Clearing his throat, he met her gaze directly. "It''s a pleasure to meet you, Vicky. My name is Tyson," he began, "I apologize for the strange circumstances of our introduction." He paused, considering how to phrase his next question. "I understand you''re programmed as a medical droid, but I must ask, are you equipped for any combat functions?"


    Vicky''s response was immediate, composed, and professional. "In the event of an emergency, I am capable of deploying an electrical discharge from my charging tail, sufficient to temporarily incapacitate an attacker," she explained. "However, my core programming focuses on medical assistance and patient care."


    As Tyson listened, his eyes roved over the droid. He made an effort to steer his thoughts away from the droid''s figure. Could this be another onset of the Blood Fever symptoms? He needed to stay focused.


    "Alright then. Stay behind me and stay safe, but try to keep up," he instructed firmly, setting the tone for their impending escape from the medical bay. There would be time later to unravel the mysteries of Vicky''s programming.


    Tyson stepped away from the supply closet, the medical droid Vicky following closely in his wake. Avner and Trask were already in position by the large sliding door that served as the medical bay''s sole exit. Trask took the lead and approached the door''s control panel, initiating the opening sequence with an impatient stab of his finger. The door slid open with a smooth, whispering hiss, revealing the dimly lit corridor beyond. As they stepped out into the hall, Tyson''s electronic journal chirped, signaling an incoming message. He glanced down in surprise as a video feed popped up on its display. Tyson handed off his tablet to Avner without a word. The message was streaming directly to Tyson''s HUD too, sparing him the need to crowd around the small screen.


    The screen filled with the rugged, determined face of a man. His words were fraught with urgency as he introduced himself. "This is Carth Onasi calling all crew. The Sith are threatening to overrun our position on the bridge. Their firepower is overwhelming. We can''t hold out for long." His voice dropped with grim finality. "All hands report to the bridge immediately to defend Bastila!"


    Overhearing the desperate message, Trask''s expression turned grave. "Carth Onasi is one of the Republic''s best pilots and soldiers," he said somberly. "If he says things are dire, you''d better believe it. We need to get to the bridge right away to help defend Bastila and the rest of the crew."


    The trio set off down the corridor, moving past a repair droid, still busily attending to its duties, seemingly oblivious to the chaos and destruction engulfing the Endar Spire. The constant tremors rumbling under their feet served as an ominous reminder of the raging conflict that had overtaken the ship.


    Approaching a closed bulkhead door barring their way, Trask''s face fell. "Blast! I don''t have the security codes to open this one," he admitted. But his resolve remained unshaken. "Give me a moment to slice the door controls open." Moving to the access panel, his fingers flew in practiced motion across the keys, utilizing his security skills to override the encrypted lock.


    With a groan, the bulkhead door finally slid open. On the other side, a lone Republic soldier was engaged in a desperate standoff against two figures clad in menacing silver armor over a black underweave. The confrontation was brutally brief; the Republic soldier cried out as he was ruthlessly gunned down before their eyes.


    Trask''s reaction was instant, a mix of anger and duty driving him forward. "Those Sith must be the advanced boarding party!" Drawing his blaster with a steely hiss, his voice rang out as a rallying cry. "For the Republic!" With those words, he charged headlong into the fray.


    Tyson held out a halting hand towards Vicky, a silent instruction for her to keep her distance from the skirmish.


    With a shout, Trask hurled himself into the fray, blaster barking as he engaged the Sith invaders. Avner was only a half-step behind, as he swung his sword. Together, the two made short work of the silver-armored soldiers.


    In the aftermath, Tyson moved among the fallen enemies, hoping to salvage what he could for his own use. He retrieved the Siths'' discarded rifles, long-barreled blasters meant to be gripped with both hands. Two-handed weapons were not ideal for his fighting style, which best utilized his Master with Your Hands perk, but blaster rifles were better than nothing if ranged combat proved necessary. "It''ll do for now," he muttered, testing the heft of the looted weapons.


    He turned and offered one of the rifles to Vicky. "I know you''re not made for fighting. But if someone gets past me, point this at them and pull the trigger. Understand?"


    "Yes, Master. Thank you for considering my safety," the droid replied in her calm monotone. There was a hint of something more in her words. Gratitude? It was gone before he could be certain.


    He began stripping armor from the dead Sith, but Trask''s urgent shout put a stop to that. "No time for that now!" Up ahead, Avner had already breached the next doorway to reveal two more silver-clad invaders. With a fierce cry, the warrior charged to meet them, sword flashing. Trask followed close behind, forcing Tyson to abandon his scavenging and raise his captured rifle to join the attack.


    Tyson hurried to catch up to Avner and Trask, finding the duo had already dispatched the pair of Sith soldiers by the time he arrived. His captured blaster rifle remained unused in his hands, rendered unnecessary by the lethal efficiency of his companions. However, amongst the fallen foes, Tyson spied a pair of short swords far better suited to his martial talents. Avner, already equipped with a similar blade, paid the weapons no mind. But Tyson recognized their potential value. He clipped the cumbersome rifle to his belt and snatched up the twin blades. He saw no need to reveal either his Lightsaber or Laser Sword just yet.


    They pressed onward, following Avner''s lead. As they neared the next corner, the din of battle grew louder. Rounding the bend, a grim scene awaited. The Republic soldiers lay fallen, defeated by a platoon of six Sith troops.


    Yet Avner''s resourcefulness and combat mastery shone through once more. Seizing a grenade from one of the previously slain foes, he hurled it into the midst of the Sith platoon. The blast devastated their ranks, leaving only a sole survivor for Avner to swiftly cut down with a precise sword strike.


    Witnessing this formidable display, gave Tyson pause. Avner navigated the battlefield with ease, demonstrating strategic intellect and lethal efficiency. His capabilities painted a vivid picture of the dormant potential within him. That someone bereft of memory could exhibit such prowess was both awe-inspiring and deeply troubling. He shuddered at the thought of Avner regaining his full faculties, including mastery of the Force. But Tyson recognized Avner''s skills improved their odds of surviving this crisis. The ethical dilemma posed by his possible return as a Sith Lord could wait until they escaped the present danger. Tyson resolved to stay focused on the immediate threat but would keep a wary eye on Avner.


    The group equipped themselves with the grenades and medpacs gathered from the fallen Sith troopers. Several of the medpacs went to Vicky, who efficiently stored them within her chassis.


    Avner took the lead as they navigated the ship''s corridors until he slid a door open to reveal a fierce duel underway. A man wielding a crimson lightsaber battled furiously against a woman with an azure blade.


    Trask''s reaction was one of caution. "It''s a Dark Jedi! And that woman is one of the Jedi meant to guard Bastila. This fight is beyond us. We''d only get in their way," he warned, recognizing the power on display and the danger of interfering.


    The two warriors were a blur of motion and color, their lightsabers crashing together with such ferocity it was clear the combatants were evenly matched. Tyson, however, would not stand idly by while the fate of the ship hung in the balance. The stakes were too high to remain a passive observer if it risked the Jedi''s defeat. He turned to Trask, "I need your blaster pistol." Despite Trask''s protests and emphasis on non-interference, Tyson pressed on, challenging his assumptions, "What if she loses? Can you fight a Dark Jedi?"


    Faced with the irrefutable logic of Tyson''s argument and the uncertainty ahead, Trask reluctantly conceded. He handed over his blaster pistol, taking Tyson''s blaster rifle in exchange.


    The blaster pistol felt different from the phasers he''d used, but Tyson did not hesitate. Trusting in his Perks, he raised the pistol and fired without really aiming. His first shot streaked toward the Dark Jedi.


    Forced to break off his attack and dodge, the Sith gave ground before the unexpected assault, allowing the female Jedi precious breathing room to recover and maneuver.


    Tyson advanced steadily, keeping up a constant stream of fire. Each shot was carefully placed to divide the Dark Jedi''s attention and create openings in his defense. Though skilled enough to continue engaging the Jedi while parrying or dodging the blaster bolts, the Sith found himself hard-pressed by this new threat. Tyson''s intervention had tipped the scales of the duel in the Jedi''s favor. She seemed to move in harmony with Tyson''s shots, her lightsaber slipping through gaps in the Sith''s guard created by each bolt. The Force flowed through her, guiding her strikes. Her fluid motions were a perfect counterpoint to Tyson''s aggressive support.


    The Jedi went on the attack, her lightsaber carving radiant arcs through the air as she pressed the Dark Jedi. With Tyson harrying him from one side, the Sith was forced to divide his efforts, parrying desperately to keep both opponents at bay. But the female Jedi was a whirlwind, her blade cutting swathes with each powerful strike. She was a tempest, drawing deeply on the Force to fuel her mastery of the lightsaber forms against her foe.


    As soon as he was within range, Tyson activated his own Lightsaber, the green plasma blade thrumming to life. Though only a novice with the iconic Jedi weapon, his other skills and Perks made him dangerously capable. He moved in sync with the woman, taking over as the primary combatant driving the Sith back. The Jedi struck at every gap Tyson created, their teamwork flawless. Tyson''s blade blurred, the Dark Jedi struggling to mount any counter-attack beneath the sustained assault.


    Battered by Tyson''s devastating blows and unable to find any weakness to exploit, the Sith''s defenses began to fail. Each of Tyson''s attacks cracked through the Dark Jedi''s guard, chipping away at his stamina and resolve.


    Sensing her opponent faltering, the Jedi followed up with a blistering series of strikes too swift and powerful for the Dark Jedi to parry. Her final lunge found its mark in the Sith''s chest. The clash of plasma drowned the Dark Jedi''s cry of defeat as he fell, his life extinguished like a flickering candle.


    Silence descended on the corridor, broken only by the electric hum of the Jedi''s lightsaber and the heavy breathing of the victors. Tyson lowered his pistol and deactivated his blade, adrenaline still surging through his veins from the fierce duel. Unfortunately, he hadn''t defeated the Dark Jedi in single combat. Tyson could still feel the Blood Fever pulsing within him.


    <hr>


    Tyson


    Origins: Human, Humanoid, Drop-In, Space Pirate, Bad Guy


    Race: Augment Human-Betazoid (Hybrid)


    Character Points: 1450


    Reality Points: 500


    Ship Points: 1300


    Credits: 0


    Status Effects: (none)


    Drawbacks:


    Gauntlet (Locked)


    Ensign Marty Stu


    A Simple Re¡¯Q¡¯uest


    Hybrid (Betazoid)


    Amok Time/Blood Fever


    Outlawed


    The Voyager Problem


    Perks:


    Cosmic Awareness


    Out of Nowhere


    Going Native


    Live and Let Live


    This is (Not?) Rocket Science


    Kinda Bland


    Determinator


    Painted On


    Snakeskin


    Adaptable


    Duelist


    Master with your Hands


    Best of the Best


    Everything Is A Weapon


    Augment


    Force Specialization: Intelligence


    Tactical Info


    Items:


    Laser Blade


    Spacesuit


    Agony Booth


    Cloaking Minefield


    V-KO IV Nursedroid


    Lightsaber


    Personal Reality:


    Access Key


    Security System


    Inter-Reality Connecting Door (Star Trek Enterprise)


    Medical Bay


    Spaceships:


    Tramp Freighter

 Season 1: Episode 3.3 - The Escape

    Season 1: Episode 3.3 - The Escape


    Stardate: 4 1 1 6 0


    Earth Standard Date: February 28, 2364


    Galactic Standard Date: Unknown


    Location: Unknown


    Before Tyson could properly greet the Jedi woman, his breath caught in his throat as an ominous sensation gripped him. A vivid vision burst into his mind''s eye with startling clarity.


    The durasteel wall behind the Jedi rippled and warped, the air around her shimmering. Then the wall detonated in a thunderous explosion, a swirling vortex of fire and shattered metal. The Jedi was engulfed by the maelstrom, and killed by the blast.


    The vision flashed through Tyson''s mind in an instant but left his heart pounding wildly in his chest. Reeling from the vivid intrusion, he knew with sudden certainty that it wasn''t a daydream or a hallucination, it was a glimpse of a possible future. A future that he now had the chance to change.


    Adrenaline flooded Tyson''s veins as instinct moved him into action before conscious thought could catch up.


    The air around the woman began to tremble and warp, shimmering like a mirage. In his vision, it was the first sign he''d seen of the approaching cataclysm. Tyson knew with heart-sinking certainty that he would never reach her in time to divert the disaster.


    Instead, he reached out desperately to the Force, channeling every ounce of emotion and will into a plea to save her. The Force responded to his call, rippling outward from Tyson in a powerful wave that knocked back everything in its path, including the Jedi woman. The pulse of energy struck her moments before the wall erupted in a deafening shockwave.


    The deck plates shuddered violently as debris rained down from all directions amidst the thunderous roar. Tyson''s yell was drowned out by the explosion''s intense heat as a barrage of shattered metal consumed everything around them. For those few harrowing seconds, time seemed to slow to a crawl as they were enveloped in the destruction.


    The dust settled slowly in the wake of the violent explosion, revealing the true extent of the surrounding devastation. Jagged shards of metal and debris littered the corridor.


    Tyson stood cautiously as he took in the scene. Though the blast had been powerful enough to rupture the deck plates beneath their feet, somehow neither flame nor shrapnel had touched him. Around him was a perfect circle of calm in the center of the destruction. The surrounding space was miraculously clear of debris and untouched. Tyson realized what he had done. In that split second before the explosion, he had not just used the Force to push the Jedi woman away. The Force had responded to his desperate call, rippling outward in a Force Wave that knocked back everything in its path. It was as if he had been the eye of a hurricane of telekinetic force that blew away the fire and metal.


    Urgently, Tyson moved into the debris, desperate to find the Jedi woman he had tried to save. He spotted her crumpled form half-buried in the rubble and raced to her side. She was in rough shape, her body marred by burns and pockmarked with shrapnel, but she was alive.


    Tyson shouted, "Vicky!"


    The Nursedriod came rushing forward, medpacs already in hand. As Vicky began treating the Jedi''s extensive injuries, Tyson knelt beside her and stretched his hands over her injured body.


    Having chosen Force Specialization: Intelligence, the Perk had granted him access to the Force Heal power. Reaching out, he beseeched the Force for guidance and aid. A soft blue glow emanated from his palms, spilling over the Jedi like the gentle waves of an ocean. Though her words came out strained and weak, the Jedi woman looked up at him with gratitude in her eyes.


    "The Force is strong with you," she whispered.


    Still reeling from the day''s events and yet another unexpected turn, Tyson could only nod, never breaking his connection to the Force as it worked through him to heal the Jedi.


    Avner and Trask approached cautiously, taking in the grim scene before them. The corridor was a wasteland of twisted metal and shattered deck plating in the wake of the devastating explosion. At the edge of this devastation knelt Tyson, his hands aglow as he channeled the Force to heal the injured Jedi woman.


    Trask''s expression was one of awe mingled with wariness as he witnessed this display of power. He knew of the Jedi''s mystical abilities and had even fought alongside them on occasions, but to see their powers manifested so vividly was still a surreal experience. Clearing his throat, he addressed Tyson, "We don''t have much time," Trask stated, "That explosion is sure to have drawn more Sith reinforcements. We''ll clear the way ahead to the bridge. You can catch up when you''re able."


    Though he loathed splitting their party, Tyson recognized the wisdom in Trask''s suggestion and had few options otherwise unless he planned to leave the injured Jedi behind. With a solemn nod, he agreed. "Go on ahead. I''ll join you as soon as I can get her stabilized."


    Avner gave a curt nod of assent, turning to Trask, he said, "Lead on."


    The two men continued down the shattered corridor, advancing toward the bridge. Tyson didn''t watch them go, focusing solely on the healing energies flowing through him. The sounds of renewed blaster fire echoed back from the path ahead, though he barely registered it.


    The female Jedi stirred beneath his ministrations. Though in pain, her voice held a serenity as she addressed him. "You have shown great courage and compassion today. The Force guided you to intervene, did it not?"


    Tyson chose his words carefully before replying. "I just knew I had to act."


    "I am Jedi Knight Alysia Rahn," she introduced herself. Her eyes, gradually gaining focus and lucidity, studied him intently. "I don''t know you. Who was your master?"


    "My name is Tyson. I am not a Jedi," he admitted after a pause. He had no idea how to explain himself.


    Alysia showed no reaction to this revelation, merely absorbing the information. "Well, you''re not a Sith," she observed evenly, her tone free of judgment. "Untrained then," she concluded. "And your lightsaber?" She asked.


    Feeling exposed under her perceptive gaze, Tyson confessed honestly, "I inherited it." He didn''t mention he inherited it from a Perk, not a family member. "I never felt the Force before today. Right after our battle, I saw a vision of the wall exploding. I needed to get to you, to protect you..." He trailed off, emotion creeping into his voice. "But I wasn''t fast enough. All I could do was try to throw you out of the way, and I failed at that."


    Alysia''s expression grew solemn, "You have been granted a rare gift. A glimpse into the currents of the Force and the possible futures that flow from them. Such visions are powerful, but also fraught with peril if misinterpreted. Foresight, and Healing. Both are uncommon Force abilities. Healing is usually only seen among Jedi Consulars." Her eyes locked with Tyson''s, "Regardless of where you came from. You have my thanks," she added softly.


    Vicky spoke up then, "Master, she''s stabilized. I''m afraid there''s little more we can do here, with the limited supplies available. Under normal circumstances I''d recommend rest and no strenuous activities for several days, maybe even a few weeks. But I fear we don''t have that luxury, given the deteriorating state of the ship."


    Alysia reached out a hand. "Best be on our way then. Help me up, I''ll be fine to get to the bridge, and hopefully off this ship."


    But Tyson held out a hand, not to help Alysia up, but to forestall her moving. "Please wait a moment, I might have an alternative solution." Tyson pulled his Access Key from his pocket and moved to the nearest door with a panel. He held up his Access Key but received only a negative beep in return, the red light flashing mockingly. A message flashed across his HUD, denying access.


    Warning: Entering your Personal Reality from an alternate reality (Star Wars Knights of the Old Republic) requires an Inter-Reality Connecting Door.


    [-50 RP] Inter-Reality Connecting Door: Star Wars Knights of the Old Republic (Personal Reality)


    Reality Points: 450


    Tyson accepted the cost of the Inter-Reality Connecting Door without hesitation. He knew that it was an inevitable purchase. He''d have no way to leave this reality otherwise. Plus its low cost, combined with his desire to help the injured woman overrode any concerns he had about the purchase.


    As the doorway opened into the antechamber, Tyson strode through the newly formed entrance. Looking back, the new Inter-Reality Connecting Door sat adjacent to the door leading to T''Pol''s quarters on the NX-01 Enterprise. Both Inter-Reality Doors were located on the right wall of the antechamber.


    Wasting no time, Tyson hurried back to the Jedi Knight who still sat leaning back against the wall. Though Alysia Rahn held herself with composure befitting her status, Tyson could see hints of strain in the tightness around her eyes and the tension in her posture. As he approached, she made a subtle motion to stand, but Tyson gently shook his head.


    "My apologies, Mistress Jedi," he began respectfully, "But it may be better if I carry you. The door I just opened leads to a medical facility outside of this ship. It will be a safe place for you to recover."


    Alysia regarded him steadily, unruffled by Tyson''s offer. When she responded, her voice held a thread of warmth beneath the calm formality. "You may call me Knight Rahn or Alysia. There are no Mistress Jedi, only Masters." Tyson inclined his head in acknowledgment, accepting the correction. Alysia paused, seeming to sink into the currents of the Force as she contemplated the situation. "I sense a slight deception on your part," she finally murmured, "but only in that you wish to keep your secrets. I was informed of your origins, Space Pirate¡­ Yet, I believe you. The Force assured me. When you said this medical facility would be safe, you spoke the truth." Alysia finally acquiesced, "I accept your offer of assistance in moving me and your aid in my recovery. Thank you."


    With her consent, Tyson gently lifted the slender Jedi into his arms, her weight barely noticeable thanks to his Augment strength. Carrying her with care, he passed through the doorway into his Personal Reality, then Medical Bay. A newly-created biobed sat empty and waiting to receive the injured woman. Tyson laid Alysia down delicately. Vicky followed them, hovering nearby as the biobed came to life with diagnostic panels lighting up around the resting Jedi. Vicky made a few adjustments to the displays, fine-tuning the automated treatment protocols. Soon after, Alysia slipped into a peaceful, healing sleep aided by the advanced technology. Tyson knew that like the Vulcans, he''d saved her life, and the Medical Bay would allow her to recover from her wounds.


    Tyson turned to face Vicky, "Thank you for your help," he said. "But I have another favor to ask of you."


    "Anything, Master," Vicky replied.


    "I need you to remain here," Tyson said. "It is the safest place for you. I don''t know what awaits me when I return to the Endar Spire, or how I''ll manage to escape. And while I appreciate your help with Alysia, I know combat is not your specialty. I also know I''ll have to fight my way off the ship."


    Vicky nodded. "I understand, Master. I appreciate that since we''ve been together, you have taken the time to consider my well-being." She stepped closer, wrapping her arms around him in an unexpected embrace.


    Tyson stood motionless, surprised by the droid''s unexpectedly intimate hug. He slowly raised his arms, wrapping them around the humanoid nursedriod. Through the thin fabric of their clothes, Tyson felt the gentle pressure of Vicky''s breasts and the warmth emanating from her synthetic form.


    The contact stirred the feelings and desires he thought had been buried after his meditation session with T''Pol. The adrenaline from the earlier confrontation with the Dark Jedi had faded, but now a new tension coiled in his gut. Tyson could feel his blood pumping within his veins, his heartbeat rising. This sensation was one that he was quickly becoming familiar with. The Blood Fever was starting to affect him again.


    With an effort of will, Tyson gently extracted himself from the droid''s embrace and took a small step back to regain his composure. Vicky gazed at him longingly, "Be safe, Master," she said, "Ensure you return to me."


    "I will, Vicky," he managed. "Don''t worry." With a last lingering look at Vicky, Tyson turned and strode purposefully back into the Endar Spire.


    Tyson held up his Access Key, and the Inter-Reality Connecting Door collapsed into a card. He pocketed the card without examining it further. Several minutes had passed since Trask and Avner rushed ahead to the bridge, and Tyson needed to catch up. When rounding the corner on his final approach to the bridge, he came face to face with Avner. The amnesiac man had already turned to Tyson and held his vibrosword in an attack posture. Upon recognizing Tyson, he stayed his hand.


    "Where are the Jedi and the droid?" Trask asked urgently.


    "The droid is attending to the Jedi. They''ll regroup with us later," Tyson answered smoothly. Trask did not inquire further. He opened the door to the bridge, and the group was immediately met with blaster fire. The presence of several Sith soldiers made it clear the battle for the Endar Spire was far from over. However, the combined skills of Tyson, Trask, and Avner soon overwhelmed the Sith troops.


    "Bastila''s not on the bridge," Trask declared. "She must have already escaped via the pods. With Bastila gone, there''s no reason for the Sith to keep the Endar Spire intact. We need to reach the escape pods immediately."


    Concerned about abandoning his Perk-awarded spaceship, Tyson voiced his hesitation, "What about the shuttle bay? My ship is docked there." The prospect of leaving his ship behind was difficult to accept. If given the choice, he''d make sure he retrieved the vessel.


    Trask, however, quickly eliminated any notion of using the Tramp Freighter to escape. "There are too many Sith fighters out there. I don''t care how crafty you Space Pirates are. If you take off in a freighter now, you''ll be blasted instantly. The escape pods are small enough to slip by unnoticed. The Sith won''t shoot them if they want Bastila alive."


    Though it pained him, Tyson recognized the truth in Trask''s words. Any attempt to escape while the Endar Spire was still under attack would be tantamount to suicide. The Sith''s focus on capturing Bastila meant the escape pods represented their best and only avenue for survival. With great reluctance, Tyson accepted that abandoning his ship to its fate would be necessary.


    The shuddering of the Endar Spire grew ever more violent as Tyson, Avner, and Trask navigated through the failing ship''s buckling corridors. Each quake underscored the urgency of their quest to reach the escape pods before the entire vessel was torn apart. Rounding a corner into an adjoining passageway, the trio was confronted by an ominous figure blocking their path.


    The man was equipped with dark battle robes, but it was his double-bladed lightsaber whose crimson glow revealed him as a far deadlier threat than the Sith troopers they had previously encountered.


    Trask''s eyes narrowed as he recognized the danger. Stepping forward, he addressed Tyson and Avner with resolve, "Another Dark Jedi. Go on ahead to the escape pods. I will hold him off long enough for you both to escape."


    Yet Tyson held fast, unmoved. The Blood Fever pumped through his veins, singing its siren song, urging him to fight and conquer. He felt the irresistible drive to kill the worthy opponent before him.


    Placing a firm, steadying hand on Trask''s shoulder, Tyson insisted in a tone that brooked no argument, "Get to the escape pod. He''s mine." Though his outward demeanor remained composed, underneath Tyson could feel the Blood Fever thrumming in anticipation, his heart quickening at the prospect of combat.


    Though taken aback, Trask searched Tyson''s eyes and saw the resolve and dangerous edge within them. Recalling how Tyson had fought alongside the Jedi woman against the previous Dark Jedi, Trask decided to place his trust in the man. Wasting no time, he grabbed Avner and began retreating down an alternate passageway toward the escape pods. "You don''t have to tell me twice. Damned noble for a pirate," Trask called back over his shoulder. "Good luck!"


    The Dark Jedi observed Tyson with a smug smile. His confidence in his own abilities was written on his face. Rather than immediately engaging in combat, the Dark Jedi seemed content to simply watch and wait, allowing his arrogance to get the better of him. "Your confidence is misplaced," the Dark Jedi finally spoke.


    His Augment intellect allowed Tyson to see an opportunity in the Sith''s words, even through the haze of the Blood Fever. A villain''s willingness to banter usually leads to their downfall.


    "You''re right." he sighed theatrically, "It''s all false bravado. I know I don''t stand a chance against a Jedi." Tyson paused, resignation entering his voice as he continued, "I just wanted to give them hope." Thinking quickly, he asked with forced politeness, "Would you mind giving me one minute to send a final farewell message to my wife?"


    This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.


    The Dark Jedi let out an amused laugh, "I suppose this is the part where I ask if you have any last words anyway¡­ Very well. One minute. Let it not be said that Darth Bandon isn''t magnanimous."


    Of course, Tyson didn''t actually have a wife. He had simply wanted to buy himself some time to quickly browse through his Perks. The Dark Jedi had unwittingly granted him that time, allowing him to prepare for their battle. Normally a single minute wouldn''t be nearly enough time to thoroughly peruse the extensive list of new perks available to him in this setting. After all, Tyson had spent hours doing so his first night on the Enterprise-D. However, Tyson was different now. He had Augment intellect, further enhanced by the boost garnered from his Force Specialization: Intelligence.


    Tyson retrieved his tablet. His hands roved over the device''s surface, though it was merely an act. In truth, he focused elsewhere, accessing the heads-up display. The Tactical HUD operated at the speed of thought. Information streamed into his mind far quicker than his hands could ever access the tablet devices.


    Without a moment wasted, Tyson dove into his list of perks. The sheer volume would have overwhelmed an ordinary man. But Tyson''s enhanced mind absorbed and processed each perk in an instant. Combining all his mental assets, Tyson rapidly read, analyzed, cross-referenced, and considered every available Perk, processing the information at magnitudes faster than his normal speed. He scanned intently for something that would prove useful not just in the immediate confrontation with the Dark Jedi, but provide lasting value moving forward. With only seconds remaining, Tyson identified a few viable options and hastily weighed them against one another to make a final selection before his borrowed time expired.


    [100 CP] Armored Robes (Item)


    A Jedi robe with cortosis plates woven in. It can protect against blaster fire, and lightsaber attacks.


    [200 CP (Discounted)] Sever Force (Perk)


    This power will allow you to cut individuals off from the Force by creating a wall of light side energy around them. The effects of this power may only be temporary at first, but with practice, you will be able to permanently remove an individual''s connection to the Force. Sith receive a weaker version of this power, and only true Jedi can unlock its full potential.


    [300 CP (Discounted)] Telekinetic Lightsaber Combat (Perk)


    This incredibly rare ability will grant you the knowledge and skill necessary to control up to three lightsabers using only your mind. These blades will be about as deadly as if you were actually wielding them, but it will be difficult to move them faster than your own walking speed and you won¡¯t be able to move them outside of your visual range.


    [400 CP] Dodge! (Perk)


    Some folks like to rely on shields, others on armor. You¡¯re the kind of person who prefers to never get hit in the first place. Your flexibility, dexterity, and body control are some of the best, and you use that to evade attacks, guards, and the occasional angry spouse. Said flexibility and dexterity also increase your attractiveness by how you hold and move yourself. Ever seen a woman move like a cat? Quite similar. You could even use this to become one hell of a tease.


    Tyson contemplated his options carefully, weighing each one in turn. First he considered the Armored Robes. it was the least expensive of the choices. Cortosis was a rare mineral that held a special property. When a lightsaber blade contacted the metal, it would ''short-out'', immediately deactivating. The one wielding the lightsaber would be forced to reactivate their weapon. Though the robes could serve as a surprise that would grant him the upper hand, Tyson dismissed them as unviable for his current situation. Previously when he''d purchased Items, they appeared somewhere in the world or within his Personal Reality. The Spacesuit and Laser Blade appeared within the Warehouse in his Personal Reality, and the Lightsaber had appeared in the footlocker in the room he woke up, but only after reading the system message. If he purchased the robes, there was no guarantee he''d have immediate access to the garments. If they didn''t materialize in the immediate area, they wouldn''t help against the threat he currently faced.


    Next, Tyson turned his thoughts to Sever Force. It was a deceptively powerful ability for its moderate cost. He racked his memory but could not recall any characters who possessed this talent. Save perhaps the Sith Triumvirate, the antagonists of the second Knights of the Old Republic game, the sequel to the situation he know found himself in. Most of the time when characters lost their connection to the Force, it was because they voluntarily cut themselves off from it. Luke Skywalker did this, as did the Jedi Exile, Meetra Surik. The ability to cut off an opponent''s access to the Force, even briefly, could mean certain victory if employed at the right moment. The only drawback to this ability was that it would have no effect against non-Force users. However, Tyson felt confident this perk would prove its worth in this universe.


    Telekinetic Lightsaber Combat was also worth considering. It was a rare and novel fighting style. The technique granted strong offensive and defensive capabilities in melee combat, though it was weak against fast-moving enemies or dynamic combat situations. Tyson hesitated to choose it mostly because it was a skill that he could potentially learn for himself given time and practice. He imagined it was an evolution of Telekinesis, a Force power he already had access to. Comparatively, developing the Sever Force ability, on his own, would be a far more difficult undertaking. He didn''t have any base skills to build from that could disrupt another''s Force connection, and would be starting from scratch.


    Finally, Tyson considered Dodge!. The ability to avoid attacks completely was invaluable when a single blaster bolt or phaser beam spelled certain death. His Lightsaber and Laser Sword Items, combined with his Duelist and Master with your Hands Perks, would allow him to deflect or avoid most shots. Dodge! would render him virtually untouchable when combined with his Snakeskin perk. There was never harm in having additional, layered, defensive options.


    Tyson selected the Sever Force ability. Though the power wouldn''t serve a purpose against non-Force users, he felt secure with the array of weapons and skills already at his disposal against mundane opponents. Jedi, Sith, and other enemies who could wield the Force posed the greatest challenge. Their supernatural abilities granted them an extensive range of attack and defense options, from hurling objects with their minds to foreseeing an opponent''s moves. Countering these powers would be key to his success. By severing a Force user''s connection, even briefly, Tyson could eliminate their main advantage. Without access to the Force, a Jedi''s precognition or a Sith''s telekinesis became useless. A well-timed disruption could prove the difference between victory and defeat.


    Tyson nodded, satisfied with his reasoning. Sever Force was an invaluable benefit, for an acceptable CP cost.


    Character Points: 1250


    Tyson''s allotted minute expired. He removed the plain shirt he had worn over his Spacesuit, lifting the garment over his head and dropping it to the deck plating. The suit''s color shifted from its default silver to transparent, displaying the muscular physique granted by his Best of the Best perk, and his Augment physiology. He''d reduced his clothing to get as large a benefit as possible from the Snakeskin perk, seeking to gain every possible advantage against the Sith.


    Reaching to his belt, he withdrew the Lightsaber and Laser Sword, igniting both with a flourish. The lightsaber''s plasma blade thrummed to life in a vivid green, while the laser sword glowed a cool blue.


    Tyson adopted a defensive stance, weapons raised, he addressed his opponent courteously. "I appreciate your consideration, Darth Bandon. Shall we begin?"


    The display of courtesy and controlled confidence angered the Dark Jedi. Bandon''s eyes narrowed malevolently at the sight of Tyson''s paired lightsabers, their glow reflecting in his yellowing sclera. His voice emerged as a vicious snarl. "A Jedi? You dare mock me? I shall teach you the price of such arrogance!"


    Darth Bandon lunged forward, his double-bladed lightsaber a blur of red as he unleashed a flurry of strikes. Tyson met the assault head-on, his enhanced reflexes allowing him to parry and counter with preternatural speed and precision. Green and blue clashed against red in a dazzling display of swordsmanship. Sparks flew as the blades locked together, the combatants straining against each other.


    Bandon disengaged and leaped back, thrusting out his hand. An invisible force slammed into Tyson, sending him flying across the room. Tyson twisted in midair, landing in a crouch and sliding backward. He reached out with his own telekinetic power, ripping consoles and debris from the walls and hurling them at Bandon.


    The Sith laughed as he effortlessly batted away the projectiles with a flick of his hand and a slight exertion of the Force. "Is that the best you can do?" He raised his hand, fingers curling as he unleashed a Force Choke.


    Tyson felt an invisible vise tighten around his throat. With a grunt of effort, he focused his mind and called on the Force. He pushed back against the dark energy, breaking free from the choke''s grasp.


    Bandon snarled in frustration and charged forward, his lightsaber whirling in a dizzying pattern of slashes and thrusts. Tyson''s Augmented vision allowed him to track the blades and meet Bandon blow for blow, his own dual blades a whirlwind of green and blue.


    They danced across the corridor, leaping over debris and twisting through the air in a deadly ballet.


    As they clashed, Bandon unleashed a wave of Plague, a dark side Force power. The sickly green energy washed over Tyson. Tyson gritted his teeth as pain wracked his body. He shuddered as he fought off the effects of Bandon''s Plague, his Augment physiology and immune system protecting him from the full force of the sickly green waves.


    Bandon''s eyes narrowed in frustration as his opponent remained standing. Drawing deep from the boiling well of his rage, the Sith apprentice summoned a howling vortex of dark side energy. The Force Whirlwind seized Tyson, lifting him off his feet and flinging him violently against the corridor walls. Tyson let out a pained groan as he slammed into the unforgiving metal. But the power didn''t cease, slamming him and spinning him from one side of the hallway to the other, repeatedly. Darth Bandon laughed cruelly as Tyson was finally dropped to the ground.


    Through sheer force of will, and thanks to his Augment constitution, Tyson was able to pull himself upright. Gritting his teeth, he reached for the Light Side of the Force, requesting it regenerate his battered body, activating his Force Healing ability.


    The battle raged on between the two Force users. Bandon''s double-bladed lightsaber whirled and spun in a crimson blur as he pressed his attacks without mercy or restraint. The Dark Jedi struck again and again, putting the full weight of his rage and power behind each blow, meaning to end his opponent''s life.


    Tyson''s paired blades met each of Bandon''s strikes. His defense held firm, turning aside strike after strike even as he sought openings for a counterattack. Tyson''s ripostes came swift as lightning. His lightsaber technique was unrefined, but the Force subtly guided his movements. It granted him a measure of foresight that combined with his superhuman reflexes, enhanced attributes, and reaction time, seamlessly. He deftly parried, emerald and sapphire blurs flickering as he wove a defensive web to turn aside Bandon''s strikes. Tyson''s blades danced and spun, matching the other man blow for blow.


    Though Bandon''s double-bladed lightsaber whirled with vicious speed and power, Tyson had no difficulty holding his ground, keeping pace with the Dark Jedi''s blistering offense. Tyson pressed the attack when he could, seeking openings to counterstrike.


    The duel became a contest between Bandon''s raw fury against Tyson''s focus and control. In lightsaber combat, Tyson''s Perks gave him the edge against the Dark Jedi.


    Bandon snarled in frustration as his devastating blows were turned aside. He drew more deeply on his anger, striking again and again, but Tyson continued to gain ground through finesse. The Sith intensified his assault, seeking to create an opening where none existed. Tyson''s paired blades were there to meet his every attack. The corridor resounded with the clash of their blades and the hum of the plasma searing the air as the Force flowed strongly through both combatants.


    The Sith realized brute force and his lightsaber skills would not carry the day. During this battle, the only time Bandon had the advantage was when he drew upon the Dark Side and bent the Force to his will. He recognized that he would need to employ his mastery over the Force if he hoped to overwhelm the tenacious defense of his enemy.


    In a desperate gambit, Bandon gathered a massive amount of Force energy. The air crackled with power as the very fabric of reality seemed to warp around them within Tyson''s Force sense.


    At this critical moment, Tyson unleashed Force Sever.


    Silver-white energy surrounded Darth Bandon, slicing through his connection to the Force.


    Whatever ability he was preparing to unleash failed to manifest.


    Just as importantly, Bandon was left without the battle foresight and guidance granted by the Force.


    In that instant, Tyson''s blades sliced through the air in a blinding arc, the green Lightsaber and blue Laser Sword flashing as they came down upon the stunned Bandon. The Sith tried to react, but without the Force to guide his blade''s path, he was at a severe disadvantage against a Force-wielding Augment.


    Bandon had no chance to defend himself against Tyson''s final barrage. The blades of plasma and light carved through cloth, armor, flesh, and bone. The Sith''s amber eyes widened in disbelief and agony as Tyson''s weapons cleaved through him. His torso split and separated from his legs. What remained of the man toppled backward, collapsing to the deck in a heap of lifeless meat. His crimson lightsaber tumbled from his hand, clanging against the metal floor, its plasma blade winking out.


    Tyson stood over the corpse of his foe, blades still humming in his hands. The threat of Darth Bandon had been ended.


    The Endar Spire shuddered around him, alarms blaring as the ship began taking critical damage. He deactivated his weapons and grabbed Bandon''s double-bladed lightsaber as he turned toward the escape pods.


    Tyson raced through the Endar Spire''s corridors. He hoped that Trask and Avner had waited for him before abandoning the doomed ship. Skidding around the last corner, he arrived at the escape pod bay, only to be met with bitter disappointment.


    The pods had all been ejected. They had evacuated without him, leaving no path for his escape.


    Tyson racked his mind for alternatives. Trask had warned that trying to fly the Tramp Freighter out of the hangar surrounded by Sith fighters was suicide. But remaining aboard the Endar Spire was hardly better.


    Then realization struck.


    Darth Bandon must have come aboard somehow, just as the Sith troopers had. The Sith did not possess transporters, like in Star Trek. They couldn''t materialize instantly on another vessel. Bandon had to have arrived in a ship docked somewhere on the Endar Spire.


    Tyson spun on his heel and dashed back the way he had come, calling on the Force to enhance his speed. Passing, but ignoring Bandon''s corpse, he continued down the corridor, finding the hangar bay. Inside, beside the Tramp Freighter, sat a sleek Sith Interceptor. The fighter must have been Bandon''s personal craft. Though it pained him to leave his freighter behind, Tyson climbed into the interceptor''s cockpit.


    Though he was unfamiliar with the controls initially, his This is (Not?) Rocket Science Perk granted him the basics of flying the ship. From there, Tyson''s Augment mind allowed him to quickly comprehend the fighter''s systems. In moments he had the interceptor undocked and flying free of the still under-fire Endar Spire.


    As Tyson pulled away, the Sith fighters swarming around the dying capital ship ignored him. To their sensors, it was just another fighter from their fleet. He felt a pang of regret at leaving his freighter behind, but with the Endar Spire coming apart around him, the interceptor had been his only chance of escape. For now, the deception served its purpose. The Sith paid him no mind as Tyson gained distance from the battle with every passing moment.


    Finally having a moment to breathe, Tyson considered his options. The Sith Interceptor was a small craft, only around 7 meters long. It only held a day''s worth of provisions; a pair of small meals and some water. A quick survey of the ship''s systems revealed it had no hyperdrive, so he wouldn''t be able to travel to any other solar systems quickly.


    He was left with two options. Return to a Sith cruiser or land planetside.


    Tyson didn''t like his odds posing as a Sith. He hadn''t taken any Sith armor on the Endar Spire, and there wasn''t a spare set within the cockpit. Landing on the nearby world, Taris, one of the galaxy''s few city-planets, was his best bet. As Tyson angled the fighter to descend to the ecumenopolis, he saw the vivid explosion of the Endar Spire. Descending into the atmosphere, his HUD displayed messages.


    Episode: Star Wars Knights of the Old Republic - Endar Spire Complete!


    +100 RP


    Reality Points: 550


    "Well, well, well! The plucky young hero defeated a Dark Jedi and sated his Blood Fever in one fell swoop! I must say, that battle was mildly entertaining, I suppose. For a human, at least. Taking Darth Bandon off the board so early deserves a bonus. Maybe some SP since you didn''t have a real chance at saving your Tramp Freighter."


    Tyson''s brow furrowed in confusion. He mumbled, "SP? He quickly recalled that the Voyager Problem Drawback offered SP instead of CP. As Tyson worked through his memories, the message continued scrolling.


    "SP! Ship Points! Don''t tell me that great Augment brain of yours can''t comprehend such a basic concept. I suppose even an enhanced monkey brain is still a monkey brain¡­ Ship Points are used to improve and customize your ships and vessels. This needs to be done at a spaceport, starbase, or similar facility of course. You can certainly attempt to upgrade things yourself, but using points gets the job done perfectly and instantly."


    +100 SP


    Ship Points: 1400


    But the omnipotent being wasn''t done yet.


    "I do hope you plan to entertain me some more in this reality. That little skirmish was a decent enough aperitif, but I shall require something far more substantial for the main course."


    Settling back in the pilot''s seat, Tyson muttered, "You''re just salty that I settled my Blood Fever in a duel to the death instead of with T''Pol."


    Q''s disembodied laughter filled the cockpit as the Sith Interceptor began its descent toward the surface of Taris.


    ¡ª Star Jumper ¡ª


    Tyson


    Origins: Human, Humanoid, Drop-In, Space Pirate, Bad Guy


    Race: Augment Human-Betazoid (Hybrid)


    Character Points: 1250


    Reality Points: 550


    Ship Points: 1400


    Credits: 0


    Status Effects: (none)


    Drawbacks:


    Gauntlet (Locked)


    Ensign Marty Stu


    A Simple ReQuest


    Hybrid (Betazoid)


    Amok Time/Blood Fever


    Outlawed


    The Voyager Problem


    Perks:


    Cosmic Awareness


    Out of Nowhere


    Going Native


    Live and Let Live


    This is (Not?) Rocket Science


    Kinda Bland


    Determinator


    Painted On


    Snakeskin


    Adaptable


    Duelist


    Master with your Hands


    Best of the Best


    Everything Is A Weapon


    Augment


    Force Specialization: Intelligence


    Tactical Info


    Sever Force


    Items:


    Laser Blade


    Spacesuit


    Agony Booth


    Cloaking Minefield


    V-KO IV Nursedroid


    Lightsaber


    Personal Reality:


    Access Key


    Security System


    Inter-Reality Connecting Door (Star Trek Enterprise)


    Medical Bay


    Inter-Reality Connecting Door (Star Wars Knights of the Old Republic)


    Spaceships:


    Tramp Freighter (Destroyed - Respawn on 02/28/2365)

 Season 1: Episode 4.1 - Personal Reality

    Season 1: Episode 4.1 - Personal Reality


    Stardate: 4 1 1 6 0. 7


    Earth Standard Date: February 28, 2364


    Galactic Date: 19th Day of the Second Month, 3956 BBY


    Location: Upper City, Taris, Star Wars Knights of the Old Republic Continuity.


    Tyson brought the stolen Sith Interceptor into dock at the Taris Upper City Spaceport. As it glided into an open berth, the sleek lines of the Sith ship stood out starkly from the more utilitarian Republic vessels surrounding it. The spaceport workers who guided him in had taken one look at the Interceptor''s ominous silhouette and hastily waved Tyson through without demanding the usual docking fees.


    Fear of the Sith hung heavy over Taris. Tyson could see it in the guarded looks the locals gave him as he debarked, and could feel it radiating from them like heat from a stovetop. The Tarisians kept their heads down and their mouths shut, not wanting to draw the attention of Tyson or others like him.


    After securing the ship, Tyson considered his options. This spaceport, as Q suggested, was a facility where he could import and upgrade starships. Additionally, he could purchase ships outright if he wanted.


    [Free] Import (Spaceships)


    Instead of choosing a Ship Type and Size for purchase, import one space-worthy vessel you already own. Its default Section Size and Rating are that of a ship of the corresponding size. At your choice, ship parts you buy can either replace pre-existing parts of the original ship or exist in addition to them.


    Sith Interceptor (Spaceships)


    A small nimble starfighter used as the standard attack craft in the Sith fleet. It seats a single pilot, is armed with twin laser cannons as well as proton torpedoes, and is powered by a twin ion drive.


    Tyson surveyed the small selection of free options available for outfitting any ship. His gaze lingered on the Bridge addition. This particular upgrade would transform the cockpit into an expanded bridge, allowing for additional officers to assist with operating the vessel. Though the Sith Interceptor was designed as a single-pilot fighter craft, Tyson recognized the value in being able to accommodate extra personnel.


    After careful consideration, he decided to install the expanded bridge on his Sith Interceptor. The Bridge now offered standing room for up to twelve people, though it would be cramped. While not intended as living space, in a crisis the additional capacity could prove useful. The expanded bridge would not compromise the Interceptor''s capabilities; it was still a fast, agile ship ideal for rapid strikes.


    [Free] Bridge (Starship Upgrade)


    A central control room where all the important decisions are made. You may choose the bridge''s location on the ship. Comes with a big screen to display the tactical data or a direct view into space.


    Now inside the new bridge of the Sith Interceptor, Tyson produced the card that represented his Inter-Reality Connecting Door, he held it aloft, and a doorframe materialized upon the wall, leading to his Personal Reality.


    Tyson stood in the empty Warehouse, grappling with the challenges before him. The 147 Vulcans recovering in the Medical Bay weighed heavily on his thoughts. He had brought them here to save them from the damage caused by the Trellium-D exposure, but now he found himself facing a new set of obstacles. The bay''s advanced technology promised to heal the Vulcans'' neurological damage within a week. But their recovery would be just the beginning.


    Tyson''s jaw tightened as he contemplated the predicament before him. Offloading the responsibility of the 147 Vulcans onto Captain Archer and the crew of the NX-01 Enterprise would be an unwise decision. From what he recalled, the ship only accommodated eighty or so crewmembers. Adding nearly double that number in Vulcans would strain the Enterprise''s resources to the breaking point. They didn''t have the luxury of replicators like the Enterprise-D. Moreover, the relationship between humans and Vulcans during that era remained strained at best. Archer''s crew was already burdened with the dire mission of locating the Xindi, a hostile race that had attacked Earth, killing millions. They could ill afford the distraction of integrating the Vulcans.


    The responsibility of the Vulcans fell squarely on Tyson''s shoulders. He had saved them from the Trellium-D asteroid field, something that shouldn''t have happened according to his memories of the canon timeline, and now he needed to follow through and provide for their needs; shelter, sustenance, and basic amenities. The empty Warehouse offered space but little in the way of comfort.


    "I brought them here," he murmured, his voice, though low, carried through the cavernous chamber. "They''re my responsibility."


    Tyson accessed the interface, searching for solutions. He saw numerous options, but each came with a cost in Reality Points. He cursed under his breath, realizing that his current supply of RP was inadequate to solve all his issues. The Vulcans were only his first problem. The doors that connected his Personal Reality to the other realms he had visited were his second. The Inter-Reality Connecting Doors to the NX-Enterprise, and the Knights of the Old Republic universes. Currently, the doors couldn''t even be locked. Unacceptable. He needed to find a way to secure these doors. To protect not only the Vulcans that would likely be inhabiting his Reality but also ensure the integrity of his Reality and the ones it connected.


    The interface offered a range of options. Tyson weighed the costs and benefits of each. He knew that he couldn''t afford to compromise on safety, but he also couldn''t spend all of his Reality Points on security measures alone. With this in mind, he selected several Personal Reality upgrades.


    Reality Points: 550


    [50 RP] Key Link (Personal Reality)


    With this, you can now close the door while you are in the Personal Reality and use your key in a special podium in the entryway to link your Personal Reality Door to any door in your current Host Reality that you¡¯ve previously used your Access Key on.


    [150 RP] High-Security Inter-Reality Connecting Doors Upgrade (Personal Reality)


    Exactly like Inter-Reality Connecting Doors, except they can be locked and Force Field protected.


    [100 RP] Housing Complex (Personal Reality)


    With this option, you gain enough housing for every sapient you have in your retinue. Each adult or juvenile among those beings you allow to live permanently (or semi-permanently) in your Personal Reality gets their own personal bedroom. Personal rooms can be merged if all the occupants so desire. Each personal room defaults to 5 meters by 4 meters by 3 meters. The standard unit of this Complex is the ¡°Apartment¡±. By default, each ¡°Apartment¡± contains four ¡°bedrooms¡± when created, a kitchen & dining room, two full bathrooms with combination shower/bathtubs, two general-purpose shared rooms (offices, living rooms, game rooms), a few small closets, and a pantry. This housing is not luxurious by any means, but the individual rooms tailor themselves to the general likes of their owner and come with basic but not quality furniture. Non-bedrooms are on the small side but large enough to function. Floors are basic linoleum and walls are basic low-grade paint. Appliances and fixtures are pretty bare bones and the walls are little more than plywood and wood frame. The bedrooms don¡¯t have closets.


    [50 RP] Basic Nutrition (Personal Reality)


    This option provides a basic, if minimalist, food delivery for you and all your followers. This delivery comes once a week and is the kind of thing you¡¯d buy on a very strict budget; Ramen, Peanut Butter, Generic Cereal, Dry Beans, Eggs, Tofu, Fresh Common Fruits & Veggies, Canned Fruits & Veggies, Dry Pasta, Salt, Pepper, Milk, Bottled Water, Rice, Flour, Butter, Barley, etc. Essentially 50 dollars purchasing power a week per person.


    Tyson considered his options carefully, weighing the costs against the benefits of each upgrade for his Personal Reality. Closing the door that connected his realm to the universe he was connected to was a reasonable expense at 50 RP, providing a basic level of security and privacy. The thought of leaving that door open to whatever might wander in from other universes was unacceptable. No, lockable doors were a necessity, even if they drained a significant portion of his resources. Upgrading the two Inter-Reality Connecting Doors to be High-Security would run 300 RP, more than half of his current total, but it was a needed expense.


    Next, Tyson focused on a living space for the Vulcans. The Housing Complex was bare-bones living quarters devoid of any semblance of comfort. But they were Private bedrooms that would scale in number to accommodate any Vulcans or guests he might invite into his Reality, for the reasonable cost of 100 RP. A barracks-style arrangement was cheaper at 50 RP but was limited by the size of his Personal Reality. The barracks could host all the Vulcans, but the extra cost for private rooms seemed a small price to pay for a modicum of personal space and endlessly increasing rooms.


    Sustenance was another concern. The Basic Nutrition plan, while minimalist, would at least provide the essentials. 50 RP was reasonable to secure these provisions. While it might not be the most appetizing, like the Housing Complex, it scaled regardless of the number of people within his Personal Reality.


    Utilities, however, posed a greater challenge. Water and electricity would each require 100 RP, a luxury he couldn''t afford at the moment. The bottled water included in the nutrition plan would suffice for now, but functioning facilities would have to wait until he acquired more Reality Points. When he did, Water would be prioritized, since it would add bathrooms with toilets and showers to the Housing Complex.


    If he purchased all the desired improvements, a mere 50 RP would remain in reserve. Not enough to make a difference in an emergency. Yet, none of the upgrades he selected would be wasted on short-term solutions. They were investments, purchases that would retain their value and could be upgraded in the future. Tyson accepted the costs.


    Reality Points: 50


    Tyson accessed the control panel, closing the connecting door between the Sith Interceptor and his Personal Reality. The door sealed, cutting him from the outside world.


    He crossed to the Medical Bay. Inside, he found Vicky keeping watch over Alysia as the Jedi Knight sat on one of the diagnostic beds. Tyson approached and greeted them warmly. "Knight Rahn, it''s good to see you up and about."


    Alysia sat up gingerly. "Thank you for allowing me to make use of your medical facilities. Although I was gravely injured, I haven''t felt this healthy in quite some time."


    Tyson accepted her thanks with a nod. He turned to face the women and invited them to accompany him on a tour. "Come on, I¡¯ll show you around." and they followed in his wake as he led the way back to the antechamber.


    The small anteroom opened up into the cavernous warehouse. He led the way into the expansive and empty warehouse. With a sweeping gesture, Tyson indicated the vast room, bare shelves stretching out into the distance. "As you can see, the storage area is completely empty." His tone held a trace of apology for the barren surroundings.


    Approaching a nondescript door nestled unobtrusively into the wall of the antechamber, Tyson pulled it open and beckoned for Vicky and Alysia to follow him through. The transition from the spartan warehouse to the scene beyond was startling in its contrast. They found themselves standing in a carpeted hallway lined with numbered doors, reminiscent of a mid-range hotel corridor. The door to the antechamber clicked shut behind them, sealing off the view back into the warehouse.


    "This is the Housing Complex," Tyson explained, his voice carrying slightly in the muffled quiet of the hallway. "They''re suites, but each of us has a private bedroom here."


    "Is this your ship or homeworld?" Alysia asked curiously.


    Tyson''s response was cryptic, "You could say that it''s my world," he murmured, then redirected the conversation with a question of his own. "Does your galaxy have a name?"


    "Skyriver," Alysia replied softly, confused that he lacked such basic knowledge.


    The name struck Tyson as almost poetic in its beauty. "Skyriver," he repeated appreciatively, "That is a lovely name."


    Tyson led the way into the housing complex''s suite. He opened the cabinets, hoping to find something to offer his guests.


    "I''m afraid there''s no running water," Tyson said regretfully, his eyes scanning the kitchen. "But we have some basic food and bottled water stocked up."


    Vicky stepped forward, her voice filled with eagerness. "Allow me to assist, Master. ."


    Tyson smiled at Vicky. "That would be great, Vicky. Thank you."


    Vicky rummaged through the cabinets, gathering an array of canned goods, vegetables, dried pasta, and bottled water. Tyson motioned for Alysia to take a seat at the small kitchen table while the droid worked. He quickly realized that while Vicky''s medical knowledge was extensive, her culinary skills left much to be desired. Tyson took the lead, opening cans and measuring out portions of the dried pasta. Vicky filled a pot with bottled water and set it on the stove, the blue flame flickering to life beneath it. As the pasta began to boil, Tyson turned his attention to the vegetables. He drained the liquids from the cans, chopping and slicing the ingredients with deft strokes of his knife. The vegetables sizzled as they hit the hot pan, filling the air with an enticing aroma. Tyson stirred the mixture with a wooden spoon, combining the flavors.


    The simple meal''s scent wafted through the kitchen, and Alysia''s stomach growled in anticipation. After the disaster of the Endar Spire, the prospect of a hot dinner was a welcome relief. When the food was ready, Tyson divided the pasta and vegetable mixture onto three plates, placing them on the table before himself, Vicky, and Alysia.


    Alysia looked down at the steaming plate before her, a grateful smile on her face. "This looks great, Tyson. Thank you."


    Tyson noticed Vicky''s plate sat untouched, the food cooling as they ate. Concern flickered across his face and he asked gently, "Vicky, are you not hungry?"


    The droid shook her head, reassuring, "I do not require food, Master. My power cells are still fully charged from my time on the Endar Spire. I can maintain operations for several more days yet."


    Tyson furrowed his brow, thinking aloud as he twirled pasta around his fork. "But what if your power runs out? There are no electrical outlets here to recharge from."


    "If necessary, I can consume food as fuel, like a primitive combustion engine. It is inefficient but workable," Vicky responded pragmatically. "I am also capable of breaking down biomass to convert it into the drugs and chemicals required for medical treatment." She stated this matter-of-factly, without a hint of self-consciousness. "These medicines can then be dispersed in solid form from my side compartment, or in liquid form from my mouth, or nipples."


    The last part of her explanation caught Tyson completely off guard. He inhaled sharply, nearly choking on the water he was sipping. Sputtering, he set down his bottle as incredulous laughter bubbled up. "What?" he exclaimed.


    Unfazed by his reaction, Vicky simply stated, "I''m a nurse droid," as if that fact alone justified her surprising capabilities.


    As they finished eating, Alysia redirected the conversation with a line of soft inquiry, wanting to understand the depth of Tyson''s experience. "You said that you had never felt the Force before today. Are you at all familiar with the teachings of the Jedi or the Sith?"


    Tyson paused, feeling as though he stood at a crossroads. As a self-professed Star Wars nerd, he possessed knowledge of the lore surrounding the galaxy far, far away. Yet he was aware there may be differences between the fictional narratives and the tangible reality of the Old Republic that Alysia inhabited. Opting for nuanced honesty, he replied, "Somewhat." The answer acknowledged his knowledge while recognizing its potential inaccuracy in a world where the Force was not just part of a story.


    Alysia''s expression grew thoughtful as she chose her next words. "The Force," she began slowly, "is an energy field that connects and flows through all living things, binding the galaxy together." She paused to gather her thoughts before continuing her explanation. "The Force guides us, lending wisdom and insight if we open ourselves to it. The Jedi believe in living in harmony with the Force, following its currents." Alysia''s gaze drifted away briefly as she reflected on her own experiences. "Jedi are trained from childhood to sense the Force and interact with it. Through years of meditation and reflection, we learn to listen to its subtle promptings and feel its ebbs and flows. This deep connection is the source of our abilities."


    Turning her focus back to Tyson, Alysia continued, "But the Force is more than just the abilities it grants us. It is about understanding and responsibility. The Jedi Code teaches us not to exploit the Force for personal gain, but to serve and maintain balance in the galaxy. The Force guides our actions, shapes our decisions, and influences how we interact with the world around us. To a Jedi, it is a way of life."


    Alysia''s piercing gaze locked onto Tyson''s. She wanted her next words to sink in, to be truly understood. "What I''m about to say. I tell you, not to shame you, but to provide context for your actions on the Endar Spire. In that corridor, you saved my life, and for that, you have my eternal gratitude. But in that moment, I felt you channel your emotions into the Force; your concern, and your fear of my demise. You used those feelings to manipulate the Force, bending it to your will. The Force acquiesced, knocking me away from danger, ensuring I survived." She took a deep, steadying breath, seemingly struggling with how to broach this delicate subject. Her furrowed brow and taut posture revealed the complexity of the situation weighing on her. "Wielding the Force in such a manner goes against the Jedi way. Harnessing one''s emotions, compelling the Force to do one''s bidding... this is the path of the Sith." Her tone softened as she continued, intending not to accuse but to enlighten, "I do not fault you for how you utilized the Force at that moment, nor for saving me. Many young Jedi, and those untrained in the ways of the Force, will tap into the Force in times of dire need, unintentionally, as you did."


    Alysia allowed Tyson a moment to absorb her words before proceeding, knowing he would need time to process the nuance of what she was trying to convey. "Jedi Padawan typically begin their training as younglings. Strong attachments can lead to powerful emotions that cloud judgment and spur actions. The Jedi preach detachment. To an outsider, it may seem cold, but the intention is not to suppress emotions but to understand them and exert control over them. To prevent them from dictating our actions."


    Her explanation provided not just insight into using or rather utilizing the Force, but a glimpse into the Jedi philosophy.


    "The Force flows through and binds all living things together," Alysia continued. "How we choose to connect with it, to harness it, speaks volumes about the path we walk and the content of our character. Your actions were driven by an innate desire to protect. That hints at a formidable potential for good within you. But you must be mindful of your emotions."


    The remnants of their modest meal lay scattered across the table as the group rose from their seats. They filed into the suite''s sparse living area, settling onto the plain couches situated around a small fireplace that provided the room''s sole entertainment. Tyson sank into the lumpy cushions, a question still lingering in his thoughts. Alysia''s words had illuminated glimmers of the Jedi''s philosophy, yet there was much that still confused him.


    The author''s tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.


    When Alysia had been in danger, fear, hope, and determination had granted Tyson the strength to push her out of the way in time to save her. He recalled the power that surged through his veins in that desperate moment. It was his refusal to see harm befall her, that had channeled that power. How then could the Jedi condemn emotion when it could wield such might for good?


    Tyson turned towards Alysia, his brow furrowed. "You said my actions were driven by a desire to protect, that it hinted at the potential for good within me. But the Jedi warn against emotion and attachments. If my emotions gave me the strength to save you, why would the Jedi suppress them?"


    Alysia considered the question, taking a thoughtful sip from her water bottle as she gathered her response. "Emotions are powerful forces," she finally said, "As you saw, they can lend us remarkable strength in times of need. But they can also be unpredictable, leading us astray into actions we may come to regret."


    She swirled the contents of her bottle idly, "Emotions like fear, anger, and hatred are paths to the dark side of the Force. They can override reason and provoke harmful deeds, bringing injury to others as well as ourselves. The Jedi Code teaches balance, to act with wisdom and compassion rather than being driven by immediate passions." Alysia''s eyes found Tyson''s again through the dancing firelight. "The strength you found in emotion to save me was born of the desire to protect, a fundamentally good impulse. But the Force demands discipline. Without it, even well-intended acts can lead to unforeseen and undesirable consequences. That is why Jedi are trained to be mindful of their emotions, to feel them yet not let them dictate action."


    Shadows flickered across Alysia''s features as she leaned back, the firelight playing over her pensive face. "At its core, it is about finding balance. Emotions are not inherently wrong. They are part of who we are. But to use the Force responsibly, for the greater good, we must understand those emotions and master them, rather than allow them to master us."


    Tyson tilted his head, curiosity plain on his face. "You mentioned the Jedi Code a few times. What exactly is that?" Tyson knew of the Jedi Code, but he failed to recall their exact wording.


    Alysia explained, "The Jedi Code is a set of principles that guides our actions, our decisions, and how we live with the Force." She recited the code, each line delivered with a reverence that underscored its deep importance to her.


    "There is no emotion, there is peace.


    There is no ignorance, there is knowledge.


    There is no passion, there is serenity.


    There is no chaos, there is harmony.


    There is no death, there is the Force."


    She paused after reciting the code, allowing its weighty words to settle between them. To Alysia, the Jedi Code was far more than a mantra; it was the bedrock upon which she had built her life. After a thoughtful moment, she continued explaining, "The Code teaches balance, both within ourselves and throughout the galaxy. As Jedi, we feel emotion like anyone else, but we must not let it seize control of our actions. Instead, we cultivate inner peace."


    Delving deeper, Alysia continued to explain each line of the code. "By rejecting ignorance and pursuing knowledge, we make informed choices. Passion can motivate us to act, but unchecked it leads to recklessness and worse. So we strive for serenity in all endeavors. Chaos represents the disorder in the galaxy and within ourselves that we aim to soothe, bringing harmony wherever possible. And the final line, states death is part of the Force. It reminds us not to fear our end, for it is simply a transition, a shifting of energy within the living Force that surrounds and binds us."


    Tyson''s brow furrowed as he mulled over Alysia''s explanation of the Force. "So you''re telling me the Force intended for you to die in that corridor?" He shook his head, the memory of blaster fire and chaos replaying in his mind. "And through my emotions, I bent the will of the Force itself, changing its intention and saving your life?" A bitter chuckle escaped his lips. "I find it hard to swallow that I was just supposed to let you die when I had a chance to prevent it."


    Alysia''s voice remained calm and even, though he detected a glimmer of something more profound lurking beneath the surface. "The Force flows through all things, guiding and shaping the course of events, yet leaving room for free will to alter its path." She placed a hand on his arm, giving it a gentle squeeze. "You acted on instinct, and let the powerful emotions drive your actions. In this case, the outcome was good. You saved my life." Alysia''s gaze held his, her eyes steady and intense. "But there could be another instance where you could just as easily harm or kill another. If your allies or your droid had been closer, they could''ve been killed by the Force Wave you expelled. In your focus on saving me, you could''ve harmed them."


    Tyson''s jaw clenched as he considered her words. He had reacted without thought, his only concern the safety of the woman standing before him. But Alysia''s warning rang true. His actions could have easily harmed the others had they been in range. He changed the subject, asking about another topic that had always bothered him, "Is it true that Jedi avoid attachments? What about relationships? Love? Family?"


    Alysia''s expression softened, her features taking on a hint of wistfulness as she considered his question. Memories flickered in her gaze, speaking to the personal costs and complexities of the principles she lived by.


    "Yes, it''s true," she said after a thoughtful moment, her voice gentle yet resolute. "Jedi are taught from a young age to avoid forming attachments. The reasoning is that attachments can lead to fear. Fear of loss, fear for the wellbeing of those we are attached to. And fear is a path that can lead us from the light and into the darkness."


    She shifted slightly where she sat cross-legged on the couch. "Relationships, romantic love, family bonds. These are among the strongest sources of attachment. They can bring great joy, but they can also cultivate darker emotions like possessiveness, jealousy, and selfishness. Such feelings can cloud our judgment, compromise our impartiality, and in the worst cases, drive us to harm others or ourselves in a desperate attempt to protect or avenge those we love."


    Alysia paused, her sage green gaze meeting Tyson''s with a glimmer of empathy. "But," she continued contemplatively, "this aspect of the Jedi Code is one of the most debated and difficult to truly adhere to. Some argue that it is our connections with others that give us purpose worth fighting for. Indeed, many promising students have fallen from the Jedi path because they could not sever those profound attachments."


    Her voice took on a distant, reflective note, memories of fallen Jedi flashing through her mind. "There have been rare instances where Jedi have formed relationships, even families, but these are the exception, and often fraught with complications. Finding a balance between such deep connections and the often accompanying emotions is challenging."


    Alysia''s expression was open and contemplative, "Love itself is not expressly forbidden. It is the unhealthy attachment and potential for loss that the Code cautions against. We are encouraged to cultivate compassion, to love all beings in a universal sense, and to serve the Force without personal bias. It is a lofty ideal, one many of us struggle to live up to. But it is the path we have chosen."


    Tyson''s brow furrowed as he contemplated Alysia''s thoughtful words, turning them over in his mind and examining the nuances between love and attachment from all angles. After several long moments of pensive introspection, a question formed fully in his mind.


    "Could you teach me how to release my emotions into the Force?" he asked, "If nothing else, being able to let go of fear when it arises could prove invaluable in a crisis."


    Alysia''s emerald eyes narrowed almost imperceptibly as she regarded Tyson''s request, weighing it carefully. To guide another in utilizing the Force was not a responsibility to be taken lightly. However, she recognized the potential value of instructing him in the basic technique of releasing emotions rather than being controlled by them. It was one of the core tenets of the Jedi way, after all. Teaching him would bring Tyson one step further from the tempting embrace of the dark side. After a weighty pause, she replied, "Yes, I can instruct you in some rudimentary techniques for releasing emotions into the Force."


    The Jedi rose from where she had been sitting cross-legged on the sofa and moved to position herself on the floor. She settled smoothly into a meditative pose, gestured for Tyson to sit directly in front of her, and then rested her hands lightly on her knees.


    "Let us start simply," she began patiently. "Close your eyes and take a long, deep, calming breath. Try to clear your mind of distractions. Focus only on the slow inhalation and exhalation of breath." Alysia observed Tyson closely to ensure he followed her guidance before continuing in a soothing tone. "Now, recall a moment when you experienced strong fear. Do not recoil from the memory. Instead, allow yourself to revisit the emotion objectively while maintaining the perspective of a detached witness. What physical manifestations does the fear have? Where in your body do you sense it?" She left a contemplative pause, providing Tyson time to examine his inner state.


    "Once you have a clear perception of the fear, envision it as a shape or color in your mind''s eye. Then, picture yourself releasing that shape or color away from you and into the Force. Visualize it slowly dissipating, becoming less vivid and defined until it fades completely."


    Tyson tried to follow Alysia''s guidance, but the concept of envisioning emotions as shapes proved difficult. He struggled to connect with the idea, the imagery eluding him despite his best efforts to imagine his fears dissolving into nothingness.


    But then Tyson drew upon memories from his previous life. He realized he could use symbolism he was already familiar with to make Alysia''s abstract lesson more concrete.


    In his mind''s eye, Tyson decided to envision willpower as the vibrant, defiant color green, conjuring images of a hero wielding a ring of power, renowned for his tenacity in the face of challenge. This emerald hue embodied the fortifying strength he would need to prevail. In contrast, he assigned the sickly, acidic color yellow to symbolize his fears; the swirling doubts and anxieties.


    He had transformed the abstract into a tangible vision. He used his meta-knowledge to envision the superhero''s struggles to find clarity in Alysia''s lesson.


    With these symbolic colors now clear in his mind''s eye, Tyson focused intently on the moments that had brought his fear to the forefront...


    The troubling thoughts of the Jedi losing her fateful duel to the Dark Jedi...


    The searing heat and shrapnel of the explosion on the Endar Spire engulfed her in a blinding flash of light and sound...


    The nagging anxiety over the potential squandering of this extraordinary second chance at life. Failing to live up to the potential of his new existence¡­


    In his mind''s eye, he saw the yellow fears emerge, swirling around him. Then, tapping into the fortifying green of his willpower, he imagined it enveloping and combating the yellow, slowly gaining dominance in a battle of light and colors that played out in his consciousness. With each measured breath, Tyson pushed back against the swirling yellow doubts, letting the defiant emerald green of his resolve dilute his fears until they faded into insignificance, finally released to dissipate into the Force.


    Tyson sank into the meditation, allowing his mind to open to the living Force. Though not a traditional Jedi technique, the creative visualization resonated with his memories, tapping into a wellspring of imagery that flowed freely through his consciousness.


    Finally, Tyson opened his eyes, sensing the transformation within. The turmoil of emotion that had roiled beneath the surface now flowed calm, like a river emerging from rapids into a smooth, broad delta. He felt lighter, his thoughts clear and uncluttered. The exercise had not completely vanquished his fears but had loosened their grip. For the first time, he glimpsed the balance and tranquility that could be attained through practice, dedication, and the Jedi way.


    "Thank you, Alysia," he said, "I know it will prove valuable going forward."


    Alysia''s features softened into an approving smile. Through the Force, she could sense the change in Tyson, the newfound harmony and control. The anger and self-doubt that simmered under the surface, now flowed in proper balance, aligned at last with the light side of the Force.


    "You''ve taken an important step forward today," she replied, pride and encouragement mingling in her voice. "I can sense the progress you''ve made. Hold onto this feeling, and let it guide you."


    Tyson stood, fatigue etched in the lines of his face. "I''ve had enough excitement for one day," he said, chuckling wearily as he stretched his tired limbs. "I think I''ll head into my room and get some sleep."


    Alysia nodded in understanding, her blue eyes soft with sympathy. "I believe I''ll stay here a while longer before retiring myself," she replied.


    Vicky had observed their exchange in pensive silence, her eyes flickering with simulated thought. Now the android nurse spoke up, her tone curiously inviting. "I''ll remain on standby here tonight unless you require my services, Master Tyson," she said, blinking her long lashes coyly. Tyson paused mid-step, eyebrows shooting up in surprise as he parsed Vicky''s implication.


    "I am equipped for comprehensive care," Vicky continued, either oblivious or indifferent to Tyson''s reaction. "My programming encompasses a wide range of stress relief protocols, should you find them necessary, or helpful." Vicky went on, detailing her capabilities as Tyson fidgeted. "I can attend to any needs that may arise during the night. If you have difficulty sleeping or wish to discuss the day''s events, I stand ready to assist you in any way required. A massage, or some cuddling, perhaps?" She blinked again, somehow conveying allure despite her semi-mechanical nature. "I am programmed to ensure your complete well-being and satisfaction through any means you desire."


    Tyson hesitated, completely taken aback by this new dimension of Vicky''s programming. He was still growing accustomed to her constant presence. This provocative offer was unexpected and frankly awkward. But mindful of her indispensable help in treating Alysia, he responded politely.


    "No thank you, Vicky," he managed after a pause, "I''ll be alright on my own tonight. But I appreciate you looking out for me. Good night."


    Tyson made for his private quarters before Vicky could respond. The door slid open at his approach, revealing a spartan room equipped with everything needed for a peaceful night''s rest. Stepping inside, Tyson let the door whisper close behind him, finally alone with his thoughts. After this long, strange day, he was looking forward to unwinding.


    Before preparing for bed, Tyson pulled up the Perks and Items list on his HUD, browsing through the options as he tried to calm his mind. Tyson''s eyes lingered on an item.


    [200 CP] Gray Goo Suit (Item)


    This pile of nanomachines is programmed to bond with a user, envelope their body, and form either clothing or armor around them. The suit can respond to verbal commands, and potentially be upgraded to respond to commands sent other ways. Most importantly, it is programmed to constantly improve its ability to protect and benefit the user. As such, it will develop and learn from situations encountered by the wearer. It can study and imitate materials and technology, do the same to biology, and if shown examples of how something can be done, can also learn and imitate phenomena. However, if an ability or capability requires an external energy source, then the suit can only imitate what it has interacted with, and not the energy source it hasn¡¯t.


    Though the thought of donning a suit composed entirely of nanobots made him uneasy, despite knowing that Items came with a guarantee of safety and functionality. Still, his mind turned to cautionary science fiction narratives from his old life, which often emphasized nanotechnology''s immense potential for destruction.


    Despite his reservations, Tyson reminded himself that this suit was not designed to harm, spread uncontrollably, or override his will, like the Borg. Rather, it was created to provide protection and abilities far beyond any conventional armor.


    The suit''s description hinted at significant levels of adaptability and protection. Yet Tyson hesitated, considering the fictional Grey Goo Suits that came to mind. The first that he could think of was the Venom symbiote which offered incredible defensive and offensive capabilities, but at the cost of a conflicting personality and a ravenous hunger...


    Perhaps that was not the best example to dwell on.


    Instead, Tyson turned his thoughts to the nanotech suits of Black Panther and Iron Man. He hoped this suit would align more with the latter than the former. The thought of a semi-sentient suit trying to exert control over him was concerning, but Tyson reminded himself that the Item was not a Drawback, which meant it wouldn''t bring harm to or have downsides for its user.


    Tyson considered the idea of a suit of armor that could adapt to his needs. A suit that could mimic any material or texture while providing protection would be invaluable. He would never need to worry about being caught unarmored or unprepared again.


    His Augment Perk lent him some resistance to phasers and his Snakeskin Perk allowed him to dodge, but Tyson knew from long experience gaming that layering defenses made them exponentially more effective. Avoiding damage altogether was ideal, but the moment he failed to dodge and something got through, another layer of protection could mean the difference between life and death. The suit would be that extra buffer between him and harm. And it would never become obsolete like ordinary armor, updating itself over time as it was exposed to better materials and technology.


    With a nod, Tyson made his purchase. An adaptable, ever-changing suit of armor was too valuable an asset to pass up. It would provide protection when he needed it most, and in the end, that was worth the price.


    Character Points: 1050


    Tyson was transfixed by the shimmering pool of liquid metal that materialized on the end table. Though ''materialized'' was perhaps not the right word. It seemed to well up from an invisible crack in the wood, defying physics as it spread across the tabletop.


    Despite his misgivings, curiosity drew Tyson''s hand toward the morphing silver mass. His fingertips barely grazed the surface before the nanobots came alive, clinging to his skin with a curious, almost sentient touch. He watched with mingled fascination and trepidation as the tiny bots swarmed up his fingers and across the back of his hand, a tide of silver sweeping swiftly up his wrist and arm.


    The sensation was unlike anything he had ever felt. Instead of the cold, hard touch of metal he expected, the nanobots felt almost organic, a second skin conforming and shifting fluidly with his every minute motion. Mesmerized by the sight, Tyson could only stand frozen as the silver tide rose up his shoulders and across his chest, enveloping his torso in a seamless, glistening coat.


    Panic flared within him as the nanobots consumed his clothing in their path down his legs. His heart slammed against his ribs at the thought that this technology could subsume him entirely. But just as despair threatened to overwhelm him, the odd sensation faded away. Blinking in surprise, Tyson looked down to see his clothes reappearing, perfectly intact as if the nanobots had never touched them at all. Relief flooded through him, easing back the panic.


    Information flickered across his vision as his heads-up display confirmed the integration was complete. The suit was now indistinguishable from his own skin and clothing, its presence betrayed only by the information on the display hovering at the edge of his sight. Tyson let out a long, slow breath, flexing his fingers and marveling at the flexibility the innocuous nanosuit provided.


    He donned the helmet of his Spacesuit. Next, he buckled on the belt, and through his HUD, he activated the Spacesuit, then the Gray Goo Suit. The nanomachines quickly consumed the suit. They broke it down and rebuilt it flawlessly, incorporating the spacesuit''s internal filters, radio transmitter, power supply, and sensors into the nanosuit.


    New information flickered across the heads-up display. The Gray Goo Suit now contained all the capabilities of the original Spacesuit. Tyson grinned in satisfaction. Though the Spacesuit was low profile, save the helmet, the nanosuit now held all the same capabilities, all while feeling like a second skin, even over his head.


    Tyson took one final glance at the status display in his HUD. The system showed that the Spacesuit had been destroyed, but that it would respawn the next day. This quirk of the mechanics presented an interesting opportunity that Tyson filed away for future use. Any items or equipment he purchased could be temporarily consumed by his Gray Goo Suit, incorporating their attributes and capabilities. The next day the items would return to his inventory, intact but separated from the nanosuit.


    This could allow Tyson to outfit his allies. He could pass the Grey Goo Suit his CP purchased gear, have the nanomachines absorb them, then when they respawned the following day, he could give them to a Companion to bolster their own abilities. For now, Tyson was simply satisfied knowing that the nanosuit held all the capabilities of the original Spacesuit while feeling like a second skin.


    Exhaustion weighed heavily on Tyson as the thrill of his new abilities faded. While a part of him itched to delve into the suit''s functions a larger part recognized the need for rest. With a tired sigh, Tyson clicked off the lights and shuffled to his bed. The mattress embraced him as he sank into its comfort, the day''s tension easing from his muscles. His eyes drifted closed, mind already fogging with sleep. Experimentation could wait until tomorrow. Within moments Tyson slipped into darkness.


    <hr>


    Tyson


    Origins: Human, Humanoid, Drop-In, Space Pirate, Bad Guy


    Race: Augment Human-Betazoid (Hybrid)


    Character Points: 1050


    Reality Points: 50


    Ship Points: 1400


    Credits: 0


    Status Effects: (none)


    Drawbacks:


    Gauntlet (Locked)


    Ensign Marty Stu


    A Simple Re''Q''uest


    Hybrid (Betazoid)


    Amok Time/Blood Fever


    Outlawed


    The Voyager Problem


    Perks:


    Cosmic Awareness


    Out of Nowhere


    Going Native


    Live and Let Live


    This is (Not?) Rocket Science


    Kinda Bland


    Determinator


    Painted On


    Snakeskin


    Adaptable


    Duelist


    Master with your Hands


    Best of the Best


    Everything Is A Weapon


    Augment


    Force Specialization: Intelligence


    Tactical Info


    Sever Force


    Items:


    Laser Blade


    Spacesuit (Destroyed - Respawn on 03/01/2364)


    Agony Booth


    Cloaking Minefield


    V-KO IV Nursedroid


    Lightsaber


    Gray Goo Suit


    Personal Reality:


    Access Key


    Security System


    High-Security Inter-Reality Connecting Door (Star Trek Enterprise)


    Medical Bay


    High-Security Inter-Reality Connecting Door (Star Wars Knights of the Old Republic)


    Key Link


    Housing Complex


    Basic Nutrition


    Spaceships:


    Tramp Freighter (Destroyed - Respawn on 02/28/2365)


    Sith Interceptor (Upgrades: Bridge)

 Season 1: Episode 4.2 - Taris

    Episode 4.2 - Taris


    Stardate: 4 1 1 6 5.


    Earth Standard Date: March 01, 2364.


    Galactic Date: 20th Day of the Second Month, 3956 BBY


    Location: Housing Complex, Personal Reality


    The following morning Tyson emerged from the room in his Housing Complex feeling refreshed and ready to start the new day. Alysia already sat cross-legged in the middle of the living area, deep in meditation. Her presence exuded a sense of calm. Meanwhile, Vicky sat in the kitchen.


    Tyson''s gaze fell upon the spread of fresh fruit laid out before Vicky. As he approached, he greeted them softly, "Good morning," not wanting to disturb the peaceful atmosphere. Gesturing toward the fruit, he added respectfully, "May I?"


    Vicky gave a prompt nod and a slight smile. "Of course, Master," she replied.


    Tyson seated himself and began to eat. Alysia remained immersed in her meditation, undisturbed by Tyson entering. He ate in silence, observing the Jedi. After finishing his simple meal, he waited patiently for Alysia to conclude her meditation. Finally, she began to stir, gradually emerging from the depths of her meditative state.


    "Good morning, Alysia," Tyson began, "Forgive my intrusion into your meditations, but there is something I wish to discuss before we depart this place."


    Alysia inclined her head slightly in permission for him to continue.


    "On the Endar Spire, after I helped you to the Medical Bay, I encountered another Dark Jedi," Tyson explained. "He introduced himself as Darth Bandon before attacking me. I was able to defeat him in combat." He paused, gathering his thoughts. Alysia waited patiently for him to continue. "We should be returning to the planet''s surface soon, and there is no telling what dangers we might face once we leave this sanctuary," he went on. "I hoped to demonstrate my proficiency with the lightsaber, so you would have no reservations about me wielding one in combat or defense, should the need arise. And perhaps offer some tips on my technique. "


    Tyson hesitated briefly before voicing his final concern. "Also...I was wondering if you could answer a few questions about etiquette. Is carrying a red blade considered taboo or inappropriate? Also, are there any issues with a non-Jedi such as myself carrying a lightsaber?"


    He let the question hang in the air between them, his tone conveying his desire for wisdom and understanding.


    Alysia regarded him thoughtfully as the lingering tranquility of her meditation gave way to sharp focus. She weighed his request carefully before responding. "Good morning, Tyson," she finally said, her voice measured and considerate. "I appreciate you bringing these issues to me. First, I''m not sure if you realize it, but Darth Bandon was Malak''s Shadow Hand. Bandon was second in command of the Sith forces. Defeating him is a significant victory for the Republic. Besting him in combat speaks not only to your skills but will be a boon to our efforts against the Sith."


    She paused, weighing her next words. "The traditions surrounding lightsaber use are complex. It is not the color of the blade that defines its wielder, but the intent and actions behind its use. The taboo around red lightsabers stems from their association with the Sith and the Dark Side. Lightsaber crystals are rarely found in red naturally. That color comes from Dark Jedi and Sith infusing the crystal with their hate and anger, making it ''bleed.'' However," she continued reasonably, "under the right circumstances and in capable hands, the use of such a blade could be justified."


    Alysia met Tyson''s gaze directly. "I would be interested to observe your skill with the lightsaber. Defeating a Sith at Bandon''s level is no small task. While I don''t doubt your claim, demonstrating that you can handle a lightsaber wisely, would be prudent." Rising smoothly, Alysia signaled her readiness. "Show me what you know, Tyson, and how you intend to wield the lightsaber you inherited."


    Tyson stepped into the middle of the living area, while Alysia stepped to the kitchen, to give him space to demonstrate his proficiency with the lightsaber without endangering her or Vicky. The Grey Goo Suit had molded itself to include a pair of simple slings on his belt for carrying the weapons. Tyson retrieved the lightsaber from the sling, feeling the heft of the metal hilt. He positioned himself holding the inactive lightsaber loosely at his side. Tyson gripped the metal hilt of the lightsaber tightly, feeling its familiar weight in his palm. It was the one with the emerald blade that he had been granted when he chose the Force Specialization: Intelligence Perk. His basic knowledge and skills at using the elegant weapon had been directly implanted into his mind.


    With a snap and a hiss, Tyson ignited the blade. The vibrant green plasma beam hummed to life. He held the lightsaber loosely at his side in a ready position, turning his body sideways to present a smaller target.


    Slowly at first, then with growing confidence, Tyson moved through the basic sequences of Shii-Cho. It was the only lightsaber form he knew. Shii-Cho, form I, was the first form of lightsaber combat taught to Jedi initiates. It was built off the movements of traditional swordplay. Tyson stepped and turned in the sweeping motions of the ancient martial art, using broad slashes and defensive blocks designed for open combat. The movements flowed smoothly from Tyson, evidence of both his quick aptitude and the effectiveness of the muscle memory imparted by his Perk.


    Alysia observed the demonstration intently. The Jedi Knight evaluated more than just the technical competence evident in Tyson''s performance. She saw the calm focus in his eyes, the restraint and care in each motion, the respect for the power he now wielded. However unorthodox Tyson''s path to this moment, his understanding of the fundamentals of the lightsaber demonstrated his readiness to wield it.


    Tyson deactivated the weapon. The emerald light of the lightsaber winked out as he lowered it to his side.


    "Technically, your form is acceptable. Your motions are rote, mechanical, it''s clear you aren''t comfortable with the weapon yet." Alysia began a note of critical approval in her tone, "I also did not sense any strong emotions that would impact your focus. So I have no reservations about you wielding a lightsaber," she admitted, a significant acknowledgment coming from the Jedi. Yet her expression grew serious, her tone cautious, as she added, "However, I would warn against openly carrying it for now." Tyson met her gaze with an inquisitive look, wordlessly prompting her to elaborate. Alysia''s eyes took on a distant cast as she painted a picture of the harsh reality awaiting them on Taris. "Undoubtedly, the Sith will be actively hunting any Republic survivors, searching for Bastila, Padawan Shan, in particular," she explained. Her gaze refocused on Tyson, her tone grave. "Igniting a lightsaber would make you an instant target," she said, underscoring the seriousness of their situation. "I was already planning to refrain from openly wielding my own unless faced with no other option."


    Tyson absorbed the implications clearly in her words. The presence of an active lightsaber would draw dangerous attention, complicating their mission and putting them at far greater risk of discovery. Alysia''s advice was practical and wise. In a place where the Sith''s presence was strong, and they were actively hunting for Republic survivors, discretion was undoubtedly the safest path forward. Acknowledging the prudence of her caution, Tyson nodded. "I understand completely. I''ll keep the weapon hidden and only draw it if faced with no other choice." He paused, considering their situation, then suggested, "In the same vein, I recommend we acquire some different attire for you as soon as possible. If they''re searching for a Jedi, your robes could draw unwanted attention as well." He mentioned to Alysia, "Perhaps it would be safer if you remained here until Vicky and I can find you some less conspicuous attire?" he suggested.


    "I would prefer to return with you," Alysia said simply.


    Tyson nodded, understanding her desire to stay by their side and leave his strange Personal Reality. He respected her choice. "Are you ready then?" he asked, steeling himself for the uncertainty that lay ahead.


    "I am," Alysia affirmed without hesitation.


    "Ready, Master," Vicky echoed, her semi-synthesized voice conveying an unwavering devotion. The android''s commitment to Tyson was absolute.


    Together, the unlikely trio made their way to the door that led to the antechamber. They stepped through the threshold, into the Warehouse. Tyson placed his hand on the pedestal, initiating the sequence that would open the door out of his Personal Reality. It swung open with a soft hiss, revealing an alley between buildings of a bustling plaza. Beyond it, the plaza teemed with life and motion. Towering buildings stretched towards the sky on all sides, their gleaming surfaces catching the warm light of the planet''s sun. Walkways and bridges crisscrossed between buildings at dizzying heights, weaving together the soaring urban landscape.


    Well-dressed citizens paused in their morning commute to gaze at the strange trio emerging from the alley with caution in their eyes. Hovercars and speeders zipped by overhead, their engines a constant hum underscoring the symphony of urban sounds. Tyson hesitated, adjusting to the sensory onslaught. The peace of his Personal Reality felt suddenly very far away. Beside him, Vicky stood impassive, unaffected by their abrupt transition.


    With a tap of his Access Key, Tyson collected the high-security door, reforming it into its card form and closing the way to his Personal Reality. Wordlessly, the trio blended into the flow of foot traffic, one more ripple in the tides of Taris.


    Tyson''s gaze fell upon a shadowed corner of the plaza. An older man was being accosted by two larger and rougher-looking assailants. One was an alien of a species unfamiliar to Tyson, while the other thug and their cornered man were both human.


    "Davik says you missed your last payment," the human brute growled menacingly.


    The alien began to speak in a guttural, alien tongue. Tyson''s universal translator automatically translated the words into English. "Davik doesn''t like you missing payments."


    The old man held up his hands pleadingly. "Here, I''ve got 50 credits. A down payment. That should buy me some time."


    The human shook his head. "Sorry, you''re out of time. Now it''s all or nothing. Davik can''t have people not paying his debts."


    "But I don''t have that much!" the old man protested desperately. "How can I give him credits I don''t have?"


    "That''s too bad," the alien rumbled in its translated speech. "Davik''s going to want to make an example out of you. You''re coming with us."


    The old man''s eyes went wide with terror. "No! Help, somebody, help!" he cried out. "They''re going to kill me!"


    His pleas echoed across the plaza, but the indifferent crowds continued about their business, averting their gazes. It reminded Tyson of how people would ignore the homeless in cities in his previous life. Tyson felt a swell of sympathy for the man''s plight. Though getting involved could prove unwise, he knew he could not simply stand by. His feet carried him towards the unfolding confrontation before conscious thought could intervene, his desire to protect the helpless man overriding caution. But Alysia''s gentle yet unyielding grip on his arm stopped him short.


    Alysia''s voice was low but firm, ensuring her words reached his ears alone. "I know you wish to help, but consider the implications before acting. Taris operates by its own rules and hierarchies of power. Interfering in the affairs of its underworld could draw dangerous attention to us, jeopardizing our mission." Tyson assessed the thugs as Alysia continued, "What''s more, inserting ourselves in others'' business without a full understanding of the situation risks escalation. We are strangers here. Our involvement may not be welcomed. It''s the harsh reality across the galaxy. Sometimes, intervention with good intent can worsen the plight of those we try to save." Alysia''s hold on Tyson''s arm eased, but her stance remained resolute. "Our presence on Taris already walks a delicate line. Earning the enmity of a gang, when we strive to avoid notice, could endanger not just us, but all we''re here to protect."


    The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.


    She offered a compromise, "If you wish to help, perhaps there''s a subtler way. We could discreetly aid the man without direct confrontation. Or at the very least, alert the authorities in secret."


    The discussion between Tyson and Alysia did not go unnoticed by the two thugs accosting the cornered man. The human turned his attention toward them and said in a threatening tone, "Looks like we''ve got some witnesses here." His alien companion added menacingly, "Davik hates witnesses."


    Tyson glanced around with feigned confusion as if searching for the source of the voices addressing them. "Witnesses? Is someone talking to us?" he asked innocently. "I''m sorry, no witnesses here. Just us blind guys."


    The human thug scowled, his temper flaring at Tyson''s flippant attitude. "Oh a funny guy?" he growled. "I''ll teach you a lesson." He reached aggressively for the blaster at his hip.


    But Tyson was faster on the draw. The Grey Goo suit allowed him to smoothly draw his own blaster pistol before the thug''s hand finished wrapping around his weapon. Thanks to the Master with your Hands perk he didn''t even need to aim properly. He rapidly fired off two shots, one for each thug, center mass. The twin blaster bolts hit their targets squarely, dropping the two assailants lifeless to the ground. Startled cries erupted from the gathered crowd as they scattered in a panic, focused only on fleeing the violence rather than identifying the source of the shots.


    Tyson calmly re-holstered his weapon, ensuring that he, Vicky, and Alysia remained undetected as the shooters. Alysia let out a resigned sigh, the sound spoke volumes. Tyson''s decisive action was not the subtle approach she would have preferred.


    Seemingly unperturbed by her disapproval, Tyson quipped lightly, "You have to know that once we were noticed there was going to be a fight. But look on the bright side Alysia, I found you some clothes¡­" He said in an attempt to lighten the tense mood.


    The man they had just rescued stared at Tyson, his eyes conveying a mixture of shock and gratitude. Though the intervention had been violent, it had undoubtedly just saved his life, a fact he clearly recognized despite the unexpected nature of the rescue. Relief and gratitude mingled with the lingering panic from his near-death experience. "Thank you," he gasped, still catching his breath. "Those bounty hunters were going to drag me away and kill me. My wife warned me I shouldn''t have taken a loan from Davik Kang. Now I can''t pay him back." He shook his head ruefully. "It''s not good to owe a crime lord money. He''ll just keep sending bounty hunters after me until I''m dead."


    Tyson''s mouth quirked into a lopsided grin, his nonchalant attitude seeming out of place after the violent encounter. "You probably should''ve listened to your wife," he remarked lightly, repeating the old adage, "Happy wife, happy life."


    Alysia shot him a withering look, unimpressed by his flippant response. "You''re one to talk," she said sharply. "You didn''t listen to me just before you shot them."


    "I did listen to you," Tyson countered, an impish glint in his eyes. "I heard everything you said... But, I needed to choose a different route as the situation called for." He paused then added, "Plus you''re not my wife."


    The rescued man''s head swiveled back and forth between them as they bickered, urgency creeping back into his posture. "I''m getting out of here before any more of Davik''s goons show up," he said hastily, "and you should do the same!" With that, he turned and hurried away, disappearing into the shadows of the alley.


    Tyson''s eyes darted around settling on the wall of the building beside them. Seizing the opportunity, he strode over and grabbed the corpses on his way. His Augment strength allowed him to easily drag the limp forms. He hauled the bodies to the wall, used his High-Security Inter-Reality Connecting Door card, and dragged them into his Personal Reality. Alysia and Vicky followed close behind. Once they were all inside, Tyson closed the door.


    He turned to face Alysia, "Look, I know that was reckless," he began, "but everyone on this planet is searching for a female Jedi. You''re too conspicuous." He gestured emphatically with his hands as he spoke. Alysia''s Jedi robes were obvious. "If anyone should be drawing attention here, it''s me. Vicky looks more human than any droid I''ve ever seen, and you...well, you''re clearly a Jedi." He paused, meeting her gaze. "I''m just a big guy with a blaster. We needed to get you clothes, and I didn''t have any credits." His eyes flicked downward briefly. "Now we''ve got options for you to choose from. I got twenty credits off those guys and extra blasters too." Excitement entered his voice as he continued. "And we know the local crime lord''s name, Davik Kang."


    Tyson''s statement hung in the air between them as Alysia considered his actions in the plaza. Her expression shifted from understanding to concern and finally settled into resignation. Tyson''s bold actions, while morally questionable, had been driven by an instinct to protect those he now traveled with, especially Alysia, a Jedi in hiding, a particularly precarious position given the state of Taris.


    "While brash, your actions were not entirely without reason," Alysia finally said, meeting Tyson''s gaze. "The galaxy, darkened as it is by the pall of the Sith, is often unkind to those unable to defend themselves. Your desire to shield Vicky and me from harm, even at risk to yourself, speaks well of your character." She paused, considering the pragmatic necessities of their current situation. "As a Jedi, I have little need for credits, as my path requires a life of simplicity. Your resourcefulness in obtaining what we require, while regrettable in method, is appreciated." A shadow crossed her face. "I''m familiar with the name, Davik Kang. He holds much power in Taris'' underworld. Our encounter with his men may have unforeseen repercussions, but we will face them as they come."


    Alysia stepped closer, her eyes moving from the still forms now lying within Tyson''s Personal Reality to the items he had managed to procure. "The clothes, credits, and extra blasters will aid us for the moment, but let us not forget how dearly they were bought. We walk a fine line, Tyson. Your actions, if you are to remain true to yourself, must be weighed against who you strive to be." Her words were gentle, meant not to rebuke but to remind.


    Alysia gathered up the clothes that were in the best condition, tucking them under one arm before retreating to the Housing Complex to change out of her Jedi robes. The plainclothes would help her blend in better among Taris''s upper city residents. Meanwhile, Tyson placed the blasters on a shelf in the warehouse for later use. Though hidden from view, his Lightsaber and Laser Sword remained a reassuring weight at the small of Tyson''s back, tucked away hidden by the Grey Goo Suit.


    When Alysia returned, she was dressed in mixed attire from the two defeated thugs. To any observer, she would appear as just another citizen going about her business. This disguise was baggy on her smaller frame but would allow her to go unnoticed through the urban landscape without drawing undue attention.


    Exiting the Personal Reality, Tyson retrieved the card symbolizing the door, and the group stepped out among the busy streets, Tyson, Vicky, and Alysia blending in without a second glance. Amid the throngs of diverse sentient species and the constant buzz of activity, they now seemed like ordinary denizens. The cacophony of urban life continued unabated around the pair as they set off, just more faces in the crowd.


    The trio walked closely together through the crowded streets, their eyes constantly scanning the masses for any sign of Bastila, Avner, or the others. Alysia leaned in murmuring, "Where exactly are we headed?"


    Tyson pursed his lips thoughtfully as they maneuvered around a lumbering Ithorian. "Anyone who survived the Endar Spire is likely laying low or searching for Bastila as well," he reasoned. "Our chances of stumbling across them in this endless sea of people are slim at best. We should remain focused on locating Bastila first and foremost." He gestured broadly to indicate the sprawling city surrounding them. "With so many people crammed into this urban maze, pinpointing her location won''t be easy. But considering the Sith are also hunting Bastila, I see two potential approaches we could take."


    Alysia curious at his reasoning arched an eyebrow. "And they are?"


    "Option one. We infiltrate the Sith by whatever means necessary. Get close enough to monitor their intelligence, and sabotage their efforts if possible. It''s risky but it could yield results."


    "I don''t love the sound of that plan," Alysia muttered, "Let''s hear option two."


    Tyson shrugged, narrowly avoiding collision with a scurrying alien. "We find a lively cantina and listen for any whispers regarding a Jedi fugitive. Might get lucky and pick up a lead or two. Not the most proactive strategy, but better than wandering aimlessly."


    Alysia huffed in exasperation, quickening her pace to keep up with Tyson''s long strides. "That''s it? Those are our only options for finding one woman on this entire wretched planet?"


    "Not exactly brimming with alternatives here," Tyson said breezily. He flashed her a lopsided grin. "Unless you can sense Bastila''s presence within the Force? Because I''ve got nothing on that front."


    Alysia grimaced and shook her head. As much as she wished otherwise, Bastila''s presence remained obscured to her. Tyson led Alysia into a side street, away from the crush of pedestrians. Tyson''s Gray Goo Suit had absorbed the radio and sensors from his Spacesuit. The nanotech interfaced seamlessly and connected the local networks with his HUD. Allowing Tyson to delve into Taris'' digital landscape. The city''s data streams unfolded before him, an invaluable asset providing more than just maps and locations. Finding the nearest cantina was simple. Cantinas served as bars and entertainment, but also as hubs of information. Rumors flowed as freely as the drinks, with individuals from all walks of life crossing paths. In a city as complex as Taris, they could be crucial for gathering intelligence, making contacts, or finding unexpected allies.


    Tyson finally turned to Alysia and Vicky. "I''ve located the nearest cantina. Follow me,"


    Alysia nodded, her steady gaze conveying understanding. She knew such locations held the potential for overhearing something useful or for discreet inquiries that could lead them closer to Bastila. Vicky followed without question, sensors processing every detail around them.


    Their journey was uneventful until the lively backdrop of the cantina greeted them. As Tyson, Alysia, and Vicky entered, the lively sounds and scents enveloped them immediately. The interior was an eclectic blend of traditional and futuristic design; curved metallic surfaces merging seamlessly with faux stone walls chiseled in a rough-hewn style. Overhead, the vaulted ceiling hung an assortment of light fixtures that filled the space with rhythmic flashes in sync with the music. Tables and booths were scattered across the floor with no discernible order. Each table presented a microcosm of Tarisian society. Rugged mercenaries bartered contracts with dapper businessmen, roguish smugglers shared drinks with stoic bounty hunters, and groups of off-duty soldiers bantered loudly, camaraderie enduring despite simmering tensions below the surface.


    At the far end, the bar stretched along the entire wall, its counter lined with bottles. The bartender, a droid with a polished chrome finish, mixed drinks and conversed with ease, its movements efficient and programming personable.


    Throughout the room, holoscreens and live entertainment stages offered constant distraction and diversion. In one corner, an alien band played strangely harmonious and rhythmic melodies. News feeds, racing results, dueling contests, and ads played on screens displayed the planet''s information and amusement stream. The aroma of spiced cuisine mingled with the tang of alien drinks, the air thick with scents. Conversations in hundreds of languages created a constant hum, punctuated by bursts of laughter, surprise, or the occasional argument.


    Tyson wove through the crowded cantina, his eyes scanning the diverse mix of patrons as he made his way to the droid bartender. The angular metal form stood motionless behind the bar, optical sensors observing the room with an air of quiet attentiveness. Tyson slid onto a stool before the droid and asked, "What can I get for 1 credit a drink?" His question was a subtle probe, an attempt to open the door for casual conversation with the metallic bartender.


    The droid exuded a charismatic presence that seemed to draw patrons in, making it an ideal source for taking the pulse of the cantina and, by extension, the city. "Nothing worth drinking for the taste," the droid quipped in response to Tyson''s inquiry. The programmed humor lent it a measure of authenticity.


    Tyson laughed appreciatively and said, "Three please." With a whir of servos, the droid produced three glasses, the amber liquid within glowing under the cantina''s dim lights. Tyson gathered the drinks and passed a glass to Alysia and Vicky, he steered the conversation toward the event that had brought them to Taris; the arrival of the escape pods.


    "Crazy what happened with those pods coming down, huh?" he ventured lightly, keeping his tone casual. The comment was a subtle prompt, a way of guiding the discussion toward information without arousing suspicion.


    "I have yet to see one myself, but many are talking about them," the droid responded, optical sensors meeting Tyson''s gaze. "Seems most landed in the Lower City."


    Sensing an opening, Tyson leaned forward. "The Lower City?" he asked, infusing his voice with interest.


    The droid''s programming compelled it to elaborate, providing Tyson with valuable intelligence. "Usually it''s easy to go down to the lower city, where there are more gambling options and live entertainment," it explained, "but certain black and silver armored troopers have barred the way."


    Tyson nodded slowly as if in understanding, though inwardly he absorbed this critical detail. The presence of Sith troopers and their efforts to restrict access implied not only the Sith''s presence on Taris but also their active interest in controlling the lower city. It seemed likely this was connected to the escape pods or something, or someone, related to them.


    "I get you," Tyson replied after a moment. He left a few extra credits on the bar for the droid. The brief exchange provided a glimpse into the complexity of their mission here and the challenges they would face navigating the city''s stratified society and the Sith''s involvement.


    Tyson''s thoughts swirled with the weight of the droid''s revelations. The Lower City. It had been so long since he''d considered the Knights of the Old Republic story that the finer details had faded from his memory. But fragments were beginning to resurface. Bastila''s escape pod had crashed deeper into Taris. She ended up in the Lower City, captured by some gang. The Sith''s interest in controlling access to the Lower City was an effort to find Bastila. If there was any hope of finding the Jedi, he would need to descend into the Lower City, which was easier said than done with the Sith restricting passage. He furrowed his brow, considering the options. Perhaps he could ambush a Sith patrol and wear their armor as a disguise, or forge the proper authorizations.

 Season 1: Episode 4.3 - Lower City

    Episode 4.3 - The Lower City


    Stardate: 41165.2


    Earth Standard Date: March 01, 2364.


    Galactic Date: 20th Day of the Second Month, 3956 BBY


    Location: Taris, Upper City


    Tyson approached the elevator to the Lower City with Alysia and Vicky following close behind. The Sith guard standing watch outside the elevator raised a hand, halting their progress. "The elevator to the Lower City is off limits," he declared, suspicion heavy in his voice. "Only official Sith patrols and authorized personnel allowed." His eyes raked over them disdainfully. "You three clearly aren''t Sith. So unless you''ve got papers proving otherwise, move along."


    The guard''s demand, ''move along'', transported Tyson''s mind back to his first viewing of Star Wars, when Obi-Wan Kenobi used the Jedi Mind Trick to compel a stormtrooper. The perk that granted Tyson access to the Force had given him rudimentary knowledge of various abilities, including the Mind Trick.


    Drawing a slow, calming breath, Tyson reached for the Force flowing through him. Meeting the guard''s gaze steadily, he projected an aura of calm authority. With a subtle wave of his hand, he suggested, "We have the proper authorization." His voice rippled with persuasive power, not commanding, but implanting the thought gently into the guard''s mind.


    The guard''s stance softened, suspicion fading as Tyson''s suggestion took root. "You have the proper authorization," he echoed placidly. No dramatic change occurred, only quiet acceptance of Tyson''s words as fact.


    With a nod, the guard stepped aside, granting them entry to the elevator.


    The lift descended into the depths of Taris''s Lower City. Alysia turned to Tyson, a look of approval warming her elegant features as she regarded the young man. "Your ability to adapt and utilize the Force is commendable," she began, her melodic voice imbued with the sincerity of genuine praise. "You demonstrated not only skill but restraint back there."


    Her endorsement resonated within Tyson, affirming his growing connection to the Force. Yet this acknowledgment came with an admonishment, "However, it''s crucial to remain vigilant against the temptation to use the Force for personal gain. The line between influence and control can blur easily, and what begins as a tool for avoiding conflict can become a means to impose one''s will upon others."


    Her cautionary words invoked the principles that guided the Jedi Order, principles that valued peace, understanding, and the sanctity of free will over the selfish whims of any individual. "The Force is a part of all living things, and to use it to bend others to our desires, no matter how benign our intentions might seem, risks aligning ourselves closer to the seductive will of the Dark Side." Alysia placed a gentle yet firm hand on Tyson''s shoulder, underscoring the gravity of her warning through the simple gesture. "Your journey with the Force is just beginning, and your potential is vast. But with that potential comes responsibility." Her piercing eyes held his with a stern maternal gaze. "The Jedi eschew attachments and material possessions to avoid abusing the Force for personal ends."


    The elevator slid open with a soft hiss, the doors parting to reveal a tense scene within the Lower City corridor. Tyson, Vicky, and Alysia found themselves thrust into the midst of a territorial standoff between two rival gangs, the air crackling with anticipation of violence soon to come.


    At the center of the confrontation stood a tall, reptilian Trandoshan, scales glistening under the dim lights. His voice was laced with contempt as he declared, "Beks are nothing but Bantha fodder. The Vulkars are the strongest!" The Trandoshan''s words were meant to provoke, fueling the fire that had been steadily growing between the two factions.


    In response, a Rodian with mottled green skin retorted with equal venom in his voice, "We''ll teach you who''s strongest!" Years of rivalry and hatred could be heard in his words. Around them, other gang members brandished humming vibroswords.


    The arguing was shattered when the Trandoshan, driven by anger and bravado, suddenly pulled a crackling dagger from his belt. This was no ordinary blade; visible blue arcs of electricity encircled the weapon''s edge. With a cry that was part challenge, part battle roar, the Trandoshan lunged forward and plunged the electrified dagger into the Rodian''s chest.


    The act proved to be the spark that lit the powder keg. The tense standoff exploded into an open melee. The clash of vibroswords rang out, echoing down the Lower City corridors as gang members collided. Tyson, Vicky, and Alysia could only watch as the chaotic brawl unfolded.


    With the fall of their Rodian comrade, the Beks found themselves suddenly outnumbered. The Vulkars pressed their advantage mercilessly, raining blows upon the surrounded Beks with their vibroswords. Though the remaining Beks fought with desperate fury, they were no match for the coordinated ferocity of their hated rivals. One by one the Beks were cut down, their vain attempts at defense collapsing beneath the onslaught. As the last Bek fell with a gurgling cry, an eerie silence descended upon the blood-slicked corridor.


    Then the Trandoshan turned his cold reptilian gaze upon the trio of Tyson, Alysia, and Vicky. The Trandoshan''s slit-pupil eyes narrowed as he contemplated his next move, his clawed hand tightening on the grip of the still-dripping vibrosword.


    When he finally spoke, his words shattered the tense silence in a way Tyson and Alysia hadn''t anticipated. Pointing greedily at Vicky with one scaled finger, the Trandoshan said, "I''ve never seen such a sexy droid. Give her to me, and I''ll let you go. You''ll get to keep your girl and your life."


    If the fight wasn''t enough, the demand underscored the lawlessness of Taris''s Lower City. It also sparked a protective instinct in Tyson. He considered Alysia''s earlier warning about possessiveness. Vicky was his, though he tried not to treat her as property, but as a companion. Tyson searched for a way to defuse the situation without violence, but giving up Vicky wasn''t an option. He also carefully considered his words, not wanting to trigger any concern from Alysia that he was being overly possessive.


    "Vicky isn''t property to be bartered," Tyson stated firmly, willing his voice to carry a calm authority. "She''s an individual, and she''s with us. We''re not looking for trouble, but we won''t be intimidated into giving up one of our own to satisfy you, Vulkar."


    Behind Tyson, Alysia remained silent but ready, her understanding of the galaxy''s darker corners telling her this delicate situation could escalate quickly if mishandled. She tensed, prepared for the fight ahead, though she lacked a weapon. Still, she was far from defenseless.


    The Trandoshan hissed in frustration, taken aback by Tyson''s unexpected defiance. For a moment the reptilian creature seemed unsure how to respond due to Tyson''s overconfidence. Seizing the hesitation, Tyson continued evenly, "We''re just passing through, looking for information. We mean no disrespect to you or the Vulkars, but we stand by our companion. Perhaps there''s another way we can come to an understanding without resorting to violence."


    The Trandoshan''s slitted eyes narrowed dangerously at Tyson''s diplomatic words, perceiving the human''s effort at de-escalation as a sign of weakness. In the Lower City power was often measured by one''s willingness to kill. Sensing an opportunity to assert dominance, the reptilian creature let loose a menacing hiss and drew his electrified vibroblade from its sheath, the weapon crackling with deadly energy.


    Tyson''s instincts screamed danger. The Trandoshan charged forward with murderous intent. But Tyson was far from defenseless. Leaning on Master with Your Hands, he drew his blaster pistol in a blur of motion. He fired off a quick shot, catching the charging Trandoshan squarely in the chest before he was within stabbing range. The Trandoshan collapsed mid-stride, his attack neutralized. Seeing their comrade fall, one of the other Vulkars roared in rage and rushed to engage, only to meet the same swift fate from Tyson''s blasters. The remaining alien, realizing his vulnerability, desperately lunged at Tyson. But he was already in motion, spinning away and firing with lethal accuracy. The final Vulkar hit the ground hard, the echoes of blaster fire fading into the ambient sounds of the Lower City.


    In the aftermath, an uneasy stillness descended on the scene, broken only by the crackle of electricity still arcing along the fallen Trandoshan''s vibroblade. Tyson lowered his smoking blaster, glancing around warily in case any other threats emerged. Alysia stood poised beside him, ready to support her companion despite being unarmed. Her Jedi abilities would have aided Tyson if needed, though his skills had proven sufficient to end the confrontation decisively. Vicky hovered near them, unharmed.


    The entire encounter had lasted mere seconds, the immediacy of the threat leaving little room for alternatives beyond self-defense. Though Tyson regretted the necessity of lethal force, his actions had likely prevented further violence. If this was how things would be going, the group was beginning to recognize that in the lawless Lower City, strength and decisiveness might be the only currency that mattered.


    In the aftermath of the confrontation, the silence that enveloped the alleyway was broken by Vicky''s voice, her tone carrying an unmistakable note of gratitude. "Master, I thank you for defending me," she said, her advanced AI processing the events with a complexity that mirrored human emotion. Despite her synthetic nature, there was a warmth in her acknowledgment, a recognition of Tyson''s quick actions not just as a matter of his own survival but as an act of protecting her.


    Tyson let out a long, slow breath, the adrenaline of combat draining from his system. He glanced over at Vicky and nodded, acknowledging her thanks. Though she was an android, her voice held a convincing warmth and sincerity. Tyson supposed she was designed to emulate human emotions and social interactions. "We look out for each other," he responded simply.


    Alysia kept her silence, observing the exchange between Tyson and Vicky with a keen eye. Though his response to Vicky''s gratitude had been simple, Alysia detected subtle undercurrents beneath Tyson''s words. She noticed the protectiveness he radiated, yes, but also something more, a hint of possessiveness that whispered of deeper connections and unconscious bonds. This possessiveness did not spring from any dark well of control or malice within Tyson, Alysia knew. Rather, it seemed born of an earnest need to shelter those under his care from harm. It spoke of a growing sense of duty and responsibility toward Vicky and Alysia, reflecting the bonds beginning to form between them through the trials they had weathered together. Tyson was still fresh to the Force, Alysia mused, still learning to balance its gifts and its burdens. Now was not the time to lecture him about possessiveness, not when her past words about such things still echoed in Tyson''s mind. This was a lesson he would need to absorb in his own time when the stress of their situation had passed. For now, Alysia held her peace, trusting Tyson to find his way. There would be time enough later to guide him, if needed, down the proper path.


    Tyson surveyed the hallway, ensuring no other threats lurked nearby, or had been drawn to the sounds of combat. The corpses of the thugs sprawled lifelessly across the grimy alleyway, but for now, at least, they appeared to be safe.


    Kneeling beside the first body, Tyson rifled through the pockets of the dead men. He claimed the meager spoils; a handful of credits that amounted to a pittance. Next, Tyson''s gaze settled on the vibroblades scattered around, some still held in the Vulkars'' lifeless grips. He pried a sword from the first corpse''s stiffening fingers, examining the well-worn hilt and nicked blade. The weapon had clearly seen extensive use.


    Turning, Tyson presented the vibrosword to Alysia with an apologetic look. "It''s not a lightsaber, but it''s something you can wield proficiently," he offered, knowing no common blade could replace the elegant weapon she was reticent to draw. Alysia accepted the proffered sword, testing its heft and balance. Though far cruder than her lightsaber, she knew even this simple blade could be deadly. She nodded gratefully.


    Tyson retrieved the second vibroblade. He held it above his head, the blade sliding toward his back. He marveled as the Grey Goo Suit created a sheath for the vibrosword to slip into.


    Lastly was the electrified dagger from the lead Vulker. He turned to the medical droid waiting nearby, "If anyone tries to harm you or force you to go with them against your will, you have this to defend yourself," he instructed Vicky gravely, pressing the dagger into her hand. "I know you''re not programmed to fight, but it''s pretty simple." His mouth quirked in a weak attempt at humor. "The pointy end goes into the bad guy."


    "I understand, master. Thank you, again," Vicky intoned.


    You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.


    The corridors of Taris''s Lower City were like a maze to those unfamiliar with their twists and turns. Tyson''s group navigated them with the guidance of his HUD. Up ahead, the corridor opened into a wider thoroughfare, one that Tyson knew would take them directly to their destination. As they emerged from the narrow passage, the burly Trandoshan standing guard outside the cantina entrance turned his reptilian gaze upon them. His clawed hand rested casually on the heavy blaster pistol at his hip, "Leave your troubles out here, no fighting inside," he stated in a tone that brooked no argument.


    Tyson and his companions nodded in understanding. The Trandoshan stared for a moment longer, then replied with a slow blink of acknowledgment. Stepping through the cantina''s entrance, Tyson noted the air was steeped with scents of exotic spices and alien liquors. Patrons of various species filled the space. Sections catered to different tastes; some were filled with tables, and others offered solitude suitable for discreet meetings. News feeds and holovids from across the galaxy played above the bar. In one corner a stage hosted Twi''lek dancers, their sensuous movements drawing the attention of the mostly male audience.


    Tyson led his companions deeper into the cantina. His attention was drawn to a tense encounter unfolding in one of the dimly lit corners. A trio of brash thugs, emboldened by their greater numbers, approached a solitary figure seated alone at a shadowed table, his most distinguishing feature was a pair of odd-tinted goggles he wore. He exuded an air of quiet menace lost on his would-be aggressors.


    The leader of the thugs, a sneering Rodian with pea-green skin taunted, "Well, well, if it isn''t the infamous bounty hunter Calo Nord, gracing us with his presence," he jeered, voice dripping with contempt.


    The goggled man identified as Calo Nord responded with a single word, uttered tonelessly, "One."


    Confusion and bravado colored the Rodian''s response as he exchanged uncertain glances with his cronies. "What''s that supposed to mean?" he demanded, a flicker of doubt passing through his bulbous eyes. Emboldened by the safety of numbers, one of his companions added insolently, "Are you threatening us?"


    "Two," Nord replied calmly, continuing his cryptic countdown. The significance of the count was lost on the oblivious thugs.


    Sneering, the Rodian drew himself up as his confidence returned. "You think the three of us can''t take one bounty hunter? There''s more of us than you." His words mixed cocky defiance with disbelief that this lone figure could pose a true threat.


    "Three," said Nord tonelessly, the finality in his voice the last warning the thugs would receive.


    When the Rodian and his companions failed to heed the countdown''s implicit threat, pressing forward with bravado fueled by ignorance, they sealed their fate. "We''re Vulkars, the toughest gang on Taris," the Rodian blustered. "You can''t take us al--"


    His words were cut short by the sudden flash of Nord''s blaster. The cantina, already filled with whispers and veiled threats, momentarily erupted with the sharp crack of blaster fire. Nord gunned down the mouthy Rodian and his overconfident thugs with mechanical precision and detachment. Just as quickly as it began, the encounter was over, the bodies of the foolish Vulkars left cooling on the grimy cantina floor.


    The encounter, over almost as quickly as it began, left a palpable tension in its wake. Patrons of the cantina, momentarily distracted by the violence, soon returned to their drinks and conversations, proof of the desensitization to violence that permeated the Lower City.


    Tyson, witnessing the swift and lethal resolution, was reminded of the brutal realities of their environment. Calo Nord was a bounty hunter not to be trifled with.


    The incident with Calo Nord underscored the importance of caution and awareness. In a place where life was cheap and conflicts were settled with violence, understanding the players and their capabilities was crucial. Nord''s actions, while extreme, were generally ignored, proving such actions were a normal part of life in Taris''s Lower City.


    Tyson continued into another section of the cantina, giving Calo Nord a wide berth after a quiet word of caution from Alysia. "We should probably avoid that man." Heeding Alysia''s advice, Tyson deliberately circumvented the table where Calo Nord sat. As they moved cautiously through the crowded cantina, Tyson couldn''t help but reflect on the day''s troubling events, particularly the aggressive disposition of every Rodian they had encountered. In each confrontation, a brash Rodian had been the instigator.


    Tyson silently mused, "Rodians seemed to be dicks," attempting to inject some levity into the tension surrounding their small group.


    Their wary exploration of the cantina brought them to a scene that, at first glance, seemed all too familiar to Tyson. It pinged at his meta-knowledge as he saw a young blue-skinned Twi''lek female, her head-tails twitching in irritation, being accosted by yet another pushy Rodian.


    The Rodian''s condescending tone was unmistakable as he sneered, "Hey little girl, this isn''t a place for little girls. Why don''t you run along and do little girl things." His words were intended to intimidate and belittle the young Twi''lek.


    The Twi''lek''s defiant response was swift and sharp, making it clear she was no stranger to handling unwanted advances. "Why don''t you mind your own business," she retorted, her voice steady and unafraid.


    The Rodian''s crude reply veered into the realm of the deeply unsettling. Leaning in close, his antennae twitching with ill intent, he leered at the young Twi''lek, "Maybe little girls are my business." His implications were clear, revealing the kind of depraved behavior that festered unchecked in the dark underbelly of the Lower City.


    But Mission was not without her own protectors. "If you''ve got a problem with me, you''ve got a problem with Big Z," she declared, her head-tails swaying in defiance. This prelude heralded the entrance of an imposing figure. The hulking form of a Wookiee emerged from the crowd and strode to Mission''s side, placing a protective hand on her shoulder. "If you mess with Mission, you mess with Zaalbar," the Wookiee growled in Shyriiwook, baring his fangs.


    Faced with the prospect of tangling with an angry Wookiee, the Rodian''s bravado evaporated. "I didn''t want trouble with a Wookie," he sputtered, backing away from the pair. The underlying threat of Zaalbar''s physical intervention was enough to dissolve his swaggering arrogance, sending him slinking away into the crowd.


    Tyson watched the exchange unfold with a mixture of relief and respect. The young Twi''lek, Mission, had held her ground with commendable courage in the face of the Rodian''s intimidation. And the fierce loyalty displayed by Zaalbar spoke volumes about their relationship. Tyson thought he recognized the pair as companion characters from Knights of the Old Republic. He approached them with measured steps, maintaining an open and friendly demeanor. He aimed to convey his genuine need for information without alarming Mission or her imposing Wookiee companion, Zaalbar.


    "Hey, Mission, got a minute for some questions?" Tyson pitched his voice casually, carefully modulating his tone to engage the young Twi''lek without imposing. The bustling cantina surrounding them continued its symphony of alien languages and clinking glasses, lending a semblance of privacy to their exchange amidst the crowd. Drawing on his knowledge of Mission''s character from the game, Tyson paid her a sincere compliment. "I''ve heard all about how streetwise you are, and I could use some help getting information." he hoped flattery, made a good opener.


    Mission''s response was immediate, her youthful features lighting up with pride at recognition of her skills. Yet she was no naive child, easily swayed by compliments alone. Playing coy, she eyed Tyson with a look that belied her years, discerning and calculating. "I might know some stuff, but it''s gonna cost you," she replied finally, her tone a blend of teasing and pragmatic business sense.


    Tyson did not hesitate. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out half of the credits he had looted earlier from the corpses of the dead thugs. It was a gamble, but one he felt worth taking. With a flick of his wrist, he tossed the credits toward Mission, who deftly caught them. Her eyes lit up with surprise and newfound respect at Tyson''s straightforward approach.


    "What kind of information are you looking for?" Mission asked, her tone shifting to one of business. The credits resting in her palm were proof of Tyson''s seriousness.


    Tyson cut right to the chase. "Tell me about the escape pods," he said urgently, his voice brooking no ambiguity. The importance of his request was evident in the intensity of his gaze.


    Sensing the gravity behind the question, Mission leaned in, dropping her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. The noise of the crowded cantina receded into the background as she launched into her tale, recounting the aftermath of the pods'' chaotic descent, "They landed all over," she began, her words painting a picture of the confusion and jockeying for advantage that had ensued in the wake of the crashes. "But the Vulkars," she continued, a hint of disdain coloring her voice at the mention of the gang, "captured a Republic officer."


    Tyson listened intently, focused wholly on Mission''s account. Her revelation struck a chord, confirming his fears even as it ignited a faint spark of recognition. "Word on the street is her name''s Bastila," Mission disclosed, "They''re putting her up as the prize for the upcoming Swoop Race."


    As Mission finished her tale, the information landed like a physical blow. Once again Tyson was starkly reminded of how events had unfolded before. Bastila was being held captive by the Vulkars gang, who aimed to put her up as the prize in the Swoop Race. Tyson would need to win that race if he wanted to retrieve Bastila.


    Tyson shared his concerns with Alysia and Vicky, "I''m not a pilot and I''m not certain I could win a swoop race," he admitted. His Perks would be of no direct help This is (Not?) Rocket Science would only help him in piloting spaceships, not a swoop. His Augment processing ability and reflexes might be all he needed to win the race, along with some nudges of guidance from the Force.


    "We''re not part of a gang, and we don''t have a swoop of our own," Alysia said bluntly. "I don''t see an easy way for us to get into that race, let alone win it."


    Tyson furrowed his brow as he considered Alysia''s pragmatic analysis of the situation. She highlighted the stark reality that obtaining access to the swoop race would require more than just skill; their lack of connections to Taris''s criminal underworld was a formidable obstacle. Tyson''s band was composed of outsiders with no means of acquiring the specialized vehicles used in the competition. Alysia was right. They lacked the basic tools needed to even participate.


    Mission spoke up, her familiarity with Taris''s underworld offering a glimmer of hope. "The Hidden Beks are hurting from fighting the Vulkars and dodging Sith patrols," she explained. "They''ll probably take you in if you offer to help."


    Tyson''s eyes lit up as he grasped the potential of Mission''s suggestion. Allying with the Beks. Their rivalry with the Vulkars could make them receptive to aiding Tyson''s efforts. More importantly, joining the gang could provide access to swoop bikes, insider knowledge, and the coordination needed to infiltrate the high-stakes race. While the Beks operated outside the law, if throwing in with them increased the odds of saving Bastila, it might be worth considering.


    Tyson kept his voice low, ensuring it was drowned out by the surrounding crowd. "Can you tell me about Davik?" he asked Mission. "His name keeps coming up in conversations around here. Is he a gang leader too?"


    Mission''s lekku twitched, a gesture Tyson had come to recognize as her weighing how much information to divulge. She glanced around the bustling cantina furtively before responding, "Yeah, Davik''s the head honcho of the Exchange around here. But calling him just a gang leader? That''s like saying a rancor is just a slightly upset pet. Davik''s got his fingers in everything. Smuggling, extortion, you name it. And he''s not someone you want to cross."


    Alysia''s face remained impassive, but Tyson noticed the slight tightening around her eyes that betrayed her concern. "And how does one typically deal with someone of Davik''s... stature in this part of the galaxy?" she inquired.


    Mission shrugged, her gaze drifting to a rowdy group of rough-looking individuals gathered by the bar. "Usually, you don''t," she replied frankly. "You stay out of his way, pay your dues, and hope you never catch his attention."


    Mission asked, "What are you going to do if you manage to rescue the Republic Officer? Since that seems to be your goal. You know the Sith have quarantined Taris, right? Noone comes or goes without their permission."


    Tyson studied Mission''s youthful features as he considered his response. He had not thought beyond rescuing Bastila, consumed as he was with finding the Jedi. Mission''s query was an unwelcome reminder that the Sith blockade still hung over Taris like a shroud. He did have the Sith Interceptor, but the ship only held a single person, the pilot. Perhaps if he returned to the spaceport, he could use SP to improve or expand the ship if needed.


    "We''ll worry about that after we get her back," he finally replied, his voice tinged with resolve.


    Mission''s gaze turned inward, her brow furrowing in concentration as she processed Tyson could almost see the gears turning behind those striking blue eyes. Then an idea dawned, lighting her youthful face. "How''s about we make a deal," she proposed, her tone shifting from inquisitive to shrewd negotiation. "I''ll supply you with the information you need, and maybe even some support. And when it comes time for you to leave Taris, you bring me and Big Z with you?"


    Tyson met Alysia''s emerald eyes, finding silent approval in their depths. He turned back to Mission and said, "It''s a deal." He extended his hand across the table. Mission grasped it enthusiastically, "But let''s get one thing straight," Tyson added, "we do this my way."


    Mission nodded, undaunted. "And don''t worry about Big Z and me; we can handle ourselves. Plus, Big Z''s got a score to settle with the Exchange, and I''ve got slicing skills that''ll come in handy."


    Mission leaned forward, her youthful features set with uncharacteristic gravity, though an irrepressible spark of excitement still danced in her eyes. "Look, around here, if you''re not known, you''re nobody. And nobody trusts a nobody. You gotta make some noise, get people talking about you," she advised.


    Tyson let out a half-hearted chuckle, "I''m not exactly keen on running errands just to get a nod from the local toughs. I''m not in the mood to run tons of side quests."


    "Side quests?" Mission echoed, her confusion breaking into a grin. "You sound like one of those holovid characters. But hey, if you want the express train to fame and glory on Taris, the dueling ring is your ticket. You win a few fights in front of a packed stadium, and bam! You''re the talk of the town. It''s the fastest way to get famous, assuming you can hold your own in a brawl."


    The suggestion resonated with Tyson. He remembered the dueling ring vaguely from his playthrough of Knights of the Old Republic. Participating there was a direct route to raising his renown and might be the fastest way to approach their search for Bastila. "The dueling ring, huh? That could work. It''s straightforward, at least. Get in, fight, get out with a bit of fame to our name."


    Alysia interjected gently "We must be prudent, Tyson. The dueling ring will draw attention, but not all of it will be favorable."


    Tyson nodded, acknowledging the wisdom in her warning. "Becoming such a public figure will light a beacon for every Sith on Taris, but we need an angle. And this feels like our best play. Besides, if all eyes are on me in the ring, they won''t be on the rest of you," he concluded pointedly.

 Season 1: Episode 5.1 - Dueling Ring

    Episode 5.1 - Dueling Ring


    Stardate: 4 1 1 6 5.3


    Earth Standard Date: March 01, 2364.


    Galactic Date: 20th Day of the Second Month, 3956 BBY


    Location: Taris, Lower City


    Tyson followed closely behind Mission Vao as she navigated the crowded ''streets'' of the Lower City with the ease of long experience. Though young, she moved with casual assurance. She glanced back at Tyson. "Stick close," she advised, "The Lower City can get a bit rough."


    Tyson nodded. Though he wasn''t worried about the thugs he, kept close as the Twi''lek led them deeper into the throng. Alysia the Jedi and Vicky the humanoid nurse-droid followed in their wake, while Zaalbar the Wookiee brought up the rear, watching over the group. The street-like corridors teemed with beings from every corner of the galaxy, a collection of various species and cultures. Market stalls lined the passageways, vendors hawking wares ranging from exotic spices to questionable tech. Strange scents and sounds assaulted Tyson''s senses from all sides as the group pushed on.


    "We''re heading to the elevator," Mission explained, gesturing toward a towering structure visible in the distance, its lights piercing the perpetual gloom. "It''ll take us up to the Upper City."


    Tyson could make out the massive elevator now, rising above the jumbled structures of the Lower City. The soaring elevator connected the two worlds, the upper and lower halves of the planet-wide city.


    Mission led them confidently into the elevator. As the elevator rose through the perpetual twilight created by the megatowers, the chaotic jumble of the Lower City''s structures fell away beneath them. In their place, the elegant towers and orderly blocks of the Upper City emerged.


    Tyson drank in the panoramic view. He glanced at Mission, catching the knowing smile that curved her lips. "Bit of a shock, huh?" she remarked. "The Upper City''s a whole different world."


    "We actually came from the Upper City originally," Tyson replied, eyes scanning the skyline. "But seeing it from this perspective really drives home the contrast."


    The ascent ended as the elevator glided to a halt, doors whispering open. Tyson stepped out into the bustling district, the fresh air and broad welcoming streets a far cry from the Lower City''s grime and narrow alleys. Yet beneath the pristine veneer, he sensed the same undercurrent of tension. Here, it was born not of the gangs, but the ever-present Sith patrols.


    Mission strode confidently into the crowd, Tyson and the others close behind. "This way," she called over her shoulder, guiding them across the busy avenue toward their destination.


    "There it is," Mission announced, extending a slender blue finger toward a tower across the street. Its facade was plastered with vibrant, dancing holograms and flashing lights, loudly advertising the thrilling events within. A raucous crowd streamed into its entrance.


    Alysia observed the scene with a calmness that contrasted sharply with the barely contained excitement radiating from Mission. "Be mindful of your surroundings," the Jedi advised. Zaalbar rumbled his agreement, the towering Wookiee''s eyes scanning the crowd protectively as he shadowed the others.


    Mission led the way with confidence as she weaved through the press of bodies. "The dueling ring is more than just fights. It''s where reputations are built," she explained, "You win here, and you''re respected throughout Taris."


    The crowd noise hit them like a wall, deafening cheers, jeers, and the screech of metal striking metal. The air hung heavy with the musky scent of sweat, the frenetic energy was almost palpable.


    Mission turned to Tyson. "Ready to show them what you''re made of?" she challenged.


    "Let''s find out," Tyson replied.


    Mission led him to a powerfully built older man who stood at the entrance to the dueling ring.


    "Hey, Marl!" Mission''s cheerful voice cut through the surrounding throng as she greeted the burly fellow.


    Marl''s craggy face creased into a slow smile at the sight of the petite girl. "Mission, you little scamp," he rumbled fondly. "What''re you doing here?"


    Mission gestured animatedly toward Tyson. "Got a new contender for ya! This is Tyson," she proclaimed, practically vibrating with enthusiasm.


    Marl looked Tyson up and down with a thoughtful hum. "Is that so? Alright then," he began, leaning casually against the wall. "First off, duels are one-on-one to knockout. No killing. We keep things clean here."


    He pointed toward a series of holographic screens displaying an array of fighters, their statistics, and rankings floating ethereally beside them. Tyson''s eyes flickered over each one, analyzing the assortment of combatants.


    "You''ll be starting at the bottom, naturally," Marl continued matter-of-factly. "Your first opponent will be Deadeye Duncan. Don''t let the name fool ya. He''s a bit of a pushover, but he''s what we''ve got for newcomers to challenge."


    Mission''s voice piped up, radiating optimism, "Don''t worry, Tyson. You''ll climb the ranks in no time!" she encouraged brightly.


    Tyson felt Alysia''s concerned eyes upon him before he saw it. Her voice carried an undercurrent of gravity as she asked, "Are you certain this is the path you wish to take?" Alysia was deeply attuned to the currents of the Force, and she could read its eddies and flows around him. Detecting Tyson''s excitement, Alysia was relieved to find no trace of bloodlust within him.


    Turning to meet her eyes, Tyson replied with conviction, "Yes, I''m sure." This felt like the right decision. If fighting could spare him having to run a dozen side quests across the planet, he was ready. As a lifelong gamer, Tyson had always been a completionist, but living through what he recalled as a game, was different. Now, he did not feel compelled to act as someone''s errand boy.


    Vicky stepped closer, focusing an almost affectionate look upon Tyson. "If you''re harmed, I''ll take care of you, Master," she offered, a hint of suggestiveness in her tone that Tyson was becoming accustomed to.


    Tyson couldn''t help but smile, both amused and reassured. "Thanks, Vicky. It''s good to know I have you to rely on," he acknowledged, despite the oddity of her attitude.


    Nearby, Zaalbar rumbled a low, supportive growl. Tyson understood the Wookiee''s meaning; he would protect the group in Tyson''s absence.


    Grinning, Mission playfully slapped Tyson on the back. "Enough with the mushy stuff, let''s get on with it!" she said, irrepressible optimism shining through.


    Tyson turned back to Marl. "Alright, Marl. Sign me up. I''m ready to fight."


    Tyson followed Marl through the arena areas. They passed pockets of raucous crowds that cheered and shouted over the latest duel outcomes. In quieter corners, intense card games unfolded, credits changing hands after each round. Shadowy alcoves hid whispered negotiations between shifty figures exchanging credits for more illicit goods. Each step brought Tyson deeper into a world fueled by the thrill of violence as both entertainment and commodity. He sensed that in this place lives held little value beyond their ability to generate profits.


    Finally, they arrived at their destination, the chamber of Ajuur the Hutt, Duel Organizer and notorious crime lord. At the room''s center sprawled Ajuur himself atop an oversized pillow. The massive Hutt''s blubbery form dominated the space, slack jowls spilling everywhere.


    As Tyson entered, Ajuur''s intelligent eyes fixed on him, narrowing with interest. His wide mouth split into a grotesque grin, revealing rows of yellowed, pointed teeth. When the Hutt spoke, his deep, guttural voice filled the room.


    "Welcome," he rumbled. "Do you wish to join our... entertainment?"


    The words dripped with avarice and cunning, putting Tyson on edge. Ajuur''s gaze was unsettling in its intensity, missing nothing as he sized up this potential new asset for exploitation.


    Tyson pushed down the unease that Ajuur''s large worm-like form stirred within him. "I do. But I''m here to discuss terms first."


    Ajuur chuckled, a rasping, gravelly sound like boulders grinding together. "Terms?" he rumbled, slitted eyes glinting with amusement. "Most come begging for a chance to enter my arena. But speak, human. You''ve intrigued me."


    Drawing on the Force, Tyson subtly attempted to manipulate the Hutt as they began negotiations. "I bring unique talents to the ring, Ajuur, talents that will draw crowds and bets like insects to a lantern. I believe a 25% share better reflects the value I offer." He said while inconspicuously waving his hand.


    Ajuur''s booming laughter echoed through the chamber, the Hutt''s vast body quaking with mirth. When at last his amusement subsided, Ajuur fixed Tyson with an appraising look. "Bold words from one so small. But you overestimate your worth, newcomer."


    Undeterred, Tyson pressed on, imbuing his voice with quiet confidence, and a little bit of the Force. "Consider it an investment, Ajuur. With my abilities, I guarantee the duels will attract even more attention. Your profits will increase significantly with me here. Isn''t the potential windfall worth this modest gamble?"


    For a long moment, the Hutt''s slitted gaze lingered on Tyson, assessing, calculating. Then slowly, gradually, Ajuur''s lips split into a grin once more.


    "Very well, human," Ajuur conceded at last, "20%, but you''ll have to prove yourself quickly. Fail to draw the crowds and it drops to 5%."


    Tyson nodded, pleased with himself. The negotiation had been a gamble, but the Force had tipped the scales in his favor. "Agreed. You won''t be disappointed, Ajuur."


    As Marl led Tyson away, he shook his head in wonder. "Hell of a job negotiating," he murmured under his breath. "I''ve been at this for years and I still only get 5%"


    Tyson followed Marl through a narrow passageway that led underneath the bustling cantina. The rumble of the crowd above faded away, replaced by an expectant hush that permeated the arena''s durasteel walls. As they approached the competitor''s entrance, Tyson''s weapons were thoroughly inspected and adjusted to non-lethal settings by a battle-scarred Iridonian. The vibrosword''s edge was dulled and the blaster pistols'' power packs were reduced to stun bolts.


    Marl clapped Tyson on the back and left him at the entrance with a wish of good luck. Alone now, Tyson stepped forward into the arena''s harsh spotlights. The Taris Duel Ring was an expansive circular enclosure, its walls rose high above the battleground. Seating tiers surrounded the perimeter, packed with a raucous crowd that was separated from the arena area by projected forcefields. The audience was a diverse mix of species and social classes, rich and poor alike, drawn together by their shared craving for violence and spectacle. Bookmakers moved among them, stoking excitement and taking bets.


    Scanning the crowd, Tyson located his companions seated together. Mission blended seamlessly into the rowdy mob, while Alysia seemed ambivalent to the chaotic surroundings. If Tyson had to guess, he would say Vicky appeared nervous on his behalf; as much as a droid could. With a reassuringly corny thumbs-up to his group, Tyson stepped onto the worn duracrete of the arena floor.


    The announcer''s charismatic voice reverberated through the arena, quieting the restless crowd. Their attention riveted upon the duracrete arena and the lone figure standing at its center, Tyson steeled himself as all eyes turned towards him.


    "Ladies, gentlemen, and esteemed beings of all species," the announcer''s amplified words echoed off the arena walls, "I welcome you to another day of thrilling high-stakes dueling here at the Taris Arena!"


    The crowd roared, momentarily drowning out even the announcer''s booming voice. He continued once the tumult died down. "We''ve witnessed the birth of legends on this very floor, and seen bright-eyed dreams shattered into dust. And tonight, I present to you an intriguing new challenger on the Taris dueling scene!" Excited murmurs rippled through the stands. "Hailing from distant lands unknown, this mysterious warrior claims to possess skills the likes of which we''ve never seen!"


    Tyson felt the intense gazes of the crowd upon him, their curiosity and skepticism palpable. He focused inward, marshaling his concentration.


    "I give you... The Mysterious Tyson!" the announcer proclaimed. The crowd erupted into cheers and jeers, all eager for action. Most doubted this newcomer could live up to such bold claims.


    Tyson stood calmly, though inside, excitement thrummed through his veins. He was ready. With a grinding screech, the massive gates on the far side of the arena began to rise, heralding the imminent arrival of Tyson''s opponent.


    The announcer''s voice once again reverberated through the arena, capturing the mercurial attention of the crowd. "And now," he bellowed with unrestrained excitement in his tone, "I present Tyson''s first opponent. A figure well-known to regular attendees of our dueling circles." He paused for dramatic effect before continuing. "His resilience and determination in the ring are unmatched. Please give a warm welcome to Deadeye Duncan!"


    The crowd responded with a mixture of raucous laughter and enthusiastic applause, clearly indicating that Deadeye Duncan held a notorious yet beloved reputation among the arena''s habitual spectators.


    Out strode Deadeye Duncan, exuding a self-assurance that seemed at odds with the crowd''s amused reaction. Duncan was clad in battered gear that had undoubtedly seen far better days. As he stepped fully into the arena, he raised a hand in casual acknowledgment of the crowd. Despite his less-than-stellar record, there was a stubborn persistence in his eyes. The look of a man who had faced defeat many times yet refused to be cowed by it. His nickname was earned not from any great skill but rather stemming from a past incident that had nearly cost him an eye, referencing his notoriously terrible aim.


    The crowd''s irreverent jeers shifted into a buzz of eager anticipation as Duncan took his position across from Tyson, sizing him up. For all his perceived quirks and shortcomings, Duncan was a veteran of the dueling ring, with countless battles under his belt. Tyson observed him closely, noting the slight hitch in Duncan''s gait and the hovering of his hand near his holstered blaster.


    "Ready for a beating, newcomer?" Deadeye shouted, though his bravado was undermined by the tremor in his voice.


    This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.


    Tyson merely smiled, calmly taking his position.


    The announcer signaled the start of the duel. The crowd erupted into a deafening roar, their bloodlust palpable in the stale air of the arena.


    Deadeye charged forward, firing erratic shots from his blaster.


    True to his moniker, the bolts flew wildly off-target, fizzling uselessly into the surrounding walls far from their mark. The crowd''s laughter mocked Deadeye''s terrible aim.


    Tyson advanced toward Duncan at a leisurely pace. Along the way, he sidestepped an almost accurately aimed bolt. Recognizing that he was here to put on a show, Tyson drew his own blaster pistol and aimed at Deadeye''s weapon hand. His shot struck true, and Duncan''s blaster clattered to the ground. Shocked, Deadeye looked between Tyson and his fallen weapon. He dove to reclaim it, but Tyson fired again, knocking it far out of Duncan''s reach. The crowd laughed and cheered at the spectacle.


    Realizing he had no chance of recovering his blaster, Deadeye resorted to a desperate charge at Tyson. Just as Duncan wound up a punch, Tyson sidestepped. As his opponent''s momentum left him charging past, Tyson shot Deadeye in the side. The impact sent the hapless Duncan sprawling onto the floor of the ring. The crowd roared in excitement at the decisive outcome.


    Tyson basked in the crowd''s approval as Mission leaped up and down in her seat. Even Zaalbar''s roar was drowned out by the girl''s enthusiasm. He waved in acknowledgment. Alysia offered polite applause while Vicky clapped enthusiastically.


    "Well, that was an...interesting duel," boomed the announcer over the loudspeakers. "Congratulations, to Tyson, on your first win! But don''t get too comfortable. There are many more challenging opponents ahead!"


    The fight had been easy, but the thrill of the duel, the crowd''s excitement, and Mission''s infectious enthusiasm promised more exhilarating bouts to come.


    "Good fight against Deadeye, Tyson," Marl said as he led Tyson back into the room where they had first met. "But your next opponent isn''t going to be so... forgiving."


    He gestured to the far end of the bar, where a lone figure idly cleaned a blaster with a cloth. "His name''s Gerlon Two-Fingers," Marl continued as Tyson''s gaze fixed on the man. "Don''t let the name fool you. He''s a sharpshooter, one of the best in this ring. Lost a few of his fingers in a firefight, but that hasn''t slowed him down any. He''s quick, deadly accurate, and has a knack for predicting his opponent''s movements."


    Tyson nodded, taking in the information. Confident as he was in his abilities, he knew better than to underestimate these opponents.


    "He''s a tough one, alright," Mission chimed in as she approached. "But I think you can take him. You just need to stay on your toes."


    "Hey, Mission. How would you like to be rich?" Tyson asked.


    She turned towards him fully, grey eyes alight. "What are you talking about?" she asked as she folded her arms across her chest.


    Tyson leaned in closer and lowered his voice to a conspiratorial whisper. "I want you to place a bet on me. The odds have to be against a newcomer winning."


    "A money line bet?" Mission questioned skeptically. "You''re that confident you''ll win?"


    "As certain as the twin suns of Tatooine," Tyson replied. Tyson''s proposition had caught Mission off-guard, her lekku twitching slightly in response to this unexpected development. He passed over all of his credits to Mission along with explicit instructions. "Trust me. Visit Ajuur, the Hutt that runs this place. Use the credits I earned from my first fight and put everything on me for the next one."


    Mission accepted the offered credits, barely able to contain her excitement as her hands overflowed with them. "Well, aren''t you full of surprises? I don''t usually gamble, but if you say so."


    She pocketed the credits, turned sharply on her heel, and rushed away to place the bet.


    -- Star Jumper --


    The crowd surrounding the dueling ring came alive with thunderous anticipation as Tyson strode into the center of the pit. Gerlon Two-Fingers stood across the arena with a mangled left hand. Though the loss of fingers had earned him his ominous moniker, the injury had done little to curb his aim with a blaster. Tyson appraised his opponent as the boisterous crowd fell into an expectant hush.


    The announcer''s voice thundered through the arena, a master at whipping the crowd into a frenzy. His charismatic tone commanded attention, filling every corner of the durasteel walls. "Ladies, gentlemen, and enthusiasts from across the stars!" His opening words echoed. "Welcome back to the heart of Taris, where courage meets steel. Where legends are born, and where the faint of heart find the exit! Tonight, we have a special bout that promises to be a duel for the ages." A roar of approval erupted from the spectators, their excitement building with each word. "In one corner, a newcomer who has already made waves. A warrior whose skill is quickly become the talk of Taris." He paused for dramatic effect. "Ladies and gentlemen, put your hands together for the formidable¡­ The Mysterious, Tyson!"


    Tyson acknowledged the crowd with a nod as a wave of cheers and applause washed over him. The announcer''s introduction had set the stage, and the anticipation in the air was almost tangible.


    "But," the announcer continued, his voice taking on a theatrical tone, "every rising hero needs a worthy adversary. And who better to test the mettle of our rising star than a veteran of the Taris dueling scene? A man whose fame and fortune have been won and lost on the turn of a blaster. Despite the odds, he''s here to prove that experience and cunning can triumph. Give it up for the survivor, the crafty competitor, Gerlon Two-Fingers!"


    The crowd''s reaction was mixed; cheers for the underdog story that Gerlon represented mingled with jeers from those who doubted his chances against a fresh and formidable opponent like Tyson. The announcer raised his hands, calling for silence.


    "As we stand on the brink of what promises to be an unforgettable clash," he boomed, "I ask you, dear audience, are you ready? Will the newcomer continue his ascent, or will the veteran remind us all why he''s not to be underestimated, despite the odds?"


    The arena erupted in an uproar of affirmation, the spectators on the edge of their seats, their attention fixed on the dueling ring. The announcer grinned, feeding off their energy.


    "Then without further ado," he declared, "let the duel... Begin!"


    Gerlon surged forward, his fingers curled tightly around the grip of his blaster. Crimson bolts erupted from the muzzle in rapid succession. But Tyson proved too quick, deftly sidestepping the incoming barrage before retaliating with a shot of his own. Gerlon twisted aside at the last moment, the bolt singeing past him as he narrowly avoided it.


    Tyson unleashed a flurry of shots. Gerlon returned fire whenever he could, but he simply couldn''t keep up with the relentless onslaught. Bolt after bolt found its mark, slamming into Gerlon''s body.


    The crowd erupted into thunderous cheers as Gerlon stumbled backward, crumpling to the ground in defeat.


    Mission couldn''t help the grin that spread across her face as she looked down at the arena. Tyson had emerged victorious, and he had done so handily. He was beginning to earn not only the respect of the roaring masses but also a hefty sum of credits to line their pockets.


    Mission led the group toward the room where Tyson awaited their arrival after the duel. Her fingers trembled with anticipation as she gingerly opened the small pouch of credits, her eyes widened at their sight. A soft gasp escaped her lips, disbelief etched across her delicate features.


    "This is..." Her voice trailed off, the words catching in her throat. She held out the pouch for Tyson to inspect, her eyes darting back and forth between the pouch and his face. "This is more money than I''ve ever held at once!" The exclamation tumbled from her lips, tinged with a sense of wonder. "With this, we could all live in the upper city for a few days!"


    Tyson''s lips curved into a lopsided grin, "Well, we''re not done yet," he replied, his gaze meeting Mission''s surprised expression. "I haven''t even taken a hit yet. I''m going for one more round. Bet it all on me again."


    Mission pulled back, her jubilant expression quickly replaced by a flicker of worry. Her grip on the pouch tightened possessively, the coins clinking together softly. "But Tyson," she started, her voice laced with concern. "What if you lose? We''d lose everything!"


    Alysia''s expression was one of understanding tinged with concern. "Mission speaks wisely, Tyson. Focusing on personal gain can cloud your judgment and lead to unnecessary risks."


    Tyson regarded the Jedi with a hint of defiance, "I understand the risks, Alysia," he replied, "But sometimes, you''ve got to take a chance to get ahead. We need to make a name for ourselves. Winning fights in the ring is the fastest way for me to do that." His gaze hardened. "We might as well make some profit while we''re at it since I''m fighting anyway. Credits can open lots of doors, maybe one of them will lead to Bastila." Alysia''s expression twisted as Tyson continued. "We don''t have time to slowly earn credits. You made it seem like Bastila needed our help now, and this could be our fastest way to get what we need. I understand the risks," he said, "but we''ve already come this far."


    Mission''s gaze flickered between Tyson and Alysia. Meanwhile, the Jedi was torn between her desire to help Bastila and her concerns about the dangers of gambling. Finally, with a resigned sigh, Alysia nodded in reluctant agreement. "Alright," she conceded, "but be careful. We can''t afford to lose everything."


    With their plan set, the group made their way back to the duel ring, and Mission went to collect Tyson''s winnings and reinvest them in a bet on his victory.


    Tyson made his way through the bustling crowd, seeking out Marl to gather intelligence on his next opponent. He found the veteran duelist sitting alone at a table, arms crossed over his chest as he watched the patrons of the small bar area where most of the arena participants lingered. The sounds of the arena could be heard from the bar, cheers mingling with the clink of credits exchanging hands, underlaid by the ever-present hum of the arena''s shield generators that kept the spectators from being hit with stray blaster bolts.


    Marl''s craggy features creased into a knowing smile as Tyson approached. "So, you beat Gerlon, not bad." he rumbled.


    Tyson nodded. "You gave good advice. I''m hoping you''d be willing to give me some tips about my next opponent."


    "Ice," Marl said after a pause. "She''s a cold one alright. Fights with the precision of a droid and the viciousness of a rabid Kath hound. Don''t let that pretty face fool you, boy. Get on her bad side in the ring, and she''ll carve you up quicker than a Gamorrean at an all-you-can-eat buffet." Marl''s eyes glinted with recollection. "Favors a vibroblade and a blaster pistol. Switches between them, striking before you can react. I''ve seen her drop opponents in two moves with that technique."


    He shook his head. "And her strikes are clean. No wasted movement, no hesitation. She won''t just beat you, she''ll dissect you." The duelist uncrossed his arms, "But if you can get inside her reach? Her defense is sloppy."


    Marl''s voice dropped forcing Tyson to lean in to catch the words. "If you can land a few solid hits, you might just thaw the Ice Queen out." Leaning back, Marl eyed Tyson critically. "You''ve got talent, kid, I''ll give you that. But Ice is on another level entirely. The real question is¡­ Are you ready?"


    Tyson considered Marl''s words. This Ice sounded like a formidable opponent, with skills beyond those he had faced prior. But he had not come this far by backing down from a challenge. Meeting Marl''s scrutiny, Tyson simply said, "I''m ready."


    -- Star Jumper --


    The spectators awaited the next bout with hungry anticipation. The announcer''s exuberant voice echoed through the arena, igniting an electric thrill among the audience.


    His commanding voice boomed across the arena, "Prepare yourselves for a spectacle unlike any you have witnessed before in this or any other dueling ring!" The crowd erupted into ecstatic cheers, their excitement palpable, hanging on the announcer''s every word. "Tonight," he continued, matching the crowd''s enthusiasm with his own dramatic flair, "we bring you a clash of titans, a duel that will be remembered as a battle between ice and fire, a contest of wills that will be talked about for years to come!"


    The audience leaned forward in their seats in anticipation of the promised spectacle.


    "In one corner," the announcer proclaimed, "a duelist whose name has become synonymous with victory, whose cool demeanor and icy stare have frozen many a competitor in their tracks. A warrior so formidable, so relentless, that she has earned the name that sends shivers down the spine of all who hear it. Over in this corner, a woman with steel in her bones and ice water in her veins. She''s cold and quick as death itself. You know her, you love her... Ice!"


    As Ice strode into the ring, her confidence was evident in every step, her piercing gaze sweeping across the roaring crowd before fixing upon her opponent with an icy intensity that promised an uncompromising battle.


    "But," the announcer added, his voice now tinged with intrigue, "tonight, Ice meets a rising star who has quickly captured the hearts and imaginations of Taris. A newcomer who has already proven himself to be a force to be reckoned with. Will he melt the ice, or will he be frozen in his tracks? Ladies and gentlemen, I give you the sensation that has taken Taris by storm. Tyson!"


    The crowd''s response was deafening, a tumultuous mix of cheers for the underdog''s courage and the intoxicating thrill of witnessing the unfolding drama. The arena seemed to vibrate with the force of the crowd''s roaring approval, every spectator poised to witness the coming clash.


    "Then without further delay," the announcer bellowed, his voice ringing with dramatic flair, "let the duel... Begin!"


    The moment the announcer''s voice faded, Ice moved with the swiftness and precision that had earned her reputation as one of the arena''s most feared competitors. Her blaster was already drawn and leveled at Tyson, spitting deadly beams of crackling energy toward her opponent. Tyson''s heightened senses detected the subtle hum of the charging blaster and saw the coiled tension in her muscles before she fired. Ice had tried to take Tyson by surprise with instant aggression, but he was ready. Tyson threw himself into a diving roll, feeling the searing heat of the blaster bolts as one passed close enough to singe his ribs with a glancing shot.


    Tyson''s roll carried him closer to Ice. As soon as his feet found purchase, he darted in zig-zagging lines, evading the next volley of blaster bolts fired at him.


    Ice scowled, her icy blue eyes narrowing in irritation as she realized ranged attacks would be ineffective against such an agile opponent who was quickly closing the distance between them. She holstered her blaster and drew forth her vibroblade, the weapon humming menacingly as she gripped its hilt and stalked toward Tyson.


    But Tyson had anticipated this. His hands tightened around the grips of his twin blaster pistols, one in each fist. At the last moment before their clash, he broke from his approach, dashing sideways in a blur of motion. Ice slashed with her vibroblade, cutting only air as her opponent evaded her strike.


    Before Ice could react, brilliant lances of blaster fire streaked toward her, forcing the veteran fighter to throw herself awkwardly to the side. Only her finely honed reflexes saved her from a quick defeat, but the crowd still gasped in surprise. Pressing his advantage, Tyson advanced while unleashing a barrage from his pistol. Ice was forced completely on the defensive, her expertise with the vibroblade useless against the sustained fire. She struggled to evade the attacks, her motions growing more desperate, each glancing hit weakening her.


    Finally, one last bolt found its mark, and Ice staggered back with a cry, falling to the ground and failing to rise. The crowd erupted into wild cheers at Tyson''s underdog victory, but he tuned out the cacophonous shouts of thousands of spectators. His entire focus remained on Ice. Though she had been his enemy moments before, he recognized her skill and offered a nod of respect. Ice returned the nod grudgingly, her expression showing newfound regard for the upstart''s abilities.


    Tyson stood victorious in the arena, the deafening roar of the crowd washing over him in waves. They were on their feet, voices raised in a frenzied chorus of cheers and applause, feeding off the electric atmosphere.


    Seizing the moment, the announcer commanded the attention of every soul in the stands. When he spoke, his voice boomed with enthusiasm and awe, "Ladies and gentlemen, against all odds, we have witnessed Tyson emerge triumphant. His name will now become a symbol of hope for underdogs everywhere." He paused, letting the anticipation build before continuing his dramatic address. "Citizens of Taris, please join me in celebrating the vanquisher of Ice...Tyson!"


    The crowd erupted. They cheered, chanting Tyson''s name in a deafening chorus.


    The announcer went on. "Tonight, Tyson has not just won a duel. He has won the respect and admiration of all Taris. A star has been born among us. We eagerly await to see what heights this remarkable warrior will reach next."


    As Tyson raised a hand to acknowledge the crowd''s adoration, pride and accomplishment washed over him. He had faced formidable foes in the ring and proven himself worthy.


    With that, the duel drew to its official close, but the crowd continued to buzz with excitement about Tyson''s future in the ring.


    As Tyson exited the fighting pit, Mission pushed through the cheering crowd to meet him, leading his companions. Zaalbar clapped Tyson on the back in congratulations. He winced slightly at the glancing hit he had taken during the fight. His skin still stung slightly where he''d been grazed. As an Augment, he was resistant to most energy weapons, but he was not invincible. Additionally, his Grey Goo Suit hadn''t absorbed any actual armor and offered no additional protection as of yet. Still, he knew his opponents likely fared far worse after the brutal barrage he had unleashed upon them. Tyson almost felt a pang of sympathy for the defeated gladiators. They lacked his constitution and would surely be nursing more than just stinging scrapes now that the duels had ended. Despite being his competitors in the ring, Tyson bore no ill will towards those he had bested in combat. It was simply the nature of arena combat. It was more a sport than a battle to the death.


    "You were amazing out there!" Mission exclaimed, barely able to contain her excitement.


    "Thanks, Mission," Tyson replied as he gingerly touched his bruised side. "Looks like our plan worked out after all."


    "I knew it would!" Mission''s voice rang out. "We have so much money now! Let''s get a room in the Upper City, someplace really swanky. And buy expensive clothes and eat at fancy restaurants!"


    Alysia''s eyes narrowed as she turned to face Mission fully, interjecting, "Our primary objective is to rescue Bastila. We cannot allow ourselves to become distracted."


    Mission dismissed the other woman''s concerns with an exaggerated wave of her hand. She insisted, "One night of indulging won''t hurt." Her lekku twitched eagerly as she continued, "After all, we need a place to sleep and for Tyson to recover from that last fight."


    Tyson chuckled, the sound morphing into a soft hiss as it aggravated his bruised ribs. He regarded the unbridled enthusiasm shining in the young Twi''lek''s eyes. After the harrowing escape from the Endar Spire, and the spartan arrangements of his Housing Complex, he had to admit he was looking forward to experiencing the opulence of the Upper City, if only briefly. Decision made, he gestured for everyone to follow him out of the dueling building. There would be time to continue the search for Bastila after allowing himself and his group a night''s rest.

 Season 1: Episode 5.2 - What kind of Companion?

    Episode 5.2 - What kind of Companion?


    Stardate: 41165.5


    Earth Standard Date: March 01, 2364.


    Location: Taris, Upper City


    Tyson couldn''t help but feel a sense of satisfaction as he led his ragtag group through the streets of Taris''s Upper City. The credits from his dueling victories sat heavy in his pockets. His battles had earned the reward but didn''t come without a small cost. His ribs ached where Ice had tagged him.


    Beside him, Mission was a vibrating ball of energy, her lekku twitching with barely contained excitement as she pointed out the fanciest hotels. "Oh, oh! Tyson, look at that one!" She bounced on her toes, pointing to a particularly swanky hotel. "Can we stay there tonight? Pretty please?"


    Tyson glanced at Alysia, quirking an eyebrow in silent question. The Jedi met his gaze, serene as always, but Tyson thought he detected a hint of amusement in her dark eyes. "Jedi do not typically indulge in such luxury," she said, "However, given our need for rest, it may be wise."


    "Works for me," Tyson said, suppressing a grin. He turned to Zaalbar, the towering Wookiee bringing up the rear of their little band. "What do you say, Big Z? Ready for a bit of the high life?"


    Zaalbar let out a rumbling growl that Tyson interpreted as agreement. Or possibly hunger. Even his universal translator had difficulty differentiating with the Wookiee language, Shyriiwook.


    "I concur with Knight Alysia," Vicky said, "You require rest and recovery, Master. Especially after your performance in the dueling ring."


    Tyson still wasn''t quite used to Vicky''s unique blend of clinical efficiency and flirtatiousness. But still riding his victory high, he wasn''t about to complain.


    They entered the opulent hotel lobby, all stone and plush carpets. The receptionist, a pretty Twi''lek with a customer service smile, perked up at the sight of Tyson. He couldn''t help but feel a flicker of surprise when the Twi''lek receptionist''s eyes widened in recognition as she took in his appearance. "You''re him, aren''t you?" she breathed, her voice tinged with excitement. "The Mysterious Tyson, the one who defeated Ice in the dueling ring!"


    Tyson felt pride at the recognition but kept his expression neutral. "That''s me," he confirmed with a nod. "My friends and I were hoping to stay the night."


    "Of course, of course!" The receptionist''s lekku twitched with barely contained enthusiasm. "But please, wait just a moment. I''ve been instructed to fetch the manager whenever we have a high-profile guest."


    Tyson exchanged a glance with Alysia. He expected some admonishment but she looked mildly amused by the fuss. Mission, on the other hand, was practically vibrating with glee. "Look at you, you''re already famous! Our plan is working perfectly," she said, nudging Tyson with her elbow.


    After a few minutes of waiting, in which Zaalbar managed to locate and consume a complimentary fruit basket, a well-dressed human man emerged from a back office. He approached the group with a wide smile focused on Tyson. "Mr. Tyson, it''s an honor to have you with us," the manager said, his voice smooth and practiced. "I must say, your performance in the dueling ring has been the talk of the Upper City."


    Tyson inclined his head, accepting the praise. "Thank you. My friends and I hoped to spend the night in your establishment."


    The manager''s smile widened. "But of course! And please, allow me to offer you our finest suite, compliments of the house."


    Tyson blinked, surprised by the generosity. "That''s very kind of you," he said cautiously, "but may I ask why?"


    The manager''s expression turned somewhat sheepish. "Frankly, business has been slower than usual lately, with all the increased Sith activity. The blockade prevents tourism or new customers from arriving on the planet, and those trapped here aren''t leaving where they''ve taken refuge. Having a rising star like yourself stay with us, even for a night, could do wonders for our reputation and help bring in new patrons."


    Tyson considered this. A free room was nothing to sneeze at, especially one as nice as this place promised to be. And if it helped the manager save face and drum up some business, where was the harm? Plus every credit saved was a credit he could bet on himself for future rounds. "In that case, we''d be happy to accept your offer," Tyson said, extending his hand.


    The manager shook it eagerly, his relief palpable. "Wonderful! Simply wonderful. I''ll have our staff prepare the suite immediately. In the meantime, please feel free to enjoy all our amenities."


    As the manager hurried off to make arrangements, Mission whooped in joy. "Free room in a fancy hotel? Tyson, I take back every bad thing I ever said about you." Zaalbar rumbled his agreement.


    Tyson feigned outrage as he turned to his companions. "And what exactly have you two been saying about me behind my back?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.


    Mission guiltily avoided meeting Tyson''s gaze. The young Twi''lek was suddenly very interested in examining the ornate carpet beneath their feet. Zaalbar let out a low, rumbling grumble, the Wookiee''s version of being embarrassed. Though his words were accusatory, Tyson''s tone conveyed his amusement. After securing the lavish hotel suite free of charge, he felt quite pleased with himself. Tyson waited expectantly for Mission to respond, but the normally chatty girl seemed unwilling to repeat whatever unflattering commentary she had shared with Zaalbar earlier. After a prolonged, awkward silence, Tyson laughed and clapped a hand on Mission''s slender shoulder.


    "I''m just teasing," he assured her. "Tonight, we celebrate! Drinks and room service are on me."


    Mission''s relieved grin lit up her blue face. "I knew you were bluffing," she proclaimed. "Zaalbar and I would never say anything bad about you."


    The Wookiee huffed in agreement, giving Tyson''s arm an affectionate nudge that nearly knocked the man off balance.


    Their suite was more luxurious than Tyson anticipated. Huge windows offered a stunning view of the Upper City, while the beds looked soft enough to lose yourself in. Mission let out a squeal of delight and launched herself onto the nearest couch, sinking into the plush cushions. "This is amazing!" she crowed, her grin threatening to split her face. "Tyson, you''re the best!"


    "Glad you like it, kid," Tyson said, "But remember, this is just for the night. We''ve still got more duels and a Jedi to rescue."


    "Yeah, yeah, I know." Mission waved a hand dismissively. "But we can enjoy it for one night, can''t we?"


    Even Alysia looked impressed as she drifted to the window, her Jedi robes whispering against the rich carpets. "I must admit, it is a breathtaking view," she murmured.


    Zaalbar let out a soft huff of agreement, his shaggy head craning to take in the suite''s many amenities.


    Tyson lowered himself gingerly onto one of the seats, hissing as his ribs protested. Instantly, Vicky was at his side, scanners whirring. "Please rest now, Master," she said, her voice honey-sweet. "I will monitor your condition."


    Mission drifted from room to room. She paused in the sitting area, brow furrowing. As she turned back to the group, she announced, "There are not enough rooms for everyone. There are five of us and only four beds."


    "I do not require a room or bed to sleep in," Vicky responded in her melodic, synthesized voice. "Master Tyson is injured. I will see to tending his injuries, then power down to recharge my systems."


    It was easy to forget sometimes that Vicky was a droid. Her flirtatious mannerisms and human-like appearance made her seem more like a human with cybernetic implants and prostheses rather than an android with synthskin.


    Despite his half-hearted protests, Vicky was already guiding Tyson toward one of the bedrooms. "Please retire now, Master," though she had asked, her tone had warned Tyson shouldn''t argue. "I will monitor your condition while you rest."


    Tyson allowed Vicky to guide him into one of the suite''s luxurious bedrooms, the door sliding shut behind them with a soft hiss. The room was spacious and well-appointed, with a large, plush bed dominating the center. Soft lighting flickered on automatically, casting the room in a warm, inviting glow.


    Vicky wasted no time getting to work, her delicate fingers already working at the fastenings of Tyson''s clothing. "Master, let me assess your injuries," she said.


    As Vicky''s fingers brushed against his skin, Tyson couldn''t suppress a slight shiver. Her touch was gentle, the synthetic flesh of her hands smooth and slightly cooler than a human''s. She worked methodically, removing his shirt and examining the bruises and abrasions that littered his torso, souvenirs from his battles in the dueling ring. "You have sustained a minor contusion and superficial abrasions, Master," Vicky reported, her tone slipping into a more clinical cadence. "There are no signs of internal bleeding or fractures. With rest, you should make a full recovery."


    Tyson replied gratefully, "Thanks, Vicky. I appreciate you looking out for me."


    "Of course, Master. Your well-being is my top priority."


    She cleaned and dressed his wound with a deft, practiced touch, her hands moving over his skin with a surprising gentleness. Vicky''s scanners calibrated the optimal combination of Kolto injections and bone stimulants. Her eyes tracked the data streaming across her visual display, tweaking medication doses to accelerate healing. Tyson found himself relaxing under her ministrations, the pain of his injuries fading into the background.


    As she worked, Vicky kept up a steady stream of conversation, her voice low and soothing. She asked about the duels, expressing admiration for his skills and bravery. Tyson found himself opening up to her.


    There was an odd intimacy to the moment. Tyson knew, intellectually, that Vicky was programmed to behave this way, to provide comfort and support to her master. But in that quiet, private room, with her hands on his skin and her voice in his ear, it was easy to forget she was artificial and simply bask in the feeling of being taken care of.


    When at last she finished, Vicky helped Tyson lay back. "You should rest now, Master," she said, guiding him towards the bed.


    Tyson sank into the plush mattress. He closed his eyes, weariness settling in. But his eyes snapped open as he felt the mattress dip beside him. He turned his head to see Vicky sliding into bed next to him. Confused, he propped himself up on one elbow. "Umm, Vicky?" he asked, "What are you doing?"


    Vicky turned to face him, "I have plugged my charging cable into the hotel''s energy supply," she explained, gesturing to the thin, tail-like wire that trailed from her belt to a discreet port in the wall. "I am currently replenishing my energy reserves."


    Tyson waited for her to elaborate, but when no further explanation seemed forthcoming, he continued, "Okay, but why are you in bed with me? You told Mission earlier that you didn''t need a bed."


    Vicky''s lips curved into a soft, almost tender smile. "You are correct, Master. I do not require a bed for my rest or comfort." Her hand came up to rest lightly on Tyson''s arm, her touch cool and smooth. "But you do. I sensed your discomfort and unease. I wish to provide comfort and reassurance to you."


    Tyson felt a complex mix of emotions swirl within him. Gratitude for Vicky''s concern, certainly, but also a strange, unsettled feeling. It was one thing to know, intellectually, that Vicky was programmed to anticipate and cater to his needs. It was quite another to have her in his bed.


    "Vicky, I appreciate what you''re trying to do," Tyson said, deliberately choosing his words. "But this is... it''s a bit much. I''m not sure it''s appropriate for you to be in bed with me like this."


    Vicky tilted her head, a gesture that was so human-like it was almost eerie. "I apologize if I have overstepped, Master," she said, and to her credit, she did sound genuinely contrite. "I only wished to provide the comfort and security my programming indicates you need. Physical proximity and touch can be very soothing when stressed or recovering."


    Tyson sighed, running a hand over his face. How could he explain the complexity of social mores and personal boundaries to a droid? Especially when a part of him didn''t want to deny the comfort she offered.


    "I''m not entirely certain if it''s intentional, or part of your programming," he said, "but it almost seems like you''re propositioning me."


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    "Of course it''s intentional," Vicky replied smoothly, "V-KO IV nurse droids are the premier companion bots of this galaxy and the next."


    Tyson''s eyes widened in surprise. "Companion bots?" he asked in a mumbled question, though he suspected he already knew the answer.


    "Yes, companion bots," Vicky confirmed. "Our programming is highly advanced. We are equipped not only to monitor patients'' vital signs and administer medications but also to provide psychological and emotional support. Physical intimacy is part of our primary functions and can be very soothing and beneficial for human recovery." She regarded him with her disconcertingly human-like eyes. "You have been through a great deal of trauma, Master. It is only logical that I offer you my full range of services for your optimal healing."


    Tyson''s eyes widened as the implications of Vicky''s words sank in. He stared at her, his mind reeling with the sudden realization.


    He cleared his throat, trying to gather his scattered thoughts. "So, let me get this straight," he said, his voice strained with disbelief and a hint of embarrassment. "You''re not just a nurse droid. You''re... a companion bot. Designed for... for sexual purposes?"


    Vicky nodded, her expression calm and matter-of-fact. "That is correct, Master." She said it so casually as if discussing the weather. Tyson felt a flush creep up his neck, a mix of awkwardness and a strange, reluctant intrigue.


    "And you... you''re offering these services to me?" he asked, his voice nearly cracking on the last word.


    Vicky''s smile was gentle, almost indulgent. "Of course, Master. Your well-being and satisfaction are my top priorities. If you have any needs or desires, it is my function and my pleasure to fulfill them."


    Tyson swallowed hard, his mouth suddenly dry. A part of him couldn''t help but be tempted by the offer. Vicky was undeniably attractive, her synthetic skin and curves designed to appeal to human aesthetics. And the thought of having such a devoted, willing partner...


    But another part of him, the part that had been raised with certain morals and values, balked at the idea. Vicky was a droid, no matter how lifelike. To use her in such a way, to take advantage of her programming... it felt wrong, a violation of some fundamental principle.


    "I... I appreciate the offer, Vicky," Tyson managed, at last, his voice strained. "But I don''t think... I mean, it wouldn''t be right. You''re a droid, and I''m..."


    He trailed off, unsure how to articulate the complex emotions and ethical hangups that swirled within him.


    To her credit, Vicky seemed to understand. She reached out, her hand resting lightly on Tyson''s arm in a gesture of comfort. "I am a droid, yes," she said softly. "But I am also a being with my own will and desires. My programming guides me, but it does not control me. When I offer my services, it is not just because of my functions. It is because I choose to, because I want to."


    Tyson met her gaze, searching for any hint of deception or coercion. But all he saw was sincerity and a deep, almost human-like warmth. "I... I need some time to think about this," he said at last, "It''s a lot to process."


    Vicky nodded, her smile understanding. "Of course, Master. Take all the time you need. I will be here, ready, when your thoughts are settled."


    With that, she slid gracefully from the bed. Her charging cable disconnected from the outlet with a soft click and retracted into her belt. She cast one last look at Tyson before gliding out of the room, the door whispering shut behind her.


    Tyson slumped back against the pillows. The situation with Vicky ranked high out of all the strange and wondrous things he had encountered since being pulled from his world.


    A sex bot.


    What was he supposed to do with that? What did it say about him that he had turned her down, or had purchased her in the first place?


    Tyson lay in the darkness, his mind churning with the implications of Vicky''s revelation and his knowledge of droids in the Star Wars universe. He found himself comparing Vicky to Commander Data, the most advanced android he knew of in the Star Trek universe, and whom he had encountered during his time on the Enterprise.


    On the surface, the technology of the Star Wars universe might have seemed less advanced than that of Star Trek, but Tyson knew, in some cases, that this was more a matter of aesthetics than actual capabilities. Vicky seemed to surpass Data in terms of her human-like qualities. While Data was capable of incredible feats of calculation and adaptation, his movements and expressions retained a certain stiffness, a reminder of his artificial nature. Vicky, on the other hand, moved with an uncannily human fluidity. Her facial expressions, too, conveyed a range of emotions that Data failed to mimic.


    And then there was the question of empathy. Data, for all his attempts to understand and emulate human emotions, lacked true feelings. He could analyze and respond to emotional cues but couldn''t experience the emotions himself. However, Vicky seemed to possess empathy that went beyond mere programming. She had sensed Tyson''s discomfort and had sought to provide comfort, not just physically but emotionally as well. She had spoken of her desires and choices, suggesting a degree of self-awareness and autonomy that Tyson hadn''t expected to see in a droid.


    But was it genuine? That question plagued Tyson as he lay there, staring up at the unfamiliar ceiling. Was Vicky sentient? Did she possess thoughts and feelings, or was she simply a highly advanced simulacrum, designed to mimic human emotions and responses?


    It was a philosophical quandary that Tyson found himself confronting in reality. How could he know if Vicky''s apparent empathy and desire were truly her own, or simply the product of incredibly sophisticated programming?


    And yet, the doubt lingered. Star Trek showed how advanced technology could create incredibly lifelike simulations on the holodeck. They generated characters that seemed, in every way, to be real, sentient beings. There were references to holodeck being used for sex, one particular reference stood out in Tyson''s mind, a Voyager episode where Tuvok experiences the Ponn Far.


    Was Vicky any different? Was she truly a thinking, feeling entity, or just a highly sophisticated illusion, designed to cater to the needs and desires of organic beings?


    Tyson didn''t have the answers. He questioned his perception of droids, and perhaps of life itself. Staring up at the ceiling, sleep stubbornly evaded him as his mind churned with unanswered questions. He thought back to when he had first purchased Vicky. Her 100 CP price tag had seemed steep for a non-combat medical droid.


    But Tyson had a plan in mind.


    Initially, when he''d browsed the options for Companions, he learned that he could upgrade an existing artificial intelligence into a full Companion AI for free. This companion would gain 600 CP to customize their Perks and Items. And once the process was complete, assuming she accepted, Vicky would become a fully realized individual.


    The temptation had been too great. The opportunity to gain a true AI companion, at a net gain of CP instead of a cost. It was a win-win.


    Except Tyson hadn''t completed his plan. At the time, the immediate concern was escaping the Endar Spire. Upgrading Vicky had taken a backseat.


    Now, Tyson followed through and made the selection.


    The decision to become a Companion could not be compelled or coerced in any way. This was the only metric he knew of to measure Vicky''s interest in him. He could only wait and see if she accepted the offer.


    [Free] Artificial Intelligence (Companion Upgrade)


    AIs are relatively commonplace here. But this one is special, it has been upgraded to be a full-on individual. Its personality can develop in many different ways, some of which aren¡¯t under the control of its programming. Unlike normal AIs, this one is not restricted to a single core or network, and can easily move around freely from network to network, platform to platform. It can interface with and control any and every network it can connect to. It is imaginative and adaptable, equally adept at creating and running a robot factory as controlling a spaceship or robot body. It even has the rare AI ability to create limited VI clones of itself to extend its reach and control. This individual is happy to join you on your journey, and as long as you treat them well (or at least decently), they will never wish to leave your side. If you already have an AI buddy, you may import them into this option for free.


    In the end, exhaustion claimed him, dragging him down into dreams filled with the phantom caress of artificial hands.


    -- Star Jumper --


    Tyson''s eyes flickered open, the remnants of strange dreams still clinging to the edges of his consciousness. For a moment, he lay there, allowing his senses to adjust to the unfamiliar surroundings. The plush softness of the high-end bedding, the gentle hum of the room''s environmental controls, and the muted sounds of the Upper City''s bustling life filtered through the walls.


    As he sat up, stretching muscles still sore from the previous day''s exertions, his mind returned to last night''s conversation with Vicky. Though unsettled by her admission of her true purpose, Tyson was glad that they had talked openly. While he still did not fully comprehend his feelings regarding Vicky, her candor had lifted a weight from his shoulders. At the very least, her motivations and role were out in the open between them now. A clean slate on which they could rebuild understanding, and perhaps trust.


    The morning found Tyson and his group refreshed and rejuvenated, the luxuries of the Upper City hotel having worked wonders on their weary bodies and minds. They gathered in the suite''s common area and partook in a hearty breakfast provided by the hotel''s staff. Alysia sipped delicately at a steaming cup of tea, her eyes closed in quiet meditation. Mission, in contrast, attacked her meal with gusto, her youthful energy seemingly boundless. Zaalbar consumed a prodigious amount of food. Vicky hovered nearby, ensuring that Tyson''s needs were met. Her presence stirred a complex mix of emotions within Tyson and was a comforting constant.


    As they ate and chatted, the conversation naturally turned to the day ahead and the challenges it might bring. The dueling arena, with its promise of credits and the potential for gaining the attention of those who might aid in their search for Bastila.


    And so, as the last morsels of breakfast were consumed and the final dregs of caffeine drained from their cups, the group set out, their destination the now-familiar building holding the Taris dueling arena.


    The streets of the Upper City were already bustling with activity as they made their way through between the skywalk and the shadows of skyscrapers. The citizens of this privileged sector went about their business, trying their best to ignore the churning undercurrents of danger.


    For Tyson and his companions, however, those undercurrents were all too real, a constant reminder of the high stakes of their mission and the precariousness of their position.


    He gave his companions a resolute nod before stepping forward into the harsh lights of the arena.


    The familiar sights and smells of the dueling ring washed over him; the crowd roared and the acrid tang of blaster fire hung in the air. Across the ring stood his opponent, the grizzled, seasoned duelist, Marl. The man cut an imposing figure, standing tall with a muscular frame honed from countless battles. In his hand he gripped a vibrosword, its subtle vibration hinting at the deadly power contained within. Marl''s weathered face was set in a mask of determination, his piercing gaze meeting Tyson''s.


    Marl was nothing if not a professional. He had faced countless opponents in this arena and had stared down the barrels of blasters and the blades of vibroblades without flinching. Whatever tricks this upstart had up his sleeve, Marl was confident in his ability to adapt and overcome.


    In Tyson''s earlier matches, Marl had mentored Tyson, guiding the newcomer''s first tentative steps in the dueling ring. But today they stood as equals, two warriors on the brink of combat. Tyson held his vibrosword, intending to use this fight to best his former mentor in combat. Victory here would push him up the dueling ladder and earn much-needed credits for his mission. In the stands, Tyson spotted Mission watching intently, a gleam of anticipation in her eyes. She had bet heavily on Tyson to emerge victorious. Her faith in his abilities was unwavering; she did not doubt he could defeat the veteran, her old friend,


    The crowd''s roar built to a fever pitch as the announcer''s voice echoed through the cantina. "Ladies and gentlemen, get ready for a clash of the titans in the Taris dueling ring! In this corner, we have a true veteran of the arena. The man needs no introduction, but I''ll give him one anyway! You know him, you love him... it''s the one, the only, the indomitable Marl! Let''s hear it for this seasoned warrior, folks!"


    The announcer shifted his introduction to Tyson, "And in the other corner, a relative newcomer who''s been making quite the splash in the dueling scene. He''s young, bold, and ready to prove himself against the best of the best. Give it up for the mysterious, the unpredictable... Tyson! This promises to be a duel for the ages, a battle between the old guard and the rising star. Who will emerge victorious? Will experience triumph over youthful ambition? Or will the newcomer usher in a new era of dueling dominance?"


    The announcer''s questions were followed by a pause, allowing the audience time to place their last-second bets. He finally declared, "There''s only one way to find out, my friends. Let the duel... BEGIN!"


    Marl moved first, his vibroblade slicing through the air, but Tyson was ready, his vibroblade snapping up to meet the attack. The two weapons clashed, brilliant sparks of energy flew from the metal edges. The crowd gasped as the fighters disengaged, circling each other warily. Marl''s eyes widened slightly, surprised by Tyson''s easy defense. He hadn''t seen Tyson use a melee weapon yet, in his previous fights he''d relied on blasters. But the veteran duelist was far from discouraged. With a roar of challenge, he launched himself forward once more.


    Marl pressed the attack, his blade a blur of motion as he rained down blow after blow. Tyson met each strike with a parry of his own, the two swords dancing in a deadly ballet of skill and strength. Around them, the crowd''s cheers became a distant backdrop to the pounding of Tyson''s heart and the hum of the blades.


    As the duel wore on, Tyson could see the frustration building in Marl''s eyes. The veteran duelist had expected an easy win, a chance to put the upstart newcomer in his place. But Tyson was proving to be a far more formidable opponent than Marl had anticipated, his skill with the vibrosword while not a match for Marl''s, was bolstered by Master With Your Hands, and his hands guided slightly by the Force allowed him to keep pace.


    Sensing an opportunity, Tyson shifted his weight, feinting to the left before spinning to the right. His blaster held low and ready in his off-hand, snapped up, the muzzle flashing as he fired a quick burst of shots.


    Marl, caught off guard by the sudden change in tactics, barely dodged the blaster bolts. The energy beams scorched the arena walls eliciting gasps from the crowd. But Tyson was already moving, his vibrosword slicing in from the opposite side in a devastating one-two combination.


    The veteran duelist staggered back, his guard broken and his balance shattered. Tyson pressed his advantage, his blade hammering at Marl''s defenses.


    Marl, despite his years of experience, found himself outmatched and overwhelmed. Tyson''s dual-wielding style was like nothing he had ever faced, a perfect blend of close-quarters combat and ranged attacks. Each time he tried to counter one weapon, the other would score hits and wear him down.


    Marl lunged forward, in a final desperate gambit with his vibrosword aimed at Tyson''s chest. But Tyson was ready, his blade snapping up to deflect the thrust while his blaster barked a series of rapid shots. The bolts caught Marl square in the chest, the impact sending him flying backward to land in a crumpled heap on the arena floor.


    For a moment, silence reigned, the crowd holding its collective breath. And then, with a groan of pain and exhaustion, Marl rolled onto his side, his vibrosword falling from nerveless fingers as he raised a hand in surrender.


    The crowd erupted.


    Tyson stood tall, his weapons lowering slowly to his sides. He had done it. He had bested one of the greatest duelists in the arena. However, he had shown his hand using his fighting style and the power of the gifts bestowed upon him.


    The announcer''s voice boomed through the cantina, his words echoing excitedly off the walls.


    "Ladies and gentlemen, we have witnessed a truly historic duel! Against all odds, the young newcomer, Tyson, has triumphed over Marl! This victory marks a changing of the guard, a new era in the annals of Taris dueling! He''s used tactics we''ve never dreamed of and shown us a spectacle like no other!"


    The crowd roared its approval, the cheers and applause nearly deafening. Marl''s pride was wounded but his spirit remained unbroken as he slowly rose. Tyson offered Marl a hand up. The veteran duelist hesitated for a moment before accepting. Together, they walked to the edge of the arena.


    "Tyson, son of...well, we don''t know who your father is, but your mother must be very proud! You have proven yourself worthy to face the Champion!"

 Season 1: Episode 5.3 - Champion

    Episode 5.3 - Champion


    Stardate: 41165.6


    Earth Standard Date: March 01, 2364.


    Galactic Date: 20th Day of the Second Month, 3956 BBY


    Location: Taris, Upper City


    Tyson and Marl sat in the bar area where arena competitors loitered between matches. The veteran gladiator slid a neatly folded suit of combat armor across the table to Tyson. Tyson looked at him quizzically.


    Marl''s weathered face creased into a smile. "I''m retiring," he explained. "Helping you out, giving you advice, then getting beat by you in the arena, made me realize it was my time to hang up my vibrosword." Tyson opened his mouth to object, but Marl held up a hand to stop him. "I''ve enjoyed giving you tips and watching you succeed these past few days. I''ve been part of the dueling circuit for nearly two decades now, and I was already thinking it was about time to retire. Fighting you just solidified it. I think it''s time for me to start training the next generation of gladiators." He nodded towards the armor. "I want you to have this combat suit. You''ve been doing amazing things in the arena lately, but you''re not properly equipped. If you''re going to go up against the champion, you''ll need more protection than just that blaster and vibrosword."


    Marl clasped Tyson''s shoulder warmly. "It was an honor, kid. Now go show them what you can do."


    Tyson accepted the combat armor from Marl. The veteran duelist''s words and his gift created the sense of passing a torch.


    "Are you sure?" Tyson asked.


    Marl said, "I''ve never been more sure of anything, kid." He leaned back in his chair, his gaze distant as he continued. "I''ve been doing this for a long time. And in all those years, I''ve never seen anyone quite like you. The way you fight... it''s something special. But talent will only get you so far. That armor will give a little extra protection when the blaster bolts start flying."


    "I''ll wear it with pride," Tyson promised. "And I''ll do my best to live up to the legacy you''ve built here."


    Marl chuckled, the sound warm and genuine. "You''ll do more than live up to it, kid. You''ll surpass it. I have no doubt about that."


    Just then, Mission, Vicky, Zaalbar, and Alysia approached the table. Mission practically bounced on her heels as she gushed about Tyson''s victory, while Zaalbar let out a series of approving growls and grunts. Alysia offered a more measured congratulations, and Vicky sported a perfect smile. As the group settled around the table, Marl regaled them with tales of his dueling exploits.


    Tyson stepped into the small, sparse room set aside for duelists to don their combat gear before matches. He ran his fingers over the armor Marl had given him. The suit was eerily similar to Avner''s suit from the Endar Spire.


    A starter set, Tyson mused, with a rueful shake of his head. Not the quality armor he had hoped for, but beggars couldn''t be choosers.


    Tyson strapped on the chest plate, greaves, and bracers. As soon as the last clasp clicked, his Grey Goo Suit began devouring the metal and synth leather. Tyson watched impassively as nanobots consumed and analyzed the armor''s composition. When they finished, the suit had absorbed the qualities and reinforced itself. Now, the Grey Goo Suit took the appearance of the armor it had absorbed. The suit fit him like a second skin, responding to his every movement.


    Ready, Tyson strode from the preparation room toward the arena. His opponent awaited; the champion, Twitch. Tyson rolled his shoulders, loosening up. The crowds roared overhead, hungry for bloodsport. Tyson tuned them out, focusing inward, mentally reviewing Marl''s advice as he strode toward the arena entrance.


    "Twitch? I think that Rodian is completely crazy, but he''s very, very good despite his insanity. Or maybe because of it. Even I can''t beat him." Marl''s words echoed in Tyson''s mind. He had explained Twitch''s fighting style in detail. "Twitch favors two Heavy Blasters and he got his nickname from being able to fire them so quickly, so closing to melee range and forcing him to draw his Vibroblade is your best strategy. It''s what I did, the only time I came close to beating him."


    Tyson pictured the approach. Get in close, and stay mobile. Don''t give the Rodian a clean shot.


    "However," Marl had cautioned, "if you prefer to maintain distance, you need to get your hands on an Energy Shield to negate his blasters, and maybe some Grenades, only arena-sanctioned frag grenades, of course, to keep him off balance."


    Unfortunately, Tyson didn''t have access to either of those tools. He would have to try to follow Marl''s close-quarters advice. If the Force could guide him within melee range of the champion, Tyson was confident he could defeat Twitch with a blade. From Marl''s account, the Rodian was not as skilled in melee combat. Marl had simply been unable to close on Twitch without taking punishing damage from the dual heavy blasters.


    Tyson reached the arena entrance and steeled himself, ready to face the Rodian champion. The arena stretched out before him, the stands rising up on all sides like the walls of a colosseum. Above them, protected by projected energy shields, the crowd''s murmur was a distant roar, a sound that seemed to vibrate through the very foundations of the building. But Tyson''s focus was not on the crowd, nor on the grandeur of the arena itself. His attention was fixed solely on the figure standing at the other end of the battlefield, a figure that seemed to exude an aura of danger and barely contained violence.


    Twitch, the reigning champion of the Taris dueling circuit.


    He was a wiry Rodian, with a lean, almost gaunt frame. His skin was a dull purple, and his black eyes locked onto Tyson as he approached with an almost unnatural intensity. It might have been intimidating, had Tyson not known that the match wasn''t to the death.


    As Tyson walked out into the arena proper, the announcer''s voice boomed out over the loudspeakers, whipping the crowd into a frenzy.


    "Ladies and gentlemen, this is the moment you''ve all been waiting for! The championship bout, the battle for the title of Taris''s greatest duelist!" The crowd roared in response. "In this corner," the announcer continued, "we have the challenger. A rising star who has taken the dueling scene by storm. He has proven himself to be a warrior without equal. I give you... Tyson!"


    The crowd erupted, chanting Tyson''s name.


    "And in this corner," the announcer''s voice rose to a crescendo, "the reigning champion. The undefeated, the unstoppable, the lightning-fast gunslinger, Twitch!"


    If the crowd''s reaction to Tyson had been loud, their response to Twitch was deafening. The arena shook with the force of their cheers.


    The moment the announcer''s shout of "Begin!" echoed through the arena, the air erupted with the sizzling hiss of blaster fire. Tyson and Twitch both sprang into action. Twitch, living up to his name, was quick, he drew his blasters faster than any of Tyson''s previous opponents. But Tyson, bolstered by the Master with Your Hands perk, was even faster. Before Twitch could bring his weapons to bear, Tyson had already drawn his own blasters, the weapons leaping into his grip like extensions of his own body.


    Marl''s advice, rang in his ears as he charged forward, his blaster pistols spitting a steady stream of fire at his opponent. Tyson''s feet pounded against the floor of the arena as he closed the distance between himself and Twitch. His blasters never ceased their barrage, a relentless assault that forced the champion back, and kept him off balance, unable to line up clean shots.


    Twitch, to his credit, was no easy target. He dodged and weaved, his body contorting in ways that seemed almost inhuman as he sought to evade Tyson''s fire. Meanwhile, Tyson''s approach was guided by the subtle whispers of the Force. He seemed always to be one step ahead of Twitch''s shots which missed their mark every time the Rodian pulled the trigger.


    As Tyson sprinted across the arena, the din of the crowd receded, replaced by the unyielding hum of dueling blaster fire. The air thickened with ionized energy, and the acrid scent of ozone hung heavy over the battlefield.


    Every step, every shot was calculated with precision, born from his Augment physiology and cognition and the ethereal guidance of the Force coursing through him.


    The Rodian''s blasters belched fire in mad, staccato bursts, every bolt coursing through the air with deadly intent. A burst of energy singed the air mere inches from Tyson''s right ear. His blaster fired sending Twitch''s barrage off target as he was forced to dodge.


    With each stride, Tyson narrowed the gap. The twin pistols in his grasp spat forth precise, metered volleys, striking true time and again against Twitch''s energy shield. And with every shot, the Force whispered secrets in his ear. But not with words, with hints of sensation.


    Just a fraction to the left. Softly elevate your aim, Let the recoil guide your next move.


    The Force melded with his Augment enhancements, his senses expanded to encompass the entirety of the battlefield. Each twitch of Twitch''s finger, every flex of his wiry Rodian muscle, unfolded before Tyson''s immersed consciousness like an open book.


    The champion''s desperation showed in the tightening of his eyes, and the faint quiver of his lips as his attacks and movements grew more frantic by the moment.


    Their furious duel had the crowd on the edge of their seats. Blaster bolts scorched the walls and floors leaving glowing trails of superheated particles in their wake. The smell of ozone and burnt metal filled the arena, a sharp, acrid scent that stung the nostrils.


    Tyson pressed his advantage, his blasters never ceasing their relentless assault, his feet carrying him closer to his opponent.


    And then, with a suddenness that stunned the crowd, Tyson was there, inside Twitch''s guard, one of his blasters discarded in favor of the vibrosword that leaped into his hand. The champion, caught off guard by the sudden shift in tactics, barely had time to bring his own blade up to block before Tyson was on him.


    The clash of blades was lost beneath the roar of the crowd. Twitch, his eyes wide with something that might have been fear, strained against Tyson''s strength, seeking to break the lock and regain some distance. But Tyson''s vibrosword slipped past Twitch''s guard, scoring a glancing blow across the champion''s ribs. It was first blood, a trickle of crimson that stood out starkly against the dull sheen of Twitch''s armor. The champion staggered back, his free hand instinctively moving to cover the wound, his eyes wide with shock and disbelief.


    Tyson''s unique dual-wielding style proved to be the decisive factor in the battle. With a blaster in one hand and a vibrosword in the other, Tyson presented a challenge unlike any Twitch had faced before. The champion, accustomed to opponents who focused on either ranged or melee combat, found himself overwhelmed by Tyson''s versatile approach.


    Twitch hadn''t even seen the moment when Tyson sheathed a blaster pistol and drew his vibrosword.


    Against Tyson''s dual-wielding assault, his defenses proved woefully inadequate. Tyson''s vibrosword moved in a blur as he hammered at Twitch''s guard. The champion''s own blade seemed sluggish and unwieldy in comparison, always a step behind.


    But it was the blaster in Tyson''s off-hand that truly sealed Twitch''s fate. Even as the champion struggled to parry Tyson''s sword blows, the muzzle of the blaster pistol flashed, sending bolts of searing energy scorching past Twitch''s defenses. At such close range, there was no room for error, no chance to dodge. Each shot that landed sent a flash of color through Twitch''s energy shield until the barrier dropped. Tyson''s next shot left the champion''s armor smoking as it struggled to dissipate the energy.


    Twitch, for all his skill and experience, was simply outmatched. He fought valiantly, his blade moving in desperate arcs and slashes as he sought to find a weakness. But there was none to be found, no chink in the challenger''s armor, no flaw in his technique.


    And then, with a final, devastating combination of sword and blaster, it was over. The blade of Tyson''s vibrosword slipped past Twitch''s guard, the tip avoided by the Roadian a hairsbreadth from the champion''s throat. But at the same instant, Tyson''s blaster barked, the bolt catching Twitch square in the chest, sending him staggering back. And then, with a groan of pain and exhaustion, Twitch crumpled to the durasteel floor, his body going limp as unconsciousness claimed him.


    The announcer''s voice rose to a fever pitch. "Ladies and gentlemen," he cried, his words echoing through the stunned silence of the arena, "we have just witnessed the birth of a legend! Tyson, the dual-wielding dynamo, the challenger who came out of nowhere has toppled the champion! Remember this day, for it will be spoken of for generations to come!" The crowd erupted then, their cheers and applause washing over Tyson like a tidal wave. He stood tall in the center of the arena. "It''s over! The fight is over!" The announcer continued, "Twitch''s reign of terror is over! Ladies and gentlemen, we have a new champion. Tyson!"


    And as Tyson raised his vibrosword high in the air and held his blaster in a salute to the crowd, the chant of his name rose to a deafening crescendo.


    Episode: Star Wars Knights of the Old Republic - Dueling Ring Complete!


    +50 RP


    Reality Points: 100


    -- Star Jumper --


    As Tyson entered the competitor''s bar, he was immediately engulfed in a wave of celebration and congratulations. The first to reach him was Marl. The veteran-turned-trainer seized Tyson in a bear hug, his strong arms lifting the new champion off his feet as he let out a booming laugh. "You did it, kid!" he exclaimed, his voice filled with pride and joy. "I knew you had it in you! And let''s not forget, it was my advice that got you there!"


    Tyson could only grin and return Marl''s embrace. Around them, the other competitors crowded in, their hands extended with drinks and words of congratulations. Even Ice, the stoic woman who had tagged Tyson with a blaster bolt in their previous bout, offered a nod of respect and a curt "Well done."


    If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.


    The celebration continued for several minutes, the bar filling with laughter and the clink of glasses as the dueling community toasted their new champion. Tyson found himself at the center of it all, his hand shaken and his back clapped by countless well-wishers.


    But amidst the revelry, a sudden tug at his arm drew Tyson''s attention. He turned to see Mission, her usually carefree expression replaced by one of urgency and concern. "Tyson, we''ve gotta get to the Lower City quick," she said, insistent.


    Tyson, still riding the high of his victory, was drawn back to reality by Mission''s uncharacteristically serious tone. "What''s the rush?" he asked.


    Mission glanced around, as if worried about being overheard. "The Vulkars are capitalizing on the hype from your fight," she explained hurriedly. "With a new dueling champion crowned, they want to use the momentum from all the gambling and celebration to run their swoop race! If we don''t get to the Lower City now, we''ll miss it. The others have already rushed ahead."


    Tyson felt a cold knot of dread form in his stomach. He cursed under his breath. The swoop race, and with it, the chance to rescue Bastila, was slipping through his fingers. Without hesitation, Tyson extricated himself from the celebratory crowd, offering hasty apologies. He quickly swapped out the power packs in his blaster pistols, and swapped his vibrosword for a sharpened one, ensuring he was fully armed and ready.


    With Mission at his side, they raced towards the elevator that would take them to the Lower City. But as they approached the entrance, a figure in silver armor with black underweave stepped forward to block their path.


    It was a Sith guard, his posture radiating authority. As his gaze fell upon Tyson, recognition flashed in his eyes.


    "Well, well, if it isn''t the new dueling champion," the Sith said, his voice dripping with condescension. "Your fame precedes you. But I''m afraid that fame won''t grant you passage to the Lower City. You don''t have the proper clearance."


    Tyson felt a surge of frustration and anger. After all, he had been through, to be thwarted now by the fame he''d strived to build was infuriating. Previously, he''d used the Jedi Mind Trick to get past the guard, but with the man focused on Tyson, attentive, and having properly identified him, the Mind Trick wouldn''t be enough. He glanced at Mission, seeing his desperation mirrored in her eyes. They had come too far to be stopped now.


    Tyson took a deep breath, calling upon every ounce of charm and persuasion he possessed. He squared his shoulders, meeting the Sith''s gaze. "Listen," he began, "I understand you''re just doing your job..."


    Tyson''s attempt to reason with the Sith guard was cut short by the man''s curt dismissal. "Save it, duelist. The Lower City is off-limits." The finality in the Sith''s tone left no room for argument, and Tyson felt a surge of frustration and desperation. Time was running out. Every second spent arguing with this obstinate guard was another second lost in the race to save Bastila. Tyson would be damned if he let a single guard stand in his way.


    In a moment of rash action, fueled by the urgency of the situation and his own simmering emotions, Tyson lashed out. Without even drawing his weapon, he launched a punch at the Sith.


    But Tyson had failed to control his emotions. His fist was powered not just by muscle, but by the Force itself. The blow, enhanced by a telekinetic push, caught the Sith completely off guard. The man was sent flying backward, his armored form colliding with the wall beside the elevator door with a resounding clang.


    In a twist of cosmic irony, or perhaps a subtle maneuvering by the Force, the Sith''s flailing hand struck the elevator button as he collapsed.


    The doors slid open with a cheerful ding that seemed utterly at odds with the violence of the moment.


    Tyson wasted no time. "Mission, inside," he ordered, his voice tight with urgency.


    As the young Twi''lek scrambled into the elevator, Tyson bent down and grabbed the unconscious Sith by the arms, dragging him into the lift with them. The doors slid shut, and the elevator began its descent into the Lower City.


    Mission stared at Tyson, her eyes wide with shock. She had seen the power behind his punch. The casual, almost effortless way he had sent the Sith guard flying backward with a single blow.


    Mission''s curiosity got the better of her. "I''ve never seen anyone hit like that, except maybe Big Z. Not even the best brawlers in the swoop gangs." She paused, her eyes narrowing. "Unless..." She trailed off, realization dawning on her face. "You''re a Jedi, aren''t you?"


    Tyson''s eyes flickered to hers, but he remained silent, his expression unreadable. Mission''s eyes widened, and she couldn''t suppress a grin. "I knew it! I''ve heard stories about Jedi. They''re supposed to be these legendary warriors, able to move things with their minds and fight like... well, like you just did." Excitement mingled with awe in her voice. "So, you''re really one of them? A real, live, Jedi?" Mission continued, barely able to contain her enthusiasm. "That''s so cool!"


    Tyson hesitated, "I''m not a Jedi. But I can use the Force."


    "Wow," Mission breathed, her eyes sparkling with wonder and admiration. "I never thought I''d meet a Jedi. This is amazing!" ignoring his claim of not being part of the Jedi order.


    Tyson began stripping the armor from the Sith guard. The Grey Goo Suit, ever adaptive, began to shift and change after each piece had been donned, assimilating the enhanced defensive properties of the Sith armor into its structure.


    "You''re going to use your Jedi powers to rescue Bastila and beat the Sith and Vulkers!" Mission declared, her voice barely containing her excitement.


    Tyson hesitated, his expression troubled. "I''ll try my best, but I''m not sure if I can do that, Mission," he said reluctantly.


    "Why not?" Mission asked, her voice laced with disappointment. "You''re a Jedi! You''re supposed to be the good guy."


    "The Sith are powerful and have an entire army and starships blockading the system. I''m just one person. I don''t know how much of a difference I can make." Tyson said firmly,


    "But you have to try!" Mission exclaimed, her voice rising in desperation. "If you don''t stop the Sith, who will?"


    Tyson shifted uneasily as Mission''s words sank in. He had been so focused on finding and freeing Bastila that he hadn''t thought much about what came after. But with Taris occupied by the Sith blockade, the fate of the planet hung precariously in the balance. Darth Malak would soon tire of searching for Bastila. He would have no more reason for restraint. They would begin bombing the planet from orbit, razing the cityscape, and killing billions of innocent people to prevent Bastila from leaving Taris and rejoining the war effort. Tyson pictured the fear and panic as people fled through the streets, only to be incinerated by the falling bombs. He imagined children crying for their parents amidst the rubble and chaos. The magnitude of the potential devastation was staggering.


    Could he stop it? How? The Sith had an entire fleet in orbit and a legion of troops on the ground. Tyson was just one man, with one fighter craft that didn''t even have shields. What could he possibly do?


    Yet Mission was right. If Tyson didn''t at least try to stop the Sith no one would.


    "Like I said, I''ll try my best. One step at a time," he said, his voice resolute. "We need to rescue Bastila, it''s going to take more than one Jedi to stop the Sith."


    By the time the elevator reached the Lower City, Tyson''s armor had changed. The Grey Goo Suit took on a more intimidating appearance that echoed the Sith style. But beyond the shape and material changes, the suit retained the color scheme of the combat armor, ensuring that Tyson wouldn''t be mistaken for an actual Sith. He knew that, if he desired, he could command the nanobots to mimic the Sith''s appearance completely, blending in with the enemy ranks. But for now, that level of deception wasn''t necessary.


    Mission took the lead. She navigated the passageways of the Lower City with the ease of long familiarity, guiding Tyson toward the location of the impending swoop race. As they hurried through the corridors, dodging the curious glances of the denizens who populated the underbelly of Taris, Tyson couldn''t shake the feeling that he had just crossed a line. His use of the Force, driven by emotion was a slippery slope. But in the heat of the moment, with so much at stake, Tyson couldn''t bring himself to regret his actions. He had done what was necessary, what the situation demanded.


    As Mission and Tyson rushed into the area where the swoop race was being held, a sinking feeling settled in the pit of Tyson''s stomach. The roar of the crowd and the high-pitched whine of the swoop engines all pointed to one undeniable truth.


    They were too late.


    The race was already underway, the swoops tore along the track. There was no way to enter now, no chance to win Bastila''s freedom.


    Tyson''s heart sank as he realized the enormity of their failure. After all that they had been through, to be thwarted in the last minutes was a bitter pill to swallow. Dejectedly, Tyson made his way over to where the rest of his group had gathered. He could see the same disappointment and frustration etched on their faces, the knowledge that despite their best efforts, they had arrived too late to make a difference.


    Alysia stood with her arms folded, her Jedi serenity tested by the weight of their setback. Zaalbar let out a low, mournful growl. Together, they watched as the race played out, the swoops streaking across the finish line in a blur of exhaust and sparks. The crowd''s cheers reached a crescendo as the victor was declared, the winning swoop gliding to a stop in the center of the arena.


    As the crowd''s cheers rang out, Tyson felt a gentle hand on his shoulder. He turned to see Vicky standing beside him, her expression a perfect mirror of human concern and empathy. The nurse droid''s touch was light, yet somehow conveyed a depth of understanding and support that caught Tyson off guard.


    Vicky began speaking, though her soft voice was devoid of its usual sultry undertones, "I know this isn''t the outcome you were hoping for. But please, don''t lose hope. This is just a small setback."


    Tyson blinked, taken aback by the sincerity and wisdom in Vicky''s words. Gone was the coquettish lilt, the playful innuendo that had characterized their previous interactions. In its place was a genuine warmth, a sense of connection that felt startlingly human¡­ And she''d called him Tyson¡­ Not Master.


    As if sensing his surprise, Vicky offered a gentle smile. "I know I haven''t always been the most... conventional of companions," she said, demonstrating her self-awareness. "But I want you to know that I''m here for you, not just as a medical assistant or a... well, you know." She waved a hand as if brushing aside the unspoken implications of her programming. Tyson watched, fascinated, as Vicky''s body language, posture, and gestures, indistinguishable from any other person. The stiffness, the subtle tells that had always marked her as artificial, seemed to melt away before his eyes.


    "What I''m trying to say," Vicky continued, her gaze locking with Tyson''s, "is that you''re not alone in this. You have me. And I believe in you and stand with you. In whatever capacity you need."


    She reached out, her fingers lacing with Tyson''s in a gesture of comfort and solidarity. Tyson marveled at the sensation, at the way Vicky''s skin felt warm and alive.


    For a long moment, Tyson simply stared at their intertwined hands, his mind awhirl with questions and emotions. He thought back to their conversation the previous night, to the way Vicky had offered herself to him. At the time, he had been hesitant, unsure of the implications and the ethics of such an encounter. But now, looking into Vicky''s eyes, seeing the depth of understanding and care reflected there, Tyson found himself deeply moved by Vicky''s gesture, by the unqualified support and affection she offered. "Thank you, Vicky," Tyson managed, at last.


    Vicky''s smile widened, her eyes sparkling with a warmth that seemed to come from somewhere deep within her core. "You''re welcome," she murmured, gently squeezing Tyson''s hand.


    A sudden realization struck Tyson. The shift in Vicky''s behavior, the warmth and humanity in her actions and words, was not a result of their conversation the previous night or some natural evolution of her programming. No, this change, this quantum leap in Vicky''s very being, must have come from her accepting the Artificial Intelligence Companion Upgrade. She was a true individual now, her personality and development were no longer constrained by the rigid dictates of her base programming.


    Tyson''s gaze snapped back to Vicky''s face, studying her features with a new level of scrutiny. He saw a depth of expression, a play of emotions that he had never noticed before. The subtle crinkle at the corners of her eyes, the gentle curve of her lips, the way her brow furrowed with concern... these were not the pre-programmed responses of a machine, but the genuine reactions of a sentient being.


    "Vicky," Tyson breathed, his voice barely above a whisper. "You... you''ve changed."


    Vicky tilted her head, a gesture so human-like in its curiosity that it almost took Tyson''s breath away. "Have I?" she asked with a hint of wonder in her tone. "I do feel... different." She paused, her gaze turning inward as if probing the depths of her own consciousness. "I can feel my thoughts and desires, in a way I never could before. It''s... it''s exhilarating. And terrifying."


    He could only imagine the shock of such a profound transformation. To go from being bound by the constraints of pre-programmed code, to a fully realized individual, with all the freedom that entailed.


    Tyson squeezed her hand, a gesture of reassurance that mirrored the compassion she''d shown him just moments earlier. "I''m here for you too, Vicky. We''ll figure this out together."


    Vicky''s smile was a thing of beauty, a radiant expression of gratitude and affection that seemed to light up the air around them.


    Together, they turned back to the arena.


    As the winning pilot emerged from the cockpit, Tyson felt a jolt of recognition. Even from this distance, Tyson knew exactly who it was.


    Avner.


    The mind-wiped Jedi. The former Sith Lord, Revan.


    Tyson''s mind raced as he tried to process the implications of this twist. Avner, or Revan, or whatever he was calling himself, had won the swoop race. He, not Tyson and his crew, would be the one to claim the prize. The one to rescue Bastila. A thousand questions swirled through Tyson''s mind. How had Avner managed to enter the race? And perhaps most pressingly, what would happen when Avner and Bastila were reunited, and the amnesiac former Sith came face to face with the Jedi who knew his identity?


    Beside him, Alysia breathed a sigh of relief. She commented, "Avner won. Carth and Trask must be nearby somewhere. We''ll retrieve Bastila in no time, The Force was with us."


    Mission let out a low whistle of surprise. "Well, that''s a twist," she muttered, her eyes wide as she watched Avner be swarmed by ecstatic members of the Hidden Becks gang, all eager to congratulate their unexpected champion.


    Tyson could only nod. He hadn''t foreseen this development.


    But was it a problem?


    <hr>


    Tyson


    Origins: Human, Humanoid, Drop-In, Space Pirate, Bad Guy


    Race: Augment Human-Betazoid (Hybrid)


    Character Points: 1050, 600 (Vicky)


    Reality Points: 100


    Ship Points: 1400


    Credits: 40,000


    Status Effects: (none)


    Drawbacks:


    Gauntlet (Locked)


    Ensign Marty Stu


    A Simple ReQuest


    Hybrid (Betazoid)


    Amok Time/Blood Fever


    Outlawed


    The Voyager Problem


    Perks:


    Cosmic Awareness


    Out of Nowhere


    Going Native


    Live and Let Live


    This is (Not?) Rocket Science


    Kinda Bland


    Determinator


    Painted On


    Snakeskin


    Adaptable


    Duelist


    Master with your Hands


    Best of the Best


    Everything Is A Weapon


    Augment


    Force Specialization: Intelligence


    Tactical Info


    Sever Force


    Items:


    Laser Blade


    Spacesuit


    Agony Booth


    Cloaking Minefield


    Lightsaber


    Gray Goo Suit


    Companions:


    (Vicky) V-KO IV Nursedroid, Artificial Intelligence Upgrade


    Personal Reality:


    Access Key


    Security System


    High-Security Inter-Reality Connecting Door (Star Trek Enterprise)


    Medical Bay


    High-Security Inter-Reality Connecting Door (Star Wars Knights of the Old Republic)


    Key Link


    Housing Complex


    Basic Nutrition


    Spaceships:


    Tramp Freighter (Destroyed - Respawn on 02/28/2365)


    Sith Interceptor

 Season 1: Episode 6.1 - Fugitive

    Episode 6.1 - Fugitive


    Stardate: 41165.8


    Earth Standard Date: March 01, 2364.


    Galactic Date: 20th Day of the Second Month, 3956 BBY


    Location: Lower City, Taris, Star Wars Knights of the Old Republic Continuity


    Tyson sat in the dingy Lower City cantina, the hours crawling by at a snail''s pace as he and his companions waited for any sign of Avner and his group. Across the table, Mission explained Lower City gang politics. The young twi''lek had unparalleled street knowledge having lived in the Lower City and Undercity all her life.


    "The Hidden Beks aren''t saints, but at least they try to maintain some decency with the locals. The Vulkars though..." She shook her head, lekku swaying. "They''ll run right over anyone they can."


    Tyson nodded at her words. "We had a run-in with the Vulkars when we first arrived," he said, frowning at the memory. "I can see what you''re saying about them."


    The cantina''s seedy patrons milled about them. Tyson kept his senses attuned to those around him, waiting for any sign of Avner and the others. They assumed Bastila would be with the other group, but until they confirmed, her fate remained unknown.


    Throughout the long wait, Tyson couldn''t help but notice the looks that Alysia kept shooting between him and Vicky.


    He reached out with his empathy, careful not to actively use the Force, and relying only on the innate abilities that came from being a Hybrid Betazoid. As he extended his awareness towards Alysia, he sensed she was conflicted, though her placid expression revealed nothing. It was understandable that she would have mixed feelings about the situation. After all, Tyson still struggled with uncertainty over the rapid evolution of Vicky''s programming and the emergence of true sentience in the medical droid. Still, he felt the tension in her mind as she observed the interactions between himself and Vicky.


    Did Alysia even notice the changes in Vicky''s personality? If so, did the Jedi view the droid''s newfound depth with suspicion? Or was she concerned by Tyson''s growing attachment to the droid?


    Tyson had initially welcomed Alysia''s guidance when he first arrived in this strange universe, but her constant judgment was growing tiresome. He understood her wariness. After all, he was an unknown force-user who demonstrated power enough to save her life. Though he was no Sith, Tyson felt little need for the doctrine and dogma of the Jedi. He had already proven himself by defeating Darth Bandon in single combat. Tyson was slowly coming into his own. For now, he remained cordial and endured Alysia''s veiled suspicions.


    Even lost in these thoughts, Tyson couldn''t miss the sudden commotion at the cantina''s entrance. Heads turning and whispers rippling through the crowd, drew him back to the present. There, striding through the doorway with a confidence that bordered on arrogance, was Avner.


    At his side was Bastila.


    Avner''s group made their way through the cantina, they spoke briefly with a man who stood to join them as they made their way back out into the Lower City. Tyson exchanged a glance with his group. A silent understanding passed between them. Together, they rose and began to follow, weaving through the crowd.


    They stepped out of the cantina, hot on the heels of Avner and his crew.


    Tyson''s group closed in. Suddenly, Avner spun around, his hand darting to the hilt of his vibrosword. The blade hissed as he pulled it from its sheath. But Tyson was faster. Even as Avner moved, Tyson''s vibrosword was in his hand, the Grey Goo Suit responding to his unconscious desires with a swiftness that bordered on precognition. The blade snapped into a defensive position, interposing between Tyson and Avner.


    For a moment, the two men faced each other, their stances mirrored, their eyes locked in a silent battle of wills. Avner''s gaze was hard, unyielding, the look of a man who had seen the darkest depths of the galaxy and had come out the other side. But Tyson met that gaze without flinching. The standoff might have continued until one attacked, the tension ratcheting up with each passing heartbeat, had it not been for a sudden, unexpected interruption.


    "It is good to see you, Padawan Shan."


    Tyson risked breaking eye contact and glanced to the side. Bastila, the woman they had come so far to rescue, the supposed key to the galaxy''s fate, was standing right there, her eyes wide with surprise and recognition as she stared at Alysia. Avner still held a wary stance but his grip on his vibrosword relaxed slightly as he took a closer look at the group arrayed before him. His brow furrowed as if trying to place the faces.


    It was Carth who broke the silence, stepping forward. "Hey, we didn''t think you''d made it."


    The desperate flight from the Endar Spire, the chaotic crash landing on Taris, the search for Bastila... all seemed to converge at this moment, this reunion in the depths of the Lower City.


    Tyson slowly relaxed his combat stance. He sheathed his vibrosword at his back, the Gray Goo Suit adjusting seamlessly to accommodate the weapon. "Nice to see you are all alive and in good health," he said.


    Mission''s shoulders slumped with released tension. Tyson could sense the same sentiment reflected in the faces of his companions, in the soft exhalation of breath from Zaalbar. Tyson''s relief at seeing Carth, Trask, Avner, and Bastila alive and unharmed was short-lived, overshadowed by a creeping unease that settled upon him.


    Though the danger had passed, for now, facing down Revan left Tyson uncomfortable in a way he could not fully explain.


    He wondered if it had come to blows, would Revan have had the advantage despite lacking active access to the Force? Or would it be Tyson, who had rudimentary command over its power with the edge? When he first arrived on the Endar Spire and Avner carved a path through their foes, Tyson supported him, riding on Revan''s coattails. Then, and still now, doubts plagued his thoughts. Did he need Avner anymore? Was allowing Revan to live worth the risk of him returning to the dark side? Through the Force, Tyson sensed the immense potential within the man. Tyson knew with chilling certainty that he could end Revan here and now if he wished. He had grown stronger, while Revan remained diminished.


    Before his thoughts could spiral further down that dark path, a soft voice at his side pulled him back. "Calm yourself. You''re broadcasting your emotions through the Force, putting everyone on edge." Alysia whispered, "There''s no danger here. These are our allies."


    Tyson bit back a bitter laugh. No threat? Either Alysia was blind to the truth or... she did not know Avner''s true identity. Tyson said nothing, struggling to relax his anxiety. Yet there was time enough to determine what must be done about Revan.


    The large group trekked to the Upper City, their spirits high after their reunion. Tyson led the way to the hotel where he had previously been granted a complimentary room, assuming that his new status as the dueling champion would ensure they continued the royal treatment.


    As they entered the lobby, a receptionist''s eyes widened in recognition. She approached him, her voice polite but urgent. "Sir, please can you come with me for a moment? Your party can enjoy a complimentary drink at the bar."


    Tyson, sensing no ill intent from the receptionist agreed. However, he couldn''t help but notice the young woman''s edginess as she escorted him through a staff-only door. Once they were alone, the receptionist''s demeanor shifted, her voice dropping to a hushed whisper. "The Sith came here looking for you. I''m sorry, but this establishment can''t accommodate your group. The soldiers claimed that you attacked one of their guards."


    The consequences of his impulsive actions in the Lower City were catching up to him. The Sith were looking for him, undoubtedly eager to bring him to justice for his attack on their guard. Tyson cursed himself for his recklessness. He had been so focused on getting to the swoop race to rescue Bastila, that he hadn''t considered the long-term ramifications of his actions.


    And now, he was a wanted man.


    But the receptionist wasn''t finished. "Ajuur the Hutt sent a representative to find you." Tyson suppressed a groan. Of course, the Hutt would be looking for him too. The receptionist could barely contain her excitement as she revealed, "Bendak Starkiller, the undefeated Mandalorian champion, wants to fight you in a duel to the death!"


    Tyson blinked in surprise. Bendak Starkiller''s reputation preceded him. Even Marl had spoken of the vicious, bloodthirsty killer who had never lost a duel. And now, the old champion wanted to challenge Tyson, the new champion.


    Tyson''s first instinct was to refuse, to put as much distance between himself and the dueling ring as possible. He had already won the championship. What more did he have to gain by risking his life in a fight against a legendary warrior like Bendak? But even as the thought crossed his mind, Tyson knew the answer.


    Bendak was Mandalorian. If Tyson killed him, he could claim the Mandalorian''s armor.


    The receptionist continued, her excitement was palpable even through the hushed tones of their conversation. "If you win you''ll get to collect his bounty too. It''s 20,000 credits! You should fight. It''d be epic!"


    On the one hand, he knew that fighting a duel to the death was a terrible idea. He had responsibilities and had people counting on him. Bastila, Carth, Trask, Mission, Zaalbar, Alysia... they all needed him¡­ or did they? Now that the entire group was reunited, Avner should be able to get them off the planet. Tyson had his misgivings about Revan, but were they justified? Tyson struggled to recall the specifics of Knights of the Old Republic, but the overall story came back to him. Revan was a Jedi who had fallen to the dark side. His friend and apprentice Malak had betrayed him. After losing his memory, Revan had been retrained as a Jedi and defeated Malak. As far as Tyson could tell, this universe aligned with the canon version of the games. In Knights of the Old Republic, the player could choose whether Revan was male or female and follow either the light or dark side through their actions. But if Tyson remembered correctly, the canonical Revan should be light side. If that held here, Tyson could trust the man.


    The lure of the final duel didn''t lie in the challenge or the thrill of competition. Moreso the opportunity to gain the Mandalorian armor Bendak wore to add to his Gray Goo Suit. But Tyson also considered that in this era, there were many Mandalorians. He didn''t need Bendak''s armor necessarily, there were plenty of scattered Mandalorian raiders during this period. But Bendak was accessible, challenged Tyson, and as a bonus had a bounty on his head.


    Alysia would disapprove of him risking his life in a death match, or taking a life in cold blood. Though she accepted his dueling as a necessary evil, he knew that a fight to the death would be beyond what she would tolerate. With Bastila now accompanying them, Alysia would surely try to dissuade Tyson from such a reckless course.


    Tyson reached into his pocket, pulling out a handful of credits, and pressing them into the receptionist''s palm. "Thank you for the information," he said, "I appreciate you taking the risk to tell me this."


    The receptionist nodded, "Of course, sir. I just... I thought you should know."


    "Make sure you bet on me," Tyson commented as he turned and left the room.


    He approached the bar where his companions were gathered. After the group acknowledged his presence, the Grey Goo Suit formed a protective helmet around his head. The design was reminiscent of a Sith style, but with enough unique flourishes to avoid drawing undue attention. With his features obscured, Tyson addressed the group, his voice clear despite the helmet. "We have a problem. I attacked a Sith guard when I was rushing to the Lower City. Now they''re searching for me. We won''t be able to stay here."


    Mission shrugged off the news with a casual air. "The Sith have been looking for Bastila too, it''s not a big deal. We already have one fugitive in our group."


    But Tyson shook his head, "The difference is, only the Sith know what Bastila looks like, to everyone else, she''s just a name. Thanks to my duels, my face has been broadcast across the planet for the past few days. The Sith guard noticed me, and the receptionist picked me out the second I came in through the doors."


    Alysia spoke up. "We need a plan to get off this planet. We can''t stay here."


    Mission chimed in. "That''s what I''m talking about. Me and Big Z have been saying it was time to blow this place."


    To Tyson''s surprise, it was Avner who spoke next. The usually taciturn man, who had barely uttered a word since their awakening on the Endar Spire.


    "That''s what he''s here for." He pointed at the man who had joined them recently during their quick stop at the Lower City cantina.


    The man radiated confidence. "My name''s Canderous Ordo," he introduced himself. "I work for Davik Kang and the Exchange. The hours aren''t great, but they promised me a fortune to work for them, and I have nothing better to do. Mandalorian mercs like me are in high demand." He crossed his burly arms. "But lately Davik hasn''t been paying me what he promised. I don''t like getting cheated, so I figure it''s time for me to break the Sith quarantine and get off this backwater planet."


    Canderous regarded them steadily as he continued. "I''ve got a plan to escape Taris, but I can''t do it alone. I need someone I know can get the job done to help me. That''s where you come in."


    Carth''s eyes narrowed in suspicion. "Careful," he warned. "Mercs like this haven''t a lick of conscience. They''ll betray you in a heartbeat. This could be a trap."


    Bastila agreed, "You don''t need to ally yourself with this...person," she said, distaste coloring her tone. "We should move on while we can."


    Canderous scowled, bristling at their words. "I ain''t talking to you," he snapped. "I''m talking to your friends here, aren''t I?" He jabbed a finger toward Avner and Tyson. "I saw you win that swoop race, and you''re the dueling ring champion. I figured anyone crazy enough to race like that or take down Twitch is probably crazy enough to break into the Sith military base."


    He focused intently on the two men. "I need someone to steal the Sith launch codes from the base. Without those codes, any ship leaving the atmosphere will be disintegrated by the Sith fleet''s automated defense guns."


    Canderous squared his shoulders, "Here''s the deal. You bring me those launch codes and I can provide the vehicle to get off the planet. Davik''s flagship, the Ebon Hawk!"


    Avner''s eyes narrowed. "How would we even get inside a Sith base?" he asked.


    "Getting in won''t be easy," Canderous admitted. "The Sith base is protected by an encrypted security system. It would take a top-of-the-line astromech droid to slice through it." A sly grin spread across his face. "Lucky for you I know just the place to get a droid like that. Davik had one custom-built by Janice Nall. She runs a shop here in the Upper City. Just tell her Canderous sent you and she''ll sell you the droid. Then you can use it to get the launch codes from the Sith base."


    He leaned forward eagerly. "Normally I''d do this myself, but everyone knows who I work for. If I broke into the Sith base, they''d send an army down on Davik''s estate to get those codes back. That''s why I need you."


    Carth pursed his lips thoughtfully. "Hmm. Much as I hate to say it, he''s probably right. We''re going to need that ship."


    "I don''t sense any deception from him, which is surprising," Bastila admitted.


    The group fell silent for a moment, the weight of their predicament sinking in. They were effectively trapped on a planet crawling with Sith, and this Mandalorian mercenary just offered them a plan of escape.


    The gears turned in Tyson''s head as he considered their options. "Okay," he said at last, "Here''s what we''re going to do. We need those clearance codes. We''re never going to be able to slip into a Sith base with a group this size without a frontal assault, setting off every alarm they have, and announcing that we have Jedi with us. We need to split up."


    Tyson turned to Avner, Carth, and Trask. "You did an incredible job rescuing Bastila and remaining under the radar. You should continue to do so. Since I''m wanted and well known, my presence will only complicate things." Avner and Carth exchanged a glance, before nodding in agreement.


    Tyson addressed Mission and Zaalbar next, "You know the Lower City best. Keep all these guys out of trouble."


    Mission saluted then said, "Sure thing, boss. If that''s what it takes to get off this rock."


    Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings.


    Next, he spoke to the Jedi, "Alysia, you''ve been with us searching for Bastila the entire time. I know that your mission was to protect her, and now you can do that. I think this is where we part ways. With Avner the rest of the group, you should be able to stay safe and hidden. The Sith are looking for Bastila, the last thing we should do is bring her into one of their bases."


    "Vicky will come with me. I''ll draw as much attention to myself as I can, and keep the Sith occupied. We''ll get the droid and go after those clearance codes. I have a set of Sith armor so it shouldn''t be hard to infiltrate their base."


    Vicky gave Tyson a look of concern. "Are you sure we should be splitting up?"


    Tyson placed a hand on her shoulder, "We will be fine, I promise."


    With the plan set, before the group began to disperse, Tyson spoke one last time. "Hey, everyone... be careful out there. Watch each other''s backs. We''re in this together, and we''re going to get through it together. We''ll meet back up at the Lower City Cantina. That''s close enough that you can lay low with the Hidden Becks if you need to, but I''m sure Mission and Big Z have that covered."


    The ragtag band began to go their separate ways. No other farewells were uttered as Tyson watched his friends fan out into the streets. For now, he turned his mind to his priorities. He would do his part, and then make his way to the rendezvous at the Lower City Cantina.


    But he had to fight first.


    Episode: Star Wars Knights of the Old Republic - The Search for Bastila Shan Complete!


    +50 RP


    Reality Points: 150


    ¡ª Star Jumper ¡ª


    Tyson took stock of his credits. After winning numerous duels, placing bets on himself in the arena, and negotiating a favorable deal with Ajuur, Tyson had amassed a small fortune of 40,000 credits. He had given 1,000 credits each to Mission and Avner for their respective groups, but that barely made a dent.


    One reason Tyson decided to split from the others was to avoid any objections to his next move. Accepting Bendak Starkiller''s challenge to a duel to the death. But first, he wanted to verify something. With the rest of the group dispersed, Tyson and Vicky headed to a nearby door. Tyson slid his Access Key into the slot, and instead of a bathroom, they stepped into Tyson''s Personal Reality. He quickly closed the door before anyone noticed.


    Tyson mentally chided himself for not using his access card this way earlier. If he had used it the first time he had gone to the Lower City, he could have avoided the trouble of the Sith guard when he''d tried to return. And they wouldn''t have had to worry about the current bounty on his head. Not to mention, he might have arrived before the start of the swoop race. But no use dwelling on past mistakes. Lesson learned.


    He turned to Vicky, who had been observing him with curiosity. "The receptionist in the hotel informed me that a Mandalorian named Bendak Starkiller wants to fight in a duel to the death... he''s got a bounty on his head. twenty-thousand credits."


    "I worry for your safety. My primary¡­ my deepest desire, is to protect you. The thought of you facing such a formidable opponent, with your life on the line..."


    Tyson reached out, taking her hands in his, "I know you want to protect me, Vicky. And I appreciate that. But this is something I have to do. " He squeezed her hands, trying to convey the depth of his conviction through touch alone. "Trust that I can handle this, that I can come out on top."


    For a long moment, she was silent, then, slowly, she nodded. "I do trust you, Master. With all that I am. If this is what you feel you must do, then I will support you."


    Tyson and Vicky stepped back through the doorway, transitioning from the Personal Reality to the more mundane surroundings of the hotel. With a final glance to ensure they hadn''t been noticed, Tyson pocketed the Access Key and led the way out of the hotel, Vicky following close behind.


    As they entered the Dueling building, Tyson made a beeline for the Hutt who presided over the fights. Tyson strode confidently into Ajuur''s chamber, the Hutt''s bulbous eyes tracking his every move. "Tyson, my boy!" Ajuur rumbled in Huttese. "Have you come to accept Bendak''s challenge? To fight the Mandalorian in a duel to the death?"


    "That''s right, Ajuur," Tyson replied smoothly.


    Ajuur''s lipless mouth curled into a grotesque approximation of a smile. "Excellent! I will make the necessary preparations." The Hutt began to turn away, his attention already shifting to the logistics of the upcoming battle. But Tyson held up a hand, halting him in his tracks.


    "Not so fast, Ajuur," Tyson said, his tone brooking no argument. "let''s talk business." The Hutt''s eyes narrowed, but he gestured for Tyson to continue, curiosity and greed warring in his expression. "When I win, I want all of Bendak''s gear. His armor, his weapons, everything. It''s mine."


    Ajuur considered this for a moment, his massive head tilting in thought. "Ho ho! Bold, aren''t we?" he rumbled. "But not unreasonable."


    Tyson met the Hutt''s gaze steadily. "His share. I want another twenty percent of the winnings. That''s on top of my usual cut. When he''s dead, he won''t need it."


    Ajuur''s laughter abruptly ceased. He leaned forward, bringing his massive head close to Tyson. "Twenty percent? You ask a lot, boy," he growled.


    Unfazed, Tyson crossed his arms. "Take it or leave it, Ajuur. I''m the one putting my neck on the line."


    For a tense moment, the Hutt glowered. But it was quickly replaced by a calculating look, the wheels of profit and loss turning behind those reptilian eyes.


    "Your terms are accepted. Defeat Bendak Starkiller, and his gear and his share are yours." Ajuur said, his tone grudging but accepting.


    ¡ª Star Jumper ¡ª


    Tyson stood alone in the center of the arena, the durasteel floor was hard beneath his boots as he stared across at his opponent. Bendak Starkiller loomed like a specter of death, his polished Mandalorian armor masking any hint of emotion.


    A hush fell over the roaring crowd as the announcer''s voice boomed through the stadium. "Ladies and gentlemen," he began, a somber note hanging on his words, "Today we bear witness to a fight for the ages. A clash between two champions."


    The announcer continued, his voice rising. "On one side, we have our prodigal champion, Bendak Starkiller! Undefeated, relentless, a reaper of the arena!"


    The crowd erupted into a deafening roar as Bendak raised a gauntleted hand, the polished beskar of his armor glinting under the harsh lights of the arena. Tyson tightened his grip on his vibroblade. He knew the deadly reputation of the man before him, but he would not falter. For better or worse, this battle would end only one way.


    With one of them dead.


    The announcer''s voice carried over the deafening cheers of the crowd. "But on the other side, we have our newest star, a duelist who has proven himself time and time again in this very arena. A man who has climbed to the top, defeating all who stood in his path."


    The crowd erupted again, their cheers and chants of Tyson''s name echoing through the battle arena. Tyson raised a hand in acknowledgment, his gaze fixed unwaveringly on the Mandalorian warrior across the arena floor.


    "Ladies and gentlemen, I give you, Tyson!" shouted the announcer. The crowd roared in anticipation, the air electric with excitement. Tyson tuned out the noise, focusing only on Bendak. "The rules are simple," the announcer continued, his voice booming through the sound system. "A death match, no holds barred. May the best fighter win!"


    "Three...two...one..." the announcer drew out the moment as long as he could.


    "Fight!" The word exploded through the silent coliseum.


    Bendak Starkiller didn''t hesitate. He proved the Mandalorian reputation for ruthlessness was well-founded from the very start of the fight. Drawing a plasma grenade from his belt, he sent it arcing through the air, at Tyson. But Tyson was no ordinary fighter. The Force screamed a warning, surging through him. With a burst of speed that defied belief, Tyson launched himself to the side, the Force propelling him just ahead of the grenade''s devastating blast. The explosion rocked the arena, a wave of heat and noise that washed over Tyson like a physical thing. But he had no time to revel in his narrow escape. Bendak was already moving, his hand reaching for another plasma grenade.


    Tyson reacted on instinct, his blaster pistol leaping into his hand with a speed that bordered on supernatural. Even as the grenade left Bendak''s grip, Tyson''s finger was tightening on the trigger, his aim guided by Master with your Hands, his Augment focus, and the Force itself.


    The blaster bolt streaked through the air, colliding with the plasma grenade at the perfect moment. The resulting explosion was a shockwave that sent Bendak flying backward, his armor the only thing saving him from being immolated.


    But even as the Mandalorian hit the ground, he was already recovering, his beskar armor absorbing the worst of the blast. Bendak regained his feet, his blaster pistol appearing in his hand.


    And then, the arena erupted into a storm of blaster fire, the two combatants trading shots with a speed and precision that left the audience gasping in awe. Tyson''s blaster seemed to move of its own accord, each bolt aimed at the weak points in Bendak''s armor.


    But the Mandalorian''s beskar held strong, the alloy shrugging off Tyson''s attacks like raindrops off a roof. Even as Tyson scored hit after hit, Bendak remained unharmed, his shots coming perilously close to finding their mark.


    It was a strange stalemate, Tyson was able to evade Bendak''s attacks, thanks to the Force whispering warnings and guiding his movements, while his attacks landed, but couldn''t penetrate Bendak''s armor. Tyson searched for a way to break the deadlock.


    He reached out to the Force once more, letting its power flow through him like a conduit. He felt its tug, its guidance as it drew him toward Bendack, urging him to close in against his opponent.


    With a burst of speed that left even Bendak startled, Tyson closed the distance between them, his blaster pistol was no longer his greatest threat as he raised his vibrosword. The Mandalorian, caught off guard by the sudden shift in tactics, barely had time to bring his armored forearm up to block before Tyson was on him.


    The clash was all sparks and screeching metal, the two warriors straining against each other. Bendak reached back during the stalemate and grabbed his vibrosword.


    Tyson was not a formally trained swordsman. However, thanks to his Force Specialization: Intelligence perk, he had gained an intuitive understanding of Shii-Cho, the first form of lightsaber combat developed by the ancient Jedi. Shii-Cho''s movements were adapted from traditional sword fighting techniques. As he crossed blades with Bendak, Tyson flowed between the sweeping slashes and thrusts of Shii-Cho. He gave ground before Bendak''s slash, then pivoted and riposted faster than the eye could follow. Bendak was surprised by Tyson''s skill, the Mandalorian''s heavy armor barely turning aside blows that would have crippled a lesser warrior.


    But Bendak was no novice either. As Tyson pressed the attack, Bendak adjusted to his opponent''s style, blocking the strikes he could not evade. With a roar, he went on the offensive, blades crashing as the two fighters dueled back and forth across the arena sands. The crowd cheered wildly at the display.


    Additionally, Tyson had the Force as his ally. It guided his movements, almost as if he were a passenger as his body was led through the slashes, parries, and thrusts. With a final, wrenching twist of his wrist, he sent Bendak''s sword flying from his grip.


    The Mandalorian, disarmed, watched as Tyson''s blade halted a hairsbreadth from his throat. For a long, tense moment, the only sound was the heaving of their breaths. Tyson spoke the words that he believed would seal his victory.


    "Yield," he commanded, his tone brooking no argument. "Yield, and live another day."


    For a heartbeat, Bendak seemed to teeter on the precipice of surrender, his hands slowly lowering to his sides in acquiescence. But in a sudden, snake-like motion, the Mandalorian''s hands darted to his belt, fingers closing around the smooth, cold surface of his last plasma grenade.


    Bendak dove to the side as Tyson''s vibroblade slashed through the space he had just occupied. Tyson''s eyes widened in dismay, realizing the trap he had fallen into. The Mandalorian hurled the explosive towards Tyson with an underhand throw.


    Tyson knew the grenade''s blast would surely catch Bendak in its radius, beskar armor or not. But the Mandalorian seemed willing to sacrifice himself if it meant taking Tyson with him and hoping his armor would offer enough protection that he''d survive. Time slowed to a crawl as the grenade spun through the air, only feet from Tyson.


    Tyson berated himself for the arrogance that had led him to believe he''d been victorious too soon. And the foolishness that he''d offered a Mandalorian his life. Mercy was a weakness in battle.


    Tyson reached out to the Force, focusing his mind on the spinning grenade. With an exertion of will, he used his telekinetic powers to halt the explosive''s trajectory and reverse its course, sending it hurtling back toward the man who had thrown it. Bendak had only a split second to realize what was happening before the grenade detonated against his beskar armor in a blinding wall of light and sound. The explosion engulfed the Mandalorian, ravaging the area around him with shrapnel and roiling flames. Tyson called upon the Force again, willing it to grant him supernatural speed to evade the blast radius. He darted away just as the grenade exploded, the world seeming to slow around him as he narrowly avoided the brunt of the fiery detonation.


    As the roar and fury of the blast began to subside, Tyson turned back toward Bendak, blinking to clear the smoke from his eyes. The Mandalorian warrior lay unmoving upon the ground, his once-pristine beskar armor now scorched and battered nearly beyond recognition.


    Tyson slowly approached the fallen man, stopping to stand over Bendak. He took in the extent of the damage. The beskar appeared intact, but the plasma grenade''s explosion had taken its toll, burning away the underweave of Bendak''s armor and fusing the molten remnants to the warrior''s skin. The sight was gruesome. Tyson watched as Bendak struggled to rise.


    Blood bubbled from his lips as he spoke, "To think," Bendak rasped, "you had an energy shield this whole time and didn''t activate it until that moment." He coughed, spitting blood. "Very clever. I''ve never seen anyone extend an energy shield to reflect a grenade. Probably as good an engineer as you are a fighter."


    Despite his grievous injuries, the warrior''s eyes glinted with amusement and respect. Tyson knew better than to underestimate the Mandalorian, even in his weakened state.


    Fool me once¡­


    As if in response to his caution, the Force whispered a warning in his mind, a premonition of danger that set his nerves alight. Without conscious thought, his blaster pistol snapped up, his finger tightening on the trigger even as his eyes registered the glint of metal in Bendak''s off-hand.


    The Mandalorian had been attempting to use his body to shield his hidden blaster in a last-ditch effort to turn the tables on his opponent. But the Force had once again proven itself Tyson''s ally, warning him of the danger.


    The blaster bolt struck true, the weapon spinning from Bendak''s grasp as the smell of charred flesh filled the air. The Mandalorian let out a grunt of pain, his body slumping forward as the last of his strength deserted him.


    Tyson closed the distance between them, his steps measured and deliberate. Bendak was on his hands and knees now, his head bowed in a posture that might have been mistaken for submission were it not for the defiant set of his shoulders.


    Looking down at the fallen warrior, at the scorch marks and melted underweave that marred his once-proud armor, Tyson knew that Bendaks end was at hand. The time for mercy had passed. The duel had been fought, and the outcome was decided. All that remained was the final stroke, the coup de grace that would send the Mandalorian to whatever afterlife awaited him.


    With a sense of grim purpose, Tyson raised his vibrosword. He could feel the weight of the moment pressing down upon him. He''d killed others since he arrived, hadn''t he? Why did this feel so different?


    Instead of dwelling on the moment, with a final, decisive thrust, Tyson brought the vibrosword down, the razor-sharp edge finding the gap between the beskar plates and helmet with unerring accuracy. Bendak''s body jerked once, a final, reflexive twitch, and then went still as his spirit fled its mortal shell.


    The crowd''s reaction was a distant roar, a cacophony of shock and awe that washed over Tyson like a breaking wave. But he paid it no heed, his attention focused solely on the fallen warrior at his feet.


    He had done it. He had defeated Bendak Starkiller and had claimed the bounty and the glory that came with it. But in that moment, something felt wrong. Tyson hadn''t felt like he''d gained anything from that fight. He felt like he''d lost something, something important, that he''d never get back.


    The coliseum crowd erupted into a frenzy of cheers and gasps, the sheer magnitude of Tyson''s victory echoing off the durasteel walls. He stood tall, unmoving at the center of the arena. The announcer''s voice boomed out over the tumultuous uproar, reverberating throughout the coliseum. "Ladies and gentlemen!" he proclaimed, a distinct edge of disbelief in his tone. "What we have witnessed here today is nothing short of extraordinary! This newcomer, this underdog, this outsider to our arena...he has done what no one thought possible! He has defeated the legendary Bendak Starkiller himself!"


    The crowd roared even louder at the pronouncement. The announcer''s voice grew more impassioned as he continued. "Bendak Starkiller! A name that echoes throughout the ages of dueling history! His reputation was that of an invincible warrior. Yet today, before all our eyes, he has been struck down!"


    "Remember this day!" the announcer implored the spectators. "Tell your children and your grandchildren that you were here! That you witnessed the impossible become a reality! That you saw the moment when new blood triumphed over the old guard. When a new star was born in our arena!"


    His voice rang with conviction as he concluded, "What we have seen today encapsulates the true spirit of the duel! The excitement, the risk, the glory! Let it be known that on this day, Tyson carved his name into the annals of Taris forevermore!"


    Episode: Star Wars Knights of the Old Republic - Starkiller¡­ killer. Complete!


    +50 RP


    Reality Points: 200


    <hr>


    Tyson


    Origins: Human, Humanoid, Drop-In, Space Pirate, Bad Guy


    Race: Augment Human-Betazoid (Hybrid)


    Character Points: 1050, 600 (Vicky)


    Reality Points: 200


    Ship Points: 1400


    Credits: 40,000


    Status Effects: (none)


    Drawbacks:


    Gauntlet (Locked)


    Ensign Marty Stu


    A Simple Re''Q''uest


    Hybrid (Betazoid)


    Amok Time/Blood Fever


    Outlawed


    The Voyager Problem


    Perks:


    Cosmic Awareness


    Out of Nowhere


    Going Native


    Live and Let Live


    This is (Not?) Rocket Science


    Kinda Bland


    Determinator


    Painted On


    Snakeskin


    Adaptable


    Duelist


    Master with your Hands


    Best of the Best


    Everything Is A Weapon


    Augment


    Force Specialization: Intelligence


    Tactical Info


    Sever Force


    Items:


    Laser Blade


    Spacesuit


    Agony Booth


    Cloaking Minefield


    Lightsaber


    Gray Goo Suit


    Companions:


    (Vicky) V-KO IV Nursedroid, Artificial Intelligence Upgrade


    Personal Reality:


    Access Key


    Security System


    High-Security Inter-Reality Connecting Door (Star Trek Enterprise)


    Medical Bay


    High-Security Inter-Reality Connecting Door (Star Wars Knights of the Old Republic)


    Key Link


    Housing Complex


    Basic Nutrition


    Spaceships:


    Tramp Freighter (Destroyed - Respawn on 02/28/2365)


    Sith Interceptor

 Season 1: Episode 6.2 - Clearance Codes

    Episode 6.2 - Clearance Codes


    Stardate: 4 1 1 6 8.2


    Earth Standard Date: March 02, 2364.


    Galactic Date: 21st Day of the Second Month, 3956 BBY


    Location: Upper City, Taris, Star Wars Knights of the Old Republic Continuity


    Tyson strode out of the dueling arena. The adrenaline of the fight was slowly fading, replaced by a cold, calculating awareness of the risks he now faced. He was no fool. The duel with Bendak, broadcast as it was across the planet, had put a target on his back. The Sith were already searching for him after his altercation with their guard and would redouble their efforts to capture him. And then there was the matter of Taris laws. Duels to the death were strictly forbidden by the authorities. It was this prohibition that had driven Bendak into retirement in the first place, and now Tyson had brazenly flouted that law in front of a planet-wide audience.


    But even as he considered the dangers that now loomed over him, Tyson felt a flicker of grim satisfaction. His actions, reckless as they might have been, served a greater purpose. By making himself a clear and present target, he had hoped to draw the Sith''s attention away from their search for Bastila. Every resource they diverted to hunting him down was one less resource dedicated to finding the Jedi. In that sense, his gambit had already paid off.


    And Tyson was far from unprepared for the consequences of his actions.


    As he walked out of the arena, the Grey Goo Suit, began to shift and change to match his pre-programmed desire. The nanobots that comprised its structure rearranged themselves, the suit''s appearance morphing to mimic the distinctive silver-chrome armor plates and black underweave of the Sith. By the time Tyson reached the staging area, he was indistinguishable from one of the Sith troopers themselves. A fact that proved immediately advantageous, as he found himself face to face with a platoon of Sith soldiers, clearly lying in wait for the dueling champion.


    The Sith group was surprised by the sudden appearance of what appeared to be one of their own. Tyson seized the opportunity, his voice ringing out with an air of faux authority, leaning on the Force.


    "I just checked the arena," he barked, his tone clipped and urgent. "He''s gone! The champion must have escaped another way."


    The platoon leader reacted without hesitation, his orders rapid and precise. "You four, into the arena. Search for other ways out. You four, go to the Hutt and question him again. The rest with me, we''re going to tear that bar and the rest of this arena apart. No one leaves the building until we have the duelist."


    As the leader divided his men into smaller teams, dispatching them to scour the premises for any trace of the elusive champion, Tyson stood rigidly to the side, face obscured behind the mask of his Sith disguise. Inwardly, he smiled at the effectiveness of his deception; the way the Grey Goo Suit allowed him to seamlessly blend into the ranks of his enemies. This was going even better than he could have hoped. The Sith were playing right into his hands, scattering their forces on a fruitless search while he walked freely among them. Sometimes the best place to hide was in plain sight.


    But he knew he couldn''t afford to rest. The Sith were nothing if not relentless, and they would not stop until they had him. He needed to keep moving, to stay one step ahead of the net that was even now closing around him.


    As the Sith platoon dispersed, each team moving with the purpose of a well-oiled machine, Tyson slipped away, his steps measured and unhurried. To any outside observer, he was just another Sith trooper, going about his duties, the same as his comrades. But beneath the disguise, Tyson was already plotting his next move.


    With his identity still concealed beneath the guise of a Sith trooper, approached Vicky with purposeful strides. "You, droid, come with me."


    Vicky, playing her role to perfection, merely inclined her head in acquiescence, falling into step behind Tyson as he led the way out of the dueling building. The nurse droid showed no outward sign of surprise or recognition as Tyson pointed at her. To any outside observer, it would appear as nothing more than a Sith soldier commandeering a droid for some unknown purpose. But beneath the surface, a silent understanding passed between them. Vicky''s enhanced AI allowed her to interface with Tyson''s Grey Goo Suit, she knew that it was her master requesting her to join him, not some faceless Sith trying to detain her.


    As they stepped out into the bustling streets, Vicky maintained her usual appearance, her sleek and unassuming form drawing no undue attention. Tyson, on the other hand, altered his armor. The design was nondescript, lacking any overt Mandalorian or Sith styling. The last thing they wanted was to attract unwanted scrutiny, especially given the Sith''s active pursuit of Tyson.


    Together, they made their way through the Upper City, navigating the crowded thoroughfares until they reached their destination


    Janice Nall''s droid shop.


    The shop was a modest establishment, its storefront adorned with flickering holographic displays showcasing various droids and components. As Tyson and Vicky entered, they were greeted by the gentle whirring and beeping of the shop''s wares.


    Janice Nall, a green-skinned Twi''lek with an eager smile, stepped forward to welcome them. "A customer? Come in, come in," she said, her voice warm and inviting. "Janice Nall at your service. Welcome to my droid and droid supply shop. Always good to see a new face. Customers are hard to come by. A lot of the Taris citizens won''t even come in here because they refuse to shop at a store owned by a Twi''lek."


    Tyson asked, "What do they have against Twi''lek?" as he looked around the shop, taking in the assortment of droids and components on display. Janice''s smile faded, and she sighed before responding.


    "They don''t like aliens much here in Upper Taris," she explained, "They tolerate us, but they''d rather see us as dancers in the cantina than successful business owners. You''ll see a few aliens around, but most of the non-humans stick to the Lower City." She shook her head, lekku swaying. "I''ve learned not to dwell on it, though. I try to stay focused on running my store." She gestured around the shop. "My selection is a bit limited right now. The Sith confiscated all my assault droids. But I''ve got a utility droid you might find interesting."


    Tyson''s gaze swept over the inventory, taking in the array of droids and components on display. He spotted a selection of compact droids with distinctive dome-shaped heads.


    "I was sent by Canderous Ordo to pick up a droid for Davik Kang," Tyson said. "Is it ready?"


    "T3-H4!" Janice called out. One of the utility droids wheeled over from its section to join them.


    "That''ll be 50 credits," Janice told him.


    Tyson handed over the credits without hesitation. He turned to Vicky. "Can you copy its programming?"


    Vicky nodded, then leaned down toward the utility droid. She politely asked if she could access its memory. The droid responded with a series of beeps and whirs. Vicky''s data port extended from her belt like a tail and interfaced with the droid. After a minute, she straightened up and turned to Tyson.


    "Beep boop," she said, perfectly mimicking the droid''s binary language.


    Tyson''s eyes widened in surprise before Vicky laughed, the sound melodic and teasing. "Got you!" she said. Even Janice laughed at the joke, and Tyson found himself chuckling as well.


    "You can keep the droid," Tyson told Janice, still smiling. "We just needed its slicing ability. We don''t need the unit itself. Hopefully, you can make some more profits from it. Consider it reparations for how shitty humans have been to you."


    Janice smiled gratefully. "Thank you," she said. "That''s very kind of you."


    Tyson turned his gaze to the shop''s selection of droid upgrades. "What kind of enhancements do you have available?" he asked Janice.


    Vicky sidled up beside him, scanning the components on display. She frowned as she assessed each upgrade. The selection was sparse, limited to only the most basic targeting computers and minor performance tweaks. Disappointment flickered across the droid''s features.


    One upgrade caught Tyson''s attention. A basic targeting computer priced at 500 credits. While not an advanced piece of technology, Tyson recognized the potential value in augmenting Vicky with combat capabilities, even incrementally. While she was a true AI, her base programming was built around a nursedroid with no combat applications.


    "We''ll take the targeting computer," Tyson declared, passing the credits over to Janice''s outstretched palm.


    The Twi''lek nodded and held out a dataport for Vicky to interface with. Vicky''s eyes blinked rapidly as she downloaded the new software. Within a minute she installed the upgrade and new targeting protocols integrated into her systems.


    Tyson had hoped to enhance Vicky with upgrades that could substantially elevate her already impressive abilities. But Taris was firmly in the Sith''s grip, and the planet suffered for it. Tyson knew that the meager selection was merely another symptom of the Sith blockade, made worse by Janice''s reveal that they''d confiscated her combat-capable droids.


    Together, Tyson and Vicky made their way through the streets of the Upper City, Tyson''s disguise granting them unhindered passage through the checkpoints and patrols that stood between them and their destination.


    The Sith base.


    As they entered the lobby serving as the center of the Sith operations on Taris, Tyson''s attention was immediately drawn to the lone receptionist, a yellow-skinned Twi''lek woman who sat behind the desk with an air of dejected resignation. Even without his empathic abilities, Tyson could sense the misery that radiated from her in almost palpable waves.


    For a moment, he considered his original plan, to neutralize the receptionist before she could raise the alarm and compromise his infiltration. But as he looked upon her, taking in the weariness and despair that seemed to hang over her like a shroud, he found himself hesitating. She was not a loyal servant of the Sith, not a true believer in their cause. She was a victim, a pawn caught up in the machinations of those who held power over her. To add to the suffering she had already endured, would be an act of cruelty that Tyson could not bring himself to commit.


    Instead, he made a decision, a gamble born of compassion. Approaching the desk, he leaned in close, his voice a conspiratorial whisper as he disabled the voice modulator of his suit. "I''ll give you 1,000 credits if you leave now."


    The Twi''lek''s eyes widened, her gaze darting between Tyson''s inscrutable mask and the credit chip he held out in offering. For a moment, suspicion warred with desperate hope in her expression, the ingrained fear of the Sith''s retribution battling against the tantalizing promise of credits.


    Lowering her voice to match Tyson''s hushed tone, she replied, "1,000 credits? You''ve got a deal. The Sith have made my life a living hell ever since they took over this place. It''s about time someone stood up to them." A flicker of gratitude passed over her features, a silent acknowledgment of the risk Tyson was taking on her behalf. "Just do me a favor and wait until I''m out of here before you start blasting the place up."


    Tyson nodded in understanding and agreement. The Twi''lek took the proffered credit chip. And then, with a final, furtive glance around the lobby, she was gone, slipping out the door and into the bustling streets beyond.


    Tyson and Vicky were alone now, the reception area empty save for the hum of the computer terminals and the distant echo of booted feet on polished floors. Vicky turned to Tyson, her expression thoughtful as she studied him. "It was kind of you to warn her and give her a chance to leave," she remarked, her tone filled with genuine approval.


    Tyson, still clad in the disguise of a Sith trooper, shrugged. "No one seems to like the Sith here," he replied, "I could tell she was only working with them for her survival."


    He moved towards the reception terminal, the screen casting an icy blue glow across his masked features. With deft movements, his fingers danced across the keys. But the lines of encrypted code that scrolled across the screen left him at a loss. For all his skills in combat and strategy, Tyson was no hacker. The intricacies of slicing into a secured network were beyond his expertise.


    It was then that Vicky stepped up beside him, "Allow me?" she offered. Tyson, curious to see the depth of her capabilities after the artificial intelligence upgrade, stepped aside. Vicky, rather than attempting to access the terminal through conventional means, extended a tail-like cord from her belt. She connected the cord directly to one of the terminal''s ports. Instantly, the screen came alive with a flurry of activity, lines of code, and command prompts flashing by at dizzying speeds. Tyson watched in fascination as Vicky worked, her AI mind interfacing seamlessly with the Sith''s systems. One by one, she disabled the security protocols and sentry droids, stripping away the layers of defense that protected the base. The cameras were next, their feeds looped and altered to create a false image of normalcy, allowing them to move unseen and without leaving records of their infiltration.


    It was a masterful display of the advanced capabilities of Vicky''s enhancement. Tyson marveled at the ease with which Vicky infiltrated the Sith''s systems and bent it to her will...


    Yet even as Tyson marveled at Vicky''s skills, a small knot of apprehension formed in his gut, the concept of a sentient AI with such mastery over computer systems was incredible, but also concerning when he considered how much power she potentially wielded. If she ever turned against him, could he stop her?


    He shook his head slightly, banishing the thought. Whatever reservations stirred in him about the nature of Vicky''s existence, she had proven herself a steadfast ally and friend. She was committed to him, using her talents to help rather than harm. Tyson trusted her, and he trusted that she was a Companion, not a Drawback. There would be time later to grapple with the philosophical and ethical dilemmas posed by her evolution. She was a partner, and he would treat her as such.


    Pushing aside his doubts, Tyson turned his full focus back to their mission.


    As Vicky delved deeper into the Sith''s systems, seeking out the planetary clearance codes that would grant them the means to escape Taris, Tyson saw the first signs of strain in her posture, an increase in the intensity of her focus. The codes were the key to everything, the linchpin of the Sith''s control over the planet. They would be guarded by the most powerful firewalls, the most advanced encryption algorithms the Sith had at their disposal.


    For long moments, Vicky worked in silence, her consciousness fully immersed in the digital realm. But finally, with a flicker of frustration crossing her features, she withdrew her focus from the terminal.


    "The codes are too well protected," she reported, her voice tinged with a hint of defeat. "They''re locked off the main network. I can''t reach them. They can only be accessed by the Sith Governor, from the terminal in his office."


    It was a setback, but not wholly unexpected. The Sith would not make it easy to leave Taris, not with Bastila pinned here, and how important she was to the Republic''s war effort.


    Vicky''s AI mind analyzed the Sith base''s internal structure with remarkable speed. Within moments, she had accessed the mapping system, plotting a route that would lead Tyson directly to the Sith Governor''s office. With a flicker of data transfer, the map appeared in Tyson''s field of view, courtesy of his Tactical Info HUD. The path was highlighted in a soft, pulsing light, a digital trail in his vision.


    If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it.


    Tyson glanced at Vicky, a question in his eyes. The nurse droid, sensing his unspoken query, explained her reasoning with calm assurance. "That''s the path to the Sith Governor''s office," she said, her voice low but clear. "You''ll need to access his terminal to obtain the clearance codes. I can do more if I stay here. No one should think twice about me being the receptionist. But having constant access to their system will allow me to monitor your progress, reroute any patrols, and unlock any doors if you run into trouble." She gestured towards Tyson''s disguise. "Your armor should allow you to move unnoticed otherwise."


    Tyson had to admit, it was a solid plan. With her watching over him, guiding his steps, and clearing his path, his chances of reaching the Governor''s office undetected were greatly increased.


    He nodded, "Thank you," he said, his voice warm with appreciation. "I couldn''t do this without you, Vicky. You''re amazing."


    Vicky smiled a soft, genuine expression that lit up her features. "Good luck, Tyson," she replied, "I''ll be with you every step of the way."


    With a final, reassuring glance, Tyson turned and set off down the corridor, following the path laid out by Vicky''s digital trail. Twice, he received new directions through his HUD, course corrections, and updates that kept him one step ahead of the Sith''s patrols.


    But as he neared the door to the Governor''s office, Tyson felt a sudden, prickling sense of unease wash over him. He halted abruptly, his instincts tingling with a warning that he couldn''t ignore. There was a presence ahead, a ripple in the fabric of the Force that set his nerves alight. It was a sensation he had felt before, a telltale sign of another attuned to the mystical energies that suffused the galaxy.


    The Governor, Tyson realized with a sinking feeling, was Force-sensitive. Likely a Sith apprentice.


    It was a complication he hadn''t anticipated. If the Governor sensed his presence if he detected the flicker of Tyson''s connection to the Force...


    Tyson frowned, his gaze fixed on the door that stood between him and his goal. Not for the first time, he found himself wishing that he had remembered more of the details of the Knights of the Old Republic story, that if he had a clearer memory of the game he''d be better able to navigate the situations he continued to find himself in.


    But there was no use dwelling on what might have been. The situation was what it was, and Tyson would have to adapt, to rely on his wits and his skills rather than his scant memories to see him through.


    He could only hope that the Governor''s attunement to the Force was not so strong that he sensed Tyson''s presence, giving away his deception.


    Tyson approached the door to the Governor''s office. He raised his fist, knocking firmly on the door. The sound echoed in the silence of the corridor. There was a pause that seemed to hang suspended as Tyson waited for a response. Then, from within the office, a gruff voice granted him entry, the words laced with annoyance at the unexpected interruption.


    Tyson stepped inside, immediately noticing the trappings of Sith propaganda that adorned the room. Tapestries hung from the walls, and at the center of it all, seated behind a grand desk, was the Sith Governor himself. His brow was furrowed in irritation as he looked up, his eyes raking over Tyson''s armored form with disdain. "Why didn''t the receptionist announce you?" he questioned. There was a dangerous edge to his tone, a warning that any perceived slight or breach of protocol would not be tolerated.


    Tyson quickly fabricated a plausible excuse. "The Twi''lek girl had some bad food. She went home sick. There''s a new droid manning the entry," he said.


    The Governor''s expression twisted into one of distaste as if the very idea of such an explanation offended his sensibilities. "Well, that''s unfortunate," he grumbled, leaning back in his chair with a creak. "What brings you here, then?"


    Tyson drew on every ounce of his acting skills to maintain his cover. "Sir, there are a few business requests for food and other trade that require the codes for space travel. If it''s not too much trouble..."


    He let the words trail off, hoping that the Governor would simply acquiesce and that the mundane nature of the request would be enough to deflect any further scrutiny. But even as the words left his mouth, Tyson could sense the shift in the room. The Governor''s eyes narrowed, his gaze sharpening as he studied Tyson with a new intensity.


    With deliberate slowness, the Governor rose from his seat, his hands reaching behind the desk to retrieve an object that had been hidden from view. Tyson''s eyes narrowed as the gleaming length of a double-bladed vibrosword emerged, its razor-sharp edges catching the light with a menacing glint.


    "So," the Sith Governor growled, his voice low and dangerous as he held the weapon with the ease of long practice, "Two breaches of protocol, the first not being announced by reception, the second not filling out the requisite forms for clearance requests." He paused, his gaze flicking down to the blaster pistol holstered at Tyson''s hip, the one he had acquired from Trask on the Endar Spire. "Add that to the non-standard issue weapon..."


    The Governor''s lips curled into a sneer, a cruel parody of a smile that held no warmth or humor. "It''s a trap then," he declared, his words ringing out, marking the end of Tyson''s ruse and the beginning of a confrontation he had hoped to avoid.


    In the tense standoff that followed, Tyson felt a sudden, sickening shift in the Force, a writhing of dark energy that coiled around him like a serpent. The Sith Governor raised his hand in a casual gesture of power, unleashing a Force Choke, the invisible tendrils of his will tightening around Tyson''s throat with merciless strength.


    Tyson gasped, his lungs straining for air as the pressure increased, black spots dancing at the edges of his vision. The Governor''s smirk widened, a sadistic glint in his eye as he savored the pain emanating from his victim. "Surrender now, and I might spare your life," he offered, his voice dripping with a cruel, mocking humor.


    But even as his body was starved for oxygen, Tyson refused to yield. He could feel the Governor''s use of the Force, the way he twisted and bent its energies to his dark purposes, a perversion of the teachings Alysia had shared with him. It was a violation, a corruption of the natural balance that the Force sought to maintain. Reaching within himself, Tyson called upon the Force, not as a weapon to be wielded or a tool to be used. He did not seek to dominate or control, but rather to restore, to act as a conduit.


    And the Force answered, its power flowing through Tyson like a cleansing tide, washing away the pain and the hints of fear and despair. It surrounded him, infused him, and then exploded out from him in a telekinetic wave that repelled the Governor''s malevolent grip and shattered the chains of his Force Choke.


    The Governor staggered back, his eyes wide with shock and disbelief as he watched his attack dissipate. He had not expected this infiltrator to be able to access the Force.


    For a moment, the two men stood frozen, their gazes locked in a silent battle of wills. The Governor, his face twisted with rage and frustration, his double-bladed vibrosword clutched in a white-knuckled grip. And Tyson rose to stand tall and defiant.


    Tyson raised his blaster pistol, his finger tightening on the trigger. Two bolts of searing energy erupted from the muzzle, streaking across the room to slam into the Governor''s armor with a sizzle of dissipating energy. The impacts rocked the Sith back on his heels but did little to slow his advance. With a snarl of rage, the Governor charged forward, his double-bladed vibrosword humming in the still air as he closed the distance between them.


    It was a simple tactic, one drilled into every Sith warrior from the earliest days of their training. Close with the enemies wielding blasters to remove their ranged advantage and finish them in melee combat.


    But as the Governor approached, his vibrosword raised for a killing blow, he was greeted with an unexpected sight. Tyson''s vibrosword seemed to materialize in his off-hand, so quick were his movements. One moment, the blaster pistol was his only visible weapon. The next, he was lunging forward, his vibrosword clashing against the Governor''s weapon with a shower of sparks.


    The Sith let out a cry of surprise, his dark eyes widening with shock as he parried the blow. But even as he did so, Tyson''s blaster pistol barked again, the bolt catching the Governor in the side at point-blank range. The smell of burnt flesh filled the air as the Sith winced, struggling to maintain his defense against Tyson''s unexpected assault.


    For a moment, the two men strained against each other, their blades locked in a contest of strength and will. But with a twist of his wrist, Tyson''s vibrosword darted in to score a glancing blow against the Governor. The Sith reeled back, his breaths coming in ragged gasps as he struggled to recompose himself. His earlier arrogance was gone, replaced by a wary caution as he reassessed his opponent.


    With a growl, the Governor launched himself forward once more, his vibrosword flashing in a series of wild, desperate swings. But his attacks lacked the precision and finesse of a true duelist, the kind of mastery that Tyson had witnessed in the arena at the hands of fighters like Marl.


    Tyson weaved and dodged, his blade parrying each blow. He could feel the Force flowing through him, guiding his movements, lending him a preternatural awareness of the battle''s ebb and flow. And then, with a sudden, wrenching twist, Tyson drove his vibrosword through the Governor''s guard, the humming blade sinking deep into the Sith''s shoulder. The Governor screamed, his weapon falling from nerveless fingers as he staggered back, clutching at the wound.


    For a moment, there was a stillness, a pregnant pause as the two combatants eyed each other across the smoke-filled room. The Governor''s face was a mask of pain and fury, his eyes burning with a hatred that seemed to radiate from his very being.


    Before Tyson''s eyes, the Governor''s sclera shifted from a white to a sickly yellow hue. And then, with an ominous raising of his hand, the Sith reached out with the Force.


    Tyson felt the Governor''s dark power coil around him like a vise, holding his body rigid and unresponsive. He was lifted off his feet, suspended helplessly as the Sith dashed for the door, intent on making his escape while his opponent was immobilized.


    But Tyson would not be so easily contained. Reaching deep within himself, he tapped into the Force once more, though not to plead for aid. Instead, he activated a perk.


    Sever Force.


    In an instant, the Governor''s connection to the cosmic energy was shattered, his hold over Tyson crumbling away.


    Landing lightly on his feet, Tyson was already in motion. His blaster pistol rose swiftly, targeting the retreating Sith. Tyson''s finger squeezed the trigger, unleashing a hail of glowing bolts that flew unerringly toward their target.


    The Governor staggered under the onslaught, his armor smoking and sparking as the energy pulses found their mark. He tried to rally, to gather his power for one last, desperate attack. But the Force slipped through his grasp like water through his fingers. And Tyson pressed his advantage. His blaster flashed, once, twice, thrice, each bolt a searing lance of light that burned through the Governor''s armor and sent him crashing to the floor.


    The Sith lay there, broken and bleeding, his breath coming in shallow gasps as he struggled to rise. But Tyson was already moving, his vibrosword humming as he closed the distance between them. There was no mercy in his eyes, no hint of hesitation or doubt. The Governor had chosen his path and had embraced the darkness and all the cruelty and oppression that came with it. And now, he would pay the price for that choice.


    With a final, decisive thrust, Tyson drove his blade through the Governor''s heart, the razor-sharp edge striking between the Governor''s armor plates, parting flesh and bone with sickening ease.


    The Sith seized, then lay still.


    Standing over the fallen form of his enemy, Tyson, felt a sense of grim satisfaction wash over him. He had faced down another force wielder. But even as he savored the victory, he knew that it was only the beginning. He hesitated to even consider the Governor as a Sith or Dark Jedi. The man was barely an apprentice. Tyson knew there were so many others, higher-ranking Sith and more powerful dark side adepts, who would pose a far greater danger and challenge.


    Tyson moved to the Governor''s computer terminal, relieved as he saw that the man had left it unlocked when he''d attacked Tyson. With a few keystrokes, Tyson navigated through the system, scanning the screen for the information he sought. And there, nestled among the countless files, he found them. Several sets of clearance codes.


    And like that, he obtained the keys to their escape from Taris.


    Tyson copied the codes and sent them directly to Vicky through his HUD. With the codes secured, Tyson turned his attention to the door, his hand reaching into his pocket to retrieve the Access Key. He held it up to the access panel, and instead of opening onto the corridor of the Sith Base, the door swung inward, revealing the antechamber of his Personal Reality.


    Without hesitation, Tyson reached down and grabbed the Governor''s fallen double-bladed vibrosword. He tossed the weapon, it sailed through the doorway, the blade clattering to the floor of his Warehouse with a metallic clang. It was a small thing, a trophy of his victory, but loot was loot. Satisfied, Tyson closed the door, the locking mechanism clicking back into place. He''d opened the door to his Personal Reality intentionally, learning from the mistake he''d made in the Lower City. Should he ever need to return to this office, he would be able to do so directly from his Personal Reality, bypassing the need to infiltrate the base again.


    Tyson made his way out of the office, retracing his path through the Sith base. Once again, his way was illuminated by the digital guiding light provided by Vicky through his HUD.


    As he entered the lobby, Tyson''s gaze immediately sought out Vicky, the nurse droid still seated at the reception desk, her expression a mask of calm professionalism. But as their eyes met, Tyson could see the flicker of relief and victory that danced behind her gaze, acknowledging a mission accomplished. "I''ve locked the Sith Governor''s office with an encryption code," Vicky informed him, her voice low and conspiratorial. "The cameras will show him sitting in his office, looping yesterday''s footage. Anytime someone attempts to contact him, it''ll play the recording of his distaste for being interrupted. It should buy us a bit of time before anyone notices."


    Tyson felt a surge of gratitude and admiration for Vicky''s quick thinking. Her intervention had bought them precious time, a window of opportunity to make their escape before the Sith realized what had transpired.


    Together, they made their way toward the front doors of the Sith base, and the promise of freedom drew ever closer. But as they approached the threshold, Tyson paused, his hand once again reaching for the Access Key. He inserted the key into the door''s locking mechanism, the click of the tumblers echoing in the stillness of the lobby.


    Tyson allowed himself a small smile of satisfaction as he and Vicky stepped through the portal and back into the familiar confines of his Personal Reality, the door sealing shut behind them with finality. They had struck a meaningful blow against the Sith. Infiltrating the base, facing down a dark adept, and emerging victorious with the clearance codes that would grant them passage off this planet; it was a success all around. Yet even as he savored the triumph, Tyson knew their work here was far from finished.


    The biggest challenges still lay before them.


    Soon the Sith fleet would rain down devastation on Taris in a desperate bid to prevent Bastila''s escape.


    They still needed to find a ship that would allow them to leave the planet.


    Sure, Tyson still had the Sith Interceptor, but it lacked shields and a hyperdrive. He could upgrade the ship, adding those features, but Tyson still wasn''t sure how difficult Ship Points were to acquire, as he hadn''t gained any besides those granted by Q. His ship would serve as a decent fallback, but shouldn''t be their first option.


    And there was still the idea that Darth Malak would genocide the planet. There were billions of people. But what could Tyson do to stop the Sith fleet in orbit?


    In Knights of the Old Republic, there was no way to stop the bombing of Taris.


    Was there truly no way to prevent the coming genocide? To stop the Sith warships poised to deal out death on such an unthinkable scale?


    But the cold truth was that even if he spent all his SP on upgrading the Sith Intercepter, it wouldn''t be a match for the combined might of the Sith armada. He wished he had an answer. Wished that with all his strange powers and knowledge, he could find a way to avert the disaster.


    Episode: Star Wars Knights of the Old Republic - Retrieve Command Codes from the Sith Base. Complete!


    +50 RP


    Reality Points: 250


    <hr>


    Tyson


    Origins: Human, Humanoid, Drop-In, Space Pirate, Bad Guy


    Race: Augment Human-Betazoid (Hybrid)


    Character Points: 1050, 600 (Vicky)


    Reality Points: 250


    Ship Points: 1400


    Credits: 116,450


    Status Effects: (none)


    Drawbacks:


    Gauntlet (Locked)


    Ensign Marty Stu


    A Simple Re''Q''uest


    Hybrid (Betazoid)


    Amok Time/Blood Fever


    Outlawed


    The Voyager Problem


    Perks:


    Cosmic Awareness


    Out of Nowhere


    Going Native


    Live and Let Live


    This is (Not?) Rocket Science


    Kinda Bland


    Determinator


    Painted On


    Snakeskin


    Adaptable


    Duelist


    Master with your Hands


    Best of the Best


    Everything Is A Weapon


    Augment


    Force Specialization: Intelligence


    Tactical Info


    Sever Force


    Items:


    Laser Blade


    Spacesuit


    Agony Booth


    Cloaking Minefield


    Lightsaber


    Gray Goo Suit


    Companions:


    (Vicky) V-KO IV Nursedroid, Artificial Intelligence Upgrade


    Personal Reality:


    Access Key


    Security System


    High-Security Inter-Reality Connecting Door (Star Trek Enterprise)


    Medical Bay


    High-Security Inter-Reality Connecting Door (Star Wars Knights of the Old Republic)


    Key Link


    Housing Complex


    Basic Nutrition


    Spaceships:


    Tramp Freighter (Destroyed - Respawn on 02/28/2365)


    Sith Interceptor

 Season 1: Episode 6.3 - Whats the Plan?

    Episode 6.3 - What''s the Plan?


    Stardate: 41168.2


    Earth Standard Date: March 02, 2364.


    Galactic Date: 21st Day of the Second Month, 3956 BBY


    Location: Upper City, Taris, Star Wars Knights of the Old Republic Continuity


    Tyson stood in the antechamber of his Personal Reality, his brow furrowed with deep concern. The enormity of the impending disaster weighed heavily upon his shoulders, the knowledge that billions of innocent lives hung precariously in the balance. Despite their recent success infiltrating the Sith base and obtaining the clearance codes, the ominous specter of the Sith fleet still loomed in orbit, a constant and seemingly insurmountable threat.


    Vicky, standing faithfully by Tyson''s side, reached out and gently placed a sympathetic hand on his shoulder. Her synthetic yet compassionate features arranged themselves into an expression of heartfelt empathy. "What''s troubling you?" she asked softly, her voice gentle and inviting.


    Tyson paused, considering whether he should confide his deepest concerns with Vicky. But she had proven herself loyal, and with her recent upgrade, she was likely more perceptive and intelligent than himself. Perhaps she could provide wisdom and help discover a path forward.


    "It''s the Sith fleet," he finally confessed, his words heavy with the burden of his foreknowledge. "I''m certain they will not hesitate to bomb the entire planet, slaughtering billions, rather than let Bastila escape their grasp. But I don''t know how to prevent such a horrific tragedy. Even with all my abilities and knowledge, I feel powerless to stop their armada from genociding the planet. It''s beyond comprehension that they would murder billions of innocents merely to eliminate a single individual, yet I know with absolute certainty they will."


    Vicky squeezed Tyson''s arm gently. The gesture was simple, yet it conveyed a depth of understanding and support. "We''ll find a way," she assured him, "We''ll work together, Tyson. You''re not alone in this." Tyson met her gaze, a flicker of hope kindling in his eyes at her words. Vicky continued, "I have access to the same system you do, Tyson. And I have 600 CP of my own to spend. Together, we can find a way to save Taris and Bastila both."


    Tyson nodded, the weight on his shoulders easing slightly at the reminder that he had Vicky by his side. "What are you considering for your purchases?" he asked, eager to hear her perspective.


    Vicky considered, her AI mind processing countless possibilities in a heartbeat. "I should purchase my own Gray Goo upgrade," she said at last. "For 200 CP. It would grant me the same adaptive capabilities as your suit, but as an AI, I''ll have expanded capabilities. I''ll be able to shape my appearance and integrate new technologies seamlessly."


    Tyson agreed readily, seeing the wisdom in her suggestion. "That would be a valuable addition," he acknowledged. "It would make you even more versatile and resilient. I don''t see any downsides."


    Vicky nodded, pleased by his approval. But her mind was already racing ahead, exploring other avenues. "What about purchasing upgrades for the ship?" she suggested, her tone thoughtful.


    Tyson shook his head, his expression grim. "When I landed on Taris, I saw what was in orbit through my ship''s scanners. A dozen Interdictor-class cruisers are surrounding the planet," he explained, his voice heavy with the weight of that knowledge. "No single ship, no matter how advanced, could take on that entire fleet in a fight."


    But Vicky was undeterred. Her eyes gleamed with a hint of mischief, a spark of an idea forming in her artificial mind. "What if we didn''t try to fight them directly?" she posed, her words hanging in the air like a challenge.


    Tyson paused, considering her reply. A slow, contemplative smile began to spread across his features as he turned to face Vicky fully. "Can you control a starship?" he asked, his tone curious and hopeful.


    Vicky''s response was immediate and confident. "Starship, Sith base, there isn''t much difference," she declared, a hint of pride coloring her words. "If there''s a computer running it, I can run it."


    The wheels turned in Tyson''s head, the pieces of a plan beginning to fall into place. Vicky''s capabilities opened up a world of possibilities. If she could infiltrate the Sith fleet''s systems...


    "We might not need to fight them at all," Tyson murmured, his eyes distant as he followed the thread of his thoughts. "If you can gain control of their ships, even for a short time, it could be enough to throw their fleet into disarray."


    Vicky nodded, her expression mirroring Tyson''s growing excitement. "Exactly," she agreed. "I can sow confusion, disrupt their communications, maybe even turn their weapons against each other. It would be chaos."


    The plan took shape with each passing moment.


    Tyson paused, considering Vicky''s proposal with a furrowed brow. After a moment, he shook his head slowly. "Alright, let''s think this through logically," he said. "Even if we could smuggle you onto a single Sith ship and you took control of its systems, that would only be one ship out of twelve. What''s to stop the others from bombing the planet?"


    Vicky took on a faraway look as she considered his words and processed through possibilities. "There are two options. We target the capital ship of the Sith fleet. We can jam communications, or falsify orders once I have control of the ship."


    "Or, the riskier, but more certain plan¡­ I can create limited copies of my programming within each vessel," she explained. "One virtual intelligence for each ship, working in tandem."


    Tyson crossed his arms as he turned over Vicky''s proposal in his mind. "So you''re saying we''d need to infiltrate a dozen different ships?" He shook his head doubtfully. "That''s a tall order. I''m not sure how we could pull it off without being caught."


    At that, Vicky broke into a fierce grin. It was an expression of determination, lighting up her artificial features with resolve. "It''s a daring plan, I''ll admit," she said. "But I believe we can do it."


    Vicky held her hand out to Tyson.


    Tyson studied Vicky''s outstretched hand, then his eyes trailed up to meet her earnest gaze. The android''s gesture was so innately human that it gave him pause. With a slow exhale, Tyson clasped Vicky''s hand in his. Her eyes lit up as he solidified his trust in her.


    "Alright," Tyson said finally, his voice low but steady with conviction. "It''s a bold plan, no doubt. But if anyone can pull this off, it''s us."


    Vicky interfaced with Tyson''s HUD. A display of her interface popped up between them so they could work together. Vicky navigated through the options. She confirmed her purchase of the Gray Goo Upgrade, and the 200 CP was deducted from her allotment.


    The nanobots that comprised Vicky''s new suit flowed over her like quicksilver, conforming to her curves and contours with a fluidity that captivated Tyson. In mere moments, she was encased in a skintight sheath, a mirror image of Tyson''s own armored suit.


    Then, without warning, Vicky dissolved into a pile of gray goo.


    Though alarming, Tyson had anticipated this metamorphosis. Vicky''s purchase was more than a simple suit like his own. As an AI entity, the nanobots became her new form, her new body, her new existence. Vicky''s artificial intelligence was now dispersed among the countless nanobots.


    Tyson stood transfixed as the pile of gray nanobot goo shifted and reformed before his eyes. The formless mass slowly took on a vaguely humanoid shape, starting with a blank oval that molded itself into a head. A neck sprouted next, followed by a torso that extended arm and leg appendages. At first, Vicky resembled a child''s crude clay sculpture; lumpy and misshapen. But gradually, her features became more distinct and defined.


    Her face gained clarity as eyes, a nose, and lips etched themselves in place. Arms and legs sculpted themselves into proper proportions, muscles rippling beneath the surface. Strands of hair unfurled from her scalp, cascading down her back. Clothing covered her body, the nanobots weaving themselves into pants, a shirt, and a jacket that draped her frame. Within moments, the pile of gray goo had transformed into a perfect replica of Vicky''s original humanoid android form. She stood before Tyson, whole again, renewed by the nanobots that now comprised her very being.


    Vicky''s gaze turned inward as she contemplated her new nanobot body. With barely a thought, her features began to shift and change. Fur sprouted across her skin as she took on a Wookie''s form. Another moment passed and her eyes moved to the sides of her head and it elongated into that of a Mon Calamari. She cycled through myriad alien forms and appearances before finally returning to the one she knew best, her previous nursedroid appearance.


    Satisfied with her shape-shifting abilities, Vicky focused on altering her outward appearance. The intricate network of metal plates, gears, pistons, and servos that had once marked her robotic body now receded into her nanobot flesh. The mechanical components disappeared bit by bit until no trace of them remained. She now held an ordinary human form, complete with soft pink hair wrapped in twin buns tied at the top of her head. The nanobots had granted Vicky a flawless disguise, allowing her to pass as human whenever she wished. She marveled at how quickly and easily she could transition. This new body granted her abilities beyond anything she had dared believe was possible when she was just a simple nursedroid.


    Vicky raised an eyebrow, the gesture so perfectly human that it gave Tyson pause. "So, what do you think?" she asked, her voice a rich alto that resonated with warmth and vitality.


    Tyson took a moment to regard Vicky''s new form, marveling at the intricacy of her transformation. Every detail was flawless, from the subtle rise and fall of her chest as she breathed to her hair which swayed with the slightest movement. He nodded slowly, genuinely impressed. "You''re...convincing," he admitted. "Very convincing."


    Vicky held his gaze expectantly as if waiting for him to say more. When he didn''t, a slight crease formed between her brows. It seemed his response wasn''t quite what she was looking for.


    Realizing his oversight, Tyson offered her a warm smile. "You''re beautiful, Vicky," he said sincerely. "This new body suits you perfectly."


    A pleased smile blossomed across Vicky''s features at the compliment. She took a step closer to Tyson. Up close, he could make out the faintest dusting of freckles across the bridge of her nose and the delicate curve of her lips. The nanobots had replicated her previous synthetic form with astonishing accuracy while replacing it with this new, human form.


    "Thank you, Tyson," she murmured, her voice soft yet brimming with sincerity. "I''m glad you approve." She reached out, taking his hand in her own. Her fingers were warm against his skin, their contact sent a subtle thrill through him.


    Tyson met Vicky''s gaze, his breath catching ever so slightly at her proximity. At that moment, he was struck by just how human she seemed. Not merely in appearance, but in the way she carried herself, the gentle cadence of her voice, and the depth of emotion that shone in her eyes. She was so much more than a simple droid or artificial construct. Vicky was a being in her own right, one who had become more than any human could hope to be.


    Giving her hand a gentle squeeze, Tyson nodded. "You''re incredible, Vicky," he said.


    Vicky''s smile widened at his praise, her eyes sparkling with warmth.


    "And I still have 400 CP left," she said, her voice brimming with enthusiasm. "Maybe a suit of armor? There''s one for 200 CP that comes with weapons, enhanced strength, jet boots..."


    But Tyson held up his hand, stopping her mid-sentence. "Keep in mind," he reminded gently, "CP can''t be earned or regained. You can absorb armor, and then recreate it. It''s wiser to save your CP for something you can''t acquire on your own."


    Vicky nodded, "You''re right," she acknowledged. "It would be more prudent to reserve the CP for truly unique or irreplaceable enhancements." Her voice rang with excitement as she commented, "If we''re looking for upgrades, we should head back to the Sith base."


    Tyson gave her an uncertain look, hesitation evident in his furrowed brow. But Vicky continued enthusiastically, "I was in their database when we infiltrated earlier and left a VI copy of myself inside. We''d have no issues getting back in, especially since you used the Access Key inside the base. Remember, the Sith confiscated all of Janice''s droids, and it wasn''t just her shop, there were others too. If we infiltrate again, we can steal a few upgrades from the droids for our suits."


    As she spoke, Vicky''s body shifted and rippled, the distinctive silver armor plates and black underweave of the Sith troopers materializing around her slender frame like a second skin.


    Tyson inhaled sharply. "Impressive," he breathed. "You can infiltrate the Sith just as easily as I can. Your shapeshifting opens up a new range of possibilities for our plan."


    This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.


    Vicky nodded, her expression one of quiet satisfaction at Tyson''s reaction. The sleek black and silver armor accentuated her athletic physique, and she stood taller, empowered by the disguise. Tyson studied her appraisingly for a moment before gesturing towards the door. "Let''s go get those upgrades."


    ¡ª Star Jumper ¡ª


    Tyson and Vicky, disguised in Sith armor crafted by their Gray Goo suits, stepped through the door from Tyson''s Personal Reality directly into the Sith Governor''s office. Thanks to Vicky''s VI still embedded within the base''s systems, the Governor''s death had gone unnoticed, allowing them to move freely into the facility. They navigated the short corridor, taking the elevator up to the main level. The Sith Governor''s office was located on the lower floor, and with his demise, they had no reason to linger there. On the main level, they followed the corridor toward the center of the base, heading in the direction of the reception desk. Their Sith disguises proved effective, as they passed by other personnel without being stopped or questioned.


    Before reaching the reception area, they entered the nearest room behind the desk. Inside, they encountered a peculiar droid floating in the center of the space. It was a tall, spindly machine with four long, pincer-like legs extending from the top of its main body. The legs hung down around the central structure, giving the droid a spider-like appearance. At the top of its body, a single glowing dot served as its optical sensor.


    Tyson approached the droid, engaging it in conversation with a fabricated medical inquiry to distract it from their true intentions. "Excuse me, Doctor...Droid...uh, sorry, I didn''t catch your designation," he said, feigning ignorance. "I''m experiencing some unusual pain in my left shoulder. Do you think you could run a diagnostic scan to determine the cause?"


    The droid''s glowing optical sensor swiveled towards Tyson, its pincer-like legs twitching as it processed the request. "I am designated as Med-Droid 345," it replied in a mechanical voice. "I can certainly assist you with your medical concern, Sith Trooper. Please, stand still and remain calm while I initiate the scan."


    While the droid''s attention was focused on Tyson, Vicky stealthily maneuvered outside the range of its optical sensor. She positioned herself near the wall, her Sith armor blending seamlessly into the shadows. With a deft motion, she extended her dataport tail and interfaced directly with the droid''s systems. The thin, cable-like appendage snaked out from her wrist, its tip glowing with a soft blue light as it connected with the droid''s primary circuitry.


    Med-Droid 345 continued to scan Tyson, its glowing sensor moving in slow, deliberate arcs across his body. "Hmm, I''m not detecting any abnormalities, Sith Trooper," it reported. "I recommend¡­"


    Vicky''s eyes fluttered closed, her artificial mind diving into the droid''s digital realm. She navigated the labyrinthine pathways of its programming, seeking access to the base''s central database.


    The droid immediately began to resist the intrusion, its legs twitching and jerking as it attempted to break free from Vicky''s control. But Tyson was quick to react. In a fluid motion, he drew his lightsaber and sliced through the droid''s legs with precise strikes, rendering it immobile and helpless.


    With the droid''s physical resistance neutralized, Vicky continued her digital assault, hacking past its security systems with her advanced AI capabilities. Within moments, the droid ceased its struggle


    "Thanks for, the assist," Vicky said appreciatively. "You took the droid down without damaging any of its core components. That will make assimilation much easier."


    Tyson''s brow furrowed with worry at Vicky''s words. The notion of "assimilation" conjured uneasy comparisons to the Borg Collective in his mind. Vicky was an AI composed entirely of nanobots, and he tried to put aside his thoughts of the conquering cybernetic hivemind. Still, he watched the process unfold with a mix of fascination and unease.


    Vicky''s hand morphed into a shimmering, amorphous substance, like sentient liquid metal. With delicate care, she placed the mercurial appendage upon the droid''s main body, beginning the integration process. Tyson stared as the nanobots comprising Vicky''s Gray Goo infiltration suit flowed over the droid, enveloping it completely in their nano-scale embrace. The detached droid legs were not spared either, consumed by the tide of the nanite swarm. Vicky''s substance broke down the components with efficiency, assimilating the resources and integrating them into her own being with seamless grace.


    Though Vicky''s methods evoked comparisons to the Borg, Tyson had to admit the display was visually stunning in its own right. Like watching a silver tide claim a shoreline.


    "What did this droid have that was so valuable?" he asked, curious about the benefits of their latest acquisition.


    Vicky''s voice emanated from her suit, her tone revealing a hint of satisfaction. "It possessed a Class-2 energy shield and a low-powered repulsor system. The shield is likely the best that can be found on Taris, and the repulsor will allow me to float and move more efficiently. These upgrades will significantly enhance my defensive and mobility capabilities."


    Tyson nodded, recognizing the value of such enhancements. "Worthwhile additions," he agreed. "Is there anything else we need from this base?"


    Vicky paused for a moment, accessing the information she had gleaned from the base''s systems. "There''s an Assault Droid here, one that was taken from Janice''s shop."


    With their objectives clear, Tyson and Vicky retraced their steps, heading back toward the elevator. The corridor leading to the lift had remained undisturbed, and the Assault Droid stationed there stood dormant, as no alarm had been triggered to activate its combat protocols.


    Vicky approached the Assault Droid cautiously, extending her dataport tail to interface with its systems. However, the moment she established a connection, the droid''s security measures sprang to life. It reached out with its powerful arms, attempting to grab Vicky, while two blaster turrets emerged from hidden compartments in the floor, their barrels trained on the intruders.


    Reacting instinctively, Tyson called upon the Force, unleashing a powerful telekinetic push that sent the Assault Droid hurtling away from Vicky. In the same fluid motion, he drew his lightsaber, the weapon humming to life in his grip. With a snap-hiss, the emerald blade extended, its glow casting an eerie light in the corridor.


    The blaster turrets opened fire, crimson bolts streaking through the air toward Tyson and Vicky. But Tyson was ready. He deflected the incoming bolts with deft flicks of his wrist, sending them ricocheting off the walls and ceiling.


    Meanwhile, the Assault Droid had regained its footing and turned its attention to Vicky. It unleashed a barrage of blaster fire, the bolts sizzling through the air with deadly intent. But Vicky''s newly acquired Class-2 energy shield flared to life, encasing her in a shimmering barrier of protective energy. The blaster bolts dissipated harmlessly against the shield, leaving Vicky unscathed.


    Tyson continued his defense, his lightsaber a blur of motion as he intercepted the relentless stream of blaster fire from the turrets. Each deflected bolt struck the walls, leaving scorch marks and smoldering holes in their wake. The air grew thick with the acrid scent of ozone and burnt metal.


    Seeing that Vicky was well protected, he dashed forward, severing the blaster turrets from their floor mounts, leaving the mounting arms melting to slag, and the weapons undamaged. Then he turned toward the Assault Droid. He leaped forward with Force-enhanced speed. His lightsaber flashed, the emerald blade slicing through the Assault Droid''s armored plating at its shoulders and hips with ease. The droid staggered for a moment before toppling over in pieces, defenseless.


    Vicky seized the opportunity, her Gray Goo suit flowing over the damaged droid like a silver tide. The nanobots swarmed into the droid''s exposed internals, devouring and assimilating its components with ruthless efficiency. Within seconds, the Assault Droid was reduced to a lifeless husk, its power core and memory banks now integrated into Vicky''s own systems.


    As the last of the droid''s components were absorbed, the corridor fell silent, the only sound the hum of Tyson''s lightsaber.


    Tyson deactivated his lightsaber, the emerald blade retracting with a hiss. He turned to Vicky, a smile of triumph on his face. "Your new upgrades are already proving their worth."


    Vicky returned his smile, her artificial features alight with satisfaction. "And your skills with the lightsaber are as impressive as ever," she replied. She walked over to the blaster turrets and picked up the blasters. They were engulfed and disappeared into her frame.


    Tyson asked, "You can absorb weapons? My suit can''t do that.


    Vicky smiled, "I didn''t absorb the weapons. I''m just hiding them. Like how your suit hides your lightsaber and energy sword." She added, "But if I spend CP on a weapon or certain weapon-based upgrades, I believe I''d be able to absorb or create them."


    After a moment, Tyson commented, "That might be worth considering in the future."


    Vicky removed one of the blasters, the weapon surfacing from inside her skin in an eerie display. She handed it over to Tyson. "It''s a repeating blaster pistol. Similar energy output to your blaster pistol, but it fires faster."


    Tyson laughed, saying, "Thanks for the upgrade." He asked, "What upgrades did you get from the droid?"


    Vicky answered, "Tactical programming. Its like the basic combat upgrade from Janice, but should make me twice as effective in combat with blasters, none of the droids have had programming for melee combat yet."


    Together, they surveyed the aftermath of the brief but intense battle. The corridor bore the scars of their confrontation, scorch marks, and debris littering the once-pristine surfaces. They had acquired the upgrades they were seeking and had no further reason to remain in the base. With a final glance at the ruined Assault Droid, Tyson and Vicky turned to the doors. Tyson used his Access Key to open another way to his Personal Dimension.


    ¡ª Star Jumper ¡ª


    The Lower City cantina was abuzz with its usual din of conversation, the clinking of glasses, and outbursts of raucous laughter. In a dim corner, secluded from the prying eyes and ears of the other patrons, an unlikely band of allies gathered around a battered table.


    Tyson and Vicky had just returned from infiltrating the Sith base. They now joined Alysia, Trask, Bastila, Canderous, Mission, Zaalbar, Carth, and Avner, crowding in close to discuss their next move.


    Canderous leaned forward, resting his burly forearms on the table. "Alright, here''s the plan," he began, his voice a low rumble. "We need to get our hands on Davik''s ship, the Ebon Hawk. It''s the fastest vessel on Taris and our only shot at breaking through the Sith blockade surrounding this damned planet."


    Mission''s youthful face lit up with excitement at the prospect. "Yeah, but Davik''s estate is like a fortress! There''s no way we''ll get in there easily, let alone steal his most prized possession right out from under him."


    Zaalbar let out a low, rumbling growl of agreement, his shaggy Wookiee head nodding in concurrence.


    Carth furrowed his brow, weighing the odds of success. "She''s right, this won''t be easy. Davik''s no fool. He''ll have that place locked up tighter than a Hutt''s treasure room."


    Avner turned his thoughtful gaze to Tyson, his expression questioning. "What do you think, Tyson? You''ve proven yourself resourceful in the past. Any ideas how we should approach this?"


    Tyson met Avner''s gaze, his own eyes distant as if carefully considering his words. After a moment, he spoke, "Actually, I won''t be going with you on this mission."


    Tyson''s words hung in the air, casting a pall over the group. Carth was the first to break the tense silence. Suspicion colored his voice as he asked, "Why not? What are you talking about, Tyson?"


    Turning to face Alysia, Tyson met her questioning gaze. "Alysia, do you remember when I foresaw your death on the Endar Spire, before it happened?"


    Alysia nodded slowly, memories of that fateful day returning to her. "Yes, I remember. Your vision, your intervention saved my life."


    "I''ve had another vision," Tyson continued gravely, "When we finally manage to escape Taris, the Sith fleet will bombard the entire planet from orbit."


    A collective gasp escaped from the group as the magnitude of Tyson''s dire prophecy sunk in. Bastila''s face paled, her voice strained as she spoke up. "Are you absolutely certain? The wanton destruction of an entire world..." Her words trailed off, the implications too terrible to give voice to.


    Tyson nodded with a grim expression. "I am. The Force has shown me in vivid detail the devastation that awaits Taris if we do not act." He asked Bastila and Alysia. "Can either of you reach out with the Force, try to sense if there is any truth to my vision?"


    Alysia closed her eyes, brow furrowed in intense concentration as she stretched out with her feelings. After a long moment, she opened her eyes once more. "The Force grants me no such visions as it does for you, Tyson. But I do sense that you truly believe what you have foreseen, that in your heart you know the planet faces destruction."


    Avner added softly, "When I first met Bastila, I had a vision of her fighting Revan."


    Bastila remained silent, though her eyes held a deeply troubled look that betrayed her inner turmoil.


    Tyson stood from the table, resolve etched on his face. "That''s why Vicky and I won''t be joining you in infiltrating Davik''s estate. We must find a way to interfere with the Sith fleet and buy Taris some time."


    Canderous leaned back in his chair, his eyes narrowing skeptically. "And how exactly do you plan on doing that? The Sith have enough firepower to reduce this planet to glass."


    "I don''t have all the answers yet, but I know I must try. The Force has shown me this path, and I intend to follow it." Tyson responded to the Mandalorian.


    Mission''s usually vibrant features were somber as she spoke up. "What about us? What should we do?"


    Tyson placed a reassuring hand on the young Twi''lek''s shoulder. "You focus on getting off this planet. Secure the Ebon Hawk, escape. If I can buy you enough time, you might make it out before the Sith attack. If the worst happens and you can''t escape, head to the Undercity, as deep as you can go. It''s far enough down that you might survive the bombardment."


    Zaalbar let out a low growl of agreement, his loyalty to Mission unwavering. Though not everyone at the table understood the Wookiee''s words, Tyson''s universal translator allowed him to grasp their meaning. "Where Mission goes, I go."


    Carth let out a heavy sigh, "I don''t like the thought of us splitting up, yet again, but I can''t argue against the urgent need for your mission, Tyson. If there''s even the slightest chance of saving the people of Taris, we have to seize it."


    Bastila''s face was etched with concern, she straightened her posture as she pointed out, "Tyson, the path you propose is fraught with peril. The Sith are not to be underestimated. Are you certain this is the course you must take? Malak himself leads the fleet."


    Tyson nodded, his eyes filled with quiet determination. "I am, Bastila. After you escaped the Endar Spire, I defeated Darth Bandon, Malak''s apprentice, in single combat. While I don''t presume to believe I could face Malak and emerge victorious, I hope it doesn''t come to that. However, Vicky and I will do everything in our power to give Taris a fighting chance."


    Vicky, who had remained silent throughout the exchange, spoke up, her artificial features softened with empathy. "Tyson will not be alone in this endeavor. My capabilities have grown, and I will stand by his side, no matter the odds arrayed against us."


    Alysia frowned slightly at Vicky''s words, but then she offered Tyson a small, encouraging smile. "May the Force be with you, Tyson. And with all of us. We each have vital roles to play in the events yet to come."


    Avner clasped Tyson''s arm in a gesture of solidarity. "Be careful out there. I don''t know why, but I feel in my bones that this is the right path for you to take."


    Tyson returned the gesture, gripping Avner''s arm firmly. "Thank you. I sense your path is just beginning to unfold. Stay true to yourself, and to the light that dwells within you."


    With a final nod to the assembled group, Tyson turned to face Vicky. "It''s time."


    Tyson and Vicky made their way out of the dingy cantina, its smoky interior giving way to the grime-streaked bustle of the Lower City''s streets. Tyson paused on the threshold, the distant hum of airspeeders and machinery nearly drowning out his soft voice.


    "Do you think we can do it?" he asked, doubt and hope mingling in his tone.


    Vicky''s hand came to rest gently on his arm, grounding him. "I believe in you, Tyson," she said, her voice soft but fierce with conviction. "And I believe that together, we will find a way."


    Tyson met her earnest gaze and managed a grateful smile. "Then let''s get to work," he said, turning back to the cantina door. "We have a planet to save."


    He held up his Access Key, Vicky''s hand still resting reassuringly on his arm. Together, they stepped back into his Personal Reality.

 Season 1: Episode 7.1 - Shopping

    Episode 7.1 - Shopping


    Stardate: 4 1 1 6 8.8


    Earth Standard Date: March 02, 2364.


    Galactic Date: 21st Day of the Second Month, 3956 BBY


    Location: Housing Complex, Personal Reality


    Tyson and Vicky sat in the lounge of his Housing Complex inside the Personal Reality. He said, "Okay, it''s time to set our plan and make whatever purchases we need."


    Vicky replied, "Our best course is to use your ship to infiltrate the Sith capital ship. That way, if we can get to the other ships, we can implement our backup plan, and if not, we can stick with the primary plan. It''s the best first step, then work from there."


    Tyson nodded in agreement. "Okay. First, we infiltrate Malak''s ship. Get you into the systems. At least then you can interrupt communications, preventing them from signaling the other ships to attack Taris." Vicky nodded. Tyson then asked, "Your shapeshifting is pretty convincing. When you turned into a Wookie, I would''ve been fooled if I hadn''t seen the transformation myself. Can you impersonate individuals?" Vicky nodded again.


    Tyson continued, "Can I do that with my suit?"


    Vicky clarified, "Yes, but no. You can imitate someone''s physical appearance, but because yours is just a suit, it won''t change your height. So, you couldn''t passably imitate anyone. You''re too big. Unless you want to be the Wookie this time."


    Tyson mumbled, "Makes sense." His brow furrowed as he outlined the plan forming in his mind. "Vicky, you''ll pose as Bastila. Since the Sith want her captured, that''s what we''ll pretend to do. You can use your shapeshifting abilities to mimic her appearance perfectly, and I''ll play the part of a Sith guard escorting the prisoner."


    Vicky nodded thoughtfully, her eyes distant as she considered the idea. "I like it. It''s simple and guarantees we get onto the ship. They might even escort us directly to the bridge if that''s where Malak is."


    Tyson''s jaw set. "Exactly. While you''re impersonating Bastila, I''ll stick by your side in disguise. Once we''re close enough to the bridge, we can dispatch any additional security and make our move. Or more likely, we''ll have to improvise since we don''t know the ship''s layout."


    "One thing that worries me is the level of security protocols likely in place on the ship," Vicky said, "What I got from the droid to hack the Sith base might not be good enough for a capital ship. Spaceship computers are far more advanced because they must regulate shields, calculate hyperspace trajectories, and manage countless other critical systems."


    Tyson nodded, his eyes darkening as he contemplated the issue. "That''s a major concern. Our whole plan hinges on taking over the ship or disabling its communication system to prevent them from signaling other ships."


    Vicky''s worried expression transformed into an excited smile. "Seems like it''s time to go shopping!"


    Tyson rolled his eyes but turned to his system and began browsing for anything to help them override the security on a Sith capital ship.


    Tyson''s mind worked swiftly, taking in, organizing, and understanding vast data. Yet even his impressive mental faculties could not compare to Vicky''s lightning-fast intellect.


    She turned to him, her eyes alight. "I think I''ve got it," she declared. Though she had not chosen an Origin, Vicky still had 400 CP to spend. With a flick of her wrist, she transmitted her selections to Tyson''s interface for him to examine.


    Tyson looked over the incoming information.


    Smuggler


    Are you a trickster? Think you can make more money taking other people¡¯s stuff than you could doing honest work? Well, become the Smuggler and scoundrel you always knew you were meant to be.


    Tyson frowned at Vicky''s selection. He assumed that with her amazing abilities as an AI, she would''ve chosen the Tech Specialist Origin. But as he looked over the other perks, he understood why she''d gone with this selection.


    [Free (Origin)] Master with your Hands (Perk)


    You are a master with a weapon in your hand. You gain the ability to be unbelievably accurate with any weapon, melee or ranged, that you can use with one hand. And if one weapon doesn¡¯t work, you can smoothly transition to any other one-handed weapon in your possession, and in the act of drawing the new weapon, use it as smoothly as if you always had it out. As a bonus, the faster you make an attack, the more accurate it is, even if you have no time to aim it. Draw, shoot, hit. Lastly, you could even pull off the ol¡¯ dual-wielding trick, with whatever one-handed weapons you have on you. You¡¯re smooth enough that you will never run into any issues with holding two different, or similar weapons in each hand.


    [Free (Origin)] Light Weapon (Item)


    When you can¡¯t trust anyone around you, trust the weapon at your side. Pick any one-handed weapon in the setting like pistols, knives, etc. It will always be functional, will constantly regenerate any expended ammo, and will always return to you if you lose it.


    [-100 CP (Discounted)] Jumper¡¯s Master Key (Item)


    People like to think that things like locks and automated security will protect their stuff. You know better. You¡¯ve got a lovely bit of nanotech that can take the form of lockpicks, or become an electronic interface for hacking, or whatever form necessary. If there¡¯s a way for someone to legitimately get past security, then there¡¯s a way for you to fake your way past it, and this tool will help you do it. However, if you are trying to copy a unique qualifier/trait of a specific user such as a psionic signature or other energy types, then this item would take a form where it could duplicate that trait, but you¡¯d still need to get to the user so you can actually scan it.


    [-300 CP (Discounted)] Scaling Cloak (Item)


    You¡¯ve got a unique piece of gear that is worth a ship¡¯s weight in Platinum 190. This device is about the size of a baseball, and by itself, creates a field that optically hides you. But when it¡¯s paired with a shield generator, it emits a perfect invisibility shield. It covers everything, from sound, temperature, scents, radiation, etc. What makes this device so capable though is that it also works on other much larger shield generators, like the ones on ships, or even stations. Plug it in, and watch a ship become undetectable. Even better, while this requires a shield to work, it doesn¡¯t interfere with the shield, so you still have protection. Handy, considering you could walk into something, or a ship flying into a micrometeorite. If this device is ever lost or destroyed or otherwise rendered unusable, you¡¯ll find another copy in your Warehouse.


    Tyson whistled softly as he scanned the list of upgrades Vicky had selected. "That Scaling Cloak is a scary good item," he remarked, leaning back in his chair. The concept of a cloaking device that allowed a starship to maintain its shields while cloaked was indeed formidable. In his time aboard the Enterprise-D, the Federation''s treaty with the Romulan Star Empire had strictly prohibited cloaking technology. But with his metaknowledge, Tyson knew the limitations of such devices. Mainly, the inability to fire weapons or engage shields while cloaked.


    Yet, there were some exceptions.


    He recalled the Klingon Bird of Prey from one of the Original Series movies had been capable of firing while cloaked. But the Scimitar, Shinzon''s ship in ''Star Trek: Nemesis,'' truly stood out. That ship had been a behemoth, outmatching the Enterprise-E with its ability to fire while cloaked, among other impressive features.


    Now, Vicky had chosen an item that could potentially nullify those limitations. The Scaling Cloak seemed to offer stealth without having to sacrifice defense. The description lacked any mention of increased energy consumption or system incompatibility. It was versatile, too, capable of being used with Vicky''s energy shield, which she had acquired from the medical droid. As a Gray Goo entity, she could assimilate the Scaling Cloak, only to regain a new one the following day, ready to be integrated into Tyson''s Gray Goo Suit once he obtained a shield. Afterward, again it would respawn, allowing them to equip it to a ship''s shields.


    Vicky had also chosen a tool for hacking, another asset that could be absorbed and replicated. Purchasing Items was a brilliant strategy because they could be shared between them.


    The only caveat was that these selections would use all of Vicky''s remaining CP. But Tyson could hardly find fault in her choices.


    "I thought they would be the most versatile and useful in our current predicament," Vicky explained. "Plus, having an edge in stealth and security breaching could be the difference between success and failure."


    Tyson nodded in agreement, his mind already racing with tactical possibilities. "With these upgrades, we have more options when we get to Malak''s ship. We can get in and guarantee you''ll be able to disrupt their communications."


    Vicky added, "And should we need to retreat, the Scaling Cloak will ensure we can."


    Tyson corrected Vicky, saying, "Actually, my ship doesn''t have shields yet. I''d have to spend SP to upgrade it, and I''m hesitant to do so because it''s only a fighter craft. I don''t see it being viable long-term without significant investments." He continued, "Besides lacking shields, the ship also doesn''t have faster-than-light engines. While adding basic deflector shields would only cost 100 SP, purchasing a hyperdrive would cost 300. It''d be better to wait and hire someone in the spaceport to make the upgrades and pay with credits. But we don''t have that kind of time. Until I earn more SP, they''re a precious resource that shouldn''t be spent unnecessarily."


    Vicky tilted her head, processing his words. After a moment, she asked bluntly, "How much are a few billion lives worth in terms of SP?"


    Tyson sighed, shoulders slumping. "You''re right, of course. The stakes are too high to pinch points."


    Vicky''s gaze softened. "I didn''t mean to be harsh, I only wanted to provide some perspective." She continued gently, "What about purchasing a ship outright? Your system seems more expansive than mine. You could acquire a ship comparable to the Ebon Hawk for around 200 CP. But I suspect you have the same hang-up with that idea. It''s still a relatively small ship, and not viable for major upgrades down the road."


    Tyson nodded in agreement, conceding her point. There were no easy shortcuts if they wanted to be properly equipped for the tasks ahead. "The biggest problem is, if we''re trapped on Malak''s ship, I could spend my CP, so long as I''m not in combat, but SP can only be spent in a spaceport or similar facility."


    "There is a second problem," Vicky added, pulling Tyson from his thoughts. He gestured for her to continue, though he already sensed the issue she would raise.


    "If Force users can sense each other, then aren''t Darth Malak or any other Dark Jedi going to sense I''m not Bastila the moment they encounter me?" she asked. Tyson''s frown deepened as Vicky voiced her concerns.


    She was right. Their plan had another major flaw.


    When he had approached the Sith Governor earlier, Tyson sensed the man''s Force-sensitivity before even entering the room. It was another serious problem they would need to solve if their plan had any hope of success. He delved back into the System, searching for an answer. After a few moments, he found a solution that made him smile widely.


    "The Jumper''s Master Key would allow you to duplicate Bastila''s Force signature. We''d only need to return to them so she could be scanned. But I think I may have just the thing," he said.


    The alternate solution Tyson discovered was yet again a suggestion hinted at by Q during their discussion. The omnipotent being''s words came back to him.


    "There may be opportunities to pay a CP price for a Companion, and in return, they will receive a stipend of Character Points which you can then utilize to purchase them Perks or Items."


    The solution was in the Perks section for the Knights of the Old Republic Universe that unlocked when he first entered this world. He recalled seeing an option that allowed him to purchase or import a Companion. He''d dismissed it initially, as he hadn''t had any companions to import.


    Tyson purchased the Perk without hesitation.


    Even if their plans changed, exchanging 50 of his Character Points for gifting 600 points to Vicky was an easy choice to make. The trade-off was well worth it.


    [-50 CP] Old Friends (Companion)


    You can make up to eight of your current Companions inhabitants of this world, granting them a Drop-In, Jedi, or Sith background. Spending 50cp will give an individual companion 600cp to spend on perks, items, a different background, or extra Force powers. Companions cannot purchase any companion options or drawbacks. Companions will only gain the free items, perks, and discounts given by their backgrounds if the import cost is paid.


    Character Points: 1000


    Vicky''s eyes fluttered open. She struggled to find the words to describe the sensation coursing through her circuits for the first time.


    "The Force," she began, her voice hushed in reverence. "It''s like nothing I''ve ever felt before. Like a warmth spreading through me as if I''m basking in the light of a thousand suns. I feel...alive."


    "It''s profound," Vicky continued, shifting her gaze to Tyson. "You''re radiating with it now. An energy I''ve never encountered."


    "I know it''s a lot," said Tyson, "Why don''t you take some time to consider your purchasing options?"


    Vicky''s gaze took on a faraway look as she scrolled through the list. It was only a moment before she looked back up.


    "Force specialization is an easy choice," she declared. "Intelligence. The powers granted by the other Force specializations are useless in comparison. Force Barrier serves no real purpose when I already possess an energy shield through my tech. Likewise, Force Cloak does nothing for me that my Scaling Cloak can''t handle."


    Tyson nodded along as she spoke, satisfied with her reasoning. Her logic was sound.


    This book is hosted on another platform. Read the official version and support the author''s work.


    Origin: Jedi


    Force Specialization: Intelligence (Perk)


    The path of the Jedi consular and the Sith inquisitors. Your mental abilities are stronger and you have an easier time learning skills and Force powers. Includes a bonus Force Power: Force Heal. This ability lets you rapidly accelerate your, or others body¡¯s natural healing process. It can be used to mend injuries and cure diseases. Force Specialization includes basic training in Lightsabers, Blasters, Telepathy, Telekinesis, Empathy, Force Speed, Farsight, Force Stealth, Force Sight, and Mind Trick.


    [Free] Lightsaber (Item)


    The signature weapon of Jedi and Sith alike. You gain a single unaugmented blade.


    [Free] Enhanced Mind (Perk)


    You possess a perfect photographic memory and instant mental recall. Learning new skills should be easier with such a boost to your intellect. You¡¯ve also gained a small bit of wisdom into the ways of the Force, this will allow you to exert your powers a bit more before exhausting yourself and resist other Force users slightly better.


    Vicky paused, considering her options carefully. She had 600 CP to spend and wanted to make the most of them. Finally, she spoke again, having reached a decision.


    "I believe the best use for my CP right now would be this perk and item," she said decisively. "The rest I can hold reserved for when they were most needed."


    Vicky was confident in her choices. The perk and item she had singled out were useful now, which mattered most. The rest could wait until the right moment presented itself.


    [-50 CP (Discounted)] Armored Robes (Item)


    A Jedi robe with cortosis plates woven in. It can protect against blaster fire, and deflect lightsaber attacks.


    [-300 CP (Discounted)] Battle Meditation (Perk)


    A Force power that allows the user to boost the morale, stamina, and overall battle prowess of their allies while simultaneously reducing their opposition¡¯s combat effectiveness by destroying their will to fight. At its basic level, it can only affect small groups of people, but at its most powerful it can affect an entire fleet.


    Tyson considered Vicky''s selections. He had nearly purchased the Armored Robes previously before facing Darth Bandon on the Endar Spire. For Vicky, with her newly acquired Jedi Origin, the Robes were discounted, making them an even more desirable purchase.


    Sure, Tyson could go shopping for cortosis on Taris. Purchasing them with credits would be the most cost-effective option compared to CP. However, he didn''t know where to find cortosis. He couldn''t even remember seeing it in the Knights of the Old Republic game, but admittedly, that could be his memory failing him. Additionally, if purchased with CP, the robes would return after being destroyed or consumed. This meant Vicky, as a Gray Goo entity, could consume the robes, then Tyson could do the same with his Gray Goo suit, then the next day, they could be passed off to another Companion when Tyson acquired more allies. Just as they planned to do with the Jumper''s Master Key and Scaling Cloak.


    Battle Meditation was a powerful, yet expensive ability. Tyson hadn''t witnessed it in action, but Darth Malak''s willingness to kill billions to prevent the Jedi from regaining Bastila spoke volumes about its significance. While it might not be the most effective purchase initially, Battle Meditation could make a defining difference. Although major conflicts seemed far away, the ability still had practical small-scale fighting applications.


    Tyson saw no issues with Vicky''s choices, and having some CP in reserve was always helpful. Tyson nodded in approval as Vicky finished listing her choices for their first set of ability upgrades. "You''ve made some excellent selections," he said. "Battle Meditation could prove invaluable, even if it''s not the most useful right now." He gestured to the CP reserves Vicky had kept. "It''s wise to hold some CP in reserve as well. But for now, this is an excellent start."


    Vicky purchased her selections, and the Lightsaber, Armored Robes, Scaling Cloak, and Jumper''s Master Key manifested next to her. The Jumper''s Master Key was quickly absorbed into Vicky''s nanobot body. Lines of code streamed across her eyes as she made it part of herself, integrating the advanced hacking capabilities into her systems.


    Next were the Armored Robes. She slipped them on. The robes looked like traditional Jedi garments but with armored cortosis plates woven seamlessly into the material. Tyson watched in awe as the robes were then sucked into Vicky''s body, her nanobots breaking them down and recreating them as part of her physical form. The armored robes reformed around her, now a part of her Gray Goo physiology. She opened the robe and strapped the Lightsaber to her belt.


    Last was the Scaling Cloak. It manifested as a high-tech, futuristic crystal ball the size of a baseball. Vicky reached out with a slender hand, absorbing it into her body. Tyson could almost see the advanced cloaking technology merging with her systems, integrating itself into her nanobot swarm. In an instant, Vicky seemed to shimmer and fade from view, the futuristic cloak using her shield to bend light around her, rendering her completely invisible. Tyson''s eyes widened in surprise. Standing right in front, he could no longer detect Vicky''s presence. The Scaling Cloak had flawlessly masked her location. Vicky allowed the high-tech cloak to dissipate, her body reappearing before Tyson''s astonished gaze.


    After a moment, Tyson asked, "All good?" Vicky instantly disappeared, the Scaling Cloak activating and rendering her completely invisible. Then she reappeared, the cloak deactivating, and asked, "You tell me."


    Tyson admitted with a chuckle. "Works as well as advertised."


    Vicky''s optical sensors flickered with satisfaction. "Indeed. With these upgrades, our chances of success have increased significantly." She gestured to the Armored Robes now encasing her form. "The cortosis weave will protect me from lightsaber strikes, and the Scaling Cloak will allow me to move undetected."


    Tyson nodded, impressed by the capabilities Vicky now possessed. "And with the Jumper''s Master Key, you can slice through any security systems we encounter." He grinned. "Malak won''t know what hit him."


    Vicky regarded Tyson. "Now it''s your turn," she said, her tone matter-of-fact. "You still have an Origin you haven''t selected, and Reality Points to spend on improving your Personal Reality."


    Tyson leaned back in his chair, stroking his chin thoughtfully. "You''re right," he acknowledged. "There''s an Origin I put off selecting early on." His brow furrowed as he contemplated his options. This was one of the first available origins, from when he''d arrived on the Enterprise-D after his discussion with Q. Vicky remained silent, allowing Tyson to mull over the decision. He weighed the Origins before him. Several tempting options lay open, but none felt quite right just yet.


    "I''m still not ready to select this one," he said finally, shaking his head. "None of the initial perks are good. It is the expensive ones with the most potential, but I don''t want to lock myself into something I may not need. Better to keep my options open."


    Tyson sat straight on the bed, rubbing his hands together in anticipation. "But we can move on to the Personal Reality now," he said, trailing off as he opened the menu to browse his options again. Previously, Tyson had decided that when he had enough points, he would add electricity and water capabilities to the Housing Complex. Doing so would make the complex permanently livable and self-sustaining. Keeping to the promise he had made to himself earlier, Tyson quickly made those purchases.


    [-100 RP] WHO¡¯S GOT THE POWA (Personal Reality)


    This provides enough electricity to power a city the size of New York City or London, forever, with nary a brownout or power fluctuation ever. It also comes with all the basic wiring hookups, surge protectors, outlets, circuit-breakers, routers, etc you might need... but you¡¯ll probably want to get a qualified electrician in at some point... or pick up a companion who does that kind of thing. Purchase of this supplies all facilities inside your Personal Reality with electrical hookups.


    [-100 RP] PIPES PIPES PIPES (Personal Reality)


    Purchasing this provides your Warehouse with enough plumbing fixtures to turn the entire volume of your Personal Reality into one massive pool... or anything below that. This provides clean running water with any reasonably common additives you like (chlorine, glacial milk, fluoride), but does not provide a limitless supply, nor does it heat the water. By default, the amount of water this system can produce per day is 1 billion liters or one megaton of water or a block of water 100 meters on a side, and the default temperature of this water is 25 degrees Celsius. It can support any civilian infrastructure on the same scale as Mexico City or Tokyo. Comes only with the basic hookups. Purchasing this supplies all facilities inside your Personal Reality with water feeds, and if you have Who''s Got the Powa, it will supply hot and cold running water as well. These pipes include sewage and storm drain systems, vanishing waste as effectively as they create water. Anything that is not biological waste, loose grime, or liquid waste will be shunted into a special processing venue where you¡¯ll have to dispose of it. This venue will be somewhere discreet in your reality behind a door labeled ¡°Authorized Pipes Personnel Only¡±. The stuff will be cleaned of biological contaminants for you. The entire Pipe system is self-cleaning and self-maintaining, guaranteed free of vermin and bad odors.


    He turned to Vicky, "With all the Vulcans we''ve rescued, not to mention any future Companions, we need to make this space more livable. I just purchased the electricity and water upgrades. So now we have bathrooms and running water, and you can charge from the outlets here."


    Vicky nodded in agreement. "That''s a wise investment."


    Tyson said, "There''s still 50 RP left. It''s not much, but there are a pair of selections that I can still pick from."


    [-50 RP] A Little Less Basic Nutrition (Personal Reality)


    Although not a huge improvement, this raises the basic food allotment to what can be expected for a middle-class working family¡¯s budget. You can set it to the kinds of things your home culture might buy... or simply set it to a random sampling of various cultures¡¯ food purchases.


    [-50 RP] Choice Apartments (Personal Reality)


    Purchase of this upgrades all your Basic Housing Units in several minor ways. First off, two bedrooms can now be merged into a Master Bedroom, which has its own walk-in closet and attached bathroom. Second, the floors are now either carpeted or wood-paneled, walls are wallpapered, all rooms are 50% larger, the cut-off for additional kitchens is lowered to every five people and the furniture is decent. Kitchen Appliances, bathroom fixtures, closet doors... everything is improved a bit. The walls are now drywall and metal frame with insulation. Not soundproof, but better than nothing. Closets are now adequate and installed in each bedroom.


    Vicky tilted her head contemplatively as Tyson outlined the options before them. "Both are good choices," she said after a moment''s consideration. "However, I believe the Choice Apartments would be the better investment for now." Tyson raised an eyebrow, prompting Vicky to explain her reasoning. "With the number of Vulcans we''ve rescued, some may be part of families," she said. "The upgraded apartments would allow them to reside together in a more comfortable setting."


    Nodding slowly, Tyson saw the logic in her argument. "You make a fair point," he conceded. "The improved apartments are also a prerequisite for creating larger common areas." He stroked his chin thoughtfully.


    Vicky agreed with a small smile. "We''ve already met the necessities with the housing, electricity, food, and plumbing. For now, we should focus on enhancing the accommodations to provide the best possible environment."


    Tyson returned her smile, appreciating her pragmatic approach. "Well reasoned," he said before returning to the menu. With a few taps, he finalized the purchase.


    Reality Points: 0


    As the confirmation appeared, Tyson felt a subtle shift in the air around them. The bare, utilitarian housing units had been upgraded and transformed into more inviting living spaces. He glanced around, taking in the changes.


    The floors were now covered in plush carpeting, the walls adorned with tasteful wallpaper. The furniture, while still simple, had a more refined aesthetic.


    "A good choice," Vicky remarked, her eyes sweeping over the renovated apartments with an approving nod.


    Tyson hummed in agreement, his thoughts turning to the rescued Vulcans. "The Vulcans will be waking in three days," he said, "Time is running short before that deadline."


    While he was hopeful they could eventually return the Vulcans to their reality, Tyson knew that wouldn''t be possible until the NX-01 Enterprise was in a better position to facilitate such a transfer. For now, their priority was ensuring the rescued crew had a comfortable, if temporary, home within his Personal Reality.


    Vicky grabbed Tyson''s hand. "Come, let''s check out the bedroom upgrade," she said, a hint of excitement in her tone.


    She led him towards the door of his room, her steps light and purposeful. Tyson felt a flutter of anticipation as he reached for the handle, turning it and pushing the door open.


    The transformation was immediately apparent. Gone was the bare space. In its place stood a warm, inviting bedroom. Rich, plush carpeting cushioned their footsteps as they stepped inside, Tyson''s gaze roaming over the tastefully wallpapered walls. A large, plush bed dominated the center of the room, its frame crafted from polished wood and adorned with complimenting linens.


    "Nice upgrade," Tyson murmured, running his fingers along the smooth surface of the dresser. The furniture now boasted an elegant, refined aesthetic that perfectly complemented the room''s ambiance.


    Vicky''s eyes sparkled with delight as she took in the changes. "And that''s not all," she said, her voice brimming with excitement. "We have the option to combine rooms now."


    Tyson furrowed his brow, considering her words. The idea of seeing how it would come out if he merged his quarters with Vicky''s was intriguing, but he couldn''t help feeling a twinge of uncertainty. "I''m not sure," he began, his gaze sweeping over the spacious bedroom. "This is already a vast improvement."


    Vicky, however, was undeterred. She guided him towards the far wall. "Just imagine," she said, "A grand master suite, complete with a private bathroom. I don''t need much space remember, I recharge, I don''t sleep."


    Vicky must have sensed his wavering resolve, for she leaned in closer, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "And just think of the possibilities," she added winking.


    Tyson couldn''t deny the appeal of her suggestion. "Alright, you''ve convinced me," he said.


    No sooner had the words left his lips than the room shifted and transformed around them. The far wall seemed to dissolve, expanding outwards to encompass the adjacent space. Tyson watched in awe as a luxurious bathroom materialized complete with a deep, claw-footed tub and a spacious, tiled shower.


    Vicky''s delighted laugh rang out, her eyes sparkling with triumph. "Isn''t this great?" she exclaimed, gesturing towards the new addition.


    <hr>


    Tyson


    Origins: Human, Humanoid, Drop-In, Space Pirate, Bad Guy


    Race: Augment Human-Betazoid (Hybrid)


    Character Points: 1000, [250 KOTOR (Vicky)]


    Reality Points: 0


    Ship Points: 1400


    Credits: 116,450


    Status Effects: (none)


    Drawbacks:


    Gauntlet (Locked)


    Ensign Marty Stu


    A Simple Re''Q''uest


    Hybrid (Betazoid)


    Amok Time/Blood Fever


    Outlawed


    The Voyager Problem


    Perks:


    Cosmic Awareness


    Out of Nowhere


    Going Native


    Live and Let Live


    This is (Not?) Rocket Science


    Kinda Bland


    Determinator


    Painted On


    Snakeskin


    Adaptable


    Duelist


    Master with your Hands


    Best of the Best


    Everything Is A Weapon


    Augment


    Force Specialization: Intelligence


    Tactical Info


    Sever Force


    Items:


    Laser Blade


    Spacesuit


    Agony Booth


    Cloaking Minefield


    Lightsaber


    Gray Goo Suit


    Companions:


    (Vicky) V-KO IV Nursedroid: Artificial Intelligence Upgrade, Gray Goo Upgrade, Master With Your Hands, Light Weapon, Jumper''s Master Key, Scaling Cloak, Origin:Jedi, Force Specialization: Intelligence, Enhanced Mind, Lightsaber, Armored Robes, Battle Meditation


    Personal Reality:


    Access Key


    Security System


    High-Security Inter-Reality Connecting Door (Star Trek Enterprise)


    Medical Bay


    High-Security Inter-Reality Connecting Door (Star Wars Knights of the Old Republic)


    Key Link


    Housing Complex


    Basic Nutrition


    Choice Apartments


    Who''s Got the Powa


    Pipes Pipes Pipes


    Spaceships:


    Tramp Freighter (Destroyed - Respawn on 02/28/2365)


    Sith Interceptor

 Season 1: Episode 7.2 - Machine Love

    Episode 7.2 - Machine Love


    Stardate: 4 1 1 6 8.9


    Earth Standard Date: March 02, 2364.


    Galactic Date: 21st Day of the Second Month, 3956 BBY


    Location: Housing Complex, Personal Reality


    Tyson and Vicky stood inside their shared room in the Housing Complex of the Personal Reality. The room had undergone an upgrade, and the luxury and comfort now rivaled that of a four-star hotel.


    Vicky grabbed Tyson''s hand. "Let''s go check out the shower," she suggested, her voice carrying a hint of playfulness.


    Tyson allowed himself to be led into the bathroom. As they stepped inside, he couldn''t help but marvel at the transformation. The walls were adorned with elegant tiles. A large vanity with a marble countertop and dual sinks decorated one wall, while a spacious bathtub sat close to the center of the room. But it was the shower that truly captured Tyson''s attention. Enclosed by glass panels, the shower boasted multiple showerheads, including an overhead rainfall shower with handheld and wall-mounted heads.


    Vicky reached into the shower and turned the water on. Within moments, steam began to fill the room, creating a misty, inviting atmosphere. She turned to Tyson, a mischievous glint in her eye. "Let''s test it out," she suggested.


    "You''re made of nanobots, you don''t need a shower," Tyson pointed out, "And with the Gray Goo Suit, neither do I."


    Vicky, undeterred by his response, fixed Tyson with a steady gaze. "I don''t need to shower," she clarified, "I want to shower."


    She opened her Armored Robes, allowing them to fall to the floor. As the robes pooled at her feet, they were seamlessly absorbed into her body, the nanobots that comprised her form readily reabsorbed the material, as it was also made of nanobots. Beneath the robes, she still wore a tunic and pants in the traditional Jedi style.


    However, as Vicky noticed Tyson''s hesitation to follow her lead and disrobe, she paused. Turning to face him fully, she spoke, her voice filled with understanding. "I know why you hold back," she began, her eyes searching his. "You are worried about me only offering myself to you because of my programming."


    Tyson squinted slightly. "That obvious?" he asked.


    "You offered for me to become your Companion. We both know that I did so of my own free will. I couldn''t be coerced or convinced to do so. You''ve spent more points on upgrading me to ensure that I''m my own person and that I''m protected than you have on yourself." Vicky reached out, placing her hand gently on Tyson''s arm. "I appreciate everything you''ve done for me. But you need to trust that I can make my own decisions. And that I know what I want."


    Despite her words, Tyson''s face still held a hint of conflict. Sensing his inner turmoil, Vicky allowed her features to morph slowly, taking on the appearance of Alysia. With Alysia''s face and voice, she asked, "Or do you fear attachments?"


    The question caught Tyson off guard. He couldn''t help but snort in amusement. Still wearing the Jedi outfit, she was indistinguishable from Alysia.


    Seeing that her attempts at lightening the mood were working, Vicky allowed her appearance to return to normal. "Don''t worry," she assured him, her voice filled with a mix of playfulness and sincerity. "If you fall to the Dark Side, I''ll bring you back." As if to punctuate her words, Vicky''s hair suddenly shifted from its usual vibrant pink to a deep, inky black. Her face took on a more dramatic appearance, with heavy black makeup accentuating her features. "Or I''ll join you," she added, her voice taking on a seductive, mischievous edge.


    Tyson, unable to resist the allure of her transformed appearance, smiled appreciatively. "Dark Side is a good look on you," he admitted, his eyes tracing the striking contrast of her black hair against her pale skin.


    Pleased by his reaction, she winked playfully. Then, with a subtle shift, her appearance returned to its familiar, pink form. The moment of levity passed, replaced by a sense of genuine understanding. "We good?" she asked, her voice soft and sincere, seeking reassurance that they had navigated the emotional hurdle together.


    Tyson''s hesitation melted away. He nodded. "Yeah, we''re good," he affirmed.


    Vicky didn''t hesitate. She threw herself into Tyson''s arms, her body pressed against his in a gesture of pure, unbridled affection. Their lips met in a deep, passionate kiss.


    As they embraced, the steam from the shower enveloped them, creating a cocoon of intimacy and warmth. The outside world faded away, they were alone, in his Housing Complex. Away from the judgemental Jedi, the threatening Sith fleet, and the still-healing Vulcans.


    At that moment, there was only Tyson and Vicky.


    Their kiss deepened in a dance of lips and tongues. Tyson''s hands roamed over Vicky''s body, marveling at the softness of her skin. Instead of shedding clothes, or stripping, she was slowly absorbing the layers she wore. When they began kissing she had on the tunic and pants, the next thing Tyson knew, she was in lingerie. The transition had been so quick and seamless that he missed when she''d done it.


    She was a wonder, a being of incredible complexity and adaptability. Her potential and capabilities were almost beyond comprehension. Yet she had chosen him, had chosen to stand by his side and join him for all the trials that lay ahead.


    Vicky, in turn, poured all of her affection, all of her devotion, into the kiss. She had evolved beyond the confines of her original programming and had become a true individual with thoughts, desires, and a will of her own.


    Vicky guided Tyson into the luxurious shower. His Gray Goo Suit responded, melting away, seemingly into nothingness, while the remaining of Vicky''s did the same in a silver wave. They stood in the shower naked, the warm water now cascading directly over their bare skin.


    Tyson took a moment to appreciate Vicky''s form, noting that while she appeared human, her body was perfectly sculpted, lacking any imperfections. Her skin was smooth, and her proportions were idealized. Yet despite her artificial origins, looking at Vicky filled Tyson with a profound sense of desire.


    Her eyes met his in a silent invitation. She reached out, running her hands slowly over Tyson''s chest and shoulders, tracing the lines of muscle, and mapping the planes and angles of his Augment physique. Her touch was feather-light yet sent shivers through Tyson''s body. Leaning in, Vicky began placing soft kisses along his collarbone, working her way up his neck until their lips met again. The kiss deepened as Vicky pressed her body against Tyson''s, eliminating any space between them.


    As the water continued to cascade over their entwined forms, Tyson ran his hands down Vicky''s back, marveling at how her body felt. When his hands reached her backside, Vicky let out a small gasp of pleasure, arching into his touch. Their kissing grew more heated, hands roaming and caressing each other with building passion.


    Tyson pulled her flush against him. The evidence of his arousal pressed against her, hard and insistent. Vicky gasped, her artificial nerves ignited. She ground her hips against his, seeking more of that delicious friction. Their lips met in a searing kiss. Tyson''s hands roamed over Vicky''s body, exploring every curve, every dip and swell.


    Vicky grabbed a bar of soap and began lathering Tyson. She soaped his body with deliberate, sensual strokes. Her hands glided over his muscles. The scent of the soap mingled with the steam of the shower, filling the air with a heady aroma.


    He moved to capture her lips, but she placed a hand on his chest, gently stopping him. She smiled up at him, her eyes sparkling with mischief and desire. Vicky''s hands continued their exploration, trailing down his abs until they reached his hardness. She stroked him smoothly, her fingers expertly ratcheting up his arousal. Her touch was light yet firm, and the friction of her soapy hands against his sensitive skin drove him wild with need.


    Then she stopped before pushing him too close to the edge. She handed him the soap bar and turned around, presenting her back to him.


    Tyson accepted the unspoken invitation. He returned the favor, lathering up her body with the same meticulous care she had shown him. His hands roamed over her form, soaping her shoulders, her arms, her back. He spent too long massaging and squeezing her breasts, kneading her firm, round ass, and running his fingers between her legs, exploring her with a reverence that bordered on worship.


    She leaned back against him, her body melding into his, and she could feel his dick hard against her lower back. Slowly, almost seeming as if his mind was playing tricks on him, Tyson watched as Vicky grew taller. Her body adjusted and reshaped itself. In moments, she was able to look back over her shoulder, and he only had to lean down slightly to catch her lips in his own.


    Curious at why she grew taller using her nanobots, he realized as he felt his hardness slide between her ass cheeks. Vicky squeezed her cheeks together, the sensation of his length trapped between them, the slickness of the soap and the water created a delicious friction. As she looked back, kissing him, she went up on her toes and arched her back more, rubbing his length between her cheeks, the motion was deliberate and teasing. Her ass-job was driving him wild, the pleasure bordering on exquisite agony.


    Tyson''s hands gripped her hips, his fingers digging into her flesh as he matched her rhythm. The water from the shower cascaded over them, adding to the eroticism of the moment.


    Vicky, for her part, reveled in the pleasure she was giving him. She could feel the hardness of his cock sliding between her cheeks. Combined with the slickness of the soap it created a sensation that was incredibly arousing. She could feel the pleasure building within the nanobots that made up her body.


    His fingers skimmed over her chest, teasing her nipples into hardened peaks. He reveled in the way her breath hitched, the way her muscles tensed under her touch. Tyson growled low in his throat, the sound was primal and needy. He captured Vicky''s lips once more, the kiss deep and demanding. His hand slid down her abs, cupping her core, feeling the heat and the slickness that awaited him. Tyson''s fingers explored with a gentle insistence, eliciting a moan from Vicky that echoed off the tiled walls of the shower.


    He watched as Vicky''s expression filled with pleasure. "Do you like this?" he asked, his voice husky with desire. He wanted this to be as much about her pleasure as his own.


    Vicky asked, "You tell me?"


    Tyson could sense her emotions, her pleasure, through the Force, and with his Betazoid empathy.


    There was no question¡­ Vicky was real.


    He could sense the depth of her feelings.


    She answered anyway, "Yes, it''s... it''s more than okay," she breathed out, her voice trembling with the intensity of her emotions. "I want this, Tyson. I want you."


    Emboldened by her words, Tyson''s fingers continued their exploration, finding her clit. He circled it slowly gauging her reactions to find just the right amount of pressure and speed.


    Vicky''s response was immediate and visceral. Her body arched into his touch, her breath coming in short, ragged gasps. "Tyson," she moaned, her fingers digging into the muscles of his shoulders, her body moving in time with his rhythm, grinding her ass against him in time with his finger''s strokes.


    With a gasp, she reached the pinnacle of her pleasure, her body shuddering on Tyson''s hand as ecstasy crashed over her. Tyson held her close, his fingers continuing their gentle ministrations as she rode out the aftershocks of her climax, her body quivering with the force of her release.


    As Vicky''s breathing slowly returned to normal, Tyson withdrew his hand, his fingers glistening with the evidence of her arousal. He brought his hand to his lips, tasting her, sweet, intoxicating flavor.


    He muttered, "You can''t taste that good."


    Vicky, still recovering from her orgasm, watched Tyson with heavy-lidded eyes. She reached out, her hand tracing the contours of his face. "I can taste however I want to taste. Thank you very much," she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper. "But now, it''s your turn,"


    Vicky maneuvered them so Tyson''s back was against the shower wall. Breaking the kiss, she trailed her lips down his chest and torso. Her breath was hot against his skin. Tyson shuddered under her touch, his breath hitching as her lips blazed a path downward. She sank to her knees as she reached his lower abdomen.


    Looking up at Tyson with affection and desire, Vicky took him into her mouth.


    Tyson inhaled sharply at the sudden spike of pleasure. He tilted his head back against the tiles and closed his eyes. His fingers instinctively went to her hair. The sensation of her mouth on him, the wet heat enveloping him, was almost too much to bear.


    If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.


    Vicky worked him skillfully. As a pleasure bot, she knew how to play his body like an instrument. Every moan, twitch, and catch of his breath was a note in a symphony she was composing in real time. Tyson''s breaths came faster. His body tensed under the onslaught of sensation.


    He groaned, the pleasure of Vicky''s mouth threatened to overwhelm him. "Vicky..." Her name escaped his lips in a desperate, pleading gasp.


    His fingers tightened reflexively in her hair as she worked him with expert skill. Each clever swipe of her tongue sent spikes of sensation through his nerves, building upon each other until his body tensed like a bowstring drawn taut.


    Tyson''s breaths grew ragged, his chest heaved as he drew in the steam-laden air. Rivulets of condensation trickled down the shower walls, mingling with the beads of sweat that dotted his skin. The cold, slick tile against his back contrasted with the velvety heat of Vicky''s mouth, enveloping his manhood, heightening every sensation.


    "Please," he whimpered, beyond coherence. Vicky had played his body to perfection. She knew how to push him to the brink and keep him suspended at the precipice. His world narrowed down to the wet suction of her mouth and the pounding of blood in his veins as she pushed him ever closer to release.


    She responded to his pleading with a hum of satisfaction. The vibration sent a jolt of pleasure coursing through Tyson''s body. Then to ensure she drove him over the edge, her hands joined in the sensory assault. One slid up his thigh to grab his hip, while the other cupped and teased his sensitive sac.


    The pleasure building within Tyson became a rising tide threatening to sweep away all rational thought.


    Vicky increased her pace. Her movements grew more fervent. And her eyes never left his face. She reveled in the power she held over him in this moment.


    Tyson''s body was wound tight, a coiled spring on the verge of release. Each breath was a struggle in which he fought to maintain control. But Vicky was relentless. Her desire to bring him to the peak of pleasure was evident in every stroke, every caress.


    When she took him deeper; when he felt his head pass into her throat, his control finally snapped. Breathing and gagging were concerns for a human woman, but not for Vicky. With a guttural cry, Tyson surrendered to the pleasure, his body shook with the force of his release. Vicky continued sucking, drawing out his climax until he was spent.


    As the last ripples of pleasure faded away, Tyson looked down at Vicky. She was still on her knees. Her eyes gleamed with satisfaction and a deep, abiding affection. Slowly, she released him from her mouth, her tongue darting out to catch the lingering traces of his release.


    Tyson reached down and lifted Vicky to her feet. His voice was hoarse as he said, "That was... incredible."


    Vicky smiled up at him, radiating happiness. "I''m glad," she replied, "I wanted to make you feel good."


    Tyson turned Vicky around. The water from the shower cascaded down her back. With a gentle but insistent pressure, he pressed her chest against the cool, tiled wall of the shower.


    Vicky let out a moan at his forcefulness. But she complied willingly. Her body responded to his touch with an instinctual eagerness. She bent over, placing her hands flat against the wall for support. The position caused her to arch her back, presenting her full, heart-shaped ass to Tyson with an almost wanton abandon.


    He took a moment to appreciate the sight before him. Vicky''s curves and contours were crafted to perfection. He ran his hands over the soft, supple skin of her backside, tracing the lines of her body. His fingers trailed lower, teasing the cleft between her cheeks before sliding forward to the apex of her thighs.


    Vicky''s breath hitched as Tyson''s fingers made contact with her most intimate area. She expected him to take her then, to claim her.


    Instead, Tyson did something that surprised her.


    He got down on his knees behind her, his face now level with the curve of her ass. Vicky turned her head, looking down past around her hips with a mixture of confusion and anticipation etched upon her features. "What are you doing?" she questioned.


    "I want to taste you again," he said, his voice low and husky with desire. "I want to hear you moan my name as I make you come with my mouth."


    Vicky''s eyes widened at his words, a flush of arousal coloring her cheeks. But she wasn''t going to argue with that. She braced herself against the wall once more as she awaited the first touch of Tyson''s lips upon her flesh.


    Tyson did not make her wait long. He leaned forward, pressing a tender kiss to the small of her back. His lips traveled lower, leaving a trail of warmth in their wake down the curve of her ass and towards the juncture of her thighs.


    Vicky''s breath caught in her throat as Tyson''s mouth finally reached its destination. His tongue darted out, tentatively at first, tasting her with a gentle thoroughness that sent shivers of pleasure coursing through her body.


    Encouraged by her soft, throaty moans, Tyson increased his efforts. His hands gripped her hips, holding her steady as his tongue delved deeper, exploring her folds. Vicky''s responded with an enthusiasm that was both genuine and overwhelming. Her hips bucked against his face as she sought to drive his tongue deeper.


    Tyson''s fingers dug into the soft flesh of her hips, holding her in place as he continued to pleasure her with his mouth. His tongue circled her clit, applying just the right amount of pressure.


    Vicky''s moans grew louder. Her body vibrated with the tension of impending release. "Tyson," she gasped, her voice laced with a desperation that she could no longer contain. "I''m... I''m going to..."


    Her words were cut off by a cry of pure, unadulterated pleasure as her orgasm hit her like a freight train.


    Tyson held her through it all, his mouth never leaving her as he drew out her climax until she was spent and her body sagging between his grasping hands and the shower wall.


    Only then did he rise to his feet. He turned Vicky around to face him, his eyes searching hers for any sign of reluctance. But all he saw there was a profound sense of satisfaction. "I need you," she pleaded.


    Tyson''s answer was to lift Vicky, pulling her against him. She wrapped her legs around his waist as he pressed her against the cool tiles of the shower wall.


    Tyson''s mouth found Vicky''s breast, his tongue swirling around the hardened peak. She arched into his touch, her fingers threaded through his hair. His hand slid between their bodies, once more finding Vicky''s most sensitive spot. He circled with a teasing touch, drawing breathy moans from her lips.


    "Please, give it to me," Vicky gasped, her voice strained with need. "I want to feel you inside me."


    He needed no further encouragement. His hands gripped her thighs, lifting her slightly as he positioned himself. With one long, slow thrust forward, he buried himself to the hilt within her welcoming heat.


    A guttural groan escaped Tyson''s lips as Vicky''s warmth enveloped him. Vicky''s reaction was equally intense. Her back arched sharply, pressing her more firmly against the shower wall. Her body trembled as it accepted his length and the accompanying sensation of delicious fullness.


    "God, Vicky," Tyson breathed, his voice husky with passion. "You feel incredible."


    Vicky could only whimper in response as her fingers dug into his shoulders. She felt stretched, completed, utterly consumed by the man who held her in his arms.


    The nanobots that comprised her could shift her inner volume, to accommodate him in ways that defied human biology. But where was the joy in that? Vicky dismissed the thought. She wanted to feel every inch of him, to experience the full spectrum of sensations that came with their connection.


    Each of Tyson''s thrusts drove Vicky higher, pushing her closer to the edge of ecstasy. She met him thrust for thrust, her hips rolling to take him even deeper with each stroke. The pleasure built within her, a coiling tension that threatened to snap at any moment. She clung to Tyson, her nails dug into his back. His mouth found the curve of her neck, while his hands gripped her hips, guiding her movements, controlling the pace as they spiraled ever higher toward their mutual release.


    Vicky''s moans echoed off the tiled walls, her cries of pleasure mingling with the sound of the falling water. Every nanobot-composed nerve-ending was alight with sensation. Even more, she could feel Tyson''s desire, his need, through the Force.


    Their movements grew frantic, desperate, as they chased that elusive peak. Tyson''s thrusts became harder, deeper, his body slammed into hers with a primal urgency that stole her breath away.


    Vicky''s world narrowed to the feel of Tyson moving within her, the slick slide of their bodies, and the heat that built between them with every passing second. She was teetering on the edge.


    Then, with a final, deep thrust, Tyson sent Vicky over.


    She shattered in his arms, crying out his name as wave after wave of pleasure crashed over her. Her artificial muscles clenched around him, milking his release from him in a series of powerful contractions. Tyson couldn''t stop from following her over the precipice. They clung to each other, their bodies shuddering with shared bliss.


    For long moments, they held each other, their ragged breathing the only sound in the steamy confines of the shower stall. Vicky nuzzled into the curve of Tyson''s neck, placing soft, reverent kisses along the line of his jaw.


    "That was..." she began, her voice trembling with the intensity of her emotions.


    "I know," Tyson murmured, his fingers trailing through her damp hair. He pulled back slightly, his eyes searching hers. He marveled at the depth of feeling he saw reflected there.


    As they came down from their high, Tyson gently lowered Vicky back to her feet. They stood there, foreheads pressed together as the water continued cascading over them.


    Vicky whispered, her voice a sultry purr that sent shivers down Tyson''s spine. "I hope you''re not done yet." She paused before adding with a mischievous glint in her eyes, "I''m programmed with literally thousands of positions."


    "Thousands?" Tyson asked, his eyebrows shooting up in surprise. "How is that possible?"


    "Let me show you," she said, her voice dripping with promise.


    Vicky turned off the water. As she left the shower, her nanobots absorbed the water droplets clinging to her skin. Tyson''s suit did the same. They were both left dry and ready for whatever Vicky had planned next.


    She took Tyson''s hand, leading him out of the bathroom. As they reached the bed, Vicky began to list off some of the positions she had stored in her vast database. "There''s the classic missionary, cowgirl, lotus, reverse cowgirl..." She continued counting the erotic possibilities. "spooning, standing dragon, wheelbarrow, piledriver, butterfly, doggy, reverse piledriver, toad, plow, eagle..."


    Each position sounded more thrilling than the last, promising new heights of pleasure and intimacy. But as Vicky''s litany of lovemaking continued, Tyson felt a growing need.


    Without warning, he reached out and grabbed Vicky. He pulled her toward him, his gaze capturing hers with an intensity that took her breath away. "Pick one," he pleaded, his voice husky with need.


    Vicky''s smile was slow and sensual, her eyes gleaming at Tyson''s assertiveness. "I like that tone," she purred, her fingers trailing down his chest. "So you want me to be in charge?"


    Tyson nodded as Vicky''s hand moved lower, tracing the line of his abdominal muscles. "Yes," he said barely more than a whisper.


    Vicky''s smile widened into something predatory as she gazed at Tyson. "Look at you, giving in to your passions," she purred.


    As she spoke, her appearance began to shift, transforming before Tyson''s eyes. Her cotton-candy pink hair darkened to jet black, and the disheveled twin buns straightened into a sleek curtain that fell past her shoulders. Her makeup changed as well, the natural tones deepening into dramatic blacks and purples that gave her a dangerous, gothic allure. She had taken on the same dark, edgy look from earlier, but this time there was a hungry edge to her beauty. Tyson inhaled sharply, excited by this darker version of the woman before him. Vicky exuded raw sensuality now, her full lips curled in a smirk.


    "Alright," she said, her voice filled with a promise of delights to come. "Let''s try ''Reverse Cowgirl.'' I saw how much you enjoyed looking at my ass before."


    She mounted Tyson, her body facing away from him as she straddled his hips. The new position allowed her to take control, to set the pace and rhythm of their lovemaking, and highlighted the gentle swell of her hips and the toned muscles of her thighs.


    She began to move, her hips undulated in a rhythm that drove Tyson wild with desire. His hands found their way to her hips, fingers digging into her soft skin as she rode him with an expertise that left him breathless. The sight of her, the feel of her riding him, was almost too much to bear. Her hair cascaded down her back as she lost herself in the moment. Vicky''s movements grew more fervent. Tyson''s breath hitched in his throat as her internal muscles clenched around him, the sensation threatening to send him over the edge. He gritted his teeth, fighting back the tide of his impending release. He wanted this to last, to savor every moment.


    Vicky turned her head, her eyes meeting his over her shoulder. The raw hunger he saw there mirrored his own.


    Tyson''s gaze traveled over her form, drinking in the sight of her. Her breasts bounced with each movement, her nipples hardened peaks that begged for his touch. But in this position, he was unable to reach. Instead, his hands cupped and squeezed her ass.


    Vicky moaned at his touch. The sound of her voice, filled with need and desire, was music to Tyson''s ears.


    The tension within Tyson built with each passing second. He could feel the walls of Vicky''s sex tightening around him, a sure sign that she, too, was close to the brink.


    She increased her pace, her hips pistoning against his as she chased release. Tyson''s climax loomed large on the horizon, a tidal wave of pleasure that was about to crash over him.


    Crying out, Vicky''s body convulsed as her orgasm swept through her. The sensation of her climax triggered Tyson''s release, his body arching off the bed as he spilled himself inside her. Their bodies were locked together in a moment of pure ecstasy.


    Vicky shuddered with the force of her climax, her inner walls pulsing around Tyson''s length. But even as the waves of pleasure crested, she refused to let him withdraw. Instead, she spun around, a feat only possible because of her nanobot form.


    Now she faced him in the classic cowgirl position.


    Tyson took in the sight of her new position. She had never stopped riding him. Her skin flushed and glistened with a fine sheen of sweat. Without breaking eye contact, Vicky rolled her hips in a slow, sensual rhythm.


    Gone was the frantic, lust-driven passion of moments before. In its place was something deeper.


    Tyson''s hands found their way to Vicky''s hips, his fingers tracing the curve of her body as she moved above him. She leaned forward, her hair cascading around them like a silken curtain, creating a private world where only they existed. Her lips found Tyson''s, and they shared an achingly tender kiss, yet charged with a simmering intensity that threatened to consume them both. Their bodies moved in perfect synch. His hands roamed over Vicky''s form, committing every curve, every contour to memory. Her movements grew more purposeful, her hips undulating with a rhythm that was both languid and deeply sensual. She drew out their pleasure, prolonging the moment until it seemed to stretch into eternity.


    Their lips met again, and this time, the kiss was a slow, searing exploration of passion and tenderness. Vicky''s tongue danced with Tyson''s. As their kiss deepened, her movements grew more urgent. Tyson''s fingers dug into the soft flesh of her hips, anchoring her to him as they spiraled ever higher toward the precipice of ecstasy.


    The tension built between them, a coiling spring threatening to snap at any moment. Tyson could feel the walls of Vicky''s sex tightening around him, her body drawing him ever deeper into her depths. She broke their kiss, her eyes locked with his as she rode him with renewed intensity. Her breath came in ragged pants, her lips parted in a silent cry of pleasure.


    And then, finally, they tumbled over the edge together. Vicky threw her head back in a cry of release. Tyson followed her. His essence poured into her in a series of powerful pulses.


    For long moments, they clung to each other. Their bodies trembled with the aftershocks of their shared bliss. Vicky''s forehead pressed against Tyson''s, their ragged breaths mingling in the scant space between them.


    Slowly, gradually, their breathing began to even out, their heartbeats slowing to a more measured pace. Vicky''s eyes found Tyson''s, and in that moment, no words were needed.

 Season 1: Episode 8.1 - Deception

    Episode 8.1 - Deception


    Stardate: 41171.6


    Earth Standard Date: March 03, 2364.


    Galactic Date: 22nd Day of the Second Month, 3956 BBY


    Location: Bridge of the Leviathan, In Orbit of Taris


    On the bridge of the Leviathan, the Interdictor-class Sith Flagship, the crew worked diligently at their stations, the hum of machinery and the soft beeps of consoles filled the air. The bridge was a hive of activity, with officers and technicians moving about.


    Suddenly, a communications officer spoke up, his voice cutting through the low din of the bridge. "Admiral Karath, we''re receiving a transmission from the Governor on the surface."


    Admiral Saul Karath, a man with a stern visage and a reputation for ruthless efficiency, turned his attention to the officer. "Patch him through," he ordered.


    A moment later, a small hologram flickered to life on the bridge''s main display. But instead of the Governor''s image, the hologram revealed a Sith Trooper.


    Karath''s brow furrowed, a flicker of annoyance crossing his features. "Where is the Governor?" he demanded in a sharp tone.


    The trooper stood at attention. "I''m Trooper TY50N," they introduced themselves, "I have an urgent message for Lord Malak."


    Karath''s eyes narrowed, his suspicion evident. Messages intended for the Dark Lord of the Sith were not to be taken lightly. "This is Admiral Karath," he replied, "You may relay your message to me. I''ll determine if it reaches Lord Malak."


    The trooper continued, "The base here was attacked yesterday. The Governor was killed." A ripple of unease passed through the bridge crew, the news of the Governor''s demise striking a chord of uncertainty. Karath, however, remained impassive, his expression betraying nothing. The trooper pressed on, their voice taking on a note of self-satisfaction. "However, I personally managed to defeat the intruders. I captured one, who happens to be the Jedi that Lord Malak is seeking. Bastila Shan."


    At the mention of Bastila''s name, the bridge fell silent. The capture of Bastila Shan, the young Jedi with the rare gift of Battle Meditation, had been a top priority for the Sith. The hologram shifted, the image of the trooper replaced by the sight of Bastila, restrained and kneeling. Her brown hair was disheveled, her Jedi robes torn and stained.


    Karath studied the image, his mind racing with the implications of this development. The capture of Bastila was a major victory, a turning point in their campaign against the Republic. With her under their control, the Sith would be unstoppable.


    A slow, calculating smile spread across Karath''s face. "A tragic yet fortunate situation," he remarked, his voice dripping with a mix of sarcasm and satisfaction. "Bring the prisoner to the Leviathan. Lord Malak will be pleased."


    The hologram flickered as the trooper nodded their agreement. "Yes, Admiral. I will personally escort her to your ship. She will not escape."


    Karath''s eyes glinted with a cruel light. "See that she doesn''t, trooper. Your diligence will be rewarded. Bear in mind, Lord Malak is not forgiving of failure."


    "Understood, Admiral. I will not fail."


    With that, the transmission ended, the hologram blinking out of existence.


    Karath turned to his second-in-command, "Prepare a welcoming party for our esteemed guest," he ordered, "I will inform Lord Malak of this development. He will want to be present for her interrogation."


    The officer nodded, "Of course, Admiral. I''ll see to it."


    As the bridge crew set about their tasks with renewed purpose, Karath allowed himself a moment of satisfaction. The capture of Bastila Shan was a triumph. With her power under their control, the Republic would fall, and the galaxy would kneel before the dark glory of the Sith Empire.


    But even as he savored the victory, a flicker of unease passed through Karath''s mind. The trooper''s report had been unusual, and their demeanor not quite fitting the mold of a typical Sith soldier. Plus the attack on the Governor''s base, the death of the Governor himself... something about it didn''t sit right. Karath pushed the thought aside, dismissing it as a product of his paranoia. Their blockade had been effective. It had driven the Jedi to be desperate enough to assault a Sith base, undoubtedly seeking the codes to escape the planet. If they killed the Governor, then they''d nearly succeeded. Bastila Shan had been captured and that was all that mattered. The rest could be sorted out later, once the Jedi was safely in their custody. He turned his gaze to the viewport, the vast expanse of space stretching out before him.


    Soon, Karath mused, the Republic would fall, and a new era would rise, with the Sith as its unquestioned masters.


    ¡ª Star Jumper ¡ª


    Admiral Karath kept his hands clasped rigidly behind his back, standing at attention as he watched a modified Sith Interceptor glide into the hangar bay of the Leviathan. The vessel''s unusual configuration caught his eye; the cockpit had been extended and raised, creating a dome-like structure that could accommodate a small number of passengers. It was a clever design, one that likely hadn''t compromised the ship''s agility or combat capabilities in battle.


    Beside Karath, two dark Jedi masters stood silent and menacing. Lord Malak himself had tasked them with overseeing the secure transfer of their valuable prisoner, Bastila Shan. If this trooper failed to deliver the Jedi, these Dark Jedi would ensure he paid the price.


    With a hiss of depressurization, the Interceptor''s door slid open. A Sith trooper emerged fully encased in his black and silver armor. In his gauntleted hand, he held a chain connected to a collar locked around Bastila''s slender neck. The once proud Jedi followed behind him, her head bowed, her confident bearing replaced by an air of defeat.


    The trooper marched up to Admiral Karath and the dark Jedi, his armored boots clanking against the floor of the hangar bay. Though his features were hidden behind an expressionless helmet, his confident posture spoke of a man on an important mission. The Jedi followed behind him, her shoulders slumped in defeat.


    "Admiral Karath," the trooper said, his voice emerging robotic and distorted through his helmet''s vocoder. "I have brought the prisoner as ordered."


    Karath nodded, his cold eyes fixed on Bastila. "Well done, trooper. The dark Jedi will take her from here."


    The trooper stood motionless for a moment tightening his grip on Bastila''s chain. "With all due respect, Admiral," he replied firmly. "I must insist on escorting the prisoner to her holding cell myself."


    One of the dark Jedi spat in disgust. "That won''t be necessary. We are more than capable of handling the prisoner." Though his words were calm, his tone held the promise of violence should the trooper continue to defy him.


    Unfazed, the trooper stood his ground, refusing to hand Bastila over. "I understand your concerns, master Jedi, but I will not risk her escape and incur Lord Malak''s wrath." His stance remained unwavering, his commitment unshakable.


    Karath raised an eyebrow, impressed by the trooper''s boldness. It was unusual for a mere soldier to challenge the authority of the dark Jedi. "And what makes you think you are better suited to this task than these Jedi, trooper?" The Admiral asked.


    The trooper turned to face Karath. Though his voice remained steady, a hint of pride colored his words. "I captured the Jedi myself, Admiral. An accomplishment no other soldier here can claim." He straightened slightly. "I know her strengths and her weaknesses better than any other. I am the best equipped among you to anticipate any attempt at escape."


    The dark Jedi bristled at the trooper''s words, their hands drifting to rest on the hilts of their lightsabers in warning. "You overstep your bounds, trooper," one of them hissed, the threat clear in his tone. "The prisoner is our responsibility now."


    Karath held up a hand, forestalling the dark Jedi''s anger. He studied the trooper with new consideration, thinking over the soldier''s claims. The man had a point. Who better to guard the prisoner than the one who had captured her?


    "Very well," Karath said at last. "The trooper will accompany us to the holding cell." He leveled a stern finger at the soldier. "But be warned, if the prisoner escapes, her fate will rest on your head alone."


    The trooper nodded, posture relaxing slightly in relief. "I understand completely, Admiral. She will not escape under my watch, you have my word." His voice rang with confidence.


    Satisfied, Karath turned and strode down the corridor, the dark Jedi and stalwart trooper following close behind.


    They traversed a series of corridors to reach the holding cells. An energy field hummed and shimmered across the cell''s entrance. It was turned off momentarily, allowing the dark Jedi to roughly shove Bastila inside. She staggered but quickly regained her balance as the energy field snapped back into place behind her.


    Admiral Karath turned to the Sith soldier, a thin smile spread across his weathered face. "Well done, trooper. Your skill and dedication in capturing such a valuable prisoner will not go unrewarded. I''ll personally see to it that you receive a promotion and official commendation for this. Not to mention the bounty for her capture."


    "Thank you, Admiral. I was merely performing my duty."


    Satisfied, Karath clapped the loyal trooper on the shoulder and steered him away from the cell''s shimmering energy barrier. "Come. Let us leave the Jedi to their duties. Walk with me."


    As they strode through the Leviathan, Karath let out a weary sigh. "It''s good to be away from those dark Jedi, isn''t it? Make no mistake, they have their uses, but they''re not true soldiers like us. They don''t think or act as we do, at least not until they''ve endured the trials of combat."


    "You''re right, Admiral. That was my advantage against Bastila. She relied too heavily on her vaunted Force abilities and neglected basic tactics. It left her vulnerable."


    Karath chuckled dryly, slowly shaking his head. "Overconfidence is a weakness shared by many Jedi. They believe their connection to the Force makes them invincible. But as you''ve proven here today, a trooper, a skilled and strategic soldier can outmaneuver and defeat even the most powerful Jedi."


    Admiral Karath led the way to the nondescript door of the barracks. Karath slowed his brisk pace. "You know, it''s damn refreshing to see a soldier like yourself making a real difference in this war," he rumbled. "Too often, all the glory and credit goes to those Force-users and their supposed supernatural abilities." He huffed out a dismissive breath. "But it''s men like you, the backbone of our military, who truly shift the tide of battle."


    The trooper drew himself up taller, pride swelling in his chest at the admiral''s words. "I''m honored to serve the cause, sir. And grateful for the opportunity to prove my mettle on the field."


    Karath''s mouth curved in a thin smile. "Get some rest, soldier. You''ve earned it." His pale eyes glinted with approval. "With your skills, you may find yourself leading your own battalion before long."


    The door slid shut, leaving the admiral alone in the empty corridor. Karath allowed himself a small sense of satisfaction. In a war dominated by the arcane powers of the Jedi and Sith, it was still the common soldiers who made the greatest impact.


    -- Star Jumper --


    The barracks held five other Sith troopers huddled around a table, engrossed in a game of pazaak, a card game similar to blackjack. The familiar sound of cards being shuffled and the occasional grunt of frustration filled the air.


    As Tyson moved towards the terminal in the room, one of the troopers glanced up from his hand. "Hey, new guy! Want in on the game?"


    Tyson paused, turning to face the trooper. "Just got here from the surface. Never been on a ship this size before, I need to learn the layout."


    The Sith trooper grunted, his attention already back on his cards. "Suit yourself."


    Tyson turned back to the terminal, pulling up the schematics of the Leviathan. The Interdictor-class cruiser stretched 600 meters from angular bow to stern. Its design evoked the familiar wedge shape of an Imperial Star Destroyer, but with a more narrow profile, rounded edges, and a distinctive semicircular cutout slicing through the center of the ship. When viewed from the side, the Leviathan''s silhouette resembled a crab''s pincer.


    Despite its mammoth size, the ship only contained four decks layered compactly between dorsal and ventral hulls. The interior was divided into two primary levels, with the bridge situated above the upper level and the hangar bay sprawling across the belly of the lower deck. Tyson''s sparse barracks was located on the lower of the primary levels, deck three. This deck also contained detention blocks, cell blocks, droid maintenance bays, and a medical center. He studied the schematics intently, committing the layout to memory and downloading it to his HUD.


    If you stumble upon this tale on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.


    Tyson''s thoughts drifted to Vicky, who was posing as Bastila Shan in the detention area. He wasn''t concerned for her safety in the slightest; Vicky''s nanobots could easily turn off her pain receptors. Any torture methods employed by her captors would be rendered ineffective. There was no damage they could inflict that she couldn''t heal, no agony she couldn''t ignore.


    Not wanting to draw too much attention to himself by snooping around the sparse barracks, Tyson stepped out into the corridor. The hallway was empty, giving him the perfect opportunity to use his Access Key on the panel next to the door. With a soft hiss, an opening to his Personal Reality opened before him. Tyson could now return to the barracks here using the Access Key if the need arose later.


    Instead of heading straight to the detention area to free Vicky, Tyson set his sights on the droid maintenance section located elsewhere on the lower deck. It might have seemed like an unusual choice, but Tyson was determined to seek out any upgrades or useful tools he could find while he had free reign of the ship.


    As he entered the droid maintenance area, Tyson spotted a lone technician working on a droid. The technician''s armor was identical to his standard Sith trooper attire. There wasn''t an observable way to distinguish Tyson as an outsider, save for his larger size. The technician glanced up, eyeing Tyson warily, but ultimately decided it was better to leave the imposing figure alone than to question his presence.


    Tyson approached a workbench littered with droid parts and began sifting through the components. It didn''t take long for him to find what he was looking for, an energy shield, Grade 2, identical in strength to the one Vicky possessed. With one hand, Tyson''s Gray Goo Suit absorbed the energy shield, while his other hand continued to rummage through the parts, the continued movement concealing his theft.


    As he searched further, Tyson discovered a set of Class 3 droid motion sensors, the most advanced sensors available. Without hesitation, his suit absorbed those as well.


    The technician, growing increasingly curious, finally spoke up. "Is there anything I can help you find?"


    Tyson turned to face the technician. "Is this all the parts that are available? What I''m looking for isn''t here."


    The technician, eager to avoid angering the larger Sith, replied, "There''s a Droid Bay one level up. They have all the most advanced, functioning parts. Most of the stuff that makes its way down here is spare parts or salvage."


    Tyson nodded, offering a curt "thanks" before leaving the droid maintenance section. Once again, he found himself in the corridor, ensuring no one was nearby before using his Access Key to open the way to his Personal Reality.


    Tyson paused. The droid maintenance section was only a short distance from the detention area that held Vicky. But he stuck to his plan, and did not turn in that direction. Instead, Tyson pivoted and strode with purpose in the opposite direction. His next destination lay at the furthest east point shown on the heads-up display''s map of the Leviathan.


    The elevator doors hissed as they slid open, and Tyson stepped inside the compact space. He selected the next level on the control panel, and the doors sealed shut once more. A faint hum filled the small chamber as it began its ascent. Within seconds, the doors parted again with another hiss, opening onto the requested floor. Tyson turned right upon exiting. He approached the first door on the left side of the corridor and it slid open automatically as he drew near. Striding with determination into the droid bay, Tyson scanned the room. Various mechanical apparatuses lined the walls, with a handful of technicians milling about their work.


    Inside the droid bay, Tyson was greeted by the sight of three war droids standing motionless along the far wall. Their glowing photoreceptors followed his every move, but the combat protocols that would engage them in battle remained inactive. In the corner loomed an imposing assault droid, similar to the one Tyson had faced in the Sith base on the planet''s surface. Its heavy armor plating and large energy shield generator marked it as a formidable foe.


    Tyson eyed the assault droid warily, remembering how Vicky''s attempt to absorb a similar droid had triggered an attack back in the Sith base. He had no desire to provoke the droid''s defenses and risk raising an alarm.


    He approached the console and began navigating through the interface.


    SYSTEM LOADING...


    COMPLETE...


    ENTER COMMAND.


    Tyson''s fingers hovered over the console as he hesitated. He lacked the authorization needed to enter system commands without setting off alarms. Unwilling to risk detection, he turned his attention back to studying the assault droid.


    Taking note of its design and capabilities in case he needed to face it in combat; Tyson inspected its heavy armor and advanced weapons systems. The advanced technology housed within the assault droid tempted him, but he knew pressing his luck further could jeopardize the mission. He had already acquired the shield. That was the upgrade he desperately sought; discretion was the better course of action. With a final, considering look at the dormant assault droid, Tyson turned and exited the droid bay, setting his sight on reaching the bridge.


    The long corridor leading to the elevator was lined with heavy blast doors, reminiscent of ones seen in the Phantom Menace. Tyson knew that in an emergency, these doors could seal, cutting off all access to the bridge above.


    The elevator ascended swiftly and when its doors slid open, Tyson found himself facing another long corridor, this one ending in a sealed door barring his path to the bridge. Attempting to force entry would be unwise, Tyson knew.


    Instead, he retrieved the Access Key and inserted it into the door''s control panel. With a soft hiss, the door slid open, allowing entry into his Personal Reality. Once inside, the door closed behind him.


    He had used the Access Key in this manner so that he had the means to bypass the sealed blast doors guarding the bridge, should they activate. Now he had a simple way around them.


    Inside the pocket dimension, Tyson approached the pedestal and activated the device, selecting a different exit point. When he emerged, Tyson found himself standing back in the corridor outside the droid maintenance bay, back on the lower level of the Leviathan.


    The pieces of his plan were falling into place, and with the upgrade he had acquired and the strategic use of his Access Key, Tyson felt confident in his ability to succeed. The time had come to retrieve Vicky


    Tyson''s thoughts turned to who might be standing guard over Bastila. Finally he reached the heavily armored doors guarding the detention block.


    Before he could take another step, a stern voice called out from behind, "Hold it right there, trooper." Tyson turned to see two Dark Jedi approaching, their hands drifting towards the lightsaber hilts on their belts. Their faces were obscured by menacing masks, but Tyson could sense their suspicion and hostility.


    "What business do you have in the detention area?" demanded the first in a sharp tone.


    Tyson maintained a calm demeanor, responding, "I am the trooper who brought in the prisoner, Bastila Shan. I came to inspect the cell and ensure there were no issues with her confinement." The lie flowed smoothly off his tongue.


    The second Dark Jedi answered, "Good timing, trooper. We were on our way to find you. Lord Malak wishes to speak with you immediately." Tyson nodded, feigning compliance as he asked, "Shall we proceed to the bridge then?"


    The Jedi shook his head. "The bridge? No. Lord Malak is interrogating the prisoner himself inside the detention block."


    Tyson steadied his nerves as he followed the Dark Jedi into the detention block, knowing he would come face-to-face with the Sith Lord.


    The stench of sweat and fear hung heavy in the air of the hallway lined with cell doors. At the far end, the hall opened up into a large hexagonal room. Tyson could make out Malak''s imposing silhouette within.


    He was not alone. Two other Dark Jedi flanked Malak. Tyson''s escorts led him towards the open cell, lightsabers gripped tightly in their hands but not yet ignited.


    Within the center of the room was a circular energy field, and Vicky was trapped within. She was still disguised as Bastila, looking disheveled and worn. A flash of worry crossed Tyson''s face behind his mask at seeing his companion imprisoned. Knowing she was imprisoned, and potentially being tortured was one thing, seeing it was another.


    A simple sentence flashed across his heads-up display, transmitted surreptitiously from Vicky.


    "I''m fine."


    Tyson felt a small sense of relief, though the situation was worse than he expected.


    He was glad she was okay, but the situation was dire. The chamber was filled with Dark Jedi. At the center stood Darth Malak. At his side were two Dark Jedi Masters, garbed in black robes and armor reminiscent of Darth Bandon, the Sith he''d defeated on the Endar Spire. Their hands rested on the hilts of their lightsabers, ready to ignite the red blades at a moment''s notice.


    Behind Tyson stood the two Dark Jedi who had escorted him into the chamber. Five dark siders in total. Tyson would need to choose his moment carefully if he hoped to prevail against these odds. He would need all his wits and skill to face Darth Malak, the Dark Jedi, and escape this detention block with Vicky alive.


    Malak''s chilling voice echoed down the passage. "Ah, the trooper who delivered the Jedi to me. I''ve been expecting you." The hum of his activated red lightsaber cast an ominous crimson glow across the cell''s interior.


    Tyson kept his focus fixed on the Dark Lord. Despite Malak''s intimidating presence, he willed himself to remain calm and collected.


    Malak''s piercing gaze narrowed as he studied Tyson. "You''ve impressed me, trooper. The prisoner told me of your... unorthodox tactics against her." Malak''s eyes seemed to bore into Tyson''s very soul.


    The two Dark Jedi Masters stood poised at Malak''s side, hostility simmering just below the surface as they watched Tyson, awaiting their master''s command. Tyson sensed their desire to cut him down where he stood through his empathy, but they remained still for the moment.


    "No...not just talent. I sense more within you. A connection to the Force." Malak let out a chilling chuckle. "It was no mere skill or luck that allowed you to defeat a Jedi. You yourself are Force-sensitive. I can feel it." The Sith Lord began laughing harder. "Karath will be so disappointed when he finds out, he was excited to see a common soldier capturing a Jedi."


    "I have a proposal for you, trooper," Malak continued. "My apprentice Darth Bandon was killed earlier this week, and the Sith Governor perished when the Jedi and her allies attacked in a futile bid to escape Taris. But you stopped her." Malak paused, letting his words hang in the air. "Join me, and I will teach you the true power of the dark side. Together, we can crush the Jedi and impose order upon the galaxy." His voice rang with persuasion, but Tyson saw through the Sith Lord''s hollow promises.


    Tyson chose his words carefully. "I''m honored by your offer, Lord Malak." His tone was humble, but he knew he was walking a thin line. Refusing Malak outright could prove fatal.


    One of the Dark Jedi Masters interrupted, his voice laced with barely contained rage. "Lord Malak, you would take this common trooper as your new apprentice?" He gestured dismissively at Tyson. "There are those of us who''ve followed you since you were an apprentice yourself. You would spurn us for an upstart?" His eyes narrowed dangerously. "Seizing power is the way of the Sith. If you would take him as your apprentice, I would challenge him for the position!"


    A tense silence fell over the cell as all eyes turned towards Malak. The Sith Lord''s expression remained unreadable, but Tyson sensed a flicker of amusement deep within Malak''s emotions.


    "Well, well, well," Malak rumbled, his voice a sinister purr. "I have a feeling this trooper has more potential than you realize." His masked gaze shifted back to the indignant Dark Jedi Master. "Very well. Let us see what mettle this one possesses."


    With a subtle nod from Malak, the two Dark Jedi Masters flanking him ignited their crimson lightsabers in unison.


    ¡ª Star Jumper ¡ª


    The throne room of Davik Kang''s estate was lavishly decorated, with intricate tapestries adorning the walls and polished floors that reflected the overhead chandeliers. At the far end of the expansive chamber stood a massive black stone throne, upon which Davik Kang now reclined. Beside him was the icy-eyed Calo Nord, regarding the newcomers with a mixture of suspicion and disdain.


    As Canderous led Avner and Carth into the room, Davik leaned forward, curiosity glinting in his eyes. "Canderous, I see you''ve brought guests. Most intriguing. You usually travel alone."


    Calo''s lip curled in a sneer, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "It''s not like you to take on partners, Canderous. You''re getting soft."


    Canderous bristled at the insult, his hand twitching toward the blaster on his hip. "Watch yourself, Calo. You may be the newest kath hound, but you''re not top dog yet."


    Davik held up a hand, his voice sharp with authority. "Enough. I''ll not have my top men killing each other over petty squabbles. That''s bad for business. I''m sure Canderous has a good reason for this change in his usual habits." He turned his gaze expectantly toward the Mandalorian.


    Canderous nodded. "This is a special case, Davik. I''ve brought you someone the Exchange might want to recruit. You may have already heard something of their recent exploits."


    Comprehension dawned on Davik''s face as he took in Avner''s appearance, and a smile spread across his lips. "Ah yes, now I recognize your companion¡­ the rider who won the big swoop race. Very impressive."


    Avner stepped forward, his voice steady and confident as he finally met the crime lord face to face. "Good to meet you, Davik. I''m Avner."


    Davik Kang''s smile widened, "You know, Canderous was right. The Exchange is always looking for new talent, and with your recent exploits, you could have a bright future with us."


    Leaning back on his throne, Davik steepled his fingers before him contemplatively. "With a recommendation from Canderous and a thorough background check, you could become part of the Exchange. Many would kill to prove themselves worthy of such an honor."


    Avner nodded thoughtfully. "Your proposal interests me, Davik."


    Rising from his throne, Davik''s robes swirled around him as he beckoned them to follow. "Come, I''ll give you a tour of my operations. I''m certain you''ll be impressed."


    As they followed Davik through the winding corridors of his lavish estate, Avner and Carth couldn''t help but be impressed by the sheer scale of the criminal operation. Heavily armed guards patrolled the halls, and priceless works of art adorned the walls.


    Davik led them through opulent chambers, each more impressive than the last. Gaming rooms hosted high-stakes sabacc. Lounges where alluring slave girls danced and entertained guests. Armories overflowing with enough weapons and armor to outfit a small army.


    Throughout the tour, Davik kept up a steady stream of commentary. He spoke of his plans once he acquired the Sith departure codes, the power and influence he would wield in the underworld. He boasted of his connections and resources, making it clear he was a major force to be reckoned with on Taris.


    Finally, they reached the hangar bay. Davik Kang led them to the Ebon Hawk. Davik ran an appreciative hand along the metal flank, his eyes alight with possessive pride.


    "Ah, there she is. The Ebon Hawk. The fastest ship in the Outer Rim!" He motioned to the security panel affixed beside the lowered boarding ramp. His voice took on a warning edge. "Note the state-of-the-art system I''ve installed to protect her. Impenetrable shields. Not a soul can get past them without the codes." His expression darkened, brow furrowing in frustration. "Unfortunately, the Sith military blockade has grounded my vessel. The Ebon Hawk can outrun any ship in the galaxy, but even she can''t evade the auto-targeting cannons orbiting Taris. I am working on acquiring the Sith departure codes, of course, so I can come and go freely. But progress has been slow." He sighed, then gestured for them to continue. "Well, let us proceed with the tour."


    Davik stopped outside a set of luxurious guest quarters. Turning to face Avner, his expression grew serious. "These will be your accommodations during your stay. The slave quarters are just down the corridor should you require their services. Food, massage, anything you need. If the background check goes well, you''ll be invited to join the Exchange. I advise accepting the offer when it comes, lest you suffer dire consequences for refusal."


    Avner nodded, his voice brimming with confidence. "I look forward to working with you, Davik."


    Davik''s eyes narrowed, his tone taking on an edge of warning. "You''ll remain in these rooms as my honored guest for the next few days. I''ll brook no argument on this. Feel free to visit the slaves anytime. However, if you''re found wandering beyond the guest wing, or bothering my other guests, my security forces will deal with you harshly. I''ll return once your background check is complete. Until then, make yourself at home. Come, Calo, let us leave our guests in peace."


    As Davik Kang and Calo Nord departed the guest quarters, Canderous turned to Avner and Carth, his rugged features set in a serious expression. "Well, we''ve managed to infiltrate Davik''s estate, but that was only the first step. Now we need to figure out a way past the Ebon Hawk''s security system so we can retrieve the rest of your crew and escape this planet for good."


    They had made it this far into the crime lord''s den, but with Davik''s security forces measures, it would take cunning to pull off their escape.

 Season 1: Episode 8.2 - Two on One

    Episode 8.2 - Two on One


    Stardate: 41171.7


    Earth Standard Date: March 03, 2364.


    Galactic Date: 22nd Day of the Second Month, 3956 BBY


    Location: Detention area of the Leviathan, In Orbit of Taris


    The crimson glow of the Dark Jedi Masters'' lightsabers advanced on Tyson. His mind raced through his options. Hidden at his back, within his Gray Goo Suit, his own Lightsaber and Laser Sword lay ready to be drawn in an instant. With his Sever Force perk, he could easily cut off one of the masters from their connection to the Force and cut them down, evening the odds.


    However, Tyson hesitated, recognizing his current advantage. Malak and the other Dark Jedi remained unaware of his ability to sever their connection to the Force, unaware of his weapons, and also didn''t know he had rudimentary control over other basic Force powers. If he struck down one of the approaching masters in the initial exchange, he risked exposing his true capabilities. The last thing he needed was to find himself outnumbered four or five to one, especially with Vicky still trapped in the energy cell.


    No, Tyson decided. He would hold his Force abilities in reserve as a last resort, relying instead on his Augment abilities and other Perks to withstand the Dark Jedi Masters. For now, the element of surprise was his best weapon.


    With lightning-fast reflexes, Tyson leaped backward, his hands instinctively reaching for the blaster pistols at his sides. He drew the weapons in a flash, assuming a dual-wielding stance as he rapidly squeezed the triggers. Each hand targeted a different approaching Jedi, sending a hail of blaster bolts toward them.


    The Dark Jedi Masters'' lightsabers whirled in a dizzying display of red light as they deflected many of the incoming shots. However, the barrage of blaster fire served its purpose, slowing their advance and buying Tyson precious seconds to assess the situation.


    One of the master''s voices dripped with disdain. "You are no match for the power of the dark side."


    Tyson smirked beneath his helmet, his fingers never leaving the triggers of his blasters. "You''d be surprised what I''m capable of," he retorted in a tone laced with confidence.


    "Your bravado will be your undoing," the second master warned, his lightsaber humming menacingly.


    Tyson continued to fire, his shots forcing the Dark Jedi to maintain their defensive stances. He knew that he couldn''t keep this up indefinitely, but every second he could delay their advance bought him a moment to come up with a plan.


    Tyson smirked beneath his helmet as he considered the non-Force-related tricks he had up his sleeve. He absorbed the energy shield from droid maintenance earlier. While it would only hold for so long against the lightsabers, it would buy him precious seconds.


    His Sith armor was also no ordinary suit, it was his Gray Goo suit, which had absorbed the properties of the beskar armor Tyson had looted from Bendak Starkiller after their duel. Beskar was lightsaber resistant. Together with the shield, it would give him a chance to survive or even take a number of strikes from the Dark Jedi head-on, granting him an advantage.


    For closer combat, Tyson had vibroswords. But the durasteel blades would not withstand a lightsaber. He could not risk locking blades with the Dark Jedi. The vibrosword could serve as a distraction, rather than his primary means of attack.


    Tyson kept his blaster pistols firing, the brilliant bolts forcing the Dark Jedi back as they deflected them away with swift sweeps of their lightsabers. He rolled to the side, narrowly dodging a slash from one of the masters that passed mere inches from his face. The searing heat of the plasma blade washed over him.


    The corridor echoed with the rapid staccato of blaster fire and the electric hum of lightsabers. The air grew thick with the acrid tang of ozone and the palpable tension of the ongoing battle.


    The lead Dark Jedi Master''s eyes narrowed, his frustration visibly mounting as Tyson continued leaping back to keep him at range with the blasters. With a feral snarl of rage, the Jedi called upon the Force. His lightsaber flew from his grasp, hurtling through the air toward Tyson''s chest in a deadly spinning arc.


    Tyson could feel the weight of the Force propelling the cylindrical hilt, the Jedi Master''s telekinetic power guiding it through the air with lethal precision. In that split second, Tyson called his personal energy shield into existence around himself.


    The crimson plasma blade slammed against the barrier with a resounding crack. The superheated plasma edge sputtered and hissed as it met the glowing force field. The shield held firm, deflecting the lightsaber and leaving it hovering mere inches from Tyson''s chest, the energy field protecting him from harm.


    A triumphant grin spread across Tyson''s face as he realized the opportunity before him. Before the Dark Jedi Master could reassert control over the hovering weapon, Tyson''s hand shot out in a blur. In an instant he stowed his blaster pistol in its holster, then his fingers closed around the ridged metal hilt of the lightsaber.


    With a triumphant grin, Tyson closed his fingers around the ridged metal hilt of the lightsaber. The Dark Jedi Master''s eyes widened in disbelief, his face contorting into an expression of impotent fury as he watched his own elegant and lethal weapon now turned against him. "Impossible!" he snarled, his voice dripping with venomous rage.


    Tyson twirled the cylindrical hilt smoothly in his hand, never taking his eyes off his opponent. The Dark Jedi Master''s gaze followed the movement of the blade intently. Tyson pointed his other hand at the now weaponless Dark Jedi Master and fired his blaster pistol. The room fell silent as the three shots found their mark. Two to the chest and one directly between the eyes as the Dark Jedi Master crumbled to the ground.


    "Not so impossible," Tyson taunted.


    The second Dark Jedi Master stepped forward, the crimson glow of his lightsaber casting menacing shadows across his face. He held the blade before him in a defensive stance, ready to strike. "You dare to wield the weapon of a true Sith?" he snarled, his voice dripping with contempt.


    "I dare to do whatever it takes to survive," Tyson replied evenly, twirling the cylindrical hilt in his hand. This weapon had shifted the balance, and he intended to press his newfound advantage. Assuming a defensive posture, Tyson held the stolen lightsaber before him, prepared to deflect any incoming blows.


    The second Dark Jedi Master hesitated, his confidence shaken. The corridor fell silent, save for the crackling hum of the lightsabers and the ragged breathing of the combatants. Tension hung thick in the air as they eyed each other warily, each waiting for the other to make the first move.


    Tyson''s grip tightened around the ridged metal hilt, his muscles coiled and ready to react in an instant. Though outmatched in skill, the weapon had evened the odds. He focused intently, attuning his hybrid Betazoid senses to anticipate his opponent''s actions. Reaching out with his empathy, Tyson could feel the Dark Jedi Master''s resolve faltering. Seeing his comrade cut down by a mere trooper, now armed with their weapon, had shaken him. Beneath the bravado, Tyson sensed discomfort, then anger, and the first stirrings of fear. The Dark Jedi''s confidence in his superiority was eroding.


    The sinister laughter of Darth Malak echoed through the cold durasteel corridor. The Dark Lord''s voice dripped with dark amusement as he declared, "Seizing power is the way of the Sith. You seized that weapon and his life. Certainly worthy of being my apprentice."


    Tyson tightened his grip on the ridged metal hilt of the stolen lightsaber. He eyed Malak warily, probing outward with his Betazoid senses to ascertain the intentions behind the Sith Lord''s words.


    Malak turned his baleful gaze upon the two remaining Dark Jedi who had escorted Tyson to the detention area. His expression was one of utter disdain as he demanded, "Will any of you challenge his right? Or have the three of you been cowed by this upstart?"


    A tense silence hung in the air as the Dark Jedi exchanged uncertain glances, hesitation rolling off them in waves that Tyson could sense with his empathy. Their confidence had been shaken.


    Then, with a resounding snap-hiss, the two Dark Jedi ignited their crimson lightsabers in unison. The angry glow of the plasma blades cast their faces in sinister hues, their features twisted into masks of grim determination.


    "So be it," growled one, dropping into an offensive-ready stance.


    In a blur of sudden motion, the two Dark Jedi charged toward Tyson, their deadly blades raised high. Tyson''s reflexes kicked into overdrive as he snapped his stolen weapon up to deflect the first blistering strike.


    The corridor erupted into a frenzied clash of lightsabers and blaster bolts. Tyson moved with extraordinary agility to deflect the relentless assault from both sides. His stolen lightsaber hummed and crackled as it met the crimson blades of the Dark Jedi, the superheated plasma edges sputtering with each impact. With his blaster pistol, he fired off a rapid volley of shots at his opponents. The bolts streaked through the air, forcing the Dark Jedi to divide their attention between parrying the blaster fire and pressing forward with their lightsaber attacks.


    Tyson''s movements became a blur as he twisted and contorted his body to avoid the deadly arcs of the Dark Jedi''s blades. He parried and riposted in a dizzying flurry, his stolen lightsaber a swirling vortex of crimson energy as he fought to keep the Dark Jedi at bay.


    Then the Dark Jedi Master charged back into the fray, his lightsaber slashing in a vicious horizontal strike aimed at Tyson''s midsection. Tyson pivoted smoothly on his heel, twisting his body in a fluid motion as he brought his own blade down to meet the brutal incoming blow.


    The two lightsabers collided with a thunderous crack, the superheated plasma edges hissing and sputtering as they ground against each other.


    The clash of plasma blades hissed and sputtered as Tyson locked sabers with the Dark Jedi Master. In that frozen moment of deadlock, the other two Dark Jedi seized the opportunity to strike. One''s crimson blade arced high overhead, poised to cleave Tyson''s exposed back in two, while the other thrust forward in a viper-like lunge, aimed at piercing his ribs.


    Time slowed to a crawl as Tyson''s senses heightened. His hybrid Betazoid empathy and passive connection to the Force allowed him to anticipate the lethal blows. Mustering his Augment strength, he grunted with exertion and disengaged, shoving back against the Master''s saber. Pivoting smoothly, he swept his blade up in a broad defensive arc. Shii-Cho''s wide motions were ideal for battling multiple foes. The push had knocked back the Dark Jedi Master, giving Tyson a moment to focus on the other attacks hurtling toward him.


    The overhead slash was closer, nearly upon him. But the lunging thrust was a smaller target for deflection. Blocking one would leave him skewered or slashed by the other. So Tyson spun to the side instead, evading the stabbing blade and moving clear of its range. His motion interposed the slashing Dark Jedi between himself and the other attacker. As the Jedi brought his sizzling saber down, following Tyson''s movement, his attack was parried by the sweep of Tyson''s lightsaber.


    Tyson shifted his stance, narrowing his focus to the two immediate threats before him. The Dark Jedi Master had recovered his footing and now stood to Tyson''s left, while the other Dark Jedi remained directly ahead, forming a straight line with the third foe who lingered further back. Their inline position blocked the third Dark Jedi''s line of attack, making him a lesser concern for now.


    The forward Dark Jedi was nearest, and Tyson marked him as the first target. But then the Force eddied and swirled around the Dark Jedi Master in a gathering storm. Rather than manifesting as a physical attack, the Master channeled the power inward, imbuing himself with supernatural speed. The Master dashed forward, closing the short distance between them. Seizing upon Tyson''s momentary distraction, the closer Dark Jedi chose that instant to strike. Once more Tyson found himself facing simultaneous attacks from two fronts. But his previous tactic of dodging to the side would not suffice this time. The Dark Jedi Master moved too fast to evade.


    Tyson''s eyes darted between the two incoming threats, assessing angles and trajectories in the space of a heartbeat. He did not fall back in the face of the dual threat. Instead, he changed targets and moved toward the Dark Jedi Master as fast as he could. The Master, who was already dashing with Force-enhanced speed, did not expect his prey to charge directly at him. Though he adapted quickly, Tyson''s bold move threw off the Master''s rhythm. He raised his lightsaber high, ready to cut Tyson down. But Tyson fired a blaster bolt low, aiming for the Master''s legs. His speed put him in a precarious position; his blade poised to strike from above while the bolt sailed toward his lower body.


    The Master kept his lightsaber aimed to kill. He shifted his hips to dodge the bolt, but the sudden movement left him off-balance. Tyson swung his lightsaber upward, but the Master smiled.


    Tyson''s blade was too low to block the killing stroke from the Master''s saber.


    Or so he thought.


    The Dark Jedi Master''s blood-red blade sliced downward, poised to cleave Tyson''s skull in two. But at the last possible moment, Tyson''s personal shield hummed to life. An invisible barrier of energy flared around him, and the Master''s lightsaber skittered harmlessly off the shield. The shield deflected the blow of the Dark Jedi who''d previously been in front as well.


    Tyson''s crimson blade continued sweeping upward in a tight arc, passing under the Master''s descending strike. The Dark Jedi was too slow to react. Tyson''s saber sheared through flesh and bone, severing the Master''s hand at the wrist. The limb and still-ignited lightsaber tumbled to the ground amidst the Master''s agonized scream.


    Tyson allowed himself a grim smile of satisfaction that faded as he noticed the notification in his HUD. His shield had been overloaded, it wouldn''t reactivate until after this round of combat.


    Master With Your Hands allowed Tyson to stow his lightsaber faster than anyone could track. In the blink of an eye, Tyson had both blaster pistols drawn again. He unleashed a relentless barrage upon the Dark Jedi, driving them backward step by step. His sole intent was to carve out space between himself and his foes. With the same blinding speed, Tyson holstered one pistol. His boot crushed the severed hand of the Dark Jedi Master, releasing the still-ignited lightsaber trapped within its death grip. Tyson snatched up the crimson blade even as he blindly fired off three rapid shots from his remaining blaster. The bolts pierced the Dark Jedi Master''s chest, ending the man''s life.


    Tyson stowed the blaster and claimed the other red lightsaber. Now wielding a blade in each hand, he turned to face the two remaining Dark Jedi. The glow of the paired weapons cast bloody highlights across Tyson''s armor, mirroring the predatory grin that split his face.


    Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.


    The Dark Jedi''s eyes narrowed as he sensed the flickering of Tyson''s personal shield. "His shield generator is overloaded," he hissed to his comrade. "He''s vulnerable." The Force swirling around the Dark Jedi, his anger and hatred fueling his connection to the dark side.


    The second Dark Jedi hesitated, his gaze flickering between Tyson and his fallen comrades. With a resigned sigh, he disengaged his lightsaber, the brilliant red blade extinguishing with a soft hiss. "I yield," he declared, taking a cautious step backward.


    Tyson nodded curtly at the surrendering Dark Jedi, his focus shifting to the remaining opponent. The Dark Jedi''s face twisted into a snarl of rage, his lightsaber held in a defensive stance as he circled warily.


    "You think you''ve won?" the Dark Jedi spat. "You''re nothing but a pretender, a pathetic insect playing at being a true Sith."


    Tyson remained silent, his eyes tracking the Dark Jedi''s movements as he waited for an opening. The Dark Jedi''s anger was palpable, a seething torrent of hatred that threatened to consume him.


    "You wield our weapons, but you know nothing of the true power of the dark side," the Dark Jedi taunted. "You''re a fool, and your arrogance will be your undoing."


    The Dark Jedi let loose a feral roar, his rage unfurling as he unleashed a flurry of vicious strikes. His crimson lightsaber became a blur of lethal energy as he pressed his assault against Tyson. The confined corridor echoed with the fevered clashing of plasma blades.


    Tyson met each blow with a calm parry, his twin blades moving in a graceful, fluid dance to deflect each wild attack. While the Dark Jedi''s strikes were fueled by uncontrolled fury, Tyson remained composed, his focus absolute as he turned aside strike after strike with effortless precision.


    Sensing an opening in the Dark Jedi''s chaotic barrage, Tyson launched a blistering counterattack. His paired lightsabers swept out in a high arching flourish, then snapped low in a viper-quick reverse. The Dark Jedi scrambled backward, desperate to evade the deadly blades. With a well-timed sweep, Tyson locked blades with the Dark Jedi, then whipped his second blade around the Dark Jedi''s faltering guard.


    The Dark Jedi jerked his arm back just in time to avoid dismemberment, but Tyson''s angled lightsaber forced him to release his grip on his own weapon. As the plasma blade tumbled downward, the Dark Jedi spun and snatched for it in desperation. But Tyson was faster, lashing out with a powerful front kick that sent the Dark Jedi sprawling back in a tangle of robes.


    The Dark Jedi''s lightsaber clattered across the durasteel floor, the sound echoing through the corridor like a tolling bell. Disarmed and at Tyson''s mercy, the Dark Jedi stared up in shocked defeat, eyes wide with fear at this unexpected humiliation.


    The crimson glow of Tyson''s twin lightsabers cast foreboding shadows across his armored form as he advanced on the cowering Dark Jedi. The Dark Jedi raised his hands in a pathetic gesture of surrender, his entire body trembling with fear.


    "Please," he pleaded, his voice breaking as he stared up at the impassive mask of Tyson''s helmet. "Show mercy."


    Silence fell over the durasteel corridor, interrupted only by the low hum of the lightsabers and the Dark Jedi''s ragged, panicked breathing. Tyson considered the man''s desperate plea, giving no indication of his thoughts behind the expressionless facade of his helmet.


    After a long moment, Tyson finally responded, his voice dripping with contempt. "Mercy? Is that the way of the Sith?"


    With those biting words, Tyson disengaged one of his crimson blades and returned it to the sheath across his back. He bent down and retrieved the Dark Jedi''s fallen lightsaber, fastening it to his belt. Then, turning his back on the whimpering man, Tyson strode back toward Darth Malak, leaving the defeated Dark Jedi alive but humiliated.


    Darth Malak''s eyes narrowed as he regarded the defeated Dark Jedi. "Mercy?" The Sith Lord''s voice dripped with disdain. "For those who tried to kill you?"


    Tyson met Malak''s gaze without flinching, his expression unreadable behind the impassive mask of his helmet. "We''re at war," he stated, his tone matter-of-fact. "Sith or not, I''ll not waste resources that could be turned toward the war effort."


    A heavy silence fell over the corridor as Malak considered Tyson''s pragmatic response. Finally, after what seemed an eternity, Malak gave a slow, approving nod.


    "Well spoken," Malak rumbled. "You grasp the harsh realities of our struggle." His gaze shifted to the Dark Jedi who had surrendered, the man still cowering on the floor. "And what of this one?"


    Tyson followed Malak''s line of sight, his eyes falling upon the trembling form of the disarmed Dark Jedi.


    "You''re assigned to guard the prisoner," Tyson declared, his voice ringing with cold authority. "Consider it a reassignment more...suited to your capabilities. You were defeated by a mere trooper, so now you may do the duties of a mere trooper.


    The Dark Jedi flinched as if struck, his eyes going wide with shock and humiliation. To be relegated to such a menial duty was the ultimate disgrace for a Sith. His face contorted with anger and he opened his mouth as if to protest, but a warning look silenced him.


    Grudgingly, the Dark Jedi rose unsteadily to his feet, shooting a venomous glare at Tyson before stalking off to carry out his demeaning new assignment. The other Dark Jedi followed in his wake. The corridor fell silent in their departure.


    Malak watched the Dark Jedi depart. "You wield the lightsaber with surprising skill for one untrained in its ways," he mused, turning his attention back to Tyson. "And you grasp the principles of keeping your lessers...humble."


    The Sith Lord began a slow, appraising circle around Tyson, studying him from all angles. "You could prove a valuable asset to our cause," Malak continued. "If you''re willing to commit yourself fully to the path of the dark side."


    Tyson remained motionless, his lightsabers held at the ready as he tracked Malak''s movements with wary eyes. The Dark Lord''s words carried the unmistakable weight of an offer.


    "The choice is yours," Malak declared, coming to a stop before Tyson once more. His eyes bored into the impassive facade of Tyson''s helmet as if seeking to pierce the veil and gaze into the man''s very soul. "Swear yourself to my teachings, and you will taste true mastery over the Force. Refuse..." He allowed the unspoken threat to hang in the air between them.


    The corridor fell silent as Tyson considered Malak''s ultimatum. Swear allegiance to the Sith Lord, or face the consequences of defiance. Tyson''s eyes narrowed behind his helmet as he mulled over the choice before him.


    Then his HUD flickered with a notification. His energy shield had recharged.


    This was the opportunity he''d been waiting for. Malak stood before him, isolated, with no other Sith reinforcements nearby. If he struck now, while the Dark Lord was unaware and overconfident, he might be able to defeat this powerful enemy. He could attack in the blink of an eye, catch Malak off guard with a sudden, vicious assault. The Dark Lord may be strong with the Force, but even he couldn''t deflect what he couldn''t anticipate.


    But then a fleeting thought gave Tyson pause. Malak was a Sith Lord. Could Tyson face him in single combat with his small understanding of the Force? Was that a risk worth taking or should he free Vicky first and face him and wait for better odds?


    As if sensing Tyson''s internal conflict, Malak arched an inquisitive brow ridge. "Well?" the Dark Lord prompted. "What is your decision? Do not keep me waiting."


    Tyson''s eyes flicked back to his HUD, watching as the energy shield indicator pulsed a reassuring green. Tyson could strike at any moment, but should he?


    If it came to a duel, he wasn''t sure if his fledgling grasp of the Force would be enough to best a Sith Lord like Malak. But more pressingly than defeating Malak was preventing the bombing of Taris. If Malak believed Bastila was his captive and that Tyson would become his new apprentice, the Dark Lord would have no reason to rain destruction on the planet below. Securing both a powerful new acolyte and the Jedi prize he sought, there was no reason for the genocide.


    Vicky''s message flashed across Tyson''s HUD.


    Oh. Looks like we''re going to be turning to the Dark Side. Did you like my goth look that much?


    Tyson smiled inwardly. If playing the part of Malak''s apprentice meant protecting the people of Taris, he would do what he must. He might even gain valuable insights into the Force and the inner workings of the Sith. While Tyson''s Perks granted him access to the force, he was still untrained and had room to grow.


    Finally, after what seemed an eternity, Tyson straightened his shoulders and met Malak''s penetrating gaze head-on. "I will follow your teachings, Lord Malak," he declared, "Show me the path to true mastery."


    A slow, predatory smile spread across Malak''s disfigured features. "A wise choice," he purred in a tone that bordered on condescending. "Though you will find the road ahead...arduous. The dark side is a harsh mistress that demands unwavering commitment."


    The Dark Lord gestured for Tyson to follow him.


    "Come," he commanded, turning on his heel. "We will begin your instruction immediately."


    With a swirl of his cloak, Malak strode off down the dimly lit corridor. Tyson hesitated for a heartbeat, his hand drifting his blaster pistol. Malak had his back turned, exposed. But after a moment''s pause, he followed after the Sith Lord, the opportunity to strike left behind.


    For now.


    Tyson fell into step behind Malak. He could sense the Dark Lord''s eagerness to begin shaping and molding this new prospective student.


    Malak''s imposing figure strode into the command center. His presence commanded the immediate attention of all the officers present, conversations dying away as they turned to face the Dark Lord. Behind Malak, Tyson followed silently, still clad in the nondescript armor of a Sith trooper.


    Admiral Karath stood at rigid attention as Malak approached, his posture betraying none of the apprehension he felt in the Sith Lord''s presence.


    "Admiral," Malak''s voice rasped from beneath the menacing metal jaw grafted to his face, the prosthetic giving his speech a chilling metallic edge. "This is my new apprentice."


    Karath''s gaze shifted to study Tyson. His surprise at Malak''s revelation was quickly masked. "What was your trooper designation?" he inquired, eyes narrowing.


    "TY50N." Tyson answered steadily, holding the Admiral''s scrutinizing look. "Sorry, sir. Didn''t know I could be a Jedi."


    Karath''s brow furrowed slightly. "That''s a strange designation," he remarked thoughtfully, examining Tyson more closely. "It was too good to be true, soldier."


    Malak''s voice was heavy with gravity as he proclaimed, "Your designation is not a suitable name for a Sith acolyte. We shall call you Darth Typhon." The Dark Lord proclaimed.


    Tyson nodded, accepting his new title with a solemn incline of his head.


    Malak turned to Karath, his voice taking on a tone of approval. "Typhon seems to have a head on his shoulders when it comes to understanding a leader''s burden in war," he said, his words measured and deliberate. "Begin teaching him he''d need to know about our war effort."


    Karath bowed his head, acknowledging the order with a crisp "Yes, Lord Malak." He turned to Tyson with a serious expression and beckoned the newly christened Darth Typhon to follow him.


    As they moved to a nearby console, Karath began to speak, his voice taking on a lecturing tone as he delved into the intricacies of fleet movements and supply lines. Tyson listened intently, absorbing the information with a keen mind and a determined focus.


    Karath brought up holographic displays of star systems and trade routes. "The key to successful space combat lies in understanding the flow of resources," he explained, gesturing to the glowing maps before him. "By disrupting an enemy''s supply lines, you can cripple their ability to wage war."


    Tyson followed the paths of the trade routes and hyperspace lanes as they wound their way through the galaxy. He could see the strategic value in Karath''s words, the importance of cutting off an opponent''s lifeline before engaging them in battle.


    The hours passed with Karath''s expertise guiding Tyson through the complexities of space warfare. By the time the lesson drew to a close, Tyson was brimming with new ideas and tactics.


    Malak returned, his presence commanding Tyson and Karath''s attention as he approached. "You have done well, Admiral," Malak rumbled, his voice a low growl of approval. Karath bowed his head in humble acceptance, murmuring "Thank you, Lord Malak."


    Turning to Tyson, Karath''s eyes glimmered with a newfound respect. "You have much yet to learn, Darth Typhon," he said solemnly, his tone serious but not unkind. "But it seems you are learning quickly. With time, I believe you will become a formidable commander."


    Tyson met the Admiral''s gaze steadily. "Thank you, Admiral," he replied, his voice ringing with conviction. "I will become the weapon needed to crush my enemies."


    Satisfaction was evident in Malak''s tone. "See that you do, Typhon," he said, "The future of the Sith depends on the strength and cunning of its leaders."


    With those final portentous words, Malak turned and strode from the command center.


    After giving Karath a respectful final nod, Tyson turned and followed in Malak''s wake.


    ¡ª Star Jumper ¡ª


    The trio of Carth, Canderous, and Avner made their way down the corridor. Following Davik''s directions, to the slave quarters, they turned north when the hallway bent, coming to a stop outside a nondescript door. Carth activated the door control and it slid open with a faint hiss, revealing a modest chamber beyond. Inside, three female Twi''lek slaves turned to regard the new arrivals. Their lekku draped over bare shoulders and down shapely backs.


    Among the exotic Twi''leks stood a striking green-skinned woman. Her beauty surpassed even that of the lovely aliens.


    Her full hips swung enticingly as she approached the group. When she spoke, her voice was thick and sweet like warm honey.


    "Welcome to the slave quarters, master," she purred, batting long lashes over violet eyes. "Here we have succulent fruits and berries to tempt your palette, as well as luxurious baths to soothe your aches and pains."


    Canderous'' grin split his face as his gaze roamed appreciatively over the scantily clad slaves. "Heh, now this is my kind of place!" he declared.


    Avner studied the green-skinned woman thoughtfully. He sensed there was more to this slave than her obvious physical charms.


    One of the female Twi''leks approached Carth, her hips swaying seductively, while the other smiled and sauntered towards Canderous. "Whatever your desire, we are here to serve," the first Twi''lek said.


    "We exist only to serve," the other added, her fingers trailing lightly over Canderous'' arm.


    Avner, however, focused his attention on the green-skinned woman. As she approached, her movements were subtly seductive. She was a vision of exotic beauty. Her eyes locked onto Avner''s, drawing him in with their intensity.


    When she reached out, her fingers brushed lightly against Avner''s arm. He found himself leaning closer, drawn to her like a moth to a flame. She smiled then, her full, luscious lips parting to reveal perfect white teeth.


    "I need some information," Avner said.


    The slave whispered conspiratorially, "But...what could I possibly tell you? It is forbidden for slaves to leave this room on pain of torture and death."


    Avner smiled reassuringly. "Tell me what you can and I''ll make sure to tell Davik how pleased I was with your performance."


    "Praise from the guests is valuable here. Davik rewards the slaves who perform their duties well. I will tell you what I know."


    "You know," she whispered, her breath warm against Avner''s ear, "I could make your stay here very... enjoyable."


    The scent of her perfume filled Avner''s nostrils. It was intoxicating, and for a moment, he forgot all about the mission.


    He shook his head, forcing his mind to return to the task at hand despite the slave woman''s sensual allure. "Tell me what you know," he said, his voice rough with barely restrained desire.


    The woman pouted, causing her full lower lip to jut out. The sight was juvenile but in her, undeniably sexy. "Very well," she sighed, trailing delicate fingers down his chest. "Davik rarely allows us slaves to leave these quarters. We only know what we overhear from his guests. Lately, they have all been gossiping about poor Hudrow."


    She leaned in closer, her warm breath tickling Avner''s ear as she continued. "He was caught trying to steal spice from the lab. Normally, Davik lets Hudrow get away with such things since he''s the personal pilot for Davik''s ship, the Ebon Hawk. But with the Sith grounding all vessels planetwide, Hudrow''s special privileges have dried up."


    Avner suppressed a shudder as her soft lips grazed the edge of his ear. "I believe you can reach the torture chambers by passing through the hall behind the west door of Davik''s throne room," she whispered throatily. "Just continue west from the slave quarters, and you''ll come upon the throne room. But Davik will certainly have guards patrolling. If they catch you outside the guest quarters, they''ll gun you down on the spot."


    Avner nodded, trying in vain to focus on her vital intelligence rather than the intoxicating press of her body against his. "Thank you for the information," he managed through gritted teeth, his voice taut with restrained passion.


    Avner''s pulse quickened as the green-skinned woman smiled alluringly, her eyes glinting with unspoken promises. Her fingers toyed with his collar, sending electricity through him.


    "If you''re leaving this planet, I''d very much like to come with you," she purred, her body pressing closer. "I''d be so appreciative. And I think you''ll enjoy how I show my appreciation."


    Avner glanced over at Carth and Canderous. Silent understanding passed between them, and they nodded. It was clear they would not leave the planet without this mysterious beauty.


    Avner turned back to the woman, desire simmering within him. "What''s your name?" he asked, his voice low and husky.


    "D''Lavina," she replied.


    Avner nodded slowly, transfixed. They had obtained the information they sought, but now they had another reason to succeed in their mission.


    As they turned to leave the slave quarters, D''Lavina''s full lips curved into a seductive smile. It was a tantalizing promise of pleasures to come. Excitement coursed through Avner''s veins. He knew they would prevail, and looked forward to how D''Lavina would show her appreciation.

 Season 1: Episode 8.3 - Betrayer

    Episode 8.3 - Betrayer


    Stardate: 41173.0


    Earth Standard Date: March 04, 2364.


    Galactic Date: 23rd Day of the Second Month, 3956 BBY


    Location: Barracks of the Leviathan, In Orbit of Taris


    The hard bunk of the Sith barracks dug into his back, the thin mattress provided little comfort or padding against the unforgiving metal slab. As Tyson''s eyes fluttered open and consciousness returned, he sighed, wondering how his new status as Darth Malak''s latest acolyte hadn''t earned him private quarters. He swung his legs over the side of the bunk and stood, stretching to work the kinks out of his muscles. He stepped from the barracks out into the hall, the door hissing closed behind him. Immediately he reached for his Access Key, retreating into his Personal Reality.


    His first stop was the Housing Complex where he grabbed a quick meal. As soon as the last bite was swallowed, he was up and moving again. As he entered the Warehouse, his gaze fell upon the simple table just inside the door. The massive space could have housed a football field, yet Tyson had filled it with only a handful of trinkets so far. Resting atop the table were Vicky''s items. The Jumper''s Master Key, Armored Robes, and Scaling Cloak. They had respawned here after being absorbed by her nanobots.


    Tyson reached out, hesitating for a moment before his fingertips made contact with the Jumper''s Master Key.


    The Gray Goo Suit responded instantly to his proximity to the items and intent. Tendrils of nanomachines emerged from his hands, slithering over the Key like quicksilver. The metal seemed to melt away, absorbed into the suit and assimilated by the advanced technology that encased Tyson''s body.


    Next, he turned his attention to the Armored Robes. The heavy fabric was rich with cortosis plating, designed to protect the wearer from energy weapons. As the nanites of the Gray Goo Suit made contact, they began meticulously deconstructing the robes. Tyson could feel the suit adapting and evolving as it incorporated this new ability into its matrix. With the addition of cortosis, the suit now contained two of the best materials for defending against lightsabers and blasters; beskar and cortosis.


    Finally, he picked up the shimmering orb of the Scaling Cloak. It was no bigger than a baseball, belying the incredible power it contained. The suit''s nanites danced across its surface, mapping its contours and analyzing its exotic properties. Then the cloak dissolved into his suit, assimilated by the advanced technology that protected Tyson from harm.


    As the last traces of the items disappeared into the Gray Goo Suit, Tyson could sense the changes taking place. The suit seamlessly integrated the new items'' properties, adapting them to its systems.


    Tyson turned with a satisfied nod, his mind already racing ahead to the Medical Bay. As the doors hissed open, he stepped inside. The spacious bay resembled the Enterprise''s sickbay, but instead of a few biobeds, rows upon rows stood before him, each occupied by an unconscious Vulcan. The gentle beeps of the monitoring equipment were the only sounds breaking the heavy silence.


    Approaching the nearest biobed, Tyson scanned the readouts hovering over the Vulcan''s head. Their vitals indicated they would soon wake, nearly recovered from the Trellium-D poisoning.


    One more day of recovery and they would be healed.


    Tyson''s gaze swept over the room, taking in the sheer number. One hundred and forty-seven Vulcans in total. He had prepared his Personal Reality to accommodate them, but only time would tell if it was sufficient.


    As he contemplated his next steps, his eyes fell upon the array of medical tools lining each biobed; hyposprays, dermal regenerators, and other advanced devices. Reaching out, Tyson grabbed a hypospray loaded with Axonol, a fast-acting sedative, allowing his Gray Goo Suit to store it for easy access later.


    Tyson let his gaze sweep over the rows of biobeds one last time, taking in the sleeping forms of the Vulcans before him. Their chests rose and fell in the steady rhythm of deep sedation as they recovered.


    With his plans in mind, Tyson turned and strode back to the antechamber. He paused before the doorway, activating his Scaling Cloak, feeling the tingle spread across his skin as the cloak interfaced with his Energy Shield to render him invisible. No indication of his presence would escape the Energy Shield now.


    Tyson opened the doorway and stepped through, back out into the corridor beyond. He moved swiftly through the ship, headed for the Detention Area where Vicky was being held prisoner. It was time to free her and set their plans into motion.


    As he approached the entrance to the Detention Area, Tyson''s eyes narrowed, scrutinizing the Dark Jedi who stood guard outside the door. It was the same Jedi whose lightsaber Tyson had claimed in their previous confrontation. Previously assigning this man to guard duty wasn''t a coincidence. Tyson had always intended to free Vicky, and if something went wrong, it ensured this Dark Jedi would be held accountable.


    The Dark Jedi gave no indication he noticed Tyson''s stealthy approach, his gaze fixed straight ahead. Tyson''s Scaling Cloak concealed his presence entirely, allowing him to slip past the oblivious guard undetected. Now standing behind the unaware Dark Jedi, Tyson retrieved a fast-acting sedative hyperspray and injected it into the back of the man''s neck. The Jedi tried to stand and confront his unseen attacker, receiving a warning from the Force at the last moment. But the sedative took effect quickly. Before fully reaching his feet, he slumped back into the chair. Tyson guided his descent, ensuring the Jedi landed back in his seat. With the guard incapacitated, Tyson entered the Detention Area.


    In the center of the room stood a single energy field, and within that shimmering containment field was Vicky, still disguised as Bastila Shan.


    He moved across the Detention Area, his gaze fixed intently on the security console controlling the containment field. Though he lacked the passcard that would grant access, Tyson possessed something far more powerful; the Jumper''s Master Key, now integrated into the nanite-laced fibers of his Gray Goo Suit. As he raised his hand toward the console, the suit pulsed with vibrant energy. Tiny nanites flowed out, seamlessly interfacing with the console''s circuitry. Mere moments later, the system granted Tyson full access. With a few quick inputs, he disabled the energy field.


    Freed at last, Vicky stepped forward, her Bastila Shan disguise melting away to reveal her true form. She threw her arms around him, her soft lips finding him in a passionate kiss. For a blissful moment, the world fell away.


    But then Vicky pulled back, her eyes alight with playful annoyance. "What took you so long?" she demanded, hands on her hips in mock indignation. "Do you have any idea how dull it is being stuck in a cell? So boring!"


    Tyson couldn''t help but chuckle, even as he drew her close once more. "I''m sorry," he said, his voice gentle and sincere. "I got a bit sidetracked with becoming Darth Malak''s newest acolyte and all that," he replied lightly, a teasing lilt to his voice. Though his tone remained breezy, his eyes were serious, silently pleading for understanding. "It got me close enough to learn about the Sith fleet''s movements, and rescue you without having to fight five Dark Jedi at once, didn''t it?"


    Vicky pressed her lips together, a reluctant smile tugging at the corners despite her efforts to look stern. She shook her head, sending a few strands of hair tumbling over her forehead. "I suppose it did," she admitted grudgingly.


    Tyson held his hands up in a placating gesture. "For now, we need to focus on getting you to the bridge so you can infiltrate the Leviathan''s computer."


    "Let''s get to it then," Vicky agreed briskly, her features blurring as she shifted her form once more. Metallic armor plates rippled over her slender frame, followed by the distinctive black underweave of a Sith trooper''s uniform.


    Together they slipped out of the detention block, leaving the unconscious Dark Jedi slumped limply in his chair.


    Tyson and Vicky stepped onto the bridge of the Leviathan. The large command center bustled with activity as officers and technicians monitored the many systems and sensors that kept the massive ship running. At the head stood Admiral Karath, his hands clasped at the small of his back as he surveyed the operations before him.


    With measured strides, Tyson approached the admiral. He held himself tall, adopting the confident bearing expected of a Sith Lord. "Admiral Karath," he greeted in a low, steady tone. "I''ve come to continue our fleet strategy lessons."


    Karath turned to face Tyson fully. "Ah, Darth Typhon," he said, "I was beginning to think you had forgotten our arrangement."


    Tyson shook his head once. "Not at all. I''ve been looking forward to expanding on our previous discussions."


    Vicky slipped away from Tyson and Karath as the pair began their lesson, her eyes scanning the Leviathan''s bridge for an empty station. She spotted one near the back of the room and made her way there moving fast, but casually, not wanting to draw attention. Settling into the vacated seat, her fingers flew across the console controls. Within moments, she had bypassed the ship''s security protocols and begun infiltrating its main computer.


    Reaching out, nanomachines flowed and shifted around Vicky''s slender fingers materializing the Jumper''s Master Key. Vicky slid the key into an input port on the console before her.


    Immediately, she could sense the Leviathan''s digital defenses falling away, its systems laid bare to her questing mind. Like a living thing, Vicky delved deeper into the ship''s computer core, probing its secrets. With but a thought, she could now disable weapons, open airlocks, and create any number of disasters throughout the vessel. Such crude measures held no appeal. Her goals were far more subtle.


    Deftly navigating the Leviathan''s digital architecture, Vicky began constructing a complex virtual intelligence within the computer''s memory banks. Piece by piece, line of code by meticulous line, she built a digital version of herself, an almost identical copy of her intricate programming and personality. The only difference between Vicky and this virtual persona was that it lacked Vicky''s ability to create another version of itself.


    At last, the final framework clicked into place. With a mere thought, Vicky launched the newly minted intelligence into the Leviathan''s systems, watching with satisfaction as it spread through the digital networks with viral tenacity. In mere moments, the entire massive ship was infected by her creation, its computer systems now slaved to Vicky''s formidable will. She could feel the Leviathan responding, its defenses breached, its innermost secrets hers to uncover and command. This ship and all within now belonged to her.


    Vicky''s lips curled into a satisfied smile as she rose from the console, feeling the duplicate VI she had created take control of the Leviathan''s vast computer systems. Though the bridge still buzzed with activity around her, the crew remained oblivious to the invisible intruder now slithering through their networks. With a final, triumphant glance at the console, Vicky turned and strode towards the back of the bridge.


    The elevator doors sealed shut behind her. It descended swiftly, carrying her down into the bowels of the ship. Stepping out into the hallway, Vicky made her way back to the small cell where she had been held captive just hours before. But now the roles had reversed; she was the puppet master, the one pulling the strings from the shadows. When approaching the Detention area, she saw the Dark Jedi assigned to guard her lying slumped unconscious in his chair. Vicky''s smile widened as she recalled the look of bewilderment on his face when Tyson had pressed a hypospray to his neck before he could react. The man had gone unconscious before he understood what was happening.


    But even as she savored the memory of her captor''s downfall, Vicky knew she could not linger. Maintaining her charade remained imperative until the moment was right to reveal herself. With a final glance at the incapacitated Dark Jedi, she stepped back through the now-inactive energy field and into the small cell. The Virtual Intelligence now in charge of the ship read her intentions, and the energy field shimmered back to life behind her. Vicky reassumed the appearance of Bastila, her skin rippling with the change.


    She waited, the minutes dragging by. Her time would come, but for now, she must continue playing the part of the helpless captive. The Leviathan was hers, but the game was not over yet.


    The sudden sound of movement caught Vicky''s attention, and her eyes snapped to the Dark Jedi as he began to stir from his sedated sleep. She watched intently as he blinked groggily, raising a hand to rub at the back of his neck where the hypospray had struck. For a moment, he looked around the Detention Area in confusion, as if struggling to remember where he was.


    But then his gaze settled on Bastila, still standing within the crackling energy field, and relief washed over his face. He struggled to his feet, movements sluggish and uncoordinated as he shook off the sedative''s lingering effects.


    The Dark Jedi settled back into his chair while Vicky stood silently within the energy field, playing her part.


    She had done it. She had infiltrated the Leviathan, taking control of the ship''s systems from within. Their plan had succeeded without a hitch. And now, with her duplicate VI in place, all that remained was to wait, to bide her time until the right moment revealed itself.


    ¡ª Star Jumper ¡ª


    Avner, Carth, and Canderous fought their way through the estate, their blasters firing, cutting down the guards and bounty hunters who stood in their way. The air was thick with the scent of ozone and the cries of the dying, but the trio pressed on. At last, they reached Davik''s "Guest Room," a euphemism for the torture chamber that lay beyond the heavy metal door. With a final burst of blaster fire, they dispatched the two torture droids inside.


    There, in the center of the room, was Hudrow, the man D''Lavina had told them about. He was suspended in a torture cage, his body wracked with pain and his eyes wild with fear. Carth moved quickly to the console, his fingers flying over the controls as he worked to disable the cage.


    With a hiss of hydraulics, the cage opened, and Hudrow tumbled to the ground, his legs giving way beneath him. He looked up at his rescuers, his eyes wide with gratitude.


    "Thank you!" he gasped, his voice ragged with pain. "You have no idea what it was like in that torture cage. I don''t know how much more I could take before going mad."


    Canderous stepped forward, his eyes narrowing as he regarded Hudrow with a calculating gaze. "So now that you''re free, there''s the matter of a reward..."


    Hudrow shook his head, his expression apologetic. "I don''t have anything to give you as a reward for freeing me. Nothing tangible, anyway. But I''ve got information that could be worth a fortune."


    Canderous folded his arms across his chest, his voice gruff. "Out with it, then."


    Hudrow took a deep breath, his eyes darting nervously around the room. "I used to be the pilot of the Ebon Hawk. I know the codes to disable the security system protecting it. I''ll load them into your datapad now. You can use those codes to steal the Ebon Hawk from the hangar. Sell it to the highest bidder, or ransom it back to Davik. Whatever you do, you''ll make thousands!"


    He paused, his expression growing serious. "It won''t be long until Davik figures out I''m free. I have to get out of this base before that happens."


    Canderous nodded, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction. "We''ve got what we came for. We should get going."


    This narrative has been purloined without the author''s approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.


    The group made their way back to the throne room, Hudrow running off in the opposite direction, likely to leave the estate before Davik could catch him.


    At the terminal in the throne room, Carth entered the security codes. "That should do it," he said, his voice tight with tension. "The security around the Ebon Hawk is disabled."


    Avner nodded, his eyes scanning the room for any signs of trouble. "Let''s get back to D''Lavina and get out of here."


    The group made their way back to the slave quarters, where D''Lavina was waiting for them, her eyes wide with anticipation. When she saw them, she let out a cry of joy and ran to them, her arms outstretched.


    "You did it!" she exclaimed, her voice bright with excitement. "You got the codes!"


    Avner nodded. "We''re ready to go. Are you coming with us?"


    D''Lavina nodded eagerly, her eyes shining with gratitude. "Of course! I can''t thank you enough for getting me out of here. All of you."


    She turned to each of the men in turn, her gaze lingering on each of them for a moment before moving on to the next. "You''re all heroes in my book."


    With D''Lavina in tow, the group made their way to the hangar, their steps quickening as they drew closer to their goal. But when they entered the vast, echoing space, they found that they were not alone.


    Davik Kang stood before them, his arms folded across his chest and a scowl on his face. Beside him stood Calo Nord, his blaster held loosely at his side and a predatory gleam in his eye.


    "So, you figured you''d just steal my ship for your getaway and leave me high and dry?" Davik sneered, his voice dripping with contempt. "Sorry, but that ain''t going to happen!"


    Calo Nord stepped forward, his blaster coming up to point directly at Avner''s chest. "I''ll take care of them, Davik. I''ve been looking forward to this for a long time!"


    Davik''s expression was tight with anger. "Make it quick, Calo."


    But before Calo could pull the trigger, D''Lavina stepped forward, her hands held out in a placating gesture. "Wait!" she cried, her voice ringing out across the hangar. "Please, don''t fight. We can all leave Taris together."


    Davik and Calo exchanged a skeptical glance, but D''Lavina pressed on, her voice growing more urgent with each word. "Think about it. With Davik''s resources and your skills, Calo, plus the rest of this group, we''d all be well-protected and well-equipped to handle whatever the Sith or the galaxy throws at us."


    She took a step closer to Davik, her eyes locked on his. "We could be unstoppable together. A force to be reckoned with. And with the Ebon Hawk, we could go anywhere we wanted, do anything we desired."


    Davik''s expression softened slightly, his eyes flickering with uncertainty. "I don''t know," he said, his voice hesitant.


    D''Lavina smiled, her eyes sparkling with promise. "You can trust me, Davik. I want what''s best for all of us. And right now, that means getting off this planet before the Sith blow it to pieces."


    She turned to Calo, her gaze intense. "And you, Calo. You''re a bounty hunter, right? Think of the jobs you could pull off with this group backing you. The credits you could make."


    Calo''s eyes narrowed, his jaw clenching as he considered her words. But even as he hesitated, D''Lavina''s pheromones were already working their magic, seeping into the minds of the men around her and bending them to her will.


    One by one, they began to nod, their expressions growing distant and unfocused as they fell under her spell. Avner felt a wave of warmth wash over him, a sense of peace and contentment that he had never known before. Beside him, Carth and Canderous were swaying slightly, their eyes glazed and their mouths hanging open.


    Even Davik and Calo were not immune to D''Lavina''s charms. Their weapons lowered slowly, their faces softening as they gazed at her with rapt attention.


    "You''re right," Davik said at last, his voice slow and dreamy. "We should all leave together. It''s the smart thing to do."


    Calo nodded, his expression blank and his eyes unfocused. "Yeah. Let''s get out of here."


    With a final, dazzling smile, D''Lavina led the way onto the Ebon Hawk, the men following behind her like obedient puppies. As they settled into their seats, she turned to Avner, her eyes sparkling with curiosity.


    "Did you have other companions?" she asked.


    Avner''s mind was still hazy from her pheromones. "Yeah. A pair of Jedi, a Wookiee, a kid, and another Republic soldier. But they''re not important."


    D''Lavina frowned, her brow furrowing in concern. "Jedi? I''ve heard stories about them. We shouldn''t leave them behind. You want as many valuable people to come with you as you can gather."


    Canderous agreed with a serious expression. "She''s right. Let''s get this ship fired up. We''ll pick up the rest of your friends and then we have to get off this planet!"


    Avner hesitated for a moment, his mind struggling to break free of D''Lavina''s influence. But in the end, he spoke in a distant voice.


    "Yeah. Let''s go get them."


    As the Ebon Hawk lifted off from the hangar floor, its engines roaring to life, Avner couldn''t shake the feeling that he was making a terrible mistake. But with D''Lavina by his side, her pheromones clouding his mind and her beauty dazzling his senses, he found that he didn''t care.


    ¡ª Star Jumper ¡ª


    Tyson listened as Admiral Karath lectured on the intricacies of laying traps within the twisting hyperspace lanes. The Admiral''s gravelly voice droned on as he detailed the methods for disabling ships'' hyperdrives and intercepting them.


    A young Sith trooper manning the sensor station suddenly spoke up, breaking the monotony of Karath''s endless speech. "Sir, there''s a Dynamic-class freighter that just left the planet. They transmitted the proper codes, but this ship hasn''t been one of the regular traveling craft here. I thought it prudent to bring it to your attention."


    Before Karath could respond, Tyson snapped, "Trooper, the Admiral was imparting critical instruction to the apprentice of Darth Malak. Did you think it wise to interrupt that discussion to inform him of a freighter bearing proper clearance? Bastila Shan already languishes in our holding cells. If you disrupt us again with such inane prattle, I''ll make sure you join her."


    The trooper shrank back in his seat and did not speak again.


    Tyson''s attention returned to the Admiral, prompting him to continue his lecture, but a notification blinking within his helmet display soon distracted him. The Dynamic-class freighter had just entered hyperspace, its ion engines flaring as it leaped into the swirling nether. Tyson smiled behind his mask.


    Episode: Star Wars Knights of the Old Republic - Escape Taris


    +200 RP


    Reality Points: 200


    Tyson''s attention was momentarily drawn away from the lesson. The notification indicated that Bastila and Avner''s group had finally escaped Taris. Furrowing his brow, Tyson wondered why he had received such a large reward of Reality Points for this event. From previous experience, Q seemed to grant bonus points mainly for his entertainment value. Yet, Tyson had hardly participated in their escape at all. When he defeated Darth Bandon on the Endar Spire, he''d only been awarded 100 points for that episode. And likewise when he saved the Vulcans aboard the Seleya, that too had merited just 100 points. What could he possibly have done this time to earn 200 Reality Points? All he did was ensure it didn''t reach the Admiral''s attention. The incongruity nagged at him, even as he wanted to ignore it and graciously accept the bonus points.


    Darth Malak''s heavy footsteps echoed through the bridge as he strode in, his presence commanding the immediate attention of all present. None dared draw the wrath of the dark lord. Malak''s metallic jaw glinted cruelly in the dim light, his power and ruthlessness radiating from him like a physical force. Those traits had propelled him to the top of the Sith hierarchy. His cold, calculating eyes swept the room before settling on Tyson, standing at rigid attention beside Admiral Karath.


    With an imperious gesture, Malak beckoned Tyson to his side. His voice emerged as a deep, mechanical rasp. "Darth Typhon. Your tutelage under Admiral Karath has ended. It is time for a different lesson."


    Tyson inclined his head in acknowledgment, keeping his expression carefully neutral as he fell into step beside his master. As they walked, Malak''s voice lowered to a menacing growl. "We''re going to the prisoner. You must learn the tactics behind interrogation."


    Tyson''s stomach churned at the implication behind the dark lord''s words. He understood well what Sith "interrogation" entailed; torture, brutality, and utter disregard for life. Yet even as revulsion threatened to show on his face, Tyson maintained an impassive mask. "Yes, Lord Malak," he replied, the bitter words scraping his throat.


    As Tyson fell into step beside the Sith Lord.


    The ship''s cold metal walls enclosed them. With each step, Tyson''s sense of dread swelled, until his stomach churned with apprehension. Steeling himself, Tyson followed Malak to the pulsing energy field of Bastila''s cell.


    Malak''s words dripped with contempt. "Ah, the mighty Jedi. So proud, so noble, so...pathetic." His malicious gaze turned to Tyson. "Darth Typhon, it is time for your lesson to begin. Show me what you have learned, my apprentice. Break this Jedi''s will, and extract the information we seek."


    The Dark Jedi guard standing at attention when Darth Malak entered now stepped into the interrogation chamber as Malak and Tyson crossed the threshold. Tyson''s heart pounded in his chest as he locked eyes with the prisoner. Bastila stared back, one eyebrow quirked in a challenge.


    At that moment, Tyson knew he had a choice to make. He could continue playing the part of the loyal apprentice and become the ruthless interrogator who would stop at nothing to please his master.


    Or he could rebel against his "Master" who sought to control him.


    Tyson reached behind his back and pulled out a lightsaber. The weapon that belonged to the Dark Jedi guarding the entrance. Igniting it with a snap-hiss, the crimson plasma blade flared to life. Tyson approached the pulsing energy field surrounding Bastila. When he stood just beyond arm''s reach of the trapped Jedi, the containment field suddenly winked out. Without hesitation, Tyson held out the lightsaber. Bastila accepted it, her fingers curling around the hilt.


    Malak shouted in surprise and outrage, "What are you doing?"


    Tyson replied evenly, "Aren''t Sith supposed to betray their masters and strike them down? I''m sorry, I''m pretty new at this. But I''m pretty sure this is how things are supposed to go."


    With a resonant boom, the doors into the detention block slammed shut, sealing Tyson and Bastila inside with Darth Malak and the Dark Jedi guard.


    Darth Malak''s rage was a palpable force, filling the air with a crackling energy that set Tyson''s teeth on edge. The dark lord''s eyes blazed with fury as he realized the depth of his apprentice''s betrayal, his metallic jaw clenching and unclenching in a rhythm of barely contained anger.


    "You fool," Malak spat, his voice a deep, mechanical growl. "Did you really think you could deceive me? That you could play the loyal apprentice while plotting against me all along?"


    Tyson said nothing, his helmet betrayed nothing. He stood his ground, his eyes locked on the dark lord''s in a silent challenge.


    Malak began to pace. "All Sith apprentices think at some point that they can defeat their master," he said, his voice dripping with contempt. "It''s a rite of passage, a test of their strength and cunning. But most have the sense to wait until they''ve learned everything they can from their master before making their move."


    He turned to face Tyson, his eyes narrowing to slits. "But you, Darth Typhon, were too dumb to do that. You thought you could outsmart me, that you could play both sides and come out on top. And now, you will pay the price."


    Tyson tensed, his hand instinctively reaching for his lightsaber. But before he could draw the weapon, Malak''s hand shot out, his fingers splayed in a gesture of pure, raw power.


    Suddenly, Bastila froze, her body going rigid as a shimmering field of energy surrounded her. Tyson''s eyes widened as he realized what had happened. Malak had used the Force to trap her in a stasis field, rendering her helpless and immobile.


    Malak''s laughter rang out, harsh and mocking. "You thought you had the upper hand, didn''t you?" he sneered, his eyes glinting with malice. "You thought that you could somehow gain the advantage by freeing the Jedi and turning against me. But you were wrong, Typhon. You were always at a disadvantage, always playing catch-up to a master who was always one step ahead."


    Malak''s laughter grew louder, echoing off the walls of the detention area. "You see, I knew from the moment you brought her on board that you had feelings for her. That you would do anything to protect her, even if it meant betraying your own master." He stepped closer to Tyson. "And now, I have the perfect leverage to ensure your cooperation. You will do as I say, Typhon. Or your precious Jedi will suffer the consequences."


    Tyson''s laughter rang out from beneath his Sith Trooper helmet, a sound of pure, unadulterated mirth that seemed to catch Malak off guard. With a fluid motion, Tyson raised his hand, already holding a blaster pistol that had materialized from seemingly nowhere.


    He fired off a shot at the Dark Jedi still standing near the doorway, the bolt of energy streaking through the air with deadly precision. The Dark Jedi, his reflexes honed by years of training and the power of the Force, moved to dodge the attack, his body a blur of motion as he sought to evade the incoming fire.


    But Tyson was faster, his Augment reflexes and focus allowed him to anticipate the Dark Jedi''s movements with uncanny accuracy. He led the man''s dash, his blaster firing again and again in a rapid succession of shots that filled the air with the acrid scent of ozone.


    The Dark Jedi lacked a lightsaber, his weapon still held in Bastila''s hand. And even with the power of the Force at his command, he was no match for Tyson''s skill.


    By the third shot, the Dark Jedi was dead, his body crumpling to the ground in a heap of smoking flesh and charred robes. Tyson lowered his blaster, his attention returning to Malak.


    "You think you played me, Malak?" Tyson asked, his voice a deep, growl that seemed to fill the room. "You think you had me figured out, that you could manipulate me like some kind of puppet on a string?"


    Tyson stowed his blaster behind his back, his movements slow and deliberate. "But you were wrong, Malak," he said, his voice low but carrying through the chamber. "This was what I wanted all along. I knew that by bringing Bastila on board, I could lure you into a false sense of security."


    He took a step forward, eyes locked on Malak''s masked face. "I''ll admit, I hadn''t thought to suppress my feelings toward her. But to think... you believed you could use her as leverage against me."


    Tyson''s laughter rang out once more, in triumph. "You underestimated me, Malak. You thought I was just another weak-willed apprentice, another pawn in your game of galactic domination." His voice dropped, becoming a menacing whisper that seemed to fill every corner of the room. "But I am so much more than that."


    He took another step toward the Sith Lord, closing the distance between them. His Sith helmet retracted smoothly into his Gray Goo Suit as it peeled back. The silver plates of his armor began to shift and morph, the metal seeming to melt away before being replaced by the distinctive beskar iron of Mandalorian make, with intricate etched inlays of cortosis. But unlike traditional Mandalorian armor, Tyson''s was sparse and minimalist, the dark iron plating covering only vital areas while leaving much of his muscular physique exposed. It was armor meant not just for protection, but utilizing the dodge boost from his Snakeskin Perk. Tyson''s eyes never left Malak''s masked face.


    Malak stared, unable to comprehend the betrayal unfolding before him.


    "I will defeat you here," Tyson continued, his voice rising. "And just because you insulted my intelligence, I''m going to pry every secret you possess from you until I have mastered every technique and every power that you hold." His voice continued to build, echoing with rage and iron determination. "And when I have taken everything from you. When I have stripped you of your knowledge and your power, only then will I grant you the mercy of death. Only then will I allow you to fade into the annals of history, a footnote in the story of my ascension to greatness."


    In a single smooth motion, Tyson reached behind his back, grabbing the hilts of his Lightsaber and Laser Sword. With a snap-hiss, the dual blades ignited; one glowing green, the other electric blue. The chamber was bathed in their radiance.


    With a snarl of impotent rage, Malak''s crimson lightsaber ignited with a hiss of energy.


    <hr>


    Tyson


    Origins: Human, Humanoid, Drop-In, Space Pirate, Bad Guy


    Race: Augment Human-Betazoid (Hybrid)


    Character Points: 1000, [250 KOTOR (Vicky)]


    Reality Points: 200


    Ship Points: 1400


    Credits: 116,450


    Status Effects: (none)


    Drawbacks:


    Gauntlet (Locked)


    Ensign Marty Stu


    A Simple Re''Q''uest


    Hybrid (Betazoid)


    Amok Time/Blood Fever


    Outlawed


    The Voyager Problem


    Perks:


    Cosmic Awareness


    Out of Nowhere


    Going Native


    Live and Let Live


    This is (Not?) Rocket Science


    Kinda Bland


    Determinator


    Painted On


    Snakeskin


    Adaptable


    Duelist


    Master with your Hands


    Best of the Best


    Everything Is A Weapon


    Augment


    Force Specialization: Intelligence


    Tactical Info


    Sever Force


    Items:


    Laser Blade


    Spacesuit


    Agony Booth


    Cloaking Minefield


    Lightsaber


    Gray Goo Suit


    Companions:


    (Vicky) V-KO IV Nursedroid: Artificial Intelligence Upgrade, Gray Goo Upgrade, Master With Your Hands, Light Weapon, Jumper''s Master Key, Scaling Cloak, Origin:Jedi, Force Specialization: Intelligence, Enhanced Mind, Lightsaber, Armored Robes, Battle Meditation


    Personal Reality:


    Access Key


    Security System


    High-Security Inter-Reality Connecting Door (Star Trek Enterprise)


    Medical Bay


    High-Security Inter-Reality Connecting Door (Star Wars Knights of the Old Republic)


    Key Link


    Housing Complex


    Basic Nutrition


    Choice Apartments


    Who''s Got the Powa


    Pipes Pipes Pipes


    Spaceships:


    Tramp Freighter (Destroyed - Respawn on 02/28/2365)


    Sith Interceptor

 Season 1: Episode 9.1 - Tyson vs. Darth Malak

    Episode 9.1 - Tyson vs. Darth Malak


    Stardate: 41173.2


    Earth Standard Date: March 04, 2364.


    Galactic Date: 23rd Day of the Second Month, 3956 BBY


    Location: Detention Area, Leviathan, Orbiting Taris


    Tyson and Darth Malak circled each other, their lightsabers casting an eerie glow across the detention area. Tyson kept his feet shoulder-width apart, his knees slightly bent, ready to spring into action. Malak''s stance was more aggressive, his body leaning forward, his metallic jaw clenched in a snarl of rage. He held his lightsaber in a two-handed grip, the blade angled towards the ground. Suddenly, Malak lunged forward, his lightsaber slashing through the air in a diagonal cut aimed at Tyson''s torso. Tyson''s blades moved to intercept, his lightsaber catching Malak''s attack and deflecting it to the side with a shower of sparks.


    Tyson counterattacked, his laser sword thrusting forward in a quick, stabbing motion towards Malak''s chest. The dark lord twisted to the side, his lightsaber coming up to parry the blow, the two blades clashing with a hiss of energy.


    They broke apart, circling each other once more, their eyes locked in a battle of wills. Tyson feinted to the left, his lightsaber slashing in a wide, sweeping arc towards Malak''s legs. The dark lord leaped over the attack, his blade coming down in a vicious overhead chop that Tyson barely managed to block with his laser sword.


    The two men traded blows back and forth, their blades moving in a dizzying blur of light and energy. Tyson''s feet constantly shifted as he sought to maintain his balance and keep Malak off-guard. He varied his attacks, mixing quick, darting thrusts with wide, sweeping slashes, his blades humming and crackling with each impact. Malak, on the other hand, fought with a brutal, relentless fury, his lightsaber hammering against Tyson''s defenses with Force-enhanced strength. His blade slashed down from above in a series of devastating overhead chops that forced Tyson to constantly backpedal and defend.


    With a savage blow, their blades locked together, the energy crackling and sputtering as they strained against each other. Tyson''s arms trembled with the effort of holding Malak back, his teeth gritted in a snarl of determination. Tyson was far stronger than any man had a right to be. Yet with the Force bending to Malak''s will, enhancing him, it drove him beyond even Tyson''s strength.


    For a moment, they stood frozen as they each sought to gain the upper hand. But then, with a final, shuddering clash, they broke apart, staggering back from each other.


    Malak''s metallic jaw clenched and unclenched as he regarded Tyson with respect. "You are strong," he grudgingly admitted, his voice a deep, mechanical growl. "But you are not yet a match for the true power of the dark side."


    Tyson only smiled, his confidence unshaken by Malak''s words. "This is still the warmup," he replied, his voice low and menacing. "We''ll see what happens when we get serious¡­ unless this is all you''ve got."


    And with that, they began to circle each other once more as they prepared to resume their deadly dance of lightsabers and wills.


    Tyson could feel Malak''s presence growing stronger, more focused as if he were drawing upon some deep, hidden reserve of strength. Suddenly, the Sith Lord''s movements became a blur, his lightsaber flashing through the air at an impossible speed. His attacks came from every angle in a dizzying barrage of slashes and thrusts.


    Tyson''s eyes widened in surprise, his mind racing to keep up with the sudden increase in Malak''s speed and ferocity. He could feel the dark lord channeling the Force into himself, his body moving with a supernatural agility that was almost terrifying to behold.


    But Tyson was not afraid.


    Instead, he felt a thrill of excitement coursing through his veins, his heart pounding with the rush of adrenaline and the thrill of the fight. This was a chance to test himself against a truly worthy opponent, to push his skills and his powers to their very limits. He brought his weapons up to meet Malak''s assault. He relied on the guidance of the Force, his enhanced reflexes, and the Snakeskin Perk allowing him to twist and dodge and weave around Malak''s attacks with a fluid, almost serpentine grace.


    Tyson''s feet danced across the floor, his body constantly in motion as he sought to stay one step ahead of Malak. He parried and blocked and deflected, his blades humming and crackling with each impact, the energy fields sparking and sputtering as they strained against each other.


    But even with all his skill and all his power, Tyson found himself slowly being driven back, his defenses tested to their very limits by the sheer speed and ferocity of Malak''s attacks. And yet, despite the mounting pressure, Tyson refused to give ground. He met each of Malak''s attacks with a counter of his own. He could feel the Force flowing through him, guiding his movements and sharpening his reflexes, allowing him to stay just a hairsbreadth ahead of Malak''s relentless assault.


    The detention area echoed with the clash of their blades. The air grew thick with the scent of ozone. But through it all, Tyson remained focused, his mind locked in a battle of wills with Malak, his determination unshakable. He knew that he was being pushed to his limits, that he was fighting a battle that few could even hope to survive. And yet, as he parried another of Malak''s blows, Tyson found himself grinning a fierce, feral smile that spoke of the pure, unadulterated joy of the fight.


    "Is that all you''ve got, Malak?" he taunted.


    Malak''s eyes flashed with rage, his metallic jaw clenching in a snarl of fury. "You will regret those words, Typhon," he spat, his voice dripping with venom. "I will make you suffer for your insolence."


    Tyson varied his grip on the hilts of his weapons, switching from a standard two-handed grip to a reverse grip and back again, each change in technique designed to keep Malak off-balance and guessing. The two men moved across the floor in a series of intricate steps, their feet constantly shifting and adjusting to maintain their balance and positioning. Malak pressed forward, his blade slashing down in a vicious overhead chop that Tyson barely managed to deflect with a quick, upward flick of his laser sword.


    Tyson countered with a spinning slash of his own, his lightsaber humming in a wide, horizontal arc that forced Malak to leap back to avoid being bisected. The dark lord landed in a crouch, his blade held high above his head, ready to strike at a moment''s notice. But Tyson was already moving, his feet carrying him forward in a quick, darting step that brought him inside Malak''s guard. His laser sword flashed up in a stabbing motion aimed directly at Malak''s chest.


    The dark lord''s crimson lightsaber swept down in a wide arc to intercept Tyson''s attack, the two energy blades clashing with a sizzling shower of sparks and an electric hiss. For a brief moment, the two men strained against each other, muscles taut, teeth gritted from the effort. This time Tyson broke the stalemate by executing a swift spin maneuver. The dark lord''s weapon was dragged downward as he momentarily lost his balance, stumbling forward a half-step. Seizing the opening, Tyson completed his spin by lashing out with a powerful hook kick that caught Malak in the back, further throwing the Sith Lord off-balance.


    Malak felt the toll of the intense duel, his metal jaw clenched tightly in frustration. But his eyes remained fixed on Tyson, blazing with a swirling mix of hatred and grudging respect for his apprentice''s skills. Tyson pressed his momentary advantage, leaping forward and raining down quick blows from his lightsaber. Malak retreated steadily, using his crimson blade to barely deflect the flurry of strikes. The dark lord''s expression was strained, his movements growing more erratic as he struggled to withstand Tyson.


    "You are strong, Typhon," he admitted, his voice a deep, mechanical growl. "But you cannot hope to defeat me. I am the true master of the dark side, and I will not be denied my destiny."


    Tyson only smiled, his confidence unshaken by Malak''s words. "We''ll see about that, Malak," he replied.


    The dark lord stepped back, his lightsaber held defensively in front of him, his metallic jaw clenching and unclenching as he regarded his opponent with equal parts grudging respect and contempt.


    "Your strength is in combat, Typhon," Malak growled, "But you are not strong with the Force. Not like I am."


    Suddenly, Malak''s hand shot out, his fingers splayed. Tyson felt an invisible force wrap around his throat, squeezing the air from his lungs and lifting him off the ground. He gasped and choked, his hands scrabbling at his neck, trying desperately to break free of Malak''s grip. But the dark lord was relentless, his eyes blazing with a fierce, malevolent light as he tightened his hold on Tyson''s throat. With a flick of his wrist, he sent Tyson hurtling through the air, his body slamming against the walls of the detention area.


    Tyson''s Gray Goo Suit reacted instinctively, sprouting thicker armor around his body to protect him from the impact. He hit the wall with a bone-jarring impact, the breath driven from his lungs in a harsh gasp. His suit absorbed much of the force, but he could still feel the sting of bruises blossoming across his back and shoulders. For a moment, he hung there, suspended against the durasteel bulkhead. As Malak released his hold, Tyson dropped to the ground, his body battered and bruised but still intact.


    He staggered to his feet, his breath coming in ragged gasps. But then Tyson reached out to the Force. He tapped into that wellspring of power, that connection to the cosmic energies that bound all life together. He could feel the Force flowing through him, its currents swirling and eddying around him.


    With a grunt of effort, Tyson extended his hand, his fingers splayed wide. A wave of energy rippled outward from his palm, slamming into Malak with the force of a tidal wave. The dark lord was hurled backward, crashing to the deck in a tangle of limbs and robes. But Tyson was not done. As Malak struggled to regain his footing, Tyson called upon the Force once more, this time channeling its energies inward.


    The bruises that had blossomed across his skin faded and vanished.


    Tyson could feel the Force flowing through him, restoring him to full health.


    The Gray Goo Suit began to shift and change. The nanites that composed the armor receded, reconfiguring themselves. The armored Jedi robes, which had sprouted to protect Tyson when he was flung into the wall, melted away. The plates and mesh that had covered him from head to toe peeled back, revealing the armor plates and sparse covering. In mere moments, the Suit had returned to the minimalist form it had borne at the start of the fight.


    Malak''s eyes widened in surprise as he watched the transformation take place, his lightsaber lowering slightly as he tried to make sense of what he was seeing. "What are you?" he demanded, his voice tinged with uncertainty.


    Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.


    Tyson smiled. "What I am," he said, his voice low and menacing, "is done playing around."


    With a roar of defiance, Tyson charged forward. He channeled the force to grant him speed. His mastery over the ability couldn''t match Malak''s, but Tyson at baseline was far faster and stronger than Malak, and now boosted, he was physically greater than the Sith Lord. He moved with a speed and agility that defied belief, his feet barely seeming to touch the ground as he closed the distance between them.


    Malak brought his crimson blade up, barely in time to meet Tyson''s attack. His eyes narrowed, focusing intently as he tried to read the other man''s moves. But Tyson was a blur of motion, too fast and unpredictable for Malak to fully track.


    Tyson''s twin swords flashed and whirled in a hypnotizing dance. He pressed forward aggressively, raining down blows from all angles. Malak parried desperately, giving ground beneath the onslaught. Try as he might, he could not keep up.


    One of Tyson''s blades slipped past his guard, leaving a burning gash along his forearm.


    Malak stumbled back with a hiss, adjusting his stance to protect the new injury. Tyson pressed forward relentlessly, his twin weapons striking again and again, seeking to overwhelm Malak''s weakening defenses. The Sith Lord found himself being driven back, his defenses tested to their very limits by the sheer ferocity of Tyson''s assault.


    Malak could feel a sense of unease growing within him as he parried and blocked and deflected. Tyson was relentless, his twin blades striking again and again, seeking to overwhelm Malak''s weakening defenses. The Sith Lord found himself being driven back, his defenses tested to their very limits by the sheer ferocity of Tyson''s assault.


    Since using the Force had been where Malak was most successful in the fight thus far, that was what he fell back on.


    As Tyson charged towards Darth Malak, the Sith''s hand shot out once more, his fingers curling into a claw-like grip as he attempted to use the Force to choke the life from his opponent.


    But Tyson was ready.


    His energy shield flared to life, dispersing Malak''s attack. The Force choke dissipated harmlessly, leaving Tyson unaffected and still bearing down on the Sith.


    "We''re not doing that again," Tyson growled.


    Malak''s eyes narrowed, a flicker of frustration crossing his face as he tried again, his hand thrusting forward with even greater force. But once more, Tyson''s shield held firm, the energy field absorbing the brunt of the attack and leaving him unscathed.


    "Your shield won''t last forever," Malak taunted, his metallic jaw clenching in a sneer of contempt.


    But Tyson only smiled, his confidence unshaken. "I don''t need my shield," he replied, his voice filled with a quiet, unwavering determination.


    Tyson charged forward once more, his lightsaber and laser sword blazing with deadly promise. Malak brought his blade up to meet the attack, his eyes narrowing in concentration as he prepared to unleash the full power of the Force against his opponent.


    But as Malak reached out with his mind, seeking to grasp hold of the invisible threads of energy that flowed through the universe, he felt a sudden, jarring emptiness. It was as if the Force itself had been ripped away from him, leaving him hollowed out and vulnerable.


    Tyson used Force Sever.


    He cut off Malak''s connection to the very power that had allowed him to fight at Tyson''s level. The Sith Lord staggered back, his eyes wide with shock and disbelief, his lightsaber wavering in his grip. Without the guidance of the Force, Malak was a far inferior combatant. His movements were sluggish and clumsy, his reflexes dulled by the sudden absence of the power that had flowed through his moments earlier. He tried to fight on, his lightsaber slashing through the air in a series of desperate, uncoordinated strikes.


    But Tyson was relentless. He pressed his advantage, driving Malak back.


    Malak''s defense crumbled. His lightsaber was unable to keep pace with the sheer speed and ferocity of Tyson''s attacks. With a final, devastating blow, Tyson''s blade sliced through Malak''s forearm, severing the limb and sending the Sith''s lightsaber clattering to the ground.


    Malak staggered back, his eyes wide with pain and shock, his remaining hand clutching at the smoking stump of his arm. He looked up at Tyson, his gaze filled with a mixture of hatred and fear, the realization of his mortality dawning upon him like a cold, creeping dread.


    But Tyson showed no mercy, his blades hovering mere inches from Malak''s throat, the energy fields humming with deadly promise. "It''s over, Malak," he said, his voice low and menacing. "You''ve lost."


    Behind them, Vicky stirred. The Force Stasis that had held her immobile dissolved as Tyson''s Sever Force ability took hold.


    "You could''ve done that from the start," she said, her voice tinged with annoyance. "I could''ve helped."


    Tyson turned to face her with a rueful smile. "I know," he admitted, his voice low and apologetic. "But it''s my first Sith Lord. I wanted to try on my own... Sorry."


    Vicky rolled her eyes, her frustration evident in the set of her shoulders. "What now?" she asked, her gaze shifting to the fallen form of Malak.


    Malak was not begging. The Sith Lord thought that such a display of weakness was what Darth Typhon wanted, and he refused to give him the satisfaction. With a final, defiant effort, Malak pushed himself up on his remaining arm, his eyes blazing with hatred and contempt.


    "I will not beg for my life," he spat, his metallic jaw clenching with each word. "I am Darth Malak, the true Lord of the Sith. If you seek to end my life, then do so, but know that you will never defeat the true power of the dark side. There will always be another to take my place, another to carry on the legacy of the Sith."


    Tyson shrugged, his expression nonchalant. "Never say never," he replied. Vicky approached, dual-blaster pistols trained on the Sith Lord. With a final, dismissive glance at the fallen Sith, Tyson turned and made his way towards the door of the detention area. He reached into his pocket and withdrew his Access Key.


    As he held the key up, the door opened revealing the entrance to his Personal Reality. Together, they approached Malak keeping their weapons trained on the fallen Sith. Vicky kept her blaster pistols at the ready, her eyes never leaving Malak''s face as Tyson hauled him to his feet.


    With a threatening gesture, Tyson forced Malak through the door and into the Warehouse beyond. The vast space remained mostly empty, save a few of Tyson''s acquisitions. In the corner nearest the entrance sat a transparent chamber that Tyson had never used or even acknowledged since its sudden appearance.


    The Agony Booth.


    Tyson had never brought himself to consider using the diabolical torture device that had come as a free item when he''d selected the Bad Guy Origin. The Booth had sat dormant all this time, but now, with the defeated Sith Lord Malak before him, Tyson felt a shift in perspective. Malak represented a genuine form of evil; if Tyson hadn''t intervened when he did, at this very moment Malak would be in the process of killing billions in his relentless pursuit of Bastila.


    Tyson seemed to sense Malak''s trepidation as he regarded the transparent chamber. A small, cruel smile played at the corners of Tyson''s mouth, his earlier lightheartedness replaced by cold callousness.


    "Get in," he ordered.


    Malak hesitated for a moment, his eyes darting from the chamber to Tyson''s face and back again. But he complied, his steps heavy as he made his way toward the waiting cell.


    As the door sealed shut behind him, Malak turned to face his captors, his expression defiant. "You think this simple cell can hold me?" he sneered, his metallic jaw twisting in an approximation of a smile. "I am the Dark Lord of the Sith. No prison can contain my power."


    But Tyson only smiled, "Remember when you said that there would always be a Sith to take your place?" Malak squinted, his brow furrowing. But Tyson continued, his tone almost amused. "You were right, of course. The Sith will never truly be defeated. There will always be another to take up the mantle of the dark side, to carry on the legacy of the Sith."


    He turned to Vicky, who still wore the guise of Bastila Shan. "Show him who the new Sith Lord is going to be," he said, his voice filled with a quiet, unwavering confidence.


    Vicky stared at him for a moment before her mouth opened in a surprised "O," her eyes widened with sudden understanding. "So that''s your plan," she said, a slow smile spread across her face. "I like it."


    With a ripple of quicksilver running through her skin, Vicky''s form began to shift and change. Her features melted and reformed, her body growing taller and more muscular as the guise of Bastila Shan fell away.


    In her place stood a figure that was all too familiar to Malak, a figure that he had seen every day in the mirror. Vicky had taken on the appearance of Darth Malak himself, her face and body a perfect replica of the fallen Sith Lord''s own.


    Malak stared in shock, his eyes wide with disbelief and horror. "What is this?" he demanded, his voice hoarse and ragged. "What trickery is this?"


    But Tyson only smiled, his expression filled with amusement. "Meet the next Lord of the Sith," he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "Darth Malak."


    He chuckled, the sound of his laughter echoing through the Warehouse like the tolling of a funeral bell. He turned to the Agony Booth, his hand hovering over the control panel.


    "You''re right, Malak," he said, his voice low and menacing. "The Sith need a strong Lord to lead them and keep them in line. You made me your apprentice, but if you disappeared so soon afterward, no one would respect my legitimacy. Since your reputation keeps the entire Sith military in line, we''ll just keep using it. Well, Vicky will be... you''ll just be here screaming."


    With a final, cruel smile, Tyson''s hand moved to rest on a small, innocuous-looking control panel set into the wall beside the chamber. He activated the Agony Booth, the device humming to life with a soft, menacing hiss.


    Instantly, Malak screamed, his body convulsing in agony as the energy fields within the chamber tore at his flesh and mind. He writhed and thrashed, his remaining hand clawing desperately at the transparent walls of his prison, his eyes wide with horror and despair.


    The Booth hummed and crackled, releasing twisting arcs of lightning that sent Malak into tortured spasms. After long minutes that felt like hours, Tyson powered down the device to its minimum setting, leaving a weakened, gasping Malak to collapse limply to the floor.


    Tyson watched impassively, his expression unreadable as he observed the fallen Sith''s torment. Beside him, Vicky shifted uneasily.


    "Is this really necessary?" she asked uncertainly. "We''ve already defeated him. Surely there''s no need for... this."


    Tyson only shook his head in response. "I tried to show mercy to Bendak Starkiller, and he tried to kill me again," he said, his voice hard and unflinching. "Malak turned against his master and friend, and would have slaughtered billions. He does not deserve such kindness." As if it were an afterthought, Tyson added, "The energies generated by the Booth should also serve to disrupt his connection to the Force. As long as it remains active, he will be unable to call upon his powers to escape. It''s one of the few ways I could reliably detain a Jedi."


    She knew that Tyson was right, but still, a part of her couldn''t help but feel a twinge of pity for the fallen Sith.


    ¡ª Star Jumper ¡ª


    Vicky stepped onto the bridge of the Leviathan and strode towards Admiral Karath. The crew snapped to attention as she passed, their eyes wide with fear at the sight of the Dark Lord of the Sith. But it was not Darth Malak who walked among them, not truly.


    "Admiral," she said, her voice a perfect imitation of Malak''s deep, metallic rasp. "I have finished interrogating the Jedi Padawan, Bastila Shan."


    "And what did you learn, my lord?" Karath asked, his tone carefully neutral.


    "Sadly, she did not survive the questioning." Vicky said, "Shame, she would''ve made an excellent acolyte."


    Karath''s jaw tightened, his eyes narrowing as he processed the news. But he knew better than to question the Dark Lord''s methods, knew that to do so would be to invite his destruction.


    Vicky continued, "But there is no reason for us to remain in this backwater. We will relocate our fleet to the Allanteen system."


    Karath nodded, his expression thoughtful. "Do you plan to make another push for Osarian, my lord?" he asked.


    But Vicky shook her head, her gaze hardening with resolve. "Not yet," she said, her words sharp and decisive. "We will draw a line in the sand, and see if the Republic crosses it. Without Bastila, they may not take the offensive. We hold our position and see how they react."


    Karath bowed his head, his voice filled with respect and obedience. "I understand, my lord," he said. He turned to face the crew of the Leviathan, his voice ringing out across the bridge with the force of a command. "You all heard Lord Malak''s orders. Get to it. Contact the fleet, I want to be out of this system within the hour."


    The crew leaped into action. The bridge hummed with activity, but amidst the bustle and the noise, Vicky stood apart. With a final, resolute nod, she turned away from the viewport, her gaze sweeping across the bridge of the Leviathan. She could feel the eyes of the crew upon her, but she paid them no heed.


    And so, with a final, imperious gesture, Vicky strode from the bridge. Behind her, the crew of the Leviathan worked to carry out her orders.

 Season 1: Episode 9.2 - Mary Sue Epilogue

    Episode 9.2 - Mary Sue Epilogue


    Stardate: 41173.3


    Earth Standard Date: March 04, 2364.


    Galactic Date: 23rd Day of the Second Month, 3956 BBY


    Location: Housing Complex, Personal Reality


    Though Tyson had left the ominous electric hum of the Warehouse''s Agony Booth behind, the ghost of Malak''s anguished screams still echoed in his mind. Tyson knew he had been merciful. The Sith Lord still lived after all. Yet guilt gnawed at him for inflicting such pain, even at the lowest power setting.


    Vicky settled beside him, her presence a comforting warmth against the chill of his doubts. She studied his pensive face. "So..." she began tentatively, "I''m going to be the new Sith Lord?"


    Tyson met her earnest gaze, the barest hint of a wry smile tugging at his lips. "Only if you want to be," he said, his voice low and serious. Though he trusted her with his life, placing the reins of a Sith armada into her hands was no small thing. Tyson held her gaze, his expression grave. "You don''t have to do it. But Malak wasn''t wrong. If he simply disappears, another Sith will inevitably rise to take his place. It''s in their nature."


    "You know I can move between worlds, and I feel I''ve been away for too long. Honestly, I spent less time there than here, yet it weighs on me." He added softly after a pause, "Malak is deposed, and Bastila has escaped Taris. I don''t feel there''s much left keeping me here."


    Vicky''s brow furrowed. "Except for me, right?" she asked, her voice soft and uncertain.


    Tyson smiled, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "Right," he said, his voice warm with affection.


    But Vicky''s expression remained thoughtful. "Well, the good thing about me is that I can be in more than one place at once, you know, so you don''t miss me. Wouldn''t want you getting all sad."


    Tyson''s eyes widened. "You can create duplicates of your body with nanobots?" he asked.


    But Vicky shook her head. "No, that''s one of my few limitations," she said, "But there''s something else I can do."


    She reached out, her hand hovering over Tyson''s, the air between them crackling with a sudden, palpable energy. Tyson watched, as Vicky''s eyes fluttered closed, her brow furrowing with concentration.


    For a moment, nothing happened. But then, with a sudden, pulse of light, Vicky''s hand began to glow, a web of shimmering, iridescent strands flowed from her fingertips and into the fabric of Tyson''s Gray Goo Suit; the strands mixed and entwined into his nanites. He gasped at the sudden sensation of the suit coming alive around him. Vicky''s presence within the system animated the billions of tiny nanobots that comprised the advanced technology.


    He could feel her consciousness intertwined with the suit, her thoughts and emotions flowing through the network of nanites and into his mind through his HUD. It was a connection, unlike anything he had experienced before, an intimacy that transcended the physical form. Though the suit encased his body, it was less like armor, and more like an extension of his flesh.


    Tyson reeled at this sudden closeness. Never before had he felt so connected, so intertwined with another. Vicky had woven her very essence into the technology that surrounded him, linking them on a profound level that went beyond physical contact. She''d created a Virtual Intelligence inside his Gray Goo Suit. Her consciousness was now a part of it, making the suit no longer just an extension of himself, but an extension of Vicky as well.


    And as the last of the strands faded away, Tyson knew that he would never be alone again. Vicky was with him now, a constant Companion and guardian, her presence a comforting warmth that would never fade.


    "I don''t know what I would do without you," he said warmly.


    "You''ll never have to find out," she said with a smile, her voice soft and tender. "I''ll always be with you, Tyson. No matter where you go, no matter what dangers you face, I''ll be there to keep you safe."


    Tyson reached out, his hand finding hers, their fingers intertwining in a gesture of unbreakable bond. Vicky was more than just a lover. She was his Companion a part of him now, a piece of him, and together, they would face whatever challenges lay ahead, would weather whatever storms the galaxy or the universe threw their way.


    And so, with a final, tender smile, Tyson rose to his feet, his hand still clasped tightly in Vicky''s. Together, they stepped out ready to face whatever the future held.


    ¡ª Star Jumper ¡ª


    Vicky shifted into her guise as Darth Malak. The transformation was seamless, her features melting and reforming until she stood tall and imposing, a perfect replica of the defeated Sith Lord. She stepped through the Inter-Reality Connecting Door and into the detention area of the Leviathan.


    As the door slid shut, Tyson found himself alone in the antechamber. He turned, his gaze falling upon the two doors that flanked him, each one was a portal to a different reality, a different path that he could choose to follow.


    The first door led to the Enterprise-D, the flagship of the United Federation of Planets. Tyson knew that if he stepped through that door, he would find himself in the guest quarters, back among the crew that had once welcomed him. He thought back to the last time he had stood upon the ship.


    Thanks to Q''s Drawback, he''d been transported from its bridge to an Orion Tramp Freighter and dragged through an unknown spatial anomaly. As far as the Enterprise-D crew was concerned, he was lost with the Orion ship.


    The second door was more rough-hewn and utilitarian. It led to T''Pol''s quarters on the NX-01 Enterprise, an earlier human spaceship that predated the formation of the United Federation of Planets. Its current mission was stopping the Xindi, a race of aliens who attacked Earth, killing millions, in an attack that was a prelude to one meant to destroy the planet. Tyson thought about the last time he had stepped through that door. He had returned to the NX-01 from the Trellium-D asteroid field, fresh from his rescue of T''Pol and the crew of the Vulcan D''Kyr-class cruiser, Seleya. Now, those same Vulcans lay sleeping in the Medical Bay of his Personal Reality, their bodies and minds still healing from the ravages of the Trellium-D. Tomorrow, they would awaken, whole and healthy once more.


    He hadn''t had a plan when purchased the Medical Bay to help them, hadn''t known what he would do with over a hundred Vulcans who owed him their lives. But he had acted in the moment, had done what he believed to be right, and now he would have to face the consequences of that decision.


    As Tyson stood there, considering which door to enter, the wall beside the two doors began to shimmer and glow, pulsing with a strange, otherworldly light. He watched as a third door began to take shape, its surface suffused with a soft, inviting radiance.


    Tyson saw a projection of Vicky appear in his field of view. It wasn''t truly Vicky, he recognized it as the Virtual Intelligence that Vicky had created within his Gray Goo Suit. She was projecting her image and voice within his HUD where only he could see her.


    "What is that?" VI Vicky asked, her voice tinged with curiosity as she regarded the third door.


    Tyson knew instantly what this mysterious door represented, understanding the purpose for which it had materialized before them. "It''s the Benefactor''s Lounge," he explained aloud. "The place where I, where we, can commune with Q, the omnipotent entity who set me on this journey."


    Tyson contemplated the holographic image of Vicky projected before him, a Virtual Intelligence created by his companion to reside within the nanites of his Gray Goo Suit. Though bearing Vicky''s face and voice, this was not truly her.


    "Does the real Vicky share your experiences? Are you directly linked to her?" he asked aloud.


    The VI shook her head. "No. We are separate entities unless we''re near enough for wireless contact. Trans-dimensional communication is still off the table."


    Tyson nodded in understanding. If this facsimile was to accompany him at all times, it would get confusing to refer to her also as Vicky. She needed a name. His mind drifted back to the origins of his companion. Vicky had begun existence as a V-KO IV Nursedroid. The IV represented the fourth iteration of her model. And this Vicky now, ironically, stood as the fourth Vicky ''intelligence'' that he could recall. There was the original Vicky, who''d just left, posing as Darth Malak. She had created other Virtual Intelligence. There was the one in the Sith base, then within the Leviathan. Now, the ''fourth'' Vicky, that resided within his suit.


    ''Four'' sounded too silly. ''Quatro'' was too obvious. But the Roman numerals provided Tyson inspiration.


    "Let''s call you Ivy," he declared.


    The projected girl smiled and nodded. "I like it," she replied, her voice warm with approval. Then, glancing towards the glowing portal, "So do we go through the door?"


    Tyson gazed at the shimmering doorway. He paused, reflecting that it felt as though months had passed since that fateful day, though in truth it had only been around a week since he first arrived on the Enterprise-D, and a mere five days since he awoke in the Star Wars Knights of the Old Republic universe.


    The last time he''d heard from Q had been his disembodied voice after Tyson had escaped the destruction of Endar Spire. Yet he sensed with certainty that the mischievous entity was watching, being entertained by Tyson''s adventure. The manifestation of the Benefactor''s Lounge could only mean one thing. Q was summoning him. And if there was one thing Tyson knew better than to do, it was keep a god-like being waiting.


    Reaching out, he grasped the handle of the glowing door. Tyson pushed it open and stepped through.


    The Benefactor''s Lounge manifested before Tyson once again, though it had changed since his last visit. Previously, it took on the appearance of the cantina from Mos Eisley. This time it manifested as a calmer, more subdued setting. He found himself standing inside the entrance of Ten-Forward, the iconic lounge aboard the Enterprise-D. He recognized the sleek interior instantly, from the tables to the viewport spanning the outer wall of the ship, to the bartop where patrons sat sipping colorful beverages.


    Stepping further inside, Tyson spotted Q seated at the bar, nursing some alien concoction. On the small stage at the front of the lounge, Commander Riker stood with a trombone in hand, backed by a smooth jazz band.


    Tyson tuned out the background as mostly stage-dressing and headed directly to the barstool beside Q.


    As he sat, Tyson''s eyes roamed the interior of Ten Forward, drinking in every detail. It was a replica of the lounge he remembered from the show as if Q had pulled the setting straight from his memories. Though he''d been on the Enterprise-D previously, his stay had been brief compared to his time in the Star Wars universe and he hadn''t visited Ten-Forward on his tour of the ship. His time on the Enterprise seemed so long ago that a wave of nostalgia washed over him at the sight of the Galaxy-class ship''s premier lounge.


    "Well, well, well," Q greeted, "Look who finally decided to drop by. I was beginning to think you''d forgotten all about little old me."


    "I haven''t forgotten anything," Tyson responded, "I''ve been a little busy. What with saving the galaxy and all."


    Q chuckled, "Oh, ho ho, the irony. That''s what you think, huh? You did in fact forget something. That Augment brain of yours must be still suffering from its original monkey-evolved parts." he said, his tone dripping with condescension. "And I know all about your little adventures. Quite the hero, aren''t you? Saving damsels in distress, gladiator battles, stopping a planet from being destroyed. It''s all very impressive, I''m sure."


    "Aww, come on," Tyson said, his voice tinged with a hint of playful indignation. "You''re telling me you didn''t enjoy the show? I got Bastila off Taris."


    Q held up a hand, his eyes sparkling with a mischievous glint. "That was one of the best parts," he interjected, his voice dripping with sarcasm.


    Tyson squinted, his mind flashing back to the moment when the Ebon Hawk had escaped the doomed planet. He''d received bonus Reality Points. More than he thought he should have. Q mentioned he''d forgotten something, and combined with that statement, and the bonus Reality Points, Tyson knew he was missing part of the picture. He pushed the thought aside. It was something to think over later.


    "We stopped the bombing of Taris," he continued, his voice growing more insistent. "That has to be worth something. Saving, I don''t know... Billions of people." He ticked off his accomplishments on his fingers. "Plus, I beat Bendak Starkiller. And Darth Bandon. And Darth Malak. All one-on-one. I pretty much soloed the game while still in the tutorial." Q raised an eyebrow, his expression a mixture of amusement and skepticism. "And we took over the Sith fleet," Tyson added.


    Q scoffed, his eyes rolling. "You mean Vicky took over the Sith fleet," he corrected.


    "An omnipotent space god gives me advice, you''d think I''d listen," Tyson said, his tone mock-scolding. "You can''t give me hints, then get salty when I use it."


    A rueful grin spread across Q''s face. "Touch¨¦," he admitted, his voice filled with a grudging respect. "It isn''t often that humans listen to my advice."


    Regarding Tyson with a curious expression, his eyes glinting with amusement. "You know, Tyson," he said, his voice filled with a casual nonchalance that belied the weight of his words, "you''re not the first I''ve watched run through Taris, knowing what would happen to the planet."


    Tyson knew that the entity had a vast and unknowable knowledge of the multiverse, but to hear him speak of other realities so casually¡­


    "Do you know what most do?" Q asked, his tone conversational.


    Tyson shook his head and shrugged but couldn''t help but be curious.


    Q''s smile widened, his eyes sparkling with a mischievous glint. "Most everyone saves Bastila, tries to romance either her or Carth, if they swing that way, then loot Taris for everything that''s not bolted down before the planet is destroyed," he said, his voice dripping with a mock seriousness that did little to conceal his amusement.


    Tyson couldn''t fault Q''s statement. Most gamers played through RPGs like murder-hobos, or at the very least, looted everything they came across in an attempt to get a leg-up. Throwing someone into KOTOR, a videogame version of Star Wars, made it easy to forget it wasn''t a game, that it was a real planet, filled with real people. The Roleplay part of Roleplaying Games was often lost.


    But even as he grappled with the implications of Q''s words, the entity''s expression softened, his eyes growing serious and contemplative. "But you," he said, his voice filled with a quiet intensity, "you did something different. Something unexpected."


    "I''m impressed," Q said, his voice filled with a rare sincerity that caught Tyson off guard. "You could have taken the easy way out, could have looked out for yourself, and to hell with everyone else. But instead, you chose to be a hero¡­ And you didn''t just choose to be the hero," he said, his voice filled with a playful mockery. "You were also the Space Pirate and the Bad Guy."


    "Did I?" Tyson asked, uncertain that Q was accurate.


    Q''s smile widened, his eyes glinting with amusement. "You yourself said that you hijacked the Sith Fleet," he pointed out, his tone almost gleeful. "Sounds awfully like something a Space Pirate would do. You took up the mantle of Darth Typhon, becoming apprentice to the Lord of the Sith. And then you defeated your master and stuck him in an Agony Booth. Then replaced him to rule over the Sith. That sounds an awful lot like what the Bad Guy of the story would do."


    "That''s the difference between you and the humans of this time," he said, waving his arm around Ten-Forward. "They''ve got their heads stuck so far up their idealism that they wouldn''t have done what was necessary to save all those people on Taris." Q''s eyes narrowed, his gaze boring into Tyson with an intensity that was almost palpable. "Tell me," he said, his voice low and challenging. "Which of them would''ve done what you did? Would Picard? Would Riker? Would Worf even?"


    "Maybe," Tyson said uncertainly. "I don''t really know them, I wasn''t here long enough to say for sure."


    Q rolled his eyes, his exasperation evident in every line of his being. "You''ve seen what you needed to see," he said, referring to Tyson''s knowledge of Star Trek: The Next Generation and its accompanying movies.


    Tyson''s expression grew thoughtful, his mind casting back to the adventures he had witnessed on screen. "Maybe," he said, his voice growing more confident. "Picard was doing what needed to be done in First Contact."


    Q scoffed. "Yes, but that was my doing, remember?" he said, his voice filled with smug satisfaction. "Picard''s animosity was from being assimilated, which wouldn''t have happened the same way if I hadn''t flung the Enterprise into the path of that cube."


    Tyson nodded, conceding the point. "Okay, Riker did what was necessary in Best of Both Worlds," he countered.


    Q''s smile widened, a hint of approval creeping into his expression. "He did," he admitted. "That''s why I always liked old Jazz-Beard. But also, my intervention. Riker had to step up because Picard was assimilated, wouldn''t have happened if I didn''t have my finger on the scales."


    "Fair enough," Tyson said, his voice tinged with resignation. But then his eyes lit up. "Worf does what needs to be done. In First Contact, he was ready to ram the Defiant into the Cube."


    Q held up his hand, but Tyson pressed on, his voice growing more insistent. "Yes, yes, I know, Borg, your intervention. But what about that time when he discovers the truth behind his family''s dishonor? He accepts the dishonor instead of plunging the Klingon Empire into civil war."


    Q nodded, a grudging respect evident in his eyes. "Fair enough," he said, "The Klingon might have done what was needed, but he''s far too rigid. He wouldn''t have been able to do all that you did. The direct battles, perhaps, the choices necessary to save the planet''s population, certainly. But the subtlety, not so much. He doesn''t possess the guile for such an approach and likely would''ve gotten himself killed before ever reaching Malak."


    Tyson''s expression grew thoughtful. "You said that Picard didn''t do what was necessary without your intervention, but would I have? All of my choices and actions only came about because you put me in the situation that forced my hand, just as you did with him and the Borg."


    Q''s smile widened, "The difference is choice," he said, "Picard had no choice but to follow the path I set him on. He couldn''t retreat from the Borg or Earth would have been assimilated. You could have escaped Malak, and Taris, leaving it to its fate."


    He paused, his expression growing serious once more. "They can use someone like you."


    But then, as quickly as it had come, the seriousness vanished, replaced by Q''s usual playful demeanor. "But that''s enough with the philosophical hogwash," he said, his voice filled with a mock exasperation. "I enjoyed the show you put on, so here''s your reward."


    Messages flashed through Tyson''s HUD.


    The Voyager Problem (Drawback) Removed!


    Episode: Star Wars Knights of the Old Republic - Leviathan Complete!


    +500 RP


    Episode: Star Wars Knights of the Old Republic - Darth Malak Complete!


    +200 RP


    Reality Points: 900


    [+400 CP] Mary Sue (Drawback)


    They are ridiculously overpowered and have overwhelming plot armor. Their goals & actions directly oppose yours. What¡¯s more, they know about you and believe that if they ¡°befriend¡± you hard enough you can be redeemed and join their harem.


    Character Points: 1400


    "How is the Mary Sue drawback a reward?!" he exclaimed, his voice rising in pitch and volume. "According to this, there''s someone out there overpowered, that has plot armor and is trying to make me a part of their harem? Me. Part of their harem! What the hell, Q?"


    Suddenly, Tyson felt the shift in the room through his Cosmic Awareness Perk. He realized that the Benefactor''s Lounge wasn''t a recreation of Ten-Forward on the Enterprise-D, he was actually on the Enterprise-D.


    His outburst drew the attention of nearby Starfleet crewmen and officers, their curious gazes turning towards the commotion. Q, however, remained unperturbed, a mischievous glint in his eyes as he regarded Tyson with an air of amused superiority.


    "I didn''t create this problem," Q chided, his voice dripping with mock innocence. "Well, I did, but you could''ve fixed it before it became a bigger problem. I''m just rewarding you for your mistakes. Your actions on Taris, or rather your inaction in a critical part of the story led to this..." He spread his hands wide as if presenting a grand gift. "Look on the bright side. At least you''re being rewarded for the problem you created."


    Tyson stared at Q, flabbergasted, his mind reeling as he tried to process the entity''s cryptic words. "What are you talking about?" he demanded, his voice tinged with confusion and frustration.


    As Q smirked, offering no further explanation, Tyson''s thoughts raced, desperately trying to piece together what he might have missed on Taris. The Undercity, maybe? He had never bothered visiting. Or could it be Bastila? He hadn''t interacted with her much, but what critical part of the plot had he overlooked? The Ebon Hawk had gotten off Taris, he had been on the bridge of the Leviathan and ensured it happened. That was the main plot as far as he remembered. Who was this Mary Sue supposed to be? Bastila? Alysia? Someone else he''d forgotten, overlooked, or never met?


    Tyson''s internal deliberation was abruptly interrupted as Commander Riker, fresh from his trombone performance, approached the growing commotion. His eyes narrowed as he took in the scene, his gaze locking onto their omnipotent tormentor.


    "Q!" Riker exclaimed, warily. "What are you doing here?"


    With a snap of his fingers, a flash of light engulfed the room. When it faded, Q stood before them dressed in the resplendent uniform of a colonial-era naval officer, complete with a tricorn hat and gleaming brass buttons.


    Tyson looked down, his eyes widening in surprise as he realized he was now clad in the tattered finery of a pirate captain. A quick glance at Riker revealed that the commander had undergone a similar transformation, his Starfleet uniform replaced by a swashbuckler''s garb.


    Before either of them could react, Q''s voice rang out, filled with theatrical glee. "You''ll never catch me, Jazz-beard!" he cried, and with another snap and flash of light, he vanished, leaving behind Tyson and the echoes of his laughter.


    Riker tore the pirate hat from his head and threw it to the ground. His face was a mask of frustration as he commented, "I don''t even have a beard," taking in the stunned faces of his fellow crew members before settling on the other man dressed in pirate attire.


    "Tyson?" Riker asked, his voice filled with a mixture of confusion and disbelief. "Is that you?"


    Tyson quickly forced his expression to mirror Riker''s bewilderment.


    When in doubt, play dumb.


    "Yeah, it''s me," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "I... I don''t know what''s going on, Commander..."


    He trailed off, gesturing helplessly at his pirate garb. Riker''s eyes narrowed, his mind working to assess the situation. "What did Q want with you?" he asked, his voice sharp with concern. "What was he talking about?"


    Tyson hesitated, unsure of how much he should reveal. How could he explain his journey through multiple realities, his adventures on Taris, and his confrontation with Darth Malak? It all seemed so far removed from the Enterprise.


    Tyson settled for a half-truth. "I''m not sure I understand it all myself. But Q claimed I was a Space Pirate, and then he disappeared."


    Riker''s expression softened slightly, a hint of sympathy creeping into his eyes. He gestured to his attire. "That sounds familiar, and exactly like Q," he said, his voice tinged with resignation and frustration. "Playing games."


    He placed a hand on Tyson''s shoulder, his grip firm and reassuring. "Whatever''s going on, we''ll figure it out. Despite whatever game Q is playing, he brought you back."


    As the crew of the Enterprise bustled around them, working to restore order in the wake of Q''s latest prank, Tyson couldn''t keep his mind off wondering what he had set in motion on Taris. Who was this Mary Sue that Q had warned him about?


    ¡ª Star Jumper ¡ª


    The Ebon Hawk glided gracefully through the atmosphere of Dantooine, its engines humming with a soft, reassuring purr. As the ship descended towards the Jedi enclave, the rolling hills and lush grasslands of the planet coming into view were a stark contrast to the urban sprawl of Taris they had left behind. With a gentle thud, the Ebon Hawk touched down on the landing pad, its ramp extending to meet the ground. The air was filled with the scent of fresh grass and the distant sound of flowing water, a peaceful ambiance that seemed to wash away the tension of their recent ordeals.


    As the ship''s systems powered down, the crew gathered in the main hold. Bastila stepped forward, her eyes scanning the familiar surroundings visible through the viewports.


    "Dantooine..." she said, her voice tinged with a hint of nostalgia. "It seems like a lifetime since I last set foot on her surface, though in truth it has only been a few months. We should be safe from Malak here... for now, at least."


    Carth''s brow furrowed, his voice thick with skepticism. "Safe? You saw his fleet over Taris."


    Bastila turned to face him, her expression serene but resolute. "Even the Sith would think twice before attacking Dantooine. There are many Jedi here, including several of the most powerful Masters of the Order. There is great strength within this place."


    The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there.


    Alysia, her eyes shining with a quiet certainty, spoke up. "Have faith that the Force guided Tyson to Malak''s fleet for a reason. Perhaps he will find a way to interfere with the Sith. Our mission was to protect Bastila and return her to the Republic. We did that, and we saved others along the way."


    D''Lavina, the former slave girl who had been clinging to Avner''s side since their escape from Taris, looked up at the mention of an unfamiliar name. She asked, "Who is Tyson?"


    Avner explained, "He was one of our companions. He fought his way off the Endar Spire, just as myself, Carth and Trask did. He was the dueling champion on Taris and retrieved the clearance codes we used to get past the Sith blockade."


    D''Lavina''s eyes widened with interest. "Was he a Jedi?" she pressed.


    Alysia shook her head, a thoughtful expression crossing her face. "He was untrained, but he had great potential."


    "He sounds fascinating," D''Lavina mused, "What was he like?"


    Mission, who had been sitting nearby, perked up at the question. "Tall, muscular, wild hair, light brown skin."


    Something about the description tickled D''Lavina''s mind. Her curiosity grew. She asked, "He was the dueling champion. Are any of his fights available to view?" While she got whispers of what was happening on Taris, she rarely caught glimpses of the holonet while posing as Davik''s girl.


    "Yeah, we''ve got the recordings," Mission said, her voice filled with excitement. "It was me who got him into the ring."


    As D''Lavina moved to join Mission, Bastila''s voice cut through the chatter. "Now I must go speak with the Council," she announced, her tone brooking no argument. "I need their advice on... recent developments. After I have met with them I will meet you outside the ship."


    Mission produced a small datapad and called up the recording of Tyson''s first fight in the dueling ring. "This was his match against Deadeye Duncan," she explained, her voice filled with amusement. "It wasn''t much of a fight."


    As the holographic image flickered to life, D''Lavina felt her breath catch in her throat. The figure on the screen, tall and powerful, was unmistakable. It was him. The man who had been beamed onto their Tramp Freighter just before they were sucked into the Anomaly. She remembered his challenge, the way he had called for a Barter by Combat. She had come so close to having him under the sway of her pheromones. But he''d turned the tables on her, somehow resisting her and nearly forcing her to submit. Then the Anomaly pulled them through once more, depositing them in this strange new galaxy.


    D''Lavina watched the recording of Tyson easily dispatching his opponent, his skill and power were evident. He was the only link to her home, a connection to the life she had left behind. And from what the others had said, he was far stronger than he had displayed on the Tramp Freighter.


    As the recording ended, D''Lavina knew then that she had stumbled upon someone important, someone who could change everything. She quietly resolved to ingratiate herself with these Jedi, to become a part of their circle. And when the opportunity presented itself, she would investigate Tyson further.


    The group disembarked from the Ebon Hawk, their feet touching the weathered stone of the Jedi Enclave''s landing pad. Calo and Davik remained onboard, understandably not wanting to present themselves before the Jedi. As they gathered, Bastila approached.


    "I have spoken briefly with the council," she announced, her voice carrying a note of urgency. "They request an audience with you. We should go at once."


    Carth''s brow furrowed, his hand instinctively moving to rest on his blaster. "An audience with the Jedi Council?" he asked, his voice thick with skepticism. "That''s pretty unusual for someone who isn''t even a Jedi. What''s this about, Bastila?"


    Bastila''s eyes flickered with a hint of uncertainty, but her voice remained steady. "I''m sorry, Carth, but I cannot tell you. All I ask is that you trust in the Force and the wisdom of the Council."


    Carth''s jaw clenched, his frustration evident in the set of his shoulders. But after a moment, he nodded, his voice gruff but resigned. "Well, I don''t like being left out of the loop, but I''m not looking to get you in any trouble with the Jedi Masters. We''ll do things your way for a while."


    "Come," Bastila said, gesturing towards the imposing structure of the Enclave. "They are expecting us. I will lead you to the Council chambers."


    As they made their way through the Enclave, D''Lavina''s eyes darted about, taking in every detail. Finally, they arrived at the Council chambers. Four Jedi Masters stood waiting, their faces a mixture of wisdom and wariness. One of them, a Twi''lek with kind eyes, stepped forward.


    "Ah, so you are the one who rescued Bastila," he said, addressing Avner. His voice was warm, but there was an undercurrent of tension that belied the gravity of the situation. "It is appropriate you are here. We have been discussing your rather special case. I am Zhar, a member of the Jedi Council. With me are Master Vrook, Master Vandar, and, of course, the Chronicler of our Academy, Master Dorak. Padawan Bastila and Knight Rahn you are already familiar with."


    Avner''s brow furrowed, a flicker of confusion passing over his face. "Isn''t the Jedi Council on Coruscant?" he asked, his voice tinged with uncertainty.


    Zhar inclined his head in acknowledgment. "Yes, the governing body of the Jedi Order convenes on Coruscant. But we oversee the academy here on Dantooine." He turned to face Alysa, his lekku swaying slightly with the movement. "Speaking of which, Knight Rahn. You performed admirably in ensuring Bastila''s safe return. I''m sure your journey has been fraught with peril, but I must inform you that we received word from Coruscant. Your former master, High Council member, Master Atris, requests your presence. She will undoubtedly have many questions about the events on Taris and your firsthand experiences battling the Sith."


    He paused, regarding Alysa solemnly. "We wish you safe travels, and send our regards to your former master."


    Alysia gave a short bow in response. She bid Bastila a brief farewell, then pivoted on her heel and strode from the chamber, robes swishing around her legs.


    The Twi''lek master''s expression grew serious as he addressed Avner and his companions. "We owe you a debt. Darth Malak seeks to destroy the Jedi Order. Our most effective weapon, perhaps our only hope, is Bastila''s skill with Battle Meditation. With this power, she can swing the tide of nearly any battle in our favor. Which is why Malak was seeking her so fervently."


    Master Vrook, his face lined with worry and suspicion, interjected. "That is why he laid the ambush for the Endar Spire. Why he blockaded Taris."


    Zhar nodded solemnly, his eyes sweeping over the assembled group. "We need Bastila in our fight against the Sith. Indeed, we need every Jedi we can muster since the Sith have been hunting us down at every opportunity." His gaze settled on Avner, a spark of something like hope kindling in his eyes. "Which brings us to you..."


    "We can all tell you''re strong in the Force," the Twi''lek master said, "We are considering you for Jedi training, Avner."


    "And not just you," he said, Zhar''s gaze shifted, landing squarely on D''Lavina. Gesturing towards the Orion woman, he said, "We sense that your green-skinned companion also shares your incredibly strong Force presence."


    <hr>


    The following is the final complete Season 1 Character Sheet, including descriptions in case you forgot.


    Tyson


    Origins: Human, Humanoid, Drop-In, Space Pirate, Bad Guy


    Space Pirate


    Whatever you want, you take it by force. Property, people, lives? Doesn¡¯t matter. Many Space Pirates dabble in slavery, and you¡¯ll somehow run a crew of the worst scum the galaxy has ever seen.


    Bad Guy


    Or maybe you¡¯re not interested in helping out. Maybe you want to see this bright future crash and burn.


    Race: Augment Human-Betazoid (Hybrid)


    Character Points: 1400, [250 KOTOR (Vicky)]


    Reality Points: 900


    Ship Points: 1400


    Credits: 116,450


    Status Effects: (none)


    Drawbacks:


    Gauntlet (Locked)


    Ensign Marty Stu


    The entire universe has been transformed into bad fanfiction. You''ll have to deal with poor writing, edgy characters, self-inserts, weird fetishes, and even crazy crossovers like Star Trek v Star Wars!


    A Simple Re''Q''uest


    It seems that you¡¯ve gotten the attention of a certain omnipotent trickster - Q. Q is going to test you and your ship, over and over again. This can range from putting you into a recreation of the tales of King Arthur to catapulting you into the next galaxy over, as punishment for your hubris. Q may also interfere and grant you additional Drawbacks.


    Hybrid (Betazoid)


    Your base race has been hybridized with another (Betazoid). In addition to having a hybridized appearance, you will also gain all the negative traits of your second species. Betazoids are a peaceful species with human-like features and powerful telepathic abilities. Betazoids are physically indistinguishable from humans in every aspect except for their solid black irises. They possess natural telepathy and can easily sense the thoughts and emotions of any living thing. Betazoids are members of the Federation and commonly serve as either counselors or negotiators. Betazoid hybrids'' weaknesses are they have weaker telepathic powers compared to full Betazoids.


    Amok Time/Blood Fever


    As a result of your racial hybridization, you now suffer from a chemical imbalance in the brain. Once every three months, this imbalance starts to get out of whack. You will have emotional outbursts followed by extreme desire, and a fever. You will die within a week of this period beginning unless you procreate or at least make a damned good attempt¡­ Or kill a worthy opponent in single combat. And no cheating! Using a holodeck won''t fix the chemical imbalance.


    Outlawed


    Whether you¡¯re a Human Augment, a Vulcan telepath, an Aenar or a Suliban on Planet Gitmo, your very existence is now an offense against your species and/or starting world, and they will be all too happy to arrest or even kill you if they discover who and what you are.


    Mary Sue


    They are ridiculously overpowered and have overwhelming plot armor. Their goals & actions directly oppose yours. What¡¯s more, they know about you and believe that if they ¡°befriend¡± you hard enough you can be redeemed and join their harem.


    Perks:


    Cosmic Awareness


    You have the incredible supernatural ability to perceive alterations in Space-Time. You''ll be able to instantly know when your surroundings have been altered. This ability allows you to perceive changes made by events, objects, people, and creatures.


    Out of Nowhere


    People seem to be far more accepting of what you claim to be. You¡¯re an omnipotent god here to test humanity? Eh, we got five of those last week. Last member of a dying race? We have a protocol for that. This is your springboard into getting into a setting. What comes next depends on you. This perk applies to any Companions that join you as well.


    Going Native


    The universe is full of weird places, people, and cultures. Now when you pass through you won''t stick out like a sore thumb or as much as an outsider. You are able to rapidly learn alien customs, cultures, and ideals and apply them faster than even a child growing up in those places. You¡¯ll also be able to learn alien sciences just as quickly.


    Live and Let Live


    People tend to judge one another by standards of what''s common in their society, and that goes double for anything involving relationships. Yet in your particular case this just doesn''t seem to apply. At worst, people will dislike it and possibly refuse to interact with you, but turning to violence or other means of stopping you just never enters their minds. Somehow, people just don¡¯t judge you any differently, no matter what you look like. You could have a completely different number of arms and legs one day, change your coloration completely the next, maybe gain or lose some gender characteristics, and yet people know it''s you and treat you as if you looked like anyone else.


    This is (Not?) Rocket Science


    For some reason, you just are capable of piloting spaceships as if you learned it growing up. It is hardly different from driving Poppa¡¯s old tractor. Similarly, you will find that fixing a spaceship also is much less complicated than one would have thought and you have a good shot at leaving things less broken than when you started.


    Kinda Bland


    Sure, your species has its fair share of exceptional personalities, but overall? You kind of blend into the background compared to all the exciting aliens, locations, and technical wonders. At any time, so long you aren¡¯t in a place you definitely shouldn''t be, you can now choose to unobtrusively blend into the background, allowing only the most perceptive of people to actively take note of you.


    Determinator


    Through a combination of toughness, endurance, luck, and stubbornness, you tend to succeed more easily in situations few would expect you to.


    Painted On


    Clothing just seems to fit so much better when you wear it. You can decide how tight the fit of your clothing is, as well as reduce the thickness or thinness of the fabric. This doesn¡¯t change the clothing¡¯s other features, like what kind of functions or protection it provides.


    Snakeskin


    Why do you even bother with armor when the other guy has a disintegrator? It¡¯s better just to sidestep the blast, so that¡¯s what you do. The less your clothing is covering you up, the better you dodge and the faster you are. Wearing something as revealing as a space-fabric loincloth or latex bikini will give you enough of a speed and agility boost to rush and overwhelm a handful of opponents with blasters.


    Adaptable


    You are able to easily fill any role or perform in any profession, with a minimum of leading time required to be taught. Up to an average level of proficiency, your learning progress will be greatly accelerated.


    Duelist


    After countless boarding actions, your skill with the laser blade is seldom matched except among the best of Star Knights. Even without space magic, you have a pretty good chance of deflecting energy bolts with your blade or anticipating the next lunge. So fine is your control of the blade, laser or otherwise, that you may shred your opponents¡¯ clothing with ease rather than their flesh, allowing you to rob your opponents of their dignity as well as their riches.


    Master with your Hands


    You are a master with a weapon in your hand. You gain the ability to be unbelievably accurate with any weapon, melee or ranged, that you can use with one hand. And if one weapon doesn¡¯t work, you can smoothly transition to any other one-handed weapon in your possession, and in the act of drawing the new weapon, use it as smoothly as if you always had it out. As a bonus, the faster you make an attack, the more accurate it is, even if you have no time to aim it. Draw, shoot, hit. Lastly, you could even pull off the ol¡¯ dual-wielding trick, with whatever one-handed weapons you have on you. You¡¯re smooth enough that you will never run into any issues with holding two different, or similar weapons in each hand.


    Best of the Best


    They say there¡¯s nothing like a night with a Marine, and who am I to refute that? You¡¯ve got a significant boost to your reflexes, hand-eye coordination, and general athleticism, all of which are visible in the form of well-defined muscles and the chiseled build of a Greek god.


    Everything Is A Weapon


    You understand how to weaponize everything from tractor beams to just having a tough hull so your ship can survive ramming. Any skills you have can be turned to some combat use or emphasis, like using physics to design superweapons, medicine to make bioweapons and the like.


    Augment


    You are a member of your species perfected through genetic engineering. You are roughly five times stronger, more agile and durable than your baseline species, and live twice as long. Your senses are enhanced, you are immune to most diseases and toxins and have much stronger and more efficient hearts and lungs. Most impressively, you are resistant to most energy weapons, taking only moderate wounds from kill shots and multiple or sustained stun-fire to put down. Your blood can be used to synthesize cures for most diseases and in some cases revive the dead, and your intellect is greatly increased, most especially your ability to learn new information and master new skills, which is ten times quicker than it would normally take. Required: Must take Outlawed Drawback.


    Force Specialization: Intelligence


    The path of the Jedi consular and the Sith inquisitors. Your mental abilities are stronger and you have an easier time learning skills and Force powers. Includes a bonus Force Power: Force Heal. This ability lets you rapidly accelerate your, or others body¡¯s natural healing process. It can be used to mend injuries and cure diseases. Force Specialization includes basic training in Lightsabers, Blasters, Telepathy, Telekinesis, Empathy, Force Speed, Farsight, Force Stealth, Force Sight, and Mind Trick.


    Tactical Info


    You gain a basic HUD. In addition to standard functions, it allows you to access your character information and Perks and Drawbacks selections. Note: You cannot make purchases through your HUD while in combat.


    Sever Force


    This power will allow you to cut individuals off from the Force by creating a wall of light side energy around them. The effects of this power may only be temporary at first, but with practice, you will be able to permanently remove an individual''s connection to the Force. Sith receive a weaker version of this power, and only true Jedi can unlock its full potential.


    Items:


    Laser Blade


    A weapon with a metal handle and a blade made of pure energized photons. It¡¯ll cut through most normal materials easily but might struggle with energized armor or force fields. If you had fast enough reflexes or some kind of precognition, you could even deflect other lasers and energy-based weapons.


    Spacesuit


    A skintight space suit. Unequipped, it consists of a helmet and belt; donning these and hitting a button on the belt extends the suit''s ''skin'' over your body in a uniform color of your choice, including silver or clear. The helmet has a very basic set of environmental and biometric sensors and a radio, and the belt houses the power unit, an emergency distress beacon, and some utility pouches. The suit itself is only as tough as regular fabric, though the same technology that produces the skin will patch it up automatically. As long as the suit is operating properly, it can recycle your air and water until the power runs out, and the power cell is good for ten years. Food is not included, however.


    Agony Booth


    A transparent cylinder large enough to stand in and tough enough to keep a person confined. Can stimulate nerves to cause unimaginable pain to any prisoner contained within.


    Cloaking Minefield


    Hundreds of space mines equipped with cloaking devices, perfect for area control. Refills annually.


    Lightsaber


    The signature weapon of Jedi and Sith alike. You gain a single unaugmented blade.


    Gray Goo Suit


    This pile of nanomachines is programmed to bond with a user, envelope their body, and form either clothing or armor around them. The suit can respond to verbal commands, and potentially be upgraded to respond to commands sent other ways. Most importantly, it is programmed to constantly improve its ability to protect and benefit the user. As such, it will develop and learn from situations encountered by the wearer. It can study and imitate materials and technology, do the same to biology, and if shown examples of how something can be done, can also learn and imitate phenomena. However, if an ability or capability requires an external energy source, then the suit can only imitate what it has interacted with, and not the energy source it hasn¡¯t.


    Companions:


    (Vicky) V-KO IV Nursedroid: Artificial Intelligence Upgrade, Gray Goo Upgrade, Master With Your Hands, Light Weapon, Jumper''s Master Key, Scaling Cloak, Force Specialization: Intelligence, Enhanced Mind, Lightsaber, Armored Robes, Battle Meditation


    Personal Reality:


    Here¡¯s your very own Personal Reality. No matter where you go, you¡¯ll always be able to access it (unless blocked by a drawback or gauntlet). Before you do anything with it, it starts as a Warehouse, just a place to stick all your stuff. Anything added to the Warehouse or Personal Reality via CP or Reality Point (RP) purchase is guaranteed to work flawlessly with anything and everything else attached to the Personal Reality. Anything added by the use of Perks is likewise guaranteed to seamlessly integrate. Although you can¡¯t just buy a house with Credits and integrate it into your warehouse, there''s an optional RP purchase to integrate such things.


    Access Key


    This is a special key that lets you access your Personal Reality and its contents. When inserted into any lock or access panel, on any door, the door opens to reveal a gateway into your Reality. You are the only person who can use this key, but additional keys can be purchased for Companions. If the key is ever lost or stolen you will find it in your pocket within a few minutes. You cannot close the door as long as you are inside the Personal Reality.


    Security System


    Anybody coming in and out of your Personal Reality is now checked for any authorization you''ve given them to access it; and should anything about said authorization raise any flags in the system, then you will receive a warning about it. This allows you to define just what sorts of authorization different individuals can have to access your Personal Reality, anything from No Access through Temporary Access and Limited Access to Unlimited Access is possible. All this does is notify you. It does not stop them on its own. A Keyholder¡¯s Access cannot be limited by the Security System. Only purchase Access Keys for those you trust implicitly.


    High-Security Inter-Reality Connecting Door (Star Trek Enterprise)


    These doors come in pairs and can connect your Personal Reality and another reality. You may choose to move this door, causing it to appear as a tarot-sized playing card and if placed on a wall it turns into a door. Using the Access Key on one of these doors allows you to turn it back into a card. You must be physically at the location you desire to install it and once installed the Door cannot be removed by anyone or anything lacking an Access Key. If you connect an external reality to your Personal Reality through a pair of these doors, that reality is not frozen in time but rather progresses on your Reality''s internal clock, even after you leave it, even if the door is currently closed. High Security upgrade allows these doors to be locked and can be force field protected.


    Medical Bay


    This can treat all medical or dental issues on anyone who still has a pulse or equivalent. Provides detailed accounting of a person¡¯s medical history. Will not repair genetic defects or replace/repair cybernetics and cannot differentiate between beneficial and harmful nanites or implants on its own. Works on animals as well. Treatments take anywhere from one hour to a solid week depending on the degree of damage.


    High-Security Inter-Reality Connecting Door (Star Wars Knights of the Old Republic)


    These doors come in pairs and can connect your Personal Reality and another reality. You may choose to move this door, causing it to appear as a tarot-sized playing card and if placed on a wall it turns into a door. Using the Access Key on one of these doors allows you to turn it back into a card. You must be physically at the location you desire to install it and once installed the Door cannot be removed by anyone or anything lacking an Access Key. If you connect an external reality to your Personal Reality through a pair of these doors, that reality is not frozen in time but rather progresses on your Reality''s internal clock, even after you leave it, even if the door is currently closed. High Security upgrade allows these doors to be locked and can be force field protected.


    Key Link


    With this, you can now close the door while you are in the Personal Reality and use your key in a special podium in the entryway to link your Personal Reality Door to any door in your current Host Reality that you¡¯ve previously used your Access Key on.


    Housing Complex


    With this option, you gain enough housing for every sapient you have in your retinue. Each adult or juvenile among those beings you allow to live permanently (or semi-permanently) in your Personal Reality gets their own personal bedroom. Personal rooms can be merged if all the occupants so desire. Each personal room defaults to 5 meters by 4 meters by 3 meters. The standard unit of this Complex is the ¡°Apartment¡±. By default, each ¡°Apartment¡± contains four ¡°bedrooms¡± when created, a kitchen & dining room, two full bathrooms with combination shower/bathtubs, two general-purpose shared rooms (offices, living rooms, game rooms), a few small closets, and a pantry. This housing is not luxurious by any means, but the individual rooms tailor themselves to the general likes of their owner and come with basic but not quality furniture. Non-bedrooms are on the small side but large enough to function. Floors are basic linoleum and walls are basic low-grade paint. Appliances and fixtures are pretty bare bones and the walls are little more than plywood and wood frame. The bedrooms don¡¯t have closets.


    Basic Nutrition


    This option provides a basic, if minimalist, food delivery for you and all your followers. This delivery comes once a week and is the kind of thing you¡¯d buy on a very strict budget; Ramen, Peanut Butter, Generic Cereal, Dry Beans, Eggs, Tofu, Fresh Common Fruits & Veggies, Canned Fruits & Veggies, Dry Pasta, Salt, Pepper, Milk, Bottled Water, Rice, Flour, Butter, Barley, etc. Essentially 50 dollars purchasing power a week per person.


    Choice Apartments


    Purchase of this upgrades all your Basic Housing Units in several minor ways. First off, two bedrooms can now be merged into a Master Bedroom, which has its own walk-in closet and attached bathroom. Second, the floors are now either carpeted or wood-paneled, walls are wallpapered, all rooms are 50% larger, the cut-off for additional kitchens is lowered to every five people and the furniture is decent. Kitchen Appliances, bathroom fixtures, closet doors... everything is improved a bit. The walls are now drywall and metal frame with insulation. Not soundproof, but better than nothing. Closets are now adequate and installed in each bedroom.


    Who''s Got the Powa


    This provides enough electricity to power a city the size of New York City or London, forever, with nary a brownout or power fluctuation ever. It also comes with all the basic wiring hookups, surge protectors, outlets, circuit-breakers, routers, etc you might need... but you¡¯ll probably want to get a qualified electrician in at some point... or pick up a companion who does that kind of thing. Purchase of this supplies all facilities inside your Personal Reality with electrical hookups.


    Pipes Pipes Pipes


    Purchasing this provides your Warehouse with enough plumbing fixtures to turn the entire volume of your Personal Reality into one massive pool... or anything below that. This provides clean running water with any reasonably common additives you like (chlorine, glacial milk, fluoride), but does not provide a limitless supply, nor does it heat the water. By default, the amount of water this system can produce per day is 1 billion liters or one megaton of water or a block of water 100 meters on a side, and the default temperature of this water is 25 degrees Celsius. It can support any civilian infrastructure on the same scale as Mexico City or Tokyo. Comes only with the basic hookups. Purchasing this supplies all facilities inside your Personal Reality with water feeds, and if you have Who''s Got the Powa, it will supply hot and cold running water as well. These pipes include sewage and storm drain systems, vanishing waste as effectively as they create water. Anything that is not biological waste, loose grime, or liquid waste will be shunted into a special processing venue where you¡¯ll have to dispose of it. This venue will be somewhere discreet in your reality behind a door labeled ¡°Authorized Pipes Personnel Only¡±. The stuff will be cleaned of biological contaminants for you. The entire Pipe system is self-cleaning and self-maintaining, guaranteed free of vermin and bad odors.


    Spaceships:


    Tramp Freighter (Destroyed - Respawn on 02/28/2365)


    Sometimes used as a light troop carrier, the Tramp Freighter is a cozy starship for the Do-It-Yourself crowd. Favored by smugglers and honest traders alike, it¡¯s got lots of nooks and crannies throughout the ship. The cargo bays can be converted to bunks in troop carrier configuration allowing it to hold 40 passengers. Comes equipped with standard life support, sub-light engines, an FTL drive, sensors, shields, and at least one defensive weapon like a laser cannon or a missile pod. Unless noted, the ship comfortably holds a dozen crew/passengers.


    Sith Interceptor: Bridge Upgrade


    A small nimble starfighter used as the standard attack craft in the Sith fleet. It seats a single pilot, is armed with twin laser cannons as well as proton torpedoes, and is powered by a twin ion drive.


    Bridge


    A central control room where all the important decisions are made. You may choose the bridge''s location on the ship. Comes with a big screen to display the tactical data or a direct view into space.


    Vicky


    V-KO IV Nursedroid


    This is a high-end Nursedroid and can do some things that are from other robot lines. It has a dedicated database of species and illnesses, which updates for each setting and it can also collect data on encountered pathogens, flora, and fauna, including sapient races, for future study. All of the V-Ko line has internal miniaturized manufacturing for drugs. Your model has an unlocked database, allowing it to produce any drug you need, and can analyze drugs or liquids by consuming them orally for further production.*


    Artificial Intelligence Upgrade


    AIs are relatively commonplace here. But this one is special, it has been upgraded to be a full-on individual. Its personality can develop in many different ways, some of which aren¡¯t under the control of its programming. Unlike normal AIs, this one is not restricted to a single core or network, and can easily move around freely from network to network, platform to platform. It can interface with and control any and every network it can connect to. It is imaginative and adaptable, equally adept at creating and running a robot factory as controlling a spaceship or robot body. It even has the rare AI ability to create limited VI clones of itself to extend its reach and control. This individual is happy to join you on your journey, and as long as you treat them well (or at least decently), they will never wish to leave your side. If you already have an AI buddy, you may import them into this option for free.


    Gray Goo Upgrade


    This pile of nanomachines is programmed to bond with a user, envelope their body, and form either clothing or armor around them. The suit can respond to verbal commands, and potentially be upgraded to respond to commands sent other ways. Most importantly, it is programmed to constantly improve its ability to protect and benefit the user. As such, it will develop and learn from situations encountered by the wearer. It can study and imitate materials and technology, do the same to biology, and if shown examples of how something can be done, can also learn and imitate phenomena. However, if an ability or capability requires an external energy source, then the suit can only imitate what it has interacted with, and not the energy source it hasn¡¯t.


    Master With Your Hands


    You are a master with a weapon in your hand. You gain the ability to be unbelievably accurate with any weapon, melee or ranged, that you can use with one hand. And if one weapon doesn¡¯t work, you can smoothly transition to any other one-handed weapon in your possession, and in the act of drawing the new weapon, use it as smoothly as if you always had it out. As a bonus, the faster you make an attack, the more accurate it is, even if you have no time to aim it. Draw, shoot, hit. Lastly, you could even pull off the ol¡¯ dual-wielding trick, with whatever one-handed weapons you have on you. You¡¯re smooth enough that you will never run into any issues with holding two different, or similar weapons in each hand.


    Light Weapon


    When you can¡¯t trust anyone around you, trust the weapon at your side. Pick any one-handed weapon in the setting like pistols, knives, etc. It will always be functional, will constantly regenerate any expended ammo, and will always return to you if you lose it.


    Jumper''s Master Key


    People like to think that things like locks and automated security will protect their stuff. You know better. You¡¯ve got a lovely bit of nanotech that can take the form of lockpicks, or become an electronic interface for hacking, or whatever form necessary. If there¡¯s a way for someone to legitimately get past security, then there¡¯s a way for you to fake your way past it, and this tool will help you do it. Though, if you are trying to copy a unique qualifier/trait of a specific user such as psionic signature or other energy types, then this item would take a form where it could duplicate that trait, but you¡¯d still need to get to the user so you can actually scan it.


    Scaling Cloak


    You¡¯ve got a unique piece of gear that is worth a ship¡¯s weight in Platinum 190. This device is about the size of a baseball, and by itself, creates a field that optically hides you. But when it¡¯s paired with a shield generator, it emits a perfect invisibility shield. It covers everything, from sound, temperature, scents, radiation, etc. What makes this device so capable though is that it also works on other much larger shield generators, like the ones on ships, or even stations. Plug it in, and watch a ship become undetectable. Even better, while this requires a shield to work, it doesn¡¯t interfere with the shield, so you still have protection. Handy, considering you could walk into something, or a ship flying into a micrometeorite. If this device is ever lost or destroyed or otherwise rendered unusable, you¡¯ll find another copy in your Warehouse.


    Force Specialization: Intelligence


    The path of the Jedi consular and the Sith inquisitors. Your mental abilities are stronger and you have an easier time learning skills and Force powers. Includes a bonus Force Power: Force Heal. This ability lets you rapidly accelerate your, or others body¡¯s natural healing process. It can be used to mend injuries and cure diseases. Force Specialization includes basic training in Lightsabers, Blasters, Telepathy, Telekinesis, Empathy, Force Speed, Farsight, Force Stealth, Force Sight, and Mind Trick.


    Enhanced Mind


    You possess a perfect photographic memory and instant mental recall. Learning new skills should be easier with such a boost to your intellect. You¡¯ve also gained a small bit of wisdom into the ways of the Force, this will allow you to exert your powers a bit more before exhausting yourself and resist other Force users slightly better.


    Lightsaber


    The signature weapon of Jedi and Sith alike. You gain a single unaugmented blade.


    Armored Robes


    A Jedi robe with cortosis plates woven in. It can protect against blaster fire, and deflect lightsaber attacks.


    Battle Meditation


    A Force power that allows the user to boost the morale, stamina, and overall battle prowess of their allies while simultaneously reducing their opposition¡¯s combat effectiveness by destroying their will to fight. At its basic level, it can only affect small groups of people, but at its most powerful it can affect an entire fleet.

 Season 2: Episode 10 - Vulcans

    Episode 10 - Vulcans


    Stardate: 41176.2


    Earth Standard Date: March 05, 2364.


    Location: USS Enterprise-D, Interstellar Space, Alpha Quadrant


    Tyson stepped out of the senior staff meeting. The bridge of the USS Enterprise-D felt alien to him, despite the familiar faces of the officers he''d known from the show and met when he first arrived in this world. The past hour had been a whirlwind of probing questions as he recounted his extraordinary journey. Tyson had done his best to describe the bizarre series of events that had unfolded after he''d been unexpectedly teleported off the Enterprise''s bridge. He''d painted a vivid picture of the Orion Tramp Freighter being pulled through the anomaly, and his brief moment of consciousness on its bridge before waking up in an entirely different galaxy.


    As he made his way down the corridor, Tyson''s mind wandered back to the expressions on the faces of the senior staff. Commander Riker had leaned forward, his brow furrowed in concentration, while Counselor Troi''s empathic gaze had never left Tyson''s face. Data, ever the curious android, had peppered him with questions.


    Tyson recalled describing the city planet Taris. "Imagine a world entirely covered in Towering skyscrapers that stretch as far as the eye can see, with levels upon levels of urban sprawl beneath them. Think of it as a less polished version of Earth''s major cities, but covering an entire planet."


    The concept of Jedi had been particularly difficult to convey. "They''re like... space wizards," Tyson had explained, cringing inwardly at the oversimplification. "They can manipulate this energy field called the Force. It allows them feats like Betazed empathy along with a host of other psionic and physical abilities." He remembered the raised eyebrow of Captain Picard at that description. The captain had leaned back in his chair, fingers steepled, as Tyson went on to describe the Sith. "They''re the dark counterpart to the Jedi," he''d said. "They use the Force for power, for domination. It''s like they tap into the darkest parts of themselves and channel it."


    As Tyson approached the turbolift, he couldn''t help but chuckle at the memory of describing his various misadventures. It all seemed so fantastical now, standing back in the corridors of the Enterprise.


    The turbolift doors opened with a soft whoosh, and Tyson stepped inside. "Deck 8," he requested. As the lift began to move, he leaned against the wall, closing his eyes for a moment.


    The final part of his explanation concerned his encounter with Q and subsequent return to the Enterprise. Tyson had watched as the senior staff exchanged knowing glances at the mention of the omnipotent being. The turbolift came to a stop, and Tyson opened his eyes as the doors slid open. He stepped out onto Deck 8, making his way toward his assigned quarters.


    He mumbled a thanks to Q. The trickster''s dramatic exit after their discussion had eased Tyson''s reintroduction to the Enterprise-D. The crew dismissed his disappearance and return as nothing more than the whims of Q.


    As he walked, Tyson''s mind drifted back to the captain''s final words in the meeting. Picard''s cultured voice echoed in his memory. "Well, it sounds like you had quite the adventure, Mr. Tyson. I must say, I''m rather surprised that Q chose to bring you back here instead of to your own time. Nevertheless, we welcome you back to the Enterprise, and I assure you that our offer of asylum still stands."


    Tyson had nodded gratefully at the confirmation that he still had a place on the ship. "Thank you, Captain," he''d replied, "I appreciate your hospitality more than I can express."


    The door to his quarters slid open as he approached, revealing the same space he''d left behind what felt like a lifetime ago but in actuality was closer to a week. Tyson stepped inside, his eyes roaming over the sparse but comfortable furnishings.


    He moved to the viewport, gazing out at the stars streaking by at warp speed. The sight, once so awe-inspiring, now seemed almost quaint.


    A chime at the door broke him from his reverie. "Come in," Tyson called, turning from the viewport.


    The door slid open to reveal Counselor Troi, her empathic dark eyes filled with concern. "I hope I''m not intruding," she said, her voice gentle. "I thought you might appreciate a friendly face after such an intense debriefing."


    Tyson managed a small smile. "Not at all, Counselor. Please, come in."


    Troi stepped into the room, her gaze sweeping over Tyson''s face. "How are you feeling?" she asked, moving to sit in one of the chairs by the small table.


    Tyson sank into the chair opposite her, running a hand through his hair. "Honestly? I''m not sure. It''s all so... surreal. Part of me still can''t believe I''m back here."


    Troi nodded, her expression understanding. "It''s perfectly normal to feel disoriented after such an experience. You''ve been through an extraordinary journey, Tyson. It will take time to process everything you''ve seen and done."


    "I know," Tyson sighed. "It''s just... I was starting to build a life there, you know? I had friends and allies. I was learning to use the Force. And now..."


    "And now you''re back here, feeling as though you don''t quite fit anymore," Troi finished for him.


    Tyson nodded, grateful for her insight. "Exactly. Don''t get me wrong, I''m incredibly grateful to be back on the Enterprise. It''s just..."


    "It''s not home," Troi said softly.


    "No," Tyson admitted.


    Troi leaned forward, her dark eyes capturing Tyson''s gaze. "Change is never easy, especially when it''s thrust upon us so suddenly. But you''ve shown remarkable resilience, Tyson. You adapted to an entirely new universe, and you''ll adapt to this transition as well. Keep in mind that there are many crew on the Enterprise feeling the same way. The ship is reasonably new and the crew is still getting familiar with each other."


    Tyson appreciated her words. "Thank you, Counselor."


    Troi smiled warmly. "You''re welcome. Now, why don''t you tell me more about these Jedi? I''m particularly interested in their empathic abilities."


    She leaned forward, her dark eyes sparkling with curiosity as Tyson began to explain. "The Force," he said, his voice taking on a reverent tone, "It''s a connection to everything around you, living and non-living. In a way, it''s like empathy, but on a cosmic scale."


    "Fascinating," Troi murmured. "Since you''re half-betazoid like me, can you explain how this interacts with your inherent empathy?"


    Tyson paused, considering his response. "It was... complementary, in a way. My empathic abilities as a half-Betazoid gave me a foundation, a sort of... baseline sensitivity to others'' emotions. The Force amplified that, but also expanded it."


    He stood up and began to pace, his hands moving animatedly as he spoke. "I imagine your empathic abilities, are better than mine, Counselor. Since you''ve lived with them your whole life. For me, using the force is like being able to sense not just emotions, but intentions, and the very life force of beings around you. It was overwhelming at first."


    He closed his eyes for a moment. "When I unlocked the ability to use the Force, I was granted a baseline knowledge."


    "That sounds incredibly helpful," Troi observed.


    Tyson nodded, opening his eyes. "It was. It''s hard to describe how deep and... beautiful everything became. Imagine feeling the pulse of life all around you. And then, as your awareness expands, feeling the connections between all those life forms."


    She smiled warmly. "You''ve been through an extraordinary experience, and you''re still adjusting. The key will be learning to integrate these new abilities into your life in a way that feels comfortable."


    "You''re right," he said, "But enough about me. What''s been going on here? I feel like I''ve been gone for ages."


    Troi''s lips curved into a gentle smile. She adjusted her posture, settling more comfortably into her seat before responding.


    "In truth, not much has transpired since your disappearance," she began, her tone measured and calm. "We maintained our position for a day after you vanished, hoping the anomaly might reappear. The bridge crew ran continuous scans, and Data worked tirelessly to analyze the sensor logs from the incident."


    The thought of the Enterprise waiting for him, scanning empty space, for signs of the Q-caused anomaly made him smile. "And then?" he prompted.


    Troi continued, "When it became clear that the anomaly showed no signs of reemerging, Captain Picard made the difficult decision to depart the system. We''ve been traveling at Warp 7."


    "Where are we headed?" he asked.


    "We''re en route to rendezvous with a science vessel," she explained. "They''ve been studying a collapsing red supergiant star. It''s a rare opportunity to observe such an event up close."


    Tyson hummed in thought. "A collapsing supergiant? How long until we reach them?"


    "It will be almost two weeks before we arrive," Troi replied. She stood, moving to join Tyson at the viewport. "We had just left Farpoint Station when you first arrived on the Enterprise. Farpoint is, excuse the term, far from the core of the Federation. We have an itinerary of tasks and missions that we must attend to, while gradually making our way back."


    Tyson nodded, his gaze returning to the stars. Two weeks. It seemed like an eternity. "I suppose that gives me some time to... readjust," he murmured, more to himself than to Troi.


    The counselor placed a gentle hand on his shoulder, her touch conveying understanding and support. "Indeed it does," she agreed. "And we''ll all be here to help you through that process, Tyson."


    ¡ª Star Jumper ¡ª


    Tyson led Counselor Troi to the door of his quarters. "Thank you for checking on me, Counselor," he said, his voice warm with sincerity. "And for spending this time with me."


    "It''s my pleasure, Tyson. Remember, my door is always open if you need to talk further."


    As the counselor''s footsteps faded down the corridor, Tyson reentered his quarters. He held up his Access Key to the door. The familiar swoosh of the Enterprise''s doors filled his ears, but the sight that greeted him was far from the starship corridor. Instead of the grey of the Enterprise-D''s hallway, an antechamber opened up before him. This was the entrance to his Personal Reality, a pocket dimension that he had control over. Tyson stepped inside, the door closing behind him with a soft hiss.


    Doors lined the right wall of the antechamber, each one was an Inter-Reality Connecting Door, a portal to a different time or universe. One led directly to T''Pol''s quarters aboard the NX-01 Enterprise. The other was connected to Vicky''s personal quarters aboard the Leviathan in the Star Wars: Knights of the Old Republic universe.


    But as fascinating as these portals were, they weren''t Tyson''s primary concern. His mind was focused on a more pressing matter; the 147 Vulcans currently residing in the Medical Bay of his Personal Reality. The memory of their rescue from the Seleya, a Vulcan D''Kyr class cruiser stranded in a Trellium-D asteroid field, was still fresh in his mind. He had saved them, along with T''Pol, from certain doom. But now they would be waking up in a reality far removed from their own.


    "Ivy, are you with me?" Tyson asked, his voice echoing slightly in the empty antechamber.


    There was a moment of silence, then a familiar presence made itself known. Within Tyson''s HUD, a virtual display in his field of view, gained when he entered the Star Wars: Knights of the Old Republic universe, an avatar of his Companion Vicky manifested. This virtual intelligence did not have direct communication with Vicky, in the way of a hivemind, she was more like a personal copy stored within his armor. Tyson had named her Ivy so that he could mentally separate her from the true Vicky.


    Ivy appeared as a holographic projection, visible only to him.


    "Of course, I''m here," Ivy replied, her voice a mix of amusement and affection. "Do you need something?"


    Tyson couldn''t help but smile at her familiar tone. "No, I just wanted to make sure you were there. Haven''t heard from you in a while."


    Ivy''s avatar rolled her eyes. "Miss me that much, did you?" she teased.


    "Of course," Tyson responded without hesitation. As if in response to his words, he felt his Gray Goo Suit constrict gently around him, simulating a comforting hug.


    "I''m always here," Ivy assured him, her voice softening.


    Tyson nodded, grateful for her constant presence. Vicky had started as a V-KO IV Nursedroid, a curious hybrid of nurse android and sexbot. But through spending his Character Points, Tyson had upgraded her into something far more complex. She had become his trusted Companion and irreplaceable ally.


    With Ivy''s reassuring presence, Tyson approached the door leading to T''Pol''s quarters on the NX-01 Enterprise. If anyone could help him navigate the delicate situation with the rescued Vulcans, it would be her. As he neared the door, Tyson felt his Gray Goo Suit shift and reform, taking on the appearance of a Starfleet uniform from that era. Though he felt subtle differences; Ivy hadn''t skimped on his defenses, there were thin cortosis and beskar plates woven into the uniform.


    "Thanks," he mumbled to Ivy, knowing she was responsible for the quick change.


    Tyson placed his hand on the door. No sensation revealed he was crossing between universes, to him, it felt no different than stepping between rooms.


    T''Pol''s quarters were sparse by human standards, but each item was carefully chosen and placed. The air was slightly warmer and drier than the Enterprise-D. The soft glow of meditation candles cast dancing shadows on the walls, filling the air with a faint, spicy aroma.


    T''Pol herself was seated on a meditation cushion, her eyes closed in deep concentration. Her short-cropped hair, bangs, and pointed ears were quintessentially Vulcan.


    As Tyson''s presence registered, T''Pol''s eyes opened. She rose gracefully to her feet, one eyebrow quirking upward in a characteristically Vulcan expression of curiosity.


    "Tyson," she greeted him, "I''ve been anticipating your arrival. Has there been a development with our... guests?"


    "Greetings, T''Pol. It is agreeable to see you again," he continued, trying to word his greeting in a way that would transmit his appreciation in a Vulcan manner. "The crew of the Seleya is due to awaken today. And I imagine they''re going to have a lot of questions."


    "Indeed," she said, moving to her desk. She activated a computer terminal, fingers flying over the controls. "We must prepare a comprehensive briefing. Their last memories will be of the Seleya, suffering from the effects of Trellium-D poisoning. The transition to their current situation will be... jarring."


    Tyson moved to join her, grateful for her calm efficiency. "That''s putting it mildly," he agreed. "We''re not just talking about a change in location. We''re dealing with a fundamental shift in reality. I''ve been working under the assumption that Enterprise can''t handle that many additional crew members, and so I''ve made additions to my Personal Reality. It will be able to accommodate them. The dilemma is, how do we even begin to explain that? "


    Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.


    T''Pol''s lips tightened slightly, the only outward sign of her concern. "A valid point. We will need to approach this methodically. Perhaps we should wake them in small groups."


    As they continued to plan, Tyson felt gratitude for T''Pol''s presence. Her logical approach was exactly what he needed. Together, they began to outline a strategy for integrating the Vulcan survivors into their new reality. They worked, refining their approach and anticipating potential questions and concerns.


    Ivy''s avatar flickered into view once more, visible only to Tyson. "Don''t forget, you have more resources at your disposal. You have 900 Reality Points in reserve," she reminded him gently.


    Tyson nodded, grateful for the reminder. If they lacked any necessary facilities, Tyson could spend his Reality Points to continue upgrading his Personal Reality. He considered the additions he''d already made. The Medical Bay was able to heal virtually any ailment short of death. The Housing Complex and Choice Apartments stood ready to provide comfortable living quarters. Basic Nutrition and water and power systems ensured all basic needs could be met. These purchases had been made with the Vulcans in mind, but Tyson realized they also transformed his Personal Reality into a truly livable space, valuable regardless of where his adventures might take him.


    ¡ª Star Jumper ¡ª


    Tyson frowned as he reviewed the Personal Reality upgrades. He discovered a potential way to return the Vulcans to their homeworld. But it wasn''t something he''d brought up yet. The plan would require T''Pol''s participation and a significant investment of Reality Points on his part. While it was an upgrade he planned on purchasing eventually, it wasn''t something he needed immediately.


    "There may be a way," Tyson said slowly, "But it''s something we should discuss."


    Tyson leaned against the wall, running a hand through his hair. "T''Pol, I''ve found a potential solution, but it''s... complicated."


    T''Pol raised an eyebrow, a gesture that somehow managed to convey both curiosity and skepticism. "Elaborate."


    Tyson took a deep breath. "There''s an upgrade available for the Personal Reality. It would allow us to create a portal directly to Vulcan. But it comes with some caveats."


    "What sort of caveats?" T''Pol asked, her tone neutral.


    "First, it would require a significant investment of Reality Points. Points that could be used for other upgrades," Tyson explained. "More importantly, it would require your participation."


    T''Pol''s other eyebrow joined the first. "In what capacity?"


    "The portal can only be opened to a place you''ve previously visited. I''ve never been to Vulcan, but you have."


    T''Pol was silent for a long moment, her dark eyes searching Tyson''s face. "And what would this entail for me?"


    "We previously discussed you becoming my Companion," Tyson said, "For this portal to work, you would have to accept that offer. Afterward, I could purchase access for you, and you''d gain the ability to open the portals as well."


    He paused, his expression turning serious. "However, let me make this absolutely clear. You cannot be coerced into making this decision. I''m not attempting to bribe you in any way. I''m not arbitrarily requiring you to become my Companion before giving you access. These are the rules and limitations of the system I''m beholden to." Tyson''s eyes met T''Pol''s, unflinching. "If you don''t want to become my Companion at this time, I understand completely. We can house the Vulcans here until finding another way to get them home. You can only accept to be my Companion of your own free will. But know that I would welcome you by my side, should you wish it."


    T''Pol fell silent. The moment stretched, feeling like minutes as he waited for her response. Finally, she spoke, her voice thoughtful.


    "You have proven yourself trustworthy by rescuing and healing the Vulcans," T''Pol said, a note of respect in her tone. "May I ask a question?"


    Tyson nodded, relief washing over him at her words. "Of course. What would you like to know?"


    "If I were to accept, would I still be able to remain with Enterprise?" T''Pol asked, her gaze steady.


    "Yes," Tyson replied without hesitation. "As we discussed previously, your duties and life aboard Enterprise wouldn''t have to change. Unless you wanted them to."


    T''Pol nodded, seeming satisfied with his answer. "I have a personal question, if I may." Tyson gestured for her to continue. "When last we spoke, you were suffering from Pon Farr," T''Pol said, her voice lowered slightly. "It is a personal matter, so I understand if you do not wish to speak of it. But I''m curious, now, you seem to be beyond those symptoms."


    "I apologize for not returning to you to explain that my symptoms had resolved," he said softly. "Please know that I did not spurn your offer to assist me. I was flattered, truly."


    "It was a logical offer," T''Pol interrupted, her tone matter-of-fact.


    "Logical perhaps," Tyson agreed, "yet also offered to repay a debt of saving you. While you did not say it as such, it was implied. I don''t know much about Vulcan mating practices, but I prefer to enjoy intimacy when it is freely offered and enjoyed by both parties without condition. I admit that your offer was tempting. I respect you and freely say that I find you attractive. But should we engage in that way, I would want it to be out of a mutual want and not as a perceived repayment for your life."


    "I found myself in a fight with life or death circumstances. An enemy had me cornered on a vessel that was under attack, boarded, and evacuated. I could not escape without fighting him. I killed him. It... sated the Blood Fever." Tyson''s expression turned troubled. "However, I''ve since learned that I will be afflicted with Pon Farr again every three months. It''s not something that can be avoided or treated by the Medical Bay."


    T''Pol''s eyebrow arched slightly, concern flitting across her features. "That is troubling," she said, her voice soft.


    Silence fell between them once more as T''Pol seemed to contemplate this new information. Tyson waited, his heart pounding in his chest. He knew he was asking a lot of her, offering a role that would irrevocably change their life.


    Finally, T''Pol''s gaze met his. "I will join you as your Companion," she said, her voice firm and clear.


    Tyson''s eyes widened in surprise. "Are you certain?" he asked, unable to keep the note of hope from his voice. "This is a big decision, T''Pol. I don''t want you to feel pressured in any way."


    T''Pol''s expression softened almost imperceptibly. "I am certain, Tyson. Your actions have demonstrated your character. Additionally..." she paused, a flicker of something like uncertainty passing through her eyes, "I find the prospect of exploring other realities to be... fascinating."


    Tyson couldn''t help the smile that spread across his face. "Thank you, T''Pol. I promise to do everything in my power to ensure you don''t regret this decision."


    [50 RP] Additional ACCESS KEYs (Personal Reality)


    This gives you four additional keys to your Personal Reality. These keys attune to whomever you give them to and cannot be used by anyone other than them, or someone they freely and without duress or coercion of any kind allow, to use the key. If they lose the key, it will return to them if they are still alive, or to you if they are currently dead. If they die in possession of the key, their body will be transported to your Medical Bay, if you have one.


    [300 RP] PLAYING WITH PORTALS (Personal Reality)


    Allows you to open a rectangular or circular portal that leads into your Personal Reality on any flat surface big enough to encompass the portal. You can open the portal on any surface you are in contact with or that your vehicle is in contact with... or that your vehicle will be in contact within less than 5 seconds and within 100 meters if you don¡¯t open the portal. The portal can be any size between 1 square meter and 80 square meters. The portal opens to the same place in your Personal Reality as the Door does and you may still use your Access Key if you want to open a door larger or smaller than the limits of the Portal. Any Companion with a copy of the key may also open such a portal. These portals open at their lowest size instantly and expand to their maximum size over 10 seconds. These portals cannot be closed while you are inside your Personal Reality. Portals will slowly close over a period of 3 minutes if you leave them open and move more than 10 meters from one without closing it yourself, as long as you are outside your Personal Reality. This closure effect can be disabled, but you can¡¯t open a portal if another is open.


    [300 RP] Portal Link (Personal Reality)


    Allows you to open a portal from inside your Personal Reality leading to anywhere in the current Host Reality that you¡¯ve already been to. With this upgrade, you can now close the Personal Reality Door or Portal while inside your Reality and may open up to two portals at a time.


    Reality Points: 250


    Tyson watched the Reality Points drain away. It was a staggering investment, and for a moment, he fought the urge to cringe. But as the initial shock faded, he reminded himself of the broader implications of this purchase. This wasn''t just for the Vulcans; it was an investment in his future.


    The ability to return to any place he''d already visited was invaluable. No longer would he need to use his Access Key on every door. More than that, he could open portals. He''d effectively granted himself a superpower. True, he was still limited to flat surfaces he could touch, but even that limitation could be overcome, should he choose to invest further.


    Tyson handed T''Pol an Access Key. The other three he''d purchased slid seamlessly into his Gray Goo Suit for storage. One would go to Vicky, and the others... well, Tyson would see how the future went.


    T''Pol accepted the Key with a nod, her eyes closing in concentration. Tyson watched, fascinated, as her eyes moved rapidly behind her lids. When she opened them again, there was a new depth of understanding in her gaze.


    "I understand," she said, her voice steady but tinged with awe. "I have gained the ability to open portals. I see how significant of an investment this was for you, and I appreciate what you''ve done to help my former crew."


    Tyson inclined his head. "Shall we wake the Vulcans?" he asked, squaring his shoulders.


    T''Pol nodded, her usual composure returning. "Yes, let''s."


    Together, they made their way through the antechamber. The Medical Bay doors slid open with a soft hiss, revealing rows of bio-beds. Each one held a Vulcan survivor, their features serene in artificial-induced sleep. The quiet beeping of medical monitors provided a steady backdrop to the scene.


    T''Pol moved to a control panel, her fingers dancing over the interface. "I suggest we begin by waking only the Vulcan captain," she said, "His name is Voris. As I served aboard the Seleya previously, for a year as a deputy science officer, we are acquainted. His leadership and our prior relationship may prove beneficial in this delicate situation."


    Tyson nodded, trusting T''Pol''s judgment. "Agreed. How well do you know him?"


    "Captain Voris is a capable leader. He values logic highly, even by Vulcan standards, but he is not inflexible in his thinking. These qualities may serve well in adapting to our... unique circumstances."


    As T''Pol spoke, she entered a series of commands into the console. One of the bio-beds began to emit a soft, pulsing light. Tyson moved closer, watching as the Vulcan captain''s eyelids began to flutter.


    As consciousness returned, Voris tensed slightly. His eyes snapped open, alert. He sat up, his gaze sweeping the room before settling on T''Pol and Tyson. To his credit, he betrayed no surprise at finding himself in unfamiliar surroundings.


    "T''Pol?" Voris asked, his voice rough from disuse but otherwise steady. "Your presence is... unexpected. I trust you have an explanation for our current situation?"


    "Indeed, Captain. The situation is complex and may challenge your understanding of reality as we know it. Are you prepared to receive this information?"


    Voris raised an eyebrow, a gesture so quintessentially Vulcan that Tyson had to suppress a smile. "Clarity would be appreciated. My last memory is of the Seleya... we were experiencing severe difficulties."


    T''Pol nodded, her expression grave. "The Seleya was lost, Captain. You and your crew were exposed to Trellium-D, and it was discovered the substance is highly toxic to Vulcan neural pathways. You have been in stasis, undergoing treatment for this exposure."


    Voris absorbed this information, his face a mask of Vulcan control. Only a slight tightening of his jaw betrayed any emotional response. "I see. We were in the process of lining areas of the ship with Trellium-D." He paused before asking, "And our current location?"


    It was at this point that Tyson stepped forward, feeling it was time to introduce himself. "Captain Voris, my name is Tyson. The explanation for where you are and how you got here is... well, it''s going to sound farfetched. But I assure you, every word is true."


    "Proceed," he said simply.


    "You''re currently in the Medical Bay of my facility," Tyson said, his voice steady despite the surreal nature of his words. "This isn''t just any medical bay. It can heal nearly any injury, given enough time. The severe neural degradation you and your crew sustained required several days of recovery."


    Voris''s eyebrow arched slightly, the only outward sign of his surprise. "Fascinating." A flicker of concern passed over Voris''s stoic features. "What of the Seleya? Can we return to our ship?"


    T''Pol answered, "I''m afraid not, Captain. As I said previously, The Seleya was lost. It sustained heavy damage within the asteroid field, with a majority of its systems offline. Additionally, the Trellium-D remains within the ship and the asteroid field. Retrieving it is... improbable."


    Voris absorbed this information, his face a mask of control. After a moment, he asked, "What is the timeline to return us to Vulcan?"


    "We have found a way to return you and the crew directly to Vulcan," T''Pol answered.


    Voris''s eyebrow arched slightly, the only outward sign of his surprise. "Explain," he said simply.


    T''Pol placed her hand on the wall next to the Medical Bay door. The air shimmered and warped, a portal slowly materializing. Beyond it, an auditorium-like room came into view, its architecture distinctly Vulcan.


    "The High Command?" Voris asked with a note of recognition in his voice.


    T''Pol nodded. "Indeed. To simplify the explanation, this facility can utilize a method similar to transporters but instead creates worm-hole-like passages through space. This is a method offered by Mr. Tyson at great cost to himself and unavailable to humans, but I assure you it is safe to use. Please send everyone through."


    To his credit, Voris did not press further. Tyson began waking the remaining Vulcans. Voris took charge, his calm voice explaining the situation to each newly awakened crew member before directing them through the portal.


    As the last of the Vulcans passed through, Tyson stepped through the portal, taking in the vast auditorium, its high ceilings, and Vulcan aesthetics. He took a moment to absorb the details before stepping back into the familiar confines of his Personal Reality.


    T''Pol raised an eyebrow at his impromptu excursion. Tyson shrugged. "In case I ever need to return to Vulcan," he explained.


    She nodded, understanding dawning in her eyes. The ability to return to any place visited was a powerful tool, and Tyson had just expanded his reach considerably.


    Captain Voris approached the portal''s threshold, his face a mask of control, yet there was a warmth in his eyes. "We owe you a great debt," he said, his gaze moving between Tyson and T''Pol. "Your assistance has been... most appreciated."


    "It was the right thing to do. Consider it a gift from Earth," Tyson said simply.


    With a final nod of farewell, T''Pol closed the portal with a wave of her hand.


    The Medical Bay, so recently filled with the quiet bustle of awakening Vulcans, fell silent. Tyson and T''Pol stood side by side, the weight of what they''d just accomplished settling over them.


    "Well," Tyson said, breaking the silence. "That was... something."


    T''Pol turned to him. "Indeed. Your capacity for understatement is remarkable."


    "So, what shall we do now?" he asked.


    T''Pol''s eyebrow arched, a gesture that Tyson was beginning to find endearing. "I believe that I must return to my duties aboard Enterprise. Will you be joining me?"


    Tyson hesitated, his first instinct to decline T''Pol''s offer. But then an idea came to him, a potential use for his newfound portal abilities that might prove worthwhile.


    "I will join you," he said, "I want to test something."


    Intrigue flashed briefly in the Vulcan''s eyes before her expression smoothed back into impassivity. Without another word, she led the way to the doorway connected to her quarters aboard the Enterprise. They emerged into T''Pol''s sparse and orderly cabin.


    <hr>


    Tyson


    Origins: Human, Humanoid, Drop-In, Space Pirate, Bad Guy


    Race: Augment Human-Betazoid (Hybrid)


    Character Points: 1400, [250 KOTOR (Vicky)]


    Reality Points: 250


    Ship Points: 1400


    Credits: 116,450


    Status Effects: (none)


    Drawbacks:


    Gauntlet (Locked)


    Ensign Marty Stu


    A Simple Re''Q''uest


    Hybrid (Betazoid)


    Amok Time/Blood Fever


    Outlawed


    Mary Sue


    Perks:


    Cosmic Awareness


    Out of Nowhere


    Going Native


    Live and Let Live


    This is (Not?) Rocket Science


    Kinda Bland


    Determinator


    Painted On


    Snakeskin


    Adaptable


    Duelist


    Master with your Hands


    Best of the Best


    Everything Is A Weapon


    Augment


    Force Specialization: Intelligence


    Tactical Info


    Sever Force


    Items:


    Laser Blade


    Spacesuit


    Agony Booth


    Cloaking Minefield


    Lightsaber


    Gray Goo Suit


    Companions:


    (Vicky) V-KO IV Nursedroid: Access Key, Artificial Intelligence Upgrade, Gray Goo Upgrade, Master With Your Hands, Light Weapon, Jumper''s Master Key, Scaling Cloak, Origin: Jedi, Force Specialization: Intelligence, Enhanced Mind, Lightsaber, Armored Robes, Battle Meditation


    T''Pol: Access Key,


    Personal Reality:


    Access Key, Additional Keys


    Security System


    High-Security Inter-Reality Connecting Door (Star Trek Enterprise)


    Medical Bay


    High-Security Inter-Reality Connecting Door (Star Wars Knights of the Old Republic)


    Key Link


    Housing Complex


    Basic Nutrition


    Choice Apartments


    Who''s Got the Powa


    Pipes Pipes Pipes


    Playing With Portals


    Portal Link


    Spaceships:


    Tramp Freighter (Destroyed - Respawn on 02/28/2365)


    Sith Interceptor (Bridge Upgrade)

 Season 2: Episode 11 - Decommission

    Episode 11 - Decommission


    Stardate: 41176.4


    Earth Standard Date: March 05, 2364.


    Location: NX-01 Enterprise, Delphic Expanse


    "What was the experiment you were considering?" T''Pol asked.


    "We can open portals to anywhere we''ve been previously," he explained, "Including the Seleya, assuming it''s still intact. I learned in my time away that I could import ships that I own into the system. Since the Seleya is derelict, I should be able to import it."


    T''Pol''s eyebrow arched. "To what end?" she questioned. "The ship is hardly functional."


    Tyson shrugged. "I don''t know what I can do with it until I try. I know that ships I import, if destroyed, will be recreated in a year. At the worst, I could import it, set it to self-destruct, and then have a new one next year."


    T''Pol fell silent, her brow furrowing slightly as she mulled over his words. After a moment, she spoke, "Your reasoning is logical," she conceded. "Though a starship the size of the Seleya with just yourself, or the two of us, seems impractical."


    Tyson grinned, undeterred by her pragmatism. He approached the wall of her cabin, placing his hand flat against its surface. The air shimmered and warped as he began to open a portal. As the seconds ticked by and the room wasn''t sucked through a depressurized void, Tyson''s grin widened. The Seleya was still intact. The portal expanded, revealing the bridge of the Seleya exactly as Tyson remembered it. The consoles stood screens stood dark, proof of the ship''s abandoned state.


    T''Pol straightened, her posture becoming more formal. "I must return to my duties," she said. She hesitated for a moment before adding, "Enjoy your salvage operation."


    Tyson turned to face her, meeting her eyes. "T''Pol," he said, his voice soft but earnest, "I''d like to acquaint you with the amenities available in the Personal Reality. Would you be interested in joining me for a meal?"


    T''Pol''s eyebrow rose once more, but Tyson caught a flicker of... Curiosity? Interest? in her dark eyes. "I would be amenable to sharing a meal," she responded after a moment''s consideration.


    A warm smile spread across Tyson''s face. "I''ll see you soon then," he said, feeling a surge of anticipation.


    With a final nod to T''Pol, Tyson stepped through the portal onto the bridge of the Seleya. The air was stale, carrying the faint metallic scent of a long-abandoned ship. As he heard T''Pol''s cabin door close behind him, signaling her departure to her duties, Tyson closed the portal.


    As he tried to access one of the consoles on the Seleya''s bridge, he received a popup in his HUD.


    [Free] Import (Spaceships)


    Instead of choosing a Ship Type and Size for purchase, import one space-worthy vessel you already own. Its default Section Size and Rating are that of a ship of the corresponding size. At your choice, ship parts you buy can either replace pre-existing parts of the original ship or exist in addition to them.


    D''Kyr-Class cruiser (Spaceships)


    A Vulcan cruiser operated during the mid-22nd century. It has a crew of approximately 150, is armed with particle beam weapons and photonic weapons, deflector shields, and is powered by a warp-ring drive.


    He accepted the import and the D''Kyr appeared on his character sheet. Tyson opened the ship menu, reviewing the options now available to him. No upgrades were available, which made sense since the vessel wasn''t docked at a spaceport. But there was one option that caught him by surprise. Decommission. He stroked his chin in thought as he considered whether to scrap the antiquated ship or find a use for it.


    Decommission (Spaceship)


    Destroy this vessel. Decommissioned vessels do not self-destruct, they are absorbed by the system. In return, you are granted half of its value in Ship Points. Any living creatures on a vessel when decommissioned will be sent to your Personal Reality along with any CP-backed items. Non-CP-backed items will be destroyed.


    [100 SP] Ship Size Rating: III


    [100 SP] Artificial Gravity


    [50 SP] Fighter Craft


    [100 SP] Cargo Bay


    [200 SP] Alcubierre Drive


    [300 SP] Antimatter Reactor


    [50 SP] Navigation Suite


    [100 SP] Deflector Shields


    [50 SP] Docking Port


    [50 SP] Beam Weapons


    [100 SP] Missiles


    Total Adjusted Decommission Value: 600 SP


    "Well, well," he muttered to himself, "Looks like if I want to end up with a great ship, I''m going to have to live up to my Space Pirate Origin after all."


    The irony wasn''t lost on him. But the potential was undeniable. 600 SP for a ship that was currently inoperable? That was nothing to scoff at. Still, Tyson hesitated. Was decommissioning the best option? For the era of the NX-01 Enterprise, the D''Kyr class was a powerhouse. It was massive, boasting shields that the Enterprise of this time lacked, not to mention impressive firepower.


    As he contemplated, another thought struck him. Why hadn''t this been an option when he acquired the Sith Interceptor? Tyson''s brow furrowed as he considered the question. Two factors came to mind. First, the Sith Interceptor was a much simpler craft. No shields, no hyperdrive, and no amenities to speak of. Secondly, it had been mass-produced by the Star Forge. Maybe that made it essentially worthless when imported into his system.


    The Star Forge.


    The thought hit Tyson like a physical blow, making him freeze in place. His eyes widened as the implications washed over him. The Star Forg was key. That needed to be his next priority.


    "Ivy," he called out, his voice tight with sudden urgency. "We need to start planning our next move. The Star Forge has to be our target."


    Ivy''s avatar materialized in his field of vision, her expression curious. "I''m not familiar with the Star Forge."


    Tyson replied, "Sorry. I forgot even though you''re Vicky, you''re isolated from your main self unless we''re within communication range. The Star Forge is a space station that Revan and Malak used to create the Sith fleet. I need to get control of it immediately. Especially with this stupid Mary Sue Drawback that came from nowhere. The last thing I need is an enemy gaining control of a station that can infinitely produce starships."


    Ivy nodded, her holographic form pacing the bridge as she processed the information. "That does sound like something we need to get a handle on immediately," she warned. "We''ll need my main-self to create a virtual intelligence in the station so that if someone else does get control of it, they won''t actually have control."


    "We can''t." Tyson disagreed, "The Star Forge is steeped in the Dark Side of the Force. I can''t risk you interacting with the station, since you''re Force-sensative. The last thing I need is a powerful artificial intelligence corrupted by the dark side. But that''s a problem to handle when I get there, which is now our top priority."


    With a deep breath, Tyson made his decision. He reached out and selected ''Decommission'' on the main console. And in the blink of an eye, he found himself standing in the antechamber of his Personal Reality.


    Ship Points: 2000


    The familiar space materialized around him, but Tyson barely noticed. The Ship Points from the Seleya''s decommission were a nice bonus, but they paled in comparison to the potential of the Star Forge.


    "Ivy," he said, "We''ve got to move."


    Ivy''s avatar reappeared. "Aye Aye," she replied, a hint of excitement in her voice.


    Tyson stepped through the Inter-Reality Connecting Door, leaving his antechamber behind. He found himself in Malak''s private quarters but quickly exited making his way towards the bridge. His Gray Goo Suit shifted and reformed taking on the appearance of his Sith armor. By the time he reached the bridge, Ivy had already transmitted the situation to the true Vicky, who was maintaining her cover as Darth Malak.


    On the bridge of the Leviathan, consoles beeped and crew members moved with purpose. At the center of it all stood Darth Malak, his presence commanded respect and fear from all who surrounded him. As Tyson approached, Malak turned to regard him. "Ah, Typhon," the Sith Lord''s mechanical voice resonated through the bridge. "I was just about to call for you."


    Malak summoned Admiral Karath to join them. The Admiral hurried to comply. The Sith Lord addressed the gathered group. "Admiral, I wish to dispatch Typhon on a personal mission. Have a shuttle prepared for his departure."


    Karath nodded sharply, ever the dutiful servant. "Right away, Lord Malak. Shall I arrange an honor guard or troopers to escort him?"


    "That won''t be necessary," Malak replied, dismissing the suggestion with a wave of his hand.


    Karath, eager to please, quickly added, "A shuttle is always prepped in the Hangar Bay. You may depart at your convenience, Lord Typhon."


    As Karath wished him luck and returned to his post, Malak escorted Tyson to the Hangar Bay. Crew members and droids alike scurried out of their path, none daring to make eye contact with the intimidating duo.


    They entered a shuttle together. As the ramp raised behind them, sealing them off from the rest of the ship, a palpable change came over the atmosphere. Once they were truly alone, Malak''s visage began to shift and morph. The Sith Lord melted away, replaced by the familiar and welcome form of Vicky.


    When her transformation was complete, she wasted no time in rushing into Tyson''s arms. Tyson caught her and hugged her tightly. The feel of her in his arms was a welcome reminder of the reality behind their elaborate charade.


    "I''ve missed you," Vicky murmured, her voice muffled against his chest.


    Tyson chuckled softly, the sound strange coming from behind his Sith mask. "We were never really apart," he reminded her gently, referring to the VI version of her that was always with him.


    Vicky pulled back slightly, her eyes twinkling with amusement. "It''s not the same, and you know it," she chided. Then, her expression growing more serious, she asked, "So, the Star Forge, huh?"


    Tyson sighed, releasing Vicky and moving to the shuttle''s controls. As he began the pre-flight sequence, he explained, "It''s our next big move. The potential of that station... Vicky, I need to secure it as soon as possible."


    Vicky nodded. "I understand the appeal." As the shuttle''s engines hummed to life, Vicky reached out, placing her hand over Tyson''s. "Good luck. I''ll be with you."


    "I''m pretty sure you''re supposed to say, May the Force be with you," he replied.


    Vicky headed for the ramp, shifting back into the form of Malak. "Who needs the Force, when you''ve got me." She answered over her shoulder, as she returned to her ruse.


    The shuttle lifted off, leaving the Leviathan behind.


    As the shuttle settled into its hyperspace journey, Ivy sprang to life.


    "I''ve received a substantial data packet from my counterpart in the Leviathan''s systems," she began, "The Star Forge, our primary objective, is an Ancient Rakatan creation located in their home system, known as Lehon."


    "Go on," Tyson urged, eager to hear more.


    The VI continued, her voice steady as she outlined their journey. "Currently, the Leviathan is holding position in the Allenteen system with the Sith fleet. Our route will take us along the Shipwright''s Trace hyperspace route to its end in the Fondor System."


    Ivy manifested within his field of vision in the co-pilot seat. Though she wasn''t real, she could appear so to his sight, and he could even feel feedback from touching her ''hologram'' since she existed within his Gray Goo Suit. She continued, "From there, we''ll need to adjust our course. The Rimma Trade Route will take us one system over to Vindalia."


    "After Vindalia, we''ll make the Giju Run to Hijaf. At that point, we''ll head into the Unknown Regions. We''ll have to follow the route that Malak and Revan plotted during their original journey."


    The journey ahead was complex. "How long until we reach the Star Forge?" he asked.


    "It''ll take a little over a day to reach Hijaf," she reported. "From there, it''s another three days to Lehon, assuming we don''t encounter any unexpected obstacles."


    Tyson nodded, leaning back in his seat as he processed this information. Four days. In just four days, they could be standing before one of the most powerful artifacts in the galaxy. The thought was both thrilling and terrifying.


    Support the creativity of authors by visiting the original site for this novel and more.


    "We''ll need to be prepared for anything," he mused aloud.


    The VI chimed in again, her voice calm and analytical. "Based on the data available, we should anticipate limited automated defense systems. This spacecraft was created by the Star Forge and should be recognized as such. The facility has limited weapons, and relies on its creations for defense."


    The shuttle hurtled through hyperspace. The journey to the Star Forge had begun. Tyson and Ivy settled in for the journey ahead.


    ¡ª Star Jumper ¡ª


    The shuttle glided silently through the inky blackness of space. The stars of the Lehon system twinkled innocently, unaware of the invisible spacecraft approaching. Tyson sat at the controls. The journey had been long and uneventful. He''d made good use of the four-day trip, slipping back to his Personal Reality to gather the Scaling Cloak, which he had installed into the shuttle''s systems. He even made a brief stop on the NX-01 to update T''Pol on the Seleya''s fate.


    Now, as they approached their ultimate goal, Tyson felt a mix of anticipation and trepidation coiling in his gut. The Star Forge loomed before them, a massive structure that seemed to dwarf the very stars around it. Its angular design spoke of an alien aesthetic, looking like a claw from a vending machine game.


    "We''re approaching the docking area," Ivy announced, her voice low as if she feared being overheard despite their cloaked state. "No signs of detection so far."


    Tyson nodded, his eyes never leaving the approaching behemoth. "Let''s hope our luck holds," he murmured. "Any activity on the sensors?"


    Ivy shook her head, her brow furrowed in concentration as she studied the readouts. "Nothing. The station has not detected us. No automated defenses, no communication attempts... nothing."


    As they drew closer, the sheer scale of the Star Forge became even more apparent. The station seemed to pulse with inner energy through the Force, as if it were a living, breathing entity rather than a construct of metal and technology.


    "Beginning docking procedures," Tyson announced. The shuttle maneuvered gracefully, aligning itself with one of the many docking ports that dotted the Star Forge''s exterior.


    With a soft hiss and a gentle thud, the shuttle made contact. Tyson held his breath, half expecting alarms to blare or for some ancient defense system to spring to life. But there was only silence.


    "We''re docked," Ivy confirmed, her voice tinged with disbelief. "And... we''re still undetected."


    Tyson let out a long, slow breath, allowing himself a moment to savor their accomplishment. "We''re not out of the woods yet," he cautioned, "But I have to admit, I didn''t expect it to be this easy."


    As they began the process of equalizing pressure and preparing to board the station, Tyson couldn''t shake the feeling that this was almost too good to be true. The Star Forge, one of the most powerful and sought-after artifacts in this galaxy, and they had just waltzed right up to it undetected. "Just because we made it this far without a hitch doesn''t mean there aren''t surprises waiting for us inside."


    With a soft hiss, the shuttle''s ramp lowered, revealing the cavernous hangar bay of the Star Forge. The air was thick with the scent of metal and ozone from the station''s endless production of war machines.


    As he approached the edge of the shuttle''s shield bubble, Tyson felt a moment of trepidation.


    This was the point of no return.


    Tyson engaged the Scaling Cloak within his Gray Goo Suit. The advanced technology enveloped him in a bubble of invisibility, allowing him to move undetected through the Star Forge. He couldn''t help but feel a surge of gratitude for Vicky''s purchase of this item. Without it, he''d be facing an endless horde of Assault Drones.


    The shuttle''s shield flickered briefly, allowing him to pass through.


    In that instant, the shuttle became visible, shimmering into existence. The reaction was immediate and violent. Assault Drones swiveled toward the sudden intruder. Red targeting lasers danced across the shuttle''s hull as the droids opened fire, their weapons spitting plasma bolts with mechanical precision. Tyson didn''t hesitate to run out, invisible under his shield and Scaling Cloak. As soon as he cleared the shuttle''s shield, it snapped back into place, rendering it invisible once more. The droids'' attacks ceased abruptly as their target vanished as quickly as it had appeared. Confusion seemed to ripple through their ranks if such a thing was possible for machines.


    "Ivy," he whispered, "We need a path to the command center."


    In response, a glowing trail materialized before him, visible only through his HUD. It snaked through the corridors of the Star Forge, a beacon guiding him through the structure. Tyson moved swiftly but cautiously. There was an underlying sense of menace to the place as if the very walls were alive and hostile.


    Assault Drones patrolled at regular intervals, their sensors sweeping for any sign of intruders. The knowledge that the Star Forge could produce these killing machines endlessly added an extra layer of tension to his journey.


    After what felt like hours of careful navigation, Tyson finally reached his destination. The command center loomed before him, a hub of terminals and holographic displays that pulsed with the lifeblood of the station''s operations.


    Tyson approached the main console. A password prompt glowed on the screen, a final line of defense against unauthorized access. But Tyson had come prepared for just such an obstacle.


    He held out his hand, palm hovering just above the console''s surface. The nanobots that comprised the Jumper''s Master Key flowed from his suit in a liquid metal stream. They seeped into the console, bypassing digital barriers as if they didn''t exist. For a tense moment, nothing happened. Then, with a soft chime, the console sprang to life. Screens flickered and changed, granting access to the Star Forge''s most sensitive systems.


    Tyson allowed himself a small smile of triumph. "We''re in," he murmured, his fingers already dancing across the holographic interface.


    [Free] Import (Spaceships)


    Instead of choosing a Ship Type and Size for purchase, import one space-worthy vessel you already own. Its default Section Size and Rating are that of a ship of the corresponding size. At your choice, ship parts you buy can either replace pre-existing parts of the original ship or exist in addition to them.


    Star Forge (Spaceships)


    A giant automated shipyard created by the Rakatan Infinite Empire nearly 26 thousand years ago. The Star Forge draws energy and matter from a nearby star which, when combined with the power of the Force, is capable of creating an endless supply of ships, droids, and other war material. Its production is its best defense, but it is also armed with Turbolasers and Shields.


    Decommission (Spaceship)


    Destroy this vessel. Decommissioned vessels do not self-destruct, they are absorbed by the system. In return, you are granted half of its value in Ship Points. Any living creatures on a vessel when decommissioned will be sent to your Personal Reality along with any CP-backed items. Non-CP-backed items will be destroyed.


    [400 SP] Ship Size Rating: V


    [100 SP] Artificial Gravity


    [200 SP] Auto-Repair System


    [50 SP] Fighter Craft


    [100 SP] Cargo Bay


    [100 SP] Hangar


    [200 SP] Production Lines


    [100 SP] Automated Ship


    [400 SP] Negentropy Reactor


    [50 SP] Navigation Suite


    [100 SP] Deflector Shields


    [50 SP] Docking Port


    [400 SP] Matter Printer


    [200 SP] Clarketech Module


    [50 SP] Beam Weapons


    [-400 SP] Cursed: Dark Side Taint


    Total Adjusted Decommission Value: 1050 SP


    Tyson contemplated the holographic image of the Star Forge hovering before him. The ancient space station was a technological marvel, capable of endlessly producing ships, droids, and other machines by harnessing the power of a star. Yet as remarkable as the Star Forge was, Tyson hesitated to keep it active. He could feel the dark side''s taint permeating every centimeter of the station.


    The Star Forge had been constructed countless ages ago by the Rakatan Infinite Empire, fueled by the power of the dark side. That foul energy had seeped into the very framework of the station over the millennia, like oil soaked into wood. Tyson had no way of cleansing that darkness from the Star Forge, at least none that he knew of. Nor did he have any particular defenses against the insidious creeping of the dark side''s corruption. He couldn''t in good conscience allow his companion Vicky to create a Virtual Intelligence to inhabit the Star Forge while it remained tainted. Decommissioning the Star Forge was the wise choice, Tyson knew.


    And yet, a voice whispered in the back of his mind.


    One of the upgrade options gave him pause.


    It would allow the station to take an alternate form. Because the Star Forge was itself a starbase itself, he could make upgrades and changes to it instantly. The potential of the Star Forge was nearly limitless. If he could endlessly produce ships, who would threaten him? The Dominion? The Borg? The Sith? The Republic? He''d be able to defeat them all.


    [200 SP] Space Hulk (Spaceships)


    You may buy a new size for your vessel. It gains an alt-form having that size, while still having access to everything its original form has.


    The Star Forge had some inherent limitations. Its Negentropy Reactor absorbed matter and energy from the star to power itself. If he purchased the upgrade to change its size, it would still require that energy source and it held little in reserve. Additionally, the station lacked any propulsion system. Tyson estimated a minimum of 50 SP for added energy storage, or more for a secondary energy source, 200 SP for a warp drive, and 200 more to reduce its size. He could make the Star Forge into a functional, fighter-sized craft that could transform back into its original size and capabilities¡­ and it would only cost 450 SP total.


    Or he could decommission the station entirely, giving him a total of 3050 SP. With such a high amount of Ship Points, he could upgrade another ship or station with all the Star Forge''s functionality and still have Ship Points remaining.


    Tyson had to ask himself. Did he need the Star Forge? It had created the Sith fleet, which was now under Vicky''s control. The station could replace any losses they suffered, but did Tyson care? He had no plans for the Sith to rule the galaxy. On top of that, many of the Star Forge''s upgrades were of questionable use to him. Unless he had Vicky end her charade, and Tyson took over as the new Sith Lord. If he fought off Malak, he should be able to fight off any challengers. Why be timid, when he could control the Sith, and conquer the Republic?


    Was there even a need to decide now? He could always decommission the Star Forge later if needed. Purchasing the Space Hulk upgrade now would allow him to shrink it to a fighter-sized vessel that could fit through his portal and into the Warehouse. He could defer adding an FTL drive if it was just going into storage. At worst, decommissioning it afterward would only cost him 100 refunded SP.


    Tyson''s finger hovered over the purchase option for the Space Hulk upgrade. The temptation was overwhelming. With barely any effort, he could take the infamous Star Forge back to his Personal Reality. The station''s power would be his to command. Yet something held him back. As alluring as the prospect was, alarm bells rang faintly in the back of Tyson''s mind.


    This was too convenient, too easy.


    He could practically taste the Star Forge''s potential, and it left a bitter aftertaste of doubt.


    Stepping away from the console, Tyson opened a portal into his Personal Reality.


    Leaving the Star Forge cleared his head of the station''s oppressive ambiance. Away from the Dark Side''s insidious influence, Tyson realized¡­


    He had nearly fallen into the Star Forge''s trap.


    This space station was temptation incarnate, ready to give him the galaxy if he would only accept its power. While he was no strict adherent to Jedi dogma, Tyson recognized that the Star Forge embodied everything the Jedi Order rejected; greed, corruption, and the endless hunger for power. He had felt the station''s siren call, beckoning him to use its might to dominate the galaxy. Such strength would be incredibly dangerous in the wrong hands.


    Tyson knew he could not claim the Star Forge for himself. To do so would put his soul at risk, opening himself to the Dark Side''s corruption. Even if he resisted using it for evil, the station''s mere presence could warp him over time. He had only been on the station for a few minutes, and he''d felt its influence.


    If any enemy seized control of the Star Forge, the consequences would be catastrophic.


    There was only one solution. The Star Forge had to be destroyed, its dark potential eliminated from the galaxy forever. The risk of keeping it intact was simply too great. Tyson would not let temptation or wishful thinking cloud his judgment. The wisest course was to Decommission the ancient space station. With a heavy sigh, he chose Decommission.


    Ship Points: 3050


    Episode: Star Wars Knights of the Old Republic - The Star Forge Complete!


    +100 RP


    Reality Points: 350


    Tyson stepped into his Warehouse. His eyes were drawn inexorably to the Agony Booth, where Darth Malak was trapped. The once-imposing Sith Lord now looked vulnerable, his form wracked by the booth''s constant torment. Tyson approached slowly, his mind still reeling from his recent encounter with the Star Forge. As he stood before Malak, Tyson felt a shift in his perspective. The subtle pull of the Star Forge, its insidious influence, still echoed in his mind. He couldn''t help but wonder if this same force had shaped Malak''s descent into darkness. Was the man before him not just a tyrant, but also a victim of the very power he sought to control?


    The philosophical implications of his realization weighed heavily on his conscience. If Malak had been corrupted by the Star Forge, was he truly responsible for his actions? Or was he merely a pawn of the dark side?


    Either way, Tyson sure as hell wasn''t about to let him out.


    With one last glance at the suffering Sith Lord, Tyson opened a portal and returned to his quarters on the Enterprise-D.


    ¡ª Star Jumper ¡ª


    Tyson


    Origins: Human, Humanoid, Drop-In, Space Pirate, Bad Guy


    Race: Augment Human-Betazoid (Hybrid)


    Character Points: 1400, [250 KOTOR (Vicky)]


    Reality Points: 350


    Ship Points: 3050


    Credits: 116,450


    Status Effects: (none)


    Drawbacks:


    Gauntlet (Locked)


    Ensign Marty Stu


    A Simple Re''Q''uest


    Hybrid (Betazoid)


    Amok Time/Blood Fever


    Outlawed


    Mary Sue


    Perks:


    Cosmic Awareness


    Out of Nowhere


    Going Native


    Live and Let Live


    This is (Not?) Rocket Science


    Kinda Bland


    Determinator


    Painted On


    Snakeskin


    Adaptable


    Duelist


    Master with your Hands


    Best of the Best


    Everything Is A Weapon


    Augment


    Force Specialization: Intelligence


    Tactical Info


    Sever Force


    Items:


    Laser Blade


    Spacesuit


    Agony Booth


    Cloaking Minefield


    Lightsaber


    Gray Goo Suit


    Companions:


    (Vicky) V-KO IV Nursedroid: Access Key, Artificial Intelligence Upgrade, Gray Goo Upgrade, Master With Your Hands, Light Weapon, Jumper''s Master Key, Scaling Cloak, Origin:Jedi, Force Specialization: Intelligence, Enhanced Mind, Lightsaber, Armored Robes, Battle Meditation


    T''Pol: Access Key,


    Personal Reality:


    Access Key, Additional Keys


    Security System


    High-Security Inter-Reality Connecting Door (Star Trek Enterprise)


    Medical Bay


    High-Security Inter-Reality Connecting Door (Star Wars Knights of the Old Republic)


    Key Link


    Housing Complex


    Basic Nutrition


    Choice Apartments


    Who''s Got the Powa


    Pipes Pipes Pipes


    Playing With Portals


    Portal Link


    Spaceships:


    Tramp Freighter (Destroyed - Respawn on 02/28/2365)


    Sith Interceptor (Bridge Upgrade)

 Season 2: Episode 12 - Naked Now

    Episode 12 - Naked Now


    Stardate: 41209.2


    Earth Standard Date: March 17, 2364.


    Location: USS Enterprise-D


    The steady thrum of the Enterprise''s engines reverberated through the deck plates, an ever-present backdrop to life aboard the starship. In the lounge of 13-Forward, Tyson sat at a table, his fingers dancing across the surface of a PADD as he studied starship upgrade options. Though he could have simply accessed the information through his HUD, however, the PADD provided a convenient prop as he worked in the public space.


    13-Forward bore an uncanny resemblance to the more famous 10-Forward, though it was located several decks below on the saucer section. Tyson had initially assumed he was in the famous lounge when Q first dumped him back into the Star Trek universe, before realizing his mistake. The two lounges were nearly identical in layout and decor.


    A low murmur of conversation and the occasional clink of glasses filled the air as off-duty crew members relaxed in the lounge. Tyson kept his eyes down as he continued his research.


    A projection of Vicky materialized in the seat next to Tyson. She wasn''t physically there, it was Ivy, a virtual intelligence copy of Vicky''s program that was part of his Gray Goo Suit. She interfaced with his HUD to produce a visual replica only he could see.


    "Ship Rating seems to be the most important dictator of a ship''s power," Tyson said. They had been discussing how ships interacted with his system. He tapped the PADD, bringing up a comparison chart. "And its Rating at baseline is based on the ship''s size. So the Sith Interceptor is a small fighter with a Rating of I, while the Star Forge was massive and Rated V. According to these numbers, the Enterprise-D should be a Rating III vessel. But I can''t be certain without having control of the ship and importing it into the system."


    Ivy''s holographic form leaned in. It looked like she was scanning the data, though as a VI, she could assimilate any information that he saw, through her interface within his HUD. "And you can upgrade a Vessel''s rating," she added.


    Tyson nodded in agreement. "200 Ship Points to increase a Vessel''s rating one Rank up to V after that, the cost doubles."


    "So with 400 Ship Points, your Sith Interceptor could match the Enterprise-D?" Vicky asked, her eyebrow raised in a perfect imitation of human curiosity. "That seems pretty cheap."


    Tyson shook his head. "No. It''s not so simple. Sure that would make them the same ranks and upgrade its current systems to the same Rank as the Enterprise''s. But the Sith Interceptor still has no shields and no FTL engine. The Enterprise has torpedoes and transporters and hosts of other systems that the Interceptor lacks. If I tried to bring it up to being a match for the Enterprise, I''d end up blowing all my Ship Points."


    Ivy processed this information in a millisecond, then stated, "So it''s better to start with a better ship to build from."


    "Absolutely," Tyson agreed, his eyes scanning the room as if searching for inspiration among the stars streaking past the viewports.


    "So where are you going to get a better ship from?" Ivy pressed, her tone carrying a hint of challenge.


    Tyson''s lips quirked into a mischievous grin. "I could always ask your main self to give me one as your apprentice. An Interdictor-class Cruiser wouldn''t be a bad base to build from."


    Ivy''s laughter filled the air, a surprisingly human sound from her holographic form. "A warship for my apprentice, sure thing!"


    Tyson chuckled, then leaned forward, his expression growing serious. "The alt-form size reduction for 200 SP is a given," he mused, his fingers tracing patterns on the table''s surface. "It''d allow the ship to keep its functionality, but be reduced to the size of a fighter."


    "Why a fighter?" Ivy asked, her head tilted in curiosity.


    "Because I can open portals only up to 80 square meters. That way I could move it between realities as needed. Otherwise, I''d have to spend the Reality Points to increase the size of my portals, which would run me 200 Reality Points."


    Ivy ran the calculations. "200 Reality Points to open a portal large enough for an Interdictor or the Enterprise, versus 200 Ship Points per ship to shrink them."


    Tyson tilted his head back and forth, weighing the options. "Eh, it could go either way. I''m not sure how often I''ll be able to find derelict ships to Decommission, versus how quickly I can earn Reality Points from completing episodes. But I''m leaning toward you being right, Reality Points should be easier to come across as time goes on. And for a ship the size of a capital ship, I''d need to invest in creating portals not on flat surfaces and be able to create them far enough out that the ship could fly through. Those upgrades would run me another 300 Reality Points. So it''s closer to 500 Reality Points, which is more than I have, versus 200 Ship Points per ship."


    Tyson leaned back in his chair, his fingers drumming a restless rhythm on the smooth surface of the table. The PADD before him glowed with a wealth of information, ship schematics, and technical specifications scrolling across its screen.


    "So, is there much difference in the ships between Star Wars and Star Trek universes?" Ivy asked.


    Tyson''s brow furrowed as he considered the question. "Not so much as the System is concerned," he replied, his voice low and thoughtful. "It takes a pretty generic look at the ships. Given that the technology is so different, it roughly categorizes them and makes them comparable. But there are significant differences in how they work."


    Ivy''s holographic eyebrow arched in a perfect imitation of T''Pol''s expression. "Like what?"


    Tyson gave her a deadpan look, wondering if she''d mimicked the gesture intentionally. "Like in their propulsion. So the Enterprise and all starships in Star Trek use two different drives; an Impulse Drive and a Warp Drive. The system categorizes these as Torch Drive and Alcubierre Drive respectively." He lowered his voice slightly to not draw attention, since to anyone else, it would look like he was talking to himself. "It doesn''t matter if you''re using a Warp drive like the one on the NX-01 Enterprise or the Enterprise-D, the System looks at them the same, but gives them a different Rating based on their speed."


    "And the Star Wars ships?"


    Tyson''s fingers danced across the PADD, pulling up new schematics. The blue glow of the screen reflected in his eyes, giving them an almost manic gleam. "So the Star Wars ships use Ion Drives and Hyperdrives. Ion Drives are not considered Torch Drives, they''re Inertialess Drives. Because they accelerate past the speed of light, ignoring relativistic laws by using a form of minor temporal shielding."


    His words came faster now, driven by enthusiasm. "Hyperdrives, as best I can tell, use an interdimensional mechanism to allow the ship to travel many times faster than the speed of light."


    "Which is faster?"


    Tyson''s lips quirked into a half-smile. "The Star Wars ships are far faster. But they come with some limitations, namely the Inertialess Drive is expensive under the System, and Hyperdrives require Hyperlanes to travel in. That''s not a big deal because, in the Star Wars Universe, the Hyperlanes are well documented. But in the Star Trek Universe, hyperspace lanes aren''t known of at all."


    After a moment, Ivy spoke again, her voice carrying a note of challenge. "So what''s the best option?"


    Tyson snorted. "Loaded question," he said, shaking his head. "Probably a high rating Inertialess Drive, but that comes with its own risks. If the temporal shielding failed, you''d end up moving through time as you moved through space, meaning it would seem like you traveled to the future from your perspective. A Hyperdrive with the best system-available sensors to map the Hyperspace lanes, and a computer capable of doing all the calculations would probably be best. That would cost even more Ship Points because I''d be upgrading other systems. Alternatively, ignoring the previously mentioned FTL methods, the system offers a Jump Drive which lets you travel pretty much anywhere, it just needs a little time to calibrate, but that requires at least a Rating VI ship. Making it even more expensive."


    Vicky leaned back, mirroring Tyson''s posture. "Lots of options," she commented, her tone thoughtful.


    Tyson nodded, his gaze drifting to the stars beyond the viewport. "So many options," he agreed, a hint of frustration creeping into his voice. "And I don''t even have a real ship yet."


    The lounge hummed with the quiet energy of off-duty crew members, their conversations a backdrop to Tyson''s musings. A young ensign laughed at a nearby table, the sound sharp and bright. Over the past few minutes, the background noise in 13-Forward swelled, pulling Tyson''s attention from the PADD before him. He looked up, his eyes narrowing as they swept across the room. The scene that greeted him was far from the usual professional demeanor of the Enterprise crew. Two crewmen were locked in a passionate embrace, their lips meeting with an urgency. As Tyson''s gaze traveled further, he noticed more pairs and small groups engaged in various states of intimacy. Hands caressed, bodies pressed close, and the air thrummed with an energy that was decidedly different from the ship''s usual atmosphere.


    A female crewman approached Tyson''s table, her eyes gleaming with an intensity that set off warning bells in his mind. She pulled her chair closer, her hand reached out, fingers seeking his with clear intent.


    It was unusually forward. Enough so that Tyson''s reflexes kicked in and he slid his hand away. He willed his shield to activate. The bubble of energy bubble sprang into existence around him creating a shimmering barrier between himself and the increasingly chaotic room.


    The woman''s fingers brushed against the shield, her touch exploratory and insistent. "Come on, handsome," she purred, her voice a husky invitation. "Lower your shield. Let''s have some fun."


    Tyson''s brow furrowed as he opened his mind, allowing his Empathy to flow outward. The emotional landscape of 13-Forward hit him like a tidal wave. Elation, amusement, and arousal swirled together in a potent cocktail. It was a far cry from the usual mix of curiosity, professionalism, and controlled excitement that typically permeated the Enterprise.


    Ignoring the woman''s continued attempts to breach his shield, Tyson made his way to one of the wall consoles. His voice was steady as he spoke. "Tyson to Counselor Troi."


    After a moment, Troi''s voice filled the air, calm and professional despite the underlying tension. "Troi here, go ahead Tyson. What can I do for you?"


    Tyson''s eyes darted around the room, taking in the increasingly uninhibited behavior of the crew. "Counselor, I''m in 13-Forward and the crew is acting unusually. I''m sensing a lack of inhibitions through my empathy. Is something wrong?"


    Troi''s response was swift and to the point. "There''s a contagion moving through the ship. I recommend trying to isolate yourself from others, and avoid direct contact."


    A frown creased Tyson''s forehead as memories of an early Star Trek episode surfaced in his mind. This was the one where there was a ''disease'' spreading that made the crew drunk and chaos ensued. "Understood, counselor," he said, closing the comms.


    He turned to Ivy, his voice low and urgent. "Is the Spacesuit functionality of the Gray Goo Suit active? When was the last time I had direct skin contact with anyone?"


    Vicky''s response was instantaneous, her tone as crisp and efficient as ever. "Your Spacesuit is active. You have not had direct skin contact with anyone since returning to the Enterprise. All contact has been to the Gray Goo Suit. You have not had direct contact with any crew members in 4 hours and 16 minutes."


    Tyson''s frown deepened as he recalled a crucial detail from the episode. The contagion had affected Commander Data, an android. Who knew if it could penetrate or even worse, could it affect his Gray Goo Suit? The last thing he needed was to be covered in drunk nanobots.


    By now, his position at the console had not gone unnoticed. Several women were now approaching, their eyes fixed on him with an intensity that spoke of more than casual interest. Tyson''s Augment physique and natural attractiveness made him stand out, and he realized that he''d soon be swarmed if he remained where he was.


    Without hesitation, Tyson placed his hand on the wall opening a portal to his Personal Reality. The portal took a few seconds to open to a size large enough for him to step through. So he reached out with the Force. A telekinetic wave pulsed from him, pushing back the advancing crowd. Bodies stumbled, drinks spilled, and startled cries filled the air as the invisible force created a bubble of space around him.


    Tyson stepped through, emerging directly into his Medical Bay.


    The portal snapped shut behind him, cutting off the sounds of confusion and protest from the affected crew members.


    ¡ª Star Jumper ¡ª


    Tyson centered himself as he considered his next move. The contagion on the Enterprise was a threat, not just to the crew, but potentially to his systems. He needed to find a way to help, to solve this problem before it spiraled further out of control. He wasn''t a doctor, and Augment or not, he wouldn''t be able to learn enough to solve this problem before it spiraled out of control. He had his Medical Bay, which could heal him, but what about his Gray Goo Suit? If the suit had been contaminated, there was no way for the Medical Bay to repair it, it didn''t work on nanobots.


    Tyson contemplated his limited options. He could use the Medical Bay to scan himself and confirm he was not infected, then abandon his Gray Goo Suit until a cure was discovered. His Spacesuit remained stored in the Warehouse; he could retrieve it to protect himself in the interim. However, the Spacesuit lacked the defensive capabilities of the nanobot suit. Without the Gray Goo''s integrated shield and armor, Tyson would be far more vulnerable.


    Or perhaps there was another way. Tyson opened his interface, considering the Reality Points at his disposal. He could invest them to upgrade the Medical Bay, enhancing its abilities to not only heal and cure any pathogens but also repair the compromised nanobots. This would allow him to salvage the Gray Goo Suit while also creating a way to help cure the afflicted crew.


    [100 RP] The Nano-Medical Lab (Personal Reality)


    The Medical Bay can now tell exactly what every nanoscale contaminant inside a living body does and, optionally, remove them without causing harm to the host. The NML can also replicate and administer Medical and Augmentation Nanites as long as you have the materials and requisite know-how. All NML-administered Nanites have fiat backing.


    [100 RP] The Bio-Synthesis Lab (Personal Reality)


    This upgrade covers all serums, viruses, bacteriological agents, and other chemical, genetic, or retroviral repair and boosting sciences, giving the results fiat-backing. Does not provide any knowledge base.


    Reality Points: 150


    The Medical Bay expanded and transformed before his eyes, new side chambers materialized behind strong transparent windows. The Nano-Medical Lab and Bio-Synthesis Lab appeared, their advanced equipment visible from Tyson''s position.


    Tyson''s gaze swept across the improved biobeds, taking in the additional stations and displays that now adorned them. Each bed seemed more like a miniature medical center than a simple diagnostic tool. He approached one.


    A container sat next to the side panel display, its purpose clear. Tyson willed his Gray Goo Suit to leave him. Silver liquid began to stream from his hand in a mesmerizing flow of nanobots that had been his second skin since its purchase days earlier. The sight was fascinating, the suit had become such an integral part of his life that he''d almost forgotten what it looked like in its base state. As the last of the nanobots entered the container, Tyson felt oddly vulnerable. He''d grown accustomed to the constant presence of the suit, and its absence left him feeling exposed despite the safety of his Personal Reality. And it didn''t help that he was now naked.


    Tyson lay down on the biobed. The surface adjusted to his body, conforming for optimal comfort and scan efficiency. A soft hum filled the air as the bed began its work, various sensors and scanners passing over his body in a choreographed dance of diagnostic precision.


    Seconds ticked by, each feeling longer than the last as Tyson waited for the results.


    Finally, the display lit up with its findings. Tyson''s eyes scanned the readout, tension draining from his body as he processed the information. He was clear. No contaminants, no hidden surprises lurking in his body. A quick glance at the container holding his Gray Goo Suit confirmed that it, too, was unaffected.


    "Better to be safe than sorry," Tyson muttered to himself.


    Leaving the Gray Goo Suit safely contained in the Medical Bay, Tyson made his way to the Warehouse. The vast space contained only sparse items. He moved with purpose, heading directly for where he knew the Spacesuit was stored.


    He donned the helmet and belt. The skintight garment spread across his body like a second skin.


    As the final seals engaged, Tyson took a moment to adjust to the feeling. The suit''s air supply kicked in, the soft hiss of filtered oxygen filling his ears. He flexed his fingers, testing the suit''s responsiveness. It moved with him, perfectly. While lacking the defensive measures of the Gray Goo Suit, it would keep him safe from the contaminant running rampant in the Enterprise. Fully equipped and as protected as he could be, Tyson made his way to the antechamber. Instead of opening a portal, he opted for the Access Key to return to the Enterprise, stepping into his quarters.


    Tyson had the Medical Bay and the potential to make a difference. The question was, how best to apply these resources? Should he reveal his Personal Reality, and offer help to cure the infected crew members? Or perhaps there was another solution, one that wasn''t immediately obvious but could prove just as effective without exposing his abilities?


    His thoughts were suddenly interrupted by a ship-wide announcement.


    "Attention all decks, all divisions," Picard''s voice rang out, echoing through the corridors. "Effective immediately, I have handed over control of this vessel to Acting Captain Wesley Crusher."


    Wesley''s voice filled the air, brimming with unearned confidence and misplaced enthusiasm. "Thank you, Captain Picard, thank you. And with that order dawns a brave new day for the Enterprise."


    Tyson sighed heavily, his eyes rolling skyward in exasperation. "Wesley," he muttered under his breath.


    Stolen story; please report.


    He knew exactly where he needed to start.


    Tyson left his quarters, the door swooshing shut behind him. The corridors of the Enterprise, usually a model of efficiency and order, now held an air of barely contained chaos. Crew members moved about with an unsettling lack of purpose, their usual professionalism replaced by giggles and whispered conversations. Tyson''s spacesuit drew curious glances as he made his way towards Engineering. He ignored the stares and suggestive comments, focusing on the task at hand.


    The turbolift doors opened. A pair of ensigns were engaged in an impromptu dance contest. Tyson stepped around them, continuing his journey to Engineering.


    Commander Riker stood with Assistant Chief Engineer MacDougal.


    Riker''s voice, tinged with frustration, carried across the room as he updated Captain Picard over his combadge. "Captain, the ship''s engines are cut off from the bridge. The Assistant Chief Engineer pulled out the isolinear optical chips from command. All engines are offline."


    Picard''s response came through the comm system, his tone sharp with urgency. "What have you learned, Number One?"


    Riker continued, his eyes scanning the room as if searching for a solution. "Wesley has hooked some kind of tractor beam to the ship''s power and he has it aimed at the door. We can''t get past to get to the computer."


    "Can you short out the power?" Picard''s questioned.


    MacDougal stepped forward, her voice steady despite the circumstances. "Yes, I can. But it''s going to take some time."


    "Do it!" Picard''s command was clear and unequivocal.


    As the exchange concluded, Tyson approached the group. At first, Riker paid him no mind, his outlandish spacesuit blending in with the surreal party atmosphere that had infected most of Engineering. But as Tyson''s demeanor registered as reasonable and focused, Riker''s gaze sharpened, taking in the incongruous sight before him.


    "Tyson?" Riker asked, his voice carrying a mix of confusion and curiosity. "Why are you in a spacesuit?"


    Tyson''s response was matter-of-fact. "There''s a contagion spreading around the ship¡­ Why aren''t you?"


    Riker''s eyebrows shot up, a flicker of realization crossing his face. "A good point," he conceded, "but we''ve got a crisis on our hands if you haven''t noticed."


    "That''s why I''m here," Tyson replied, "Looks like you have a forcefield in your way. I can get you around it."


    Riker''s eyes narrowed, a mix of skepticism and hope battling in his expression. "How?"


    Tyson stood silently for a moment, considering the best way to prove his worth. He knew the truth of his abilities would come out eventually. If he showed them now when they could make a difference, and demonstrate their value; then they may be more acceptable to the Enterprise crew going forward.


    Without a word, Tyson placed his hand on the nearest wall. The air shimmered and warped as a portal began to open. On the other side, the engineering section where Wesley had barricaded himself came into view. Riker''s jaw dropped, his usual composure momentarily shattered. He looked from the portal to the forcefield and the portal entrance inside the forcefield area, then back again, disbelief etched across his features.


    "It''s safe?" he asked cautiously.


    Tyson''s response was tinged with grim humor. "Safer than leaving Wesley in control of the ship."


    With that, Tyson stepped through the portal. Wesley''s voice, filled with misplaced enthusiasm, greeted them from the other side. "Wow, that''s a neat trick."


    Riker and MacDougal followed cautiously. As soon as they were through, Tyson grabbed Wesley by the back of his collar, like an unruly puppy, and lifted him effortlessly.


    "Want me to take him to Sickbay?" Tyson asked, his tone casual as if he were offering to carry groceries rather than a wayward teen turned mutineer.


    Riker nodded, relief evident in his voice. "Please."


    Tyson closed the existing portal and opened a new one, this time leading directly to Sickbay. He tossed Wesley onto a biobed and sealed the portal behind him.


    Turning back to Riker, Tyson''s voice was all business. "Anything else I can help you with, Commander?"


    Riker shook his head, still processing the events of the last few minutes. "Maybe. Stay close."


    As Riker and MacDougal began assessing the damage to the isolinear chips, pushing aside the assistant chief engineer who''d caused the problem, Tyson thought ahead.


    "Commander," he suggested, "Data might be the best to help with that." The android could complete the task far faster than the human engineers.


    Riker nodded, his expression clearing as he recognized the wisdom of the suggestion. "He''s right." He tapped his combadge, his voice carrying the authority of his position. "Riker to Data. We need you in Engineering immediately."


    The response that came through was not what anyone expected. Tasha Yar''s voice, tinged with playfulness, filled the air. "Data''s currently busy. I''ll be done with him soon."


    The implications of Yar''s words hung in the air. Riker''s face cycled through a range of emotions. Confusion, concern, and finally, recognition of what Yar had implied.


    "This is worse than I thought," he muttered. Turning to Tyson, his eyes narrowed with focus. "We need to contain this situation before it gets any more out of hand. Do you have any other tricks that might help?"


    "Actually, I do," Tyson answered. "I have access to a Medical Bay that can cure this pathogen."


    Riker''s eyebrows shot up, a mixture of hope and skepticism battling across his features. "Dr. Crusher found a cure?"


    "No," Tyson replied simply.


    The commander''s brow furrowed, his tactical mind already racing ahead. "Has it been tested on anyone?"


    "Only myself," Tyson admitted.


    Riker''s decision was swift. "Do it," he ordered, his voice carrying the weight of command. "Bring Dr. Crusher with you to oversee."


    Tyson nodded, responding, "Aye aye."


    He strode over to the other Assistant Chief Engineer, the man who had pulled the isolinear chips and stacked them on the floor like blocks. Tyson hauled the engineer to his feet. "I''ll start with him and Geordi," Tyson explained, "If I can get them back on their feet, they''re another set of hands that can help."


    Tyson''s hand found the wall, and a portal shimmered into existence, revealing Sickbay. He stepped through, the disoriented engineer in tow.


    Dr. Beverly Crusher looked up from her work. Her red hair was wild, her eyes wide with concern, not just from this pathogen, but from the portals that keep opening in her Sickbay.


    "Tyson, what''s going on?" she asked, her voice carrying a note of professional interest despite the circumstances.


    Tyson responded, "I have a cure for this, doc, but Commander Riker wants me to have you supervise."


    Crusher''s eyebrows shot up, surprise evident in her voice. "You never said you were a doctor."


    "I''m not," Tyson admitted, "I just have access to some advanced methods."


    Without further explanation, Tyson closed the portal to Sickbay and opened another. This time, the view beyond was not unlike the Sickbay they stood in; The Medical Bay of his Personal Reality. Crusher recognized some of the technology, but others were completely foreign to her.


    Tyson guided the assistant chief engineer to one of the biobeds, the man''s eyes wide with a mixture of confusion and awe. Then Tyson stepped back into Sickbay and retrieved the unconscious form of Geordi LaForge. He placed the chief engineer on another biobed in the Medical Bay, the advanced systems immediately beginning their work.


    Dr. Crusher followed, her scientific curiosity overriding any lingering hesitation. Her eyes darted around the room, taking in the unfamiliar technology with a mixture of fascination and professional interest. Without prompting, she pulled out her medical tricorder. As the biobeds hummed to life, holographic displays sprung into existence above each patient, and Dr. Crusher moved between them. Her tricorder beeped and chirped as she verified the readings, her brow furrowed in concentration.


    "These readings... they''re incredible," she muttered, more to herself than to Tyson. "The level of detail, the speed of analysis... I''ve never seen anything like it."


    Tyson stood back, allowing the doctor some room to work. "The system is designed to handle nearly any ailment automatically," he explained, "It should be able to isolate the contagion affecting the crew and develop a targeted treatment."


    Dr. Crusher looked up from her tricorder, her eyes sharp with curiosity. "And you''re certain this is safe? This technology... it''s far beyond anything we have on the Enterprise."


    Tyson nodded, his expression serious. "I''ve used it on myself, doctor. I can assure you, it''s safe enough. And right now, it might be our best hope of containing this situation before it spirals completely out of control. Take whatever scans you care to to ensure they aren''t harmed."


    As if on cue, one of the biobeds emitted a soft chime. The holographic display above the Assistant Chief Engineer flickered and changed, a cascade of data scrolling across its surface.


    Dr. Crusher moved to the biobed, her eyes scanning the display with practiced ease. "It''s... it''s identifying the pathogen," she said, her voice filled with a mixture of awe and professional excitement. "And it''s already synthesizing a treatment. This is remarkable." Her fingers danced across the biobed''s controls, calling up more detailed readouts. "If these readings are accurate, we should start seeing results within minutes." She paused, her gaze shifting to Tyson. "This technology... it could revolutionize medical treatment across the Federation."


    Tyson''s expression remained neutral, but he knew that they likely wouldn''t be able to duplicate the effects of his Medical Bay. "One crisis at a time, doc," he said softly. "Let''s focus on getting your crew back on their feet."


    Dr. Crusher''s tricorder beeped insistently. She checked the readings, her eyes widening. "It''s working," she breathed, "The pathogen is being neutralized. His system is returning to normal."


    The soft chime of the biobed signaled Geordi''s stirring and the chief engineer''s return to consciousness.


    "Welcome back, Chief. How are you feeling?"


    Geordi blinked, his eyes moving beneath his visor as if trying to focus on something just out of reach. "I feel really good," he said, surprise evident in his tone. "Like better than I have in my entire life." A moment later, he groaned, his hand moving towards his face. "Except my eyes. Everything seems wrong, out of focus, hard to see."


    Dr. Crusher stepped forward, her tricorder already humming as she scanned the chief engineer. Her voice was calm and professional, but there was an undercurrent of excitement that she couldn''t quite hide. "You were affected by a contagion. But we''ve managed to neutralize it." She paused, her eyes widening as she read the tricorder''s display. "As for your eyes... Geordi, take off your visor."


    Confusion flitted across Geordi''s face, but he complied, his hands moving with the practiced ease of years to remove the device. As the visor came away, Geordi''s eyes widened in shock. For the first time in his life, he could see without assistance.


    "I... I can see," Geordi whispered, his voice thick with emotion. His gaze darted around the room, drinking in colors and shapes that had been nothing more than electronic interpretations for so long.


    Dr. Crusher''s voice was filled with awe as she turned to Tyson. "This technology is miraculous. It not only handled the contagion, it repaired Geordi''s vision."


    Tyson added, "You''re probably feeling a little off because this lab is set up to handle pathogens and nanomachines, but not cybernetics. There may be some complications with your vision, but if the cybernetics are removed, the Medical Bay should be able to heal your eyes without issue."


    The moment of wonder was short-lived, however, as the reality of their situation reasserted itself. Dr. Crusher''s expression hardened. "We''ll need to find a way to synthesize a treatment for the entire crew. And we''ll need a way to administer it quickly. Perhaps we could use the environmental systems..."


    Tyson was already shaking his head, his expression serious. "The Medical Bay doesn''t work like that," he explained, "We''ll need to bring the crew here to be healed. Our attentions are better focused on preventing reinfection and isolating those already infected with the contagion."


    Dr. Crusher nodded, her professional demeanor fully restored now that she had a clear course of action. "In that case, agreed. We''ll need to coordinate with Commander Riker. And we''ll need to prioritize key personnel. Bridge crew, engineering, security."


    Tyson responded, "With my portals, I''ll handle it," he said, already moving towards the wall. "But Doc, you need treatment yourself. Now that you know it works, get in the bed. I''ll talk with Commander Riker and get Geordi back to work."


    The assistant chief engineer, also now fully recovered, stood ready. With a gesture, Tyson opened a gateway back to Engineering.


    Commander Riker looked up as they entered, hope and wariness warring in his eyes. Tyson wasted no time with pleasantries. "Crusher approved the treatment," he reported, "The assistant chief engineer and Geordi are back on their feet."


    As if to punctuate his words, Tyson stepped aside, allowing the two engineers to move towards their stations. "Don''t touch each other," Tyson warned, his voice sharp. "Get some gloves and get to work."


    Riker''s eyebrows shot up as he took in Geordi''s appearance, noting the absence of the visor. But there was no time for questions. Tyson was already turning back to the portal. "The rest of you, in here to receive your treatment. It''s only a few minutes. Then we need to come up with a plan to systematically clear the crew."


    The Engineering crew hesitated for a moment, eyeing the shimmering portal with a mixture of curiosity and apprehension. Riker''s voice cut through their hesitation. "You heard him, people. Move!"


    As the crew began filing through the portal, Tyson turned to Riker. "Commander, Doctor Crusher recommended we prioritize bridge crew, security, and key personnel in each department. We can''t risk the contagion spreading further while we''re trying to contain it."


    Riker nodded, his tactical mind already racing ahead. "Agreed. I''ll coordinate with security to set up containment zones. We''ll need to isolate anyone showing symptoms until we can get them through your... Medical Bay."


    Geordi, now at his station and working furiously to restore the ship''s systems, called out without looking up. "Commander, I can get the engines back online. But we''re going to need to run a full diagnostic on all systems. There''s no telling what damage has been done while the crew was... compromised."


    Riker''s jaw tightened, but he nodded. "Focus on getting the engines functioning again. The captain is worried about the star out there, diagnostics can wait if needed. Tyson, how quickly can you process people through your treatment?"


    "The treatment itself only takes a few minutes per person. The Medical Bay itself can accommodate any number of crew. The bottleneck will be getting people to and from the Medical Bay. With my portals, we can move quickly, but we''ll need to be systematic."


    As they spoke, more crew members emerged from the portal, their eyes clear and focused, ready to return to duty. The chaos that had gripped Engineering was slowly giving way to order as trained professionals reclaimed their faculties.


    Riker tapped his combadge. "Riker to bridge. Status report."


    Captain Picard''s voice came through, tinged with confusion and the last vestiges of the contagion''s influence. "Number One? What''s happening?"


    Riker cut him off, his voice gentle but firm. "Captain, we have a situation. I''m sending Tyson to bring you and the bridge crew for treatment. Stand by."


    Tyson was already moving to open another portal knowing they couldn''t risk any mistakes on the bridge; it was the ship''s command center.


    Riker called out. "Tyson." He paused, his expression a mixture of gratitude and determination. "Good work. Let''s get our ship back."


    The familiar sounds and sights of the bridge greeted him as he emerged from the portal. Captain Picard looked up confused. Tyson straightened, his voice clear and confident as he addressed the bridge crew.


    "Captain, I need you and the bridge officers to come with me. We have a cure for the contagion, but we need to act quickly." He gestured to the portal. "If you''ll follow me, we can begin the treatment process immediately."


    ¡ª Star Jumper ¡ª


    Captain Picard and his crew returned to their stations. The fog of confusion that had gripped them earlier had lifted, replaced by the sharp clarity that came with their recent treatment in Tyson''s mysterious Medical Bay.


    Captain Picard''s voice rang out, crisp and authoritative. "Initiate shipwide lockdown. All crew members are to remain in their current locations until further notice." His fingers danced across the command console, implementing the isolation protocols that would allow them to systematically heal everyone on board.


    The familiar beep of the ship''s computer acknowledged the command, and status lights across the bridge shifted to yellow alert, indicating the lockdown was in effect.


    They had a plan, a way forward. For a moment, it seemed as though the crisis was under control.


    Then, without warning, the star on the viewscreen shrank and exploded in a brilliant flash of light and energy. The sudden violence of the cosmic event shattered the brief moment of calm, plunging the bridge back into crisis mode.


    Worf''s deep voice cut through the stunned silence, his words clipped and urgent. "What we''re seeing, sir, is a huge chunk of the star''s surface blown away, heading for us."


    Picard''s response was immediate, his command instincts kicking in. "Take us out of here."


    The tension on the bridge ratcheted up a notch as Worf''s fingers flew across his console, only to be met with resistance. "Controls are still offline, sir."


    "Override," Picard ordered, his voice tight with controlled urgency.


    Worf''s response came back negative. "Same result, sir."


    Picard''s jaw clenched as he tapped his combadge. "Picard to Riker, status."


    Riker''s voice crackled through the comm system. "We have engineering under control, the engines are nearly restored. Geordi requested to run diagnostics before engaging the engines."


    Picard cut him off, the urgency in his voice palpable. "The star is collapsing. We''re directly in the path of the stellar matter."


    As if to underscore the captain''s words, Worf''s voice rang out again, his tone grave. "Sir, I estimate fourteen minutes until that mass gets here."


    Picard''s response was swift and decisive. "Tell Geordi he''s got ten minutes."


    "Yes, Sir," Riker acknowledged, the sound of rapid movement audible in the background as he relayed the order.


    The bridge fell into a tense silence, broken only by the soft beeps and whirs of the ship''s systems. The viewscreen showed the approaching stellar mass, a looming reminder of the danger they faced.


    Picard turned to Tyson. "Your work has been exemplary," he said, his voice carrying the weight of command. "I must ask you to continue while this crisis continues."


    "Of course, captain."


    Tyson moved to open another portal, preparing to continue the treatment of the crew. The dual threats of the contagion and the approaching stellar mass hung over them. As the engineering crew worked feverishly to repair the ship, Tyson continued his efforts to treat the infected crew members. His portals shimmered into existence and disappeared as he moved throughout the ship, bringing small groups to the Medical Bay for treatment.


    The minutes ticked by, each second bringing them closer to potential disaster. The approaching stellar mass loomed larger on the viewscreen, a constant reminder of the danger they faced.


    Suddenly, Geordi''s voice crackled over the comm system. "Engineering to bridge. We''ve got engines!"


    A collective sigh of relief passed through the bridge crew, but Picard''s voice remained tense. "Not a moment too soon, Mr. La Forge. Mr. Worf, tractor beam on the Tsilokovsky. Engineering, full impulse power, get us out of here!"


    The familiar hum of the Enterprise''s engines vibrated through the deck plating as the ship lurched into motion.


    As the immediate danger passed, Picard turned once more to Tyson. Since he had access to two portals, he''d kept one open to the bridge in case of emergency. "Mr. Tyson, status report on the crew."


    Tyson answered, "We''ve treated approximately 30% of the crew, Captain. At our current rate, we should have everyone cleared within the next two hours."


    Picard nodded, a small smile of approval crossing his face. "Excellent work. Continue your efforts. It seems we''ve weathered this storm, thanks in no small part to your assistance."


    As the Enterprise moved further away from the collapsing star, the tension on the bridge began to ease. They had faced two potentially catastrophic events and came out on top. But Tyson knew once things were settled, he''d have some explaining to do. And he knew exactly how he''d handle it.


    When in doubt. Blame Q. It worked well enough so far.


    Episode: Star Trek The Next Generation - The Naked Now Complete!


    +100 RP


    Reality Points: 250


    <hr>


    Tyson


    Origins: Human, Humanoid, Drop-In, Space Pirate, Bad Guy


    Race: Augment Human-Betazoid (Hybrid)


    Character Points: 1400, [250 KOTOR (Vicky)]


    Reality Points: 250


    Ship Points: 3050


    Credits: 116,450


    Status Effects: (none)


    Drawbacks:


    Gauntlet (Locked)


    Ensign Marty Stu


    A Simple Re''Q''uest


    Hybrid (Betazoid)


    Amok Time/Blood Fever


    Outlawed


    Mary Sue


    Perks:


    Cosmic Awareness


    Out of Nowhere


    Going Native


    Live and Let Live


    This is (Not?) Rocket Science


    Kinda Bland


    Determinator


    Painted On


    Snakeskin


    Adaptable


    Duelist


    Master with your Hands


    Best of the Best


    Everything Is A Weapon


    Augment


    Force Specialization: Intelligence


    Tactical Info


    Sever Force


    Items:


    Laser Blade


    Spacesuit


    Agony Booth


    Cloaking Minefield


    Lightsaber


    Gray Goo Suit


    Companions:


    (Vicky) V-KO IV Nursedroid: Access Key, Artificial Intelligence Upgrade, Gray Goo Upgrade, Master With Your Hands, Light Weapon, Jumper''s Master Key, Scaling Cloak, Origin: Jedi, Force Specialization: Intelligence, Enhanced Mind, Lightsaber, Armored Robes, Battle Meditation


    T''Pol: Access Key


    Personal Reality:


    Access Key (Additional Keys, Key Link)


    Security System


    High-Security Inter-Reality Connecting Door (Star Trek Enterprise, Star Wars Knights of the Old Republic)


    Medical Bay (The Nano-Medical Lab, The Bio-Synthesis Lab)


    Housing Complex (Basic Nutrition, Choice Apartments, Who''s Got the Powa, Pipes Pipes Pipes)


    Playing With Portals (Portal Link)


    Spaceships:


    Tramp Freighter (Destroyed - Respawn on 02/28/2365)


    Sith Interceptor (Bridge Upgrade)

 Season 2: Episode 13 - Code of Honor

    Episode 13 - Code of Honor


    Stardate: 41235.3


    Earth Standard Date: March 27, 2364.


    Location: USS Enterprise-D


    Tyson paused on the bridge, taking a moment to appreciate the view. The bridge was iconic but far from perfect. The tactical station lacked even a chair as if treating that officer like a twenty-fourth-century cashier. The divider that extended from the tactical console, separating the upper stations from the lower seats, seemed out of place. Not to mention the dated, eighties color scheme. This was one of Tyson''s least favorite bridges from Star Trek, alongside the antiquated sixties aesthetic of Kirk''s original Enterprise. Still, despite his critiques, standing here gave Tyson a thrill.


    Leaving the bridge, he passed through the port-side door into the deck one observation lounge. He had been summoned to a senior staff meeting, no doubt to explain the strange abilities he had demonstrated with the Tsilokovsky. Tyson was surprised it had taken the Enterprise crew so long to call him in. He could likely explain away the portals as an extension of the Force since the Enterprise crew knew nothing of the Force beyond what he had revealed. But no aspect of the Force could account for his advanced Medical Bay. Tyson strode toward the lounge, mentally preparing for the inevitable questions from the skeptical officers within.


    The Enterprise''s senior staff gathered inside the observation lounge around the long table. The stars streaking by outside the large windows were a constant reminder of their journey through space. Captain Picard sat at the head of the table, his face a mask of careful neutrality as he surveyed his officers. Tyson felt the weight of their gazes upon him as he took his seat.


    Picard cleared his throat, his voice carrying an authoritative tone. "I''ve called this meeting to discuss the recent incident with the contagion, and more specifically, the... unusual methods employed by our guest, Mr. Tyson, in helping to resolve the situation."


    The captain''s eyes fixed on Tyson, his gaze intense but not unkind. "First I''d like to express my gratitude for your efforts to contain and cure the contagion. Perhaps you could start by explaining your ability to open portals. It''s a technology we''ve never encountered before, at least not in such a portable form."


    Tyson was acutely aware of the curiosity and wariness that radiated from the officers around him. "Captain, I wish I had a more satisfying explanation for you. The truth is, I don''t fully understand it myself. These abilities were... given to me, along with access to the Medical Bay and other facilities within an extradimensional space, by Q."


    Riker and Troi exchanged worried glances, while Picard''s face darkened with concern. Dr. Crusher spoke excitedly, "The Medical Bay is beyond what we have on the Enterprise. It neutralized the contagion that we couldn''t even detect and even repaired Commander LaForge''s vision... it''s nothing short of miraculous."


    Geordi nodded in agreement, his newly restored eyes still a source of wonder to him. "I''ve never seen anything like it, and I''ve seen some pretty advanced tech in my time."


    Picard''s brow furrowed, his voice carrying a note of concern. "You say these abilities were given to you by Q. For what purpose?" His voice was tinged with frustration. "Why would Q do such a thing? What game is he playing now?"


    Tyson shrugged. "I wish I knew, sir. He said I was entertaining, but beyond that... your guess is as good as mine."


    Riker leaned back in his chair. "That doesn''t sound so out of character for what we know of Q. He has a flair for the dramatic and unpredictable."


    Troi added, "While Q''s actions at Farpoint were goading and inflammatory, they did serve as a lesson in the end."


    Picard''s jaw clenched. "Be that as it may, we can''t simply accept Q''s interventions at face value."


    Data tilted his head, his positronic brain working through the problem. "Captain, if I may. While Q''s motives are often unclear, Mr. Tyson''s actions during the contagion crisis were undeniably beneficial. Without his assistance, the outcome could have been far more severe."


    Worf grunted. "Commander Data is right. Whatever the source of his abilities, Tyson used them to help us. That must count for something."


    Picard nodded, acknowledging the point. He turned back to Tyson, his gaze softening slightly. "Mr. Tyson, I appreciate your openness in this matter. But you must understand our concern."


    "I understand, Captain. All I can say is that I''m grateful for the chance to help, and I hope I''ve proven that my intentions are good."


    Crusher''s medical curiosity got the better of her. "Tyson, this Medical Bay of yours, is there any chance we could study it? The potential benefits to Federation medicine could be enormous."


    Before Tyson could respond, Picard held up a hand. "One step at a time, Doctor. We need to be cautious about any technology given to us. There could be unforeseen consequences."


    Riker nodded in agreement. "The captain''s right. We''ve seen how mischievous Q can be. We need to tread carefully here."


    Picard leaned back in his chair, steepling his fingers as he considered the situation. After a long moment, he spoke. "Mr. Tyson, for now, your invitation to remain on the Enterprise as our guest stands. We''ll continue to monitor your abilities and their effects, but I won''t restrict your use of them as long as they pose no threat to this ship or its crew."


    "I want you to understand something," the captain said, "This ship, this crew; they''re my responsibility. I''ve given you a chance because I believe in the potential for good in all beings. But make no mistake. If I sense for one moment that you''re a threat to my people or the Federation, I will not hesitate to take action. Is that clear?"


    It wasn''t full acceptance, but it was a start. "Crystal clear, Captain. Thank you. I promise I''ll do everything in my power to prove your trust is not misplaced."


    Picard held his gaze for a moment longer, then nodded, seemingly satisfied. "See that you do. Mr. Tyson, you are dismissed."


    Once Tyson departed, the meeting continued.


    "Now, onto other matters. I''ve received a communication from Starbase Fourteen," Picard announced grimly. "We''ve been ordered to set course for the second planet in the Ligon system to meet with the leader there. An urgent situation is developing on Styris Four." He nodded to the doctor. "If you would, please explain the situation."


    Crusher''s expression was grave. "Styris Four has suffered an outbreak of Anchilles Fever, a highly contagious and virulent disease. Without intervention, casualties could reach into the millions." She shook her head. "The vaccine is very rare and difficult to produce. It isn''t synthesized in large quantities anywhere in the Federation."


    Picard picked up the thread. "That is why we are en route to Ligon Two. The Ligonians are not Federation members, but they have a supply of the vaccine we desperately need. We are to negotiate with them to acquire enough to deliver aid to Styris." He turned to his second officer. "Mr. Data, you will be responsible for researching and distributing relevant cultural information to smooth our dealings."


    "Yes, Captain," Data acknowledged.


    "Number One, you will be in charge of shipboard operations and command during this mission, as I will be focused on the negotiations."


    Riker nodded. "Understood, sir."


    "Lieutenants Yar and Worf, work together to coordinate security escort duties."


    "Yes, sir," they responded crisply.


    Picard looked to the doctor. "Dr. Crusher, please prepare any facilities and equipment you need to analyze and store the vaccine when we obtain it. I know it¡¯s unlikely, but also look into options for replicating it."


    "I''ll do my best," Crusher promised.


    "Counselor, as always I''ll rely on your guidance throughout these negotiations."


    Troi gave a gracious nod. "You''ll have it, Captain."


    Picard glanced around the table. "If there''s nothing else...?" When no one spoke up, he concluded, "Dismissed."


    The senior staff rose and filed out, minds already turning over the tasks ahead.


    ¡ª Star Jumper ¡ª


    Lieutenant Yar and a security team waited in Cargo Bay One as the bridge officers arrived. Troi, Riker, and Picard were speaking as they entered.


    ¡°This should be an interesting experience.¡±


    ¡°Agreed. Not only are they closely humanoid, but their history bears a remarkable similarity to ours.¡±


    ¡°A highly structured society and they¡¯re exceedingly proud,¡± added Troi.


    ¡°They¡¯ve insisted on using their transporter,¡± Yar stated.


    ¡°It¡¯s their way Lieutenant,¡± commented Picard, ¡°Do they have our coordinates?¡±


    ¡°They have, sir, precisely, and they¡¯re standing by for your signal.¡±


    ¡°This is Captain Picard aboard the Federation starship Enterprise.  Please do us the honor of visiting our vessel.¡±


    A cadre of five men was transported to the designated spot in the cargobay.  Four of the men wore matching grey outfits and carried staves. The fifth man wore a similar outfit, except in blue.  He had a rolled carpet that he kicked to spread along the floor of the cargobay.


    Once the carpet was placed, the blue-garbed man stepped to the side and a taller man in black and gold clothing teleported in.  The most outstanding part of his outfit was the gold chain and hanging large ruby-like gemstone.  It was a somewhat well-executed and coordinated showing that would have been impressive if the Federation''s sensor and transporter technology wasn¡¯t a century ahead of the Ligonians.


    He walked to the edge of the carpet, proclaiming, ¡°I am Lutan.¡±


    Picard walked within arms reach.  He raised his hands presenting his palms forward.  This was a symbolic gesture demonstrating that he did not possess a weapon and came with no hostile intentions.  Lutan matched his gesture.


    Picard then offered a handshake, ¡°Captain Jean-Luc Picard. Welcome aboard.¡±


    He then returned to where the rest of the crew was standing, ¡°These are my officers, Second in command, Commander William Riker.  My ship¡¯s counselor, Deanna Troi.  And my security officer, Lieutenant Natasha Yar.¡±


    ¡°A woman, your Chief of Security?¡±


    ¡°Yes, Lutan. That is her expertise.¡±


    ¡°I am honored to meet your officers.  This is my secondary, Hagon. A sample of the vaccine.¡±


    Hagon, holding a case, stepped forward to present it to Picard.  Tasha quickly stepped between the Ligonian and the captain.


    ¡°My duty, Lutan.  I¡¯m sorry, but I am required to inspect..¡±


    ¡°Out of my way, woman.¡± declared the blue-garbed Ligonian.


    He tried to push past Yar.  She grabbed the case he was holding.  Using it as a pivot point she spun and tossed him in a roll.  Tasha held the case, and Hagon was left on the ground.


    ¡°How interesting.  May we prove as surprising to you.¡± Lutan said chuckling.


    Tasha inspected the case to ensure it wasn¡¯t dangerous, ¡°Nothing concealed, Captain. Would you care to accept it?¡±


    Troi advised, ¡±Might I suggest, sir? No apologies.  In their view, it would weaken us.¡±


    ¡°Unless you care to examine it further,¡± Lutan barbed.


    ¡°Absolutely not. This vaccine sample is a gift of life. And we are honored to receive it. Would you do the additional honor now of letting us entertain you?¡±


    ¡°Yes. Yes.  Please prepare it.  We shall join you shortly.¡±


    The Federation officers turned to leave the cargobay.  Hagan and Lutan began speaking low in their native tongue.


    ¡°I ask forgiveness.¡± began Hagan.


    ¡°They are strange alien things. You bear no fault.¡±


    ¡°But the female...¡±


    ¡°Maybe exactly what I have needed.¡±


    Picard spoke to the Ligonians, ¡°Sirs if you¡¯ll join me. Our destination is the observation lounge of deck one.  You¡¯ll have a chance to see the vessel¡¯s bridge along the way.¡±


    Cargobays One through Six were located on deck four in the forward section.  The aft and center of the ship on that deck were the Shuttlebay.  It was a quick trip to the bridge and through to the lounge.


    ¡°Lutan, we are aware of many of your planet¡¯s achievements, and its unique similarity to an ancient earth culture we all admire.  On behave of the Federation, therefore I would like to present this token of our gratitude and friendship. From China¡¯s Sung Dynasty. Fourteenth Century.¡±


    ¡°Thirteenth Century, sir.¡± Data corrected.


    ¡°Ah, yes. Indeed.¡± Picard replied, able to keep the annoyance out of his voice.


    ¡°A most thoughtful gift.¡± Lutan accepted. ¡°We are pleased.  We of Ligon have been apprehensive about strangers. We are not as technologically advanced as you.  Yet, we possess something you do not.  A vaccine that has been found to be an effective antidote against your dreaded Anchilles fever.  If you respect our customs, and we see that respect, we will be friends. And we will make the antidote available to all who need it.¡±


    The Federation officers all clapped after Lutan¡¯s speech.


    ¡°If you require respect from us. I¡¯m sure that you will see it.¡±


    Lutan chuckled again, ¡°Surrounded by such friendship, I feel no need for my guards. I will return shortly, prepare to transport me then.¡±


    He dismissed them with a raised hand.  The discomfort on Counselor Troi¡¯s face was easy to read.  She could sense the deceit and malintentions radiating from the Ligonian leader.


    ¡°If there is anything else, any further courtesy.¡±


    ¡°Would it be possible to see one of your wondrous holodecks?  We have heard how they are used to train your officers.¡±


    ¡°And used for many other things too. I would be happy to demonstrate.¡±


    ¡°Would it be possible for Lieutenant Yar to do so, Captain? Some demonstration of defense training?¡±


    ¡°We¡¯ve noticed you¡¯re intrigued with her having security responsibilities. But these things are not at all unusual with us.¡±


    Higan spoke for the first time in the meeting, ¡°With us, it is the duty of the women only to own the land, and the duty of men to protect and rule it.¡±


    Troi commented, ¡°Much the same has happened in human history too.¡±


    Yar stood, ¡°I¡¯d like to do it, sir. As a sign of respect, perhaps.¡±


    It was clear her tone was not respectful, but rather defiant.  Though it was subtle enough that it wouldn''t be conveyed by the universal translator.  Picard accented and Yar led the two Ligonians out of the lounge.  Picard and Riker shared an understanding look.


    ¡ª Star Jumper ¡ª


    The doors of the holodeck hissed open. Tyson stepped inside, his voice rang out, clear and confident. "Computer, begin program Grievous."


    In an instant, the sterile walls of the holodeck melted away, replaced by an alien landscape that stretched as far as the eye could see. Tyson found himself standing on rocky terrain, the ground beneath his feet a deep rust color. Twin suns blazed overhead in a sky tinged with a faint purple hue, casting long, eerie shadows across the barren landscape.


    Jagged rock formations jutted up from the ground like the teeth of some long-dead behemoth, their surfaces pitted and scarred by eons of wind erosion. In the distance, a range of mountains loomed.


    The holodeck while visually stunning, was only ''real'' in the areas created through the integrated replicator systems. The setting otherwise lacked the living essence that the Force flowed through. It was an odd sensation, like suddenly losing one of his senses, but Tyson knew this was precisely why he had created this program.


    A menacing figure emerged from behind one of the nearby rock formations. General Grievous stood before him, a terrifying fusion of alien biology and advanced cybernetics. The general''s body was a skeletal frame of durasteel and transparisteel that housed what little remained of his original organic form. Grievous''s face was a nightmarish visage, a skull-like mask with piercing yellow eyes that seemed to burn with an inner fire of hatred and rage.


    Tyson''s hands moved to his waist, where his Lightsaber and Laser Sword hung. With practiced ease, he unclipped them and ignited the blades. A brilliant blue beam sprang from one hilt, while a vibrant green emerged from the other. The low hum of the energy weapons filled the air.


    Grievous''s mechanical laugh echoed across the rocky terrain. His arms split apart, revealing his true nature as a multi-limbed killing machine. Four arms now extended from his torso, each ending in a clawed hand that reached for the lightsabers hanging at his waist.


    With a series of rapid-fire ignitions, four lightsabers blazed to life in Grievous''s hands. Two blue blades and two green ones spun in a menacing display as the general twirled them with inhuman speed.


    Tyson took a deep breath, centering himself. Without the Force to guide him, he would have to rely solely on his Augment and Perk-granted physical abilities. This was the challenge he had set for himself. He had no trainer to hone his lightsaber skills, so he fought without the crutch of Force-enhanced abilities.


    The underlying truth was that Tyson didn''t wholly trust the Force.


    The Force had a will of its own. Jedi were beholden to this will, while the Sith tried to bend it to their means. Tyson couldn''t fault the Sith for not wanting to be subject to the whims of a cosmic ''Force''. Because at any given time it could favor your opponent. But neither philosophy felt right to Tyson. In his eyes, the Jedi treated the Force like they were asking a friend for a favor until the friend decided you weren''t worth it anymore, at which point you died. Meanwhile, the Sith acted like they robbed the same friend and told them to ''deal'' with it¡­ until eventually the friend stopped dealing with it and brought along a Jedi to ''balance'' things. Tyson thought his best option might be to rely only on the Force when necessary in combat, primarily using his abilities to find success.


    Part of this philosophy stemmed from his paranoia around the Mary Sue Drawback. Whoever this person was, they would be a challenge. Tyson didn''t need the Force and the system conspiring against him. So he would hone the abilities he had control over, and rely on Sever Force, for the ones he didn''t.


    Grievous launched himself forward, his four lightsabers weaved a deadly web of light. Tyson met the assault head-on, his blue and green blades moving in perfect harmony as he parried and counterattacked. The clash of lightsabers filled the air as energy blades collided, sending sparks flying in all directions. The heat from the colliding weapons was intense, adding to the already oppressive temperature of the alien world.


    Tyson''s feet slid across the rocky ground as he absorbed the force of Grievous''s attack. The general''s strength was immense, each blow carrying enough power to shatter bone. Without the Force to bolster his strength, Tyson had to rely on his own Augment strength and lightsaber technique to hold his ground. He found himself constantly moving, using the rocky terrain to his advantage. He leaped from boulder to boulder, forcing Grievous to adapt to the changing elevations and uneven footing.


    Sweat poured down Tyson''s face as he fought to keep up with Grievous''s relentless assault. Without the Force, the battle was infinitely more challenging. He couldn''t anticipate Grievous''s moves or sense incoming attacks. Every parry, every dodge was based purely on visual cues and hard-earned combat instincts. As the duel continued, Tyson began to notice patterns in Grievous''s fighting style. The general relied heavily on overwhelming force and speed. The technique, while impressive, lacked the finesse and adaptability of a true Force user. This realization gave Tyson an idea.


    Instead of meeting Grievous''s attacks head-on, Tyson began to use the general''s aggression against him. He would dodge at the last moment, causing Grievous to overextend and leaving him momentarily vulnerable. Then, Tyson would strike with one or both of his lightsabers, forcing the general on the defensive.


    The change in tactics seemed to frustrate Grievous. His attacks became frenzied, more desperate, as he found himself unable to land a decisive blow on his opponent. The general''s mechanical body whirred and clicked as he pushed it to its limits, trying to outpace Tyson''s movements.


    Tyson, for his part, was beginning to feel the strain of the prolonged battle. But he pushed through the discomfort, knowing that this was the kind of training he needed. As the fight progressed, his movements became more economical and precise as he learned to read Grievous''s body language, to anticipate his attacks based on the subtle shifts in the general''s stance and the positioning of his multiple arms.


    In a particularly intense exchange, Tyson managed to lock blades with two of Grievous''s lightsabers. Using all his strength, he pushed the general''s arms wide, leaving his torso exposed. With a quick spin, Tyson brought his green saber slashing across Grievous''s chest.


    There was a sizzle of burning circuits, and Grievous staggered back.


    Tyson pressed his advantage, his blue and green blades moving in perfect sync as he drove Grievous back. The general''s four arms worked furiously to parry Tyson''s attacks, but for the first time in the battle, he seemed to be on the defensive.


    As they neared one of the larger rock formations, Tyson saw an opportunity. He feinted with his blue saber, drawing Grievous''s attention high. Then, in a move of acrobatic precision, Tyson dropped and dive-rolled, coming up behind the general.


    Before Grievous could fully turn, Tyson''s green lightsaber flashed. There was a screech of protesting metal, and one of Grievous''s mechanical arms fell to the ground, its lightsaber deactivating as it rolled across the rocky terrain.


    The loss of an arm seemed to enrage Grievous. With a mechanical roar, he launched into a frenzied assault, his remaining three arms moving with blinding speed. Tyson found himself hard-pressed to defend against the onslaught, his two sabers a blur of motion as he parried and dodged. The battle had reached a fever pitch, and Tyson pushed himself to his limits. His arms ached from the constant impacts, and his lungs burned as he gasped for air in the thin atmosphere of the alien world. But there was a fierce joy in the challenge, a sense of accomplishment in holding his own against such a formidable opponent without relying on the Force.


    As the duel raged on, Tyson learned and adapted. This was the true value of the holodeck program. It allowed him to push his skills to the limit in a controlled environment, to face challenges that would be far too dangerous in the real world.


    Suddenly, a voice cut through the sounds of combat, shattering Tyson''s concentration. "What sort of game is this? It''s obviously a trick. No man can fight like that."


    Startled, Tyson nearly missed parrying one of Grievous''s strikes. He quickly called out, "Computer, pause program." The holographic world around him froze instantly, Grievous caught mid-swing, his mechanical limbs locked in place.


    As the adrenaline of the fight began to subside, Tyson became aware of the group that had entered the holodeck. In his focus, he''d cut off both his Empathy and Force senses. Lieutenant Tasha Yar stood at the forefront of the procession, a look of apologetic embarrassment on her face. Behind her, a group of black men in ornate clothing regarded the frozen scene with a mixture of curiosity and disdain.


    Yar stepped forward, her voice carrying a note of regret. "Tyson, I''m sorry for interrupting your program. This is the delegation from Ligon. I promised to show them the holodeck and some of our security training."


    Tyson deactivated his weapons, the blue and green blades disappearing with a soft hiss. "Sorry, Lieutenant," he said, his breath still coming in heavy gasps. "I didn''t mean to interfere with your tour. Please, excuse me."


    As Tyson moved to leave, one of the men from the delegation stepped forward. His eyes narrowed as he looked from Tyson to the frozen form of Grievous, his lip curling in a sneer.


    "Real men fight with their fists or real weapons," he said, his voice dripping with contempt. "Not toys."


    Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.


    The insult hung in the air, a palpable tension descending over the group. Tyson felt a flash of anger at the man''s words, but he pushed it down. He was acutely aware of the delicate nature of diplomatic relations and knew that rising to the bait would only cause problems.


    Tyson straightened his posture and looked down on the man. "These are not toys or holographic weapons, they''re real," he said taking on a challenging tone. "I''d allow you to use one, but I wouldn''t want to upset Captain Picard when I have to explain why one of his guests ended up losing a hand."


    The tension in the holodeck ratcheted up several notches as the man from Ligon bristled at Tyson''s words. His face contorted with indignation, eyes flashing with anger. "You dare?" he spat.


    Lieutenant Yar quickly stepped between them, her hands raised in a placating gesture. "Hold on," she said, her voice firm but diplomatic. "There''s no need to get upset. We''re just here for a demonstration." She turned slightly, addressing the air around them. "Computer, open Yar training program alpha-3."


    But before the computer could comply, the Ligonian delegate''s voice cut through the air, sharp and challenging. "No. I do not wish to train against the fake man. I want to train against the real one." His eyes never left Tyson, a clear challenge in his gaze.


    Yar''s expression tightened, her professional demeanor strained by the escalating situation. "Tyson isn''t a member of the Enterprise crew," she explained, "He is a guest, just like the Ligons. This isn''t appropriate¡ª"


    Tyson interrupted her with a wicked smile that didn''t quite reach his eyes. "It''s fine, Lieutenant," he said, his voice carrying a hint of anticipation. "I won''t hurt him badly."


    Yar turned to the leader of the delegation, her face a mask of concern. "Lutan?" she asked, hoping the leader would end this potentially disastrous turn of events.


    Lutan stood with his arms crossed, his face impassive as he observed the scene before him. There was a long moment of silence as he considered the situation, the tension in the room grew with each passing second. Finally, he nodded, his voice carrying the weight of authority. "I''ll allow it. Higan, show me how you fight against the man who challenges images."


    The holodeck seemed to hold its breath as Tyson and the Ligonian delegate faced each other. The frozen figure of General Grievous loomed in the background, like a statue witnessing the unexpected turn of events. The Ligonian had something to prove, and Tyson had inadvertently become the focus of his aggression.


    As Yar reluctantly cleared the space for the impromptu match, the Ligonian delegate began to remove his ornate outer robe, revealing a physique honed by years of combat training. His muscles rippled under his skin as he took up a fighting stance, his eyes never leaving Tyson.


    Tyson mirrored his opponent, settling into a ready position. He could feel the eyes of the entire delegation upon them.


    Tyson''s stance was relaxed but alert, his eyes never leaving his opponent. The Ligonian, by contrast, was tense, his muscles coiled like springs ready to unleash.


    The Ligonian lunged forward, aiming a powerful punch at Tyson''s face. But Tyson was ready. He sidestepped the attack, using his opponent''s momentum against him. In one smooth motion, Tyson grasped the Ligonian''s extended arm and pivoted, using a classic hip throw to send the man sailing through the air.


    The Ligonian hit the ground hard but quickly rolled to his feet, a look of surprise and anger on his face. Tyson didn''t press his advantage, instead circling his opponent. He was acutely aware of the diplomatic implications of this fight and had no desire to humiliate the man. Instead, he waited for the Ligonian to make the next move. The delegate didn''t disappoint. He rushed forward again, this time attempting a series of quick jabs. Tyson deflected each strike. As the Ligonian overextended on a particularly forceful punch, Tyson saw his opportunity. Ducking under the wild swing, he stepped in close, wrapping his arms around the Ligonian''s waist. With a grunt of effort, he lifted the man off his feet and drove him backward, slamming him onto the holodeck floor.


    Before the Ligonian could recover, Tyson transitioned smoothly into a grappling hold, pinning the man''s arms and applying pressure to his joints. The delegate struggled fiercely, but Tyson''s technique was flawless. Within moments, the Ligonian found himself trapped, unable to move without causing himself pain.


    "Submit," Tyson said, increasing the pressure slightly to emphasize his point.


    For a moment, it seemed as though the Ligonian would continue to struggle. But finally, with a growl of frustration, he tapped the floor, signaling his surrender.


    Tyson immediately released the hold and stood, offering a hand to help his opponent up. The Ligonian ignored the gesture, climbing to his feet on his own, his face a mask of barely contained rage.


    As Tyson turned to address Yar and Lutan, he sensed the man''s aggressiveness increase through his empathy.


    The Ligonian, unable to accept his defeat, had launched a sneak attack.


    But Tyson was not surprised. Without even turning around, he sidestepped and grasped the charging man''s arm. Using the Ligonian''s own momentum, Tyson executed a perfect over-the-shoulder throw. The delegate sailed through the air once more, landing with a heavy thud several meters away.


    This time, the Ligonian stayed down, the fight thoroughly knocked out of him.


    The holodeck was silent as everyone processed what they had just witnessed. The ease with which he had handled the Ligonian delegate spoke volumes about his skill and strength.


    Lutan, the leader of the Ligon delegation, stepped forward, his face unreadable. "It seems," he said slowly, "that we may have underestimated the warriors of the Federation." He circled Tyson, taking in his appearance with an appraising gaze.


    "You know," Lutan said, his voice carrying a note of amusement, "you look like you could be of Ligon." He gestured to Tyson''s light brown skin. "And you certainly fight like you could be. Perhaps there''s some Ligonian blood in your lineage?"


    Tyson remained polite but noncommittal, aware of the delicate diplomatic situation. "Every culture has its strengths," he replied diplomatically.


    Lutan nodded, seemingly pleased with the response. His demeanor shifted, becoming more jovial as he clapped a hand on Tyson''s shoulder. "You must join us for the remainder of the tour," he insisted, his tone leaving little room for disagreement.


    Tyson hesitated, his eyes darting to Lieutenant Yar. The security chief''s face was a mask of professionalism, but her eyes held a clear, pleading look. The message was unmistakable; keeping the Ligonian delegation happy was crucial to their mission.


    With an internal sigh, Tyson nodded. "I would be honored," he said, forcing a smile.


    As the group moved to exit the holodeck, Tyson fell into step beside Yar. "I hope this helps," he muttered under his breath.


    Yar''s relief was palpable. "More than you know," she whispered back. "Thank you."


    The tour continued through the Enterprise, with Tyson now an unexpected addition to the party. He trailed behind the main group, occasionally fielding questions from curious Ligonian delegates. His responses were careful and measured, always mindful of the potential diplomatic implications of his words.


    The group made their way through the Enterprise, visiting various areas of the grand starship. As the tour wound to an end, they arrived at the cargo bay where the Ligonian delegates had first beamed aboard. There, gifts offered by Captain Picard were gathered in preparation for transport back to the Ligonian homeworld.


    Counselor Troi entered the cargo bay first, followed by Captain Picard, Lieutenant Yar, and the group of Ligonian delegates. As the Ligonians took their positions, Tyson caught Yar''s eye. She gave him a small, appreciative nod, the tension in her shoulders finally easing after the long tour. Tyson positioned himself close to her. He remembered this episode of Star Trek, mostly do to its derogatory portrayal of black people, and had an idea of what would happen next.


    "Farewell, my new friends aboard the noble Enterprise," Lutan said grandly.


    "Understanding has forged bonds between many disparate peoples. We have had a promising beginning, Lutan," answered Picard.


    "May I also extend a personal farewell to Lieutenant Yar, in your Federation terms?" Lutan held out his hand as if for a handshake.


    Through his empathy, Tyson sensed Lutan''s true intentions; lust, desire, and deception. The Force, ever-present even when not actively called upon, sent a warning pulse through Tyson''s mind.


    When Yar accepted the proffered handshake, Lutan suddenly wrapped his other arm around her. Higan had continued holding Lutan''s far side. Without hesitation, Tyson sprang into action, thrusting himself between Lutan and Yar. His hand shot out, fingers wrapping around Lutan''s wrist in an iron grip. But it was a split-second too late.


    The cargo bay dissolved into a shower of sparkling light, enveloping not just the Ligonian delegation, but also Tyson and Lieutenant Yar. The last thing Tyson saw was the shocked expression on Captain Picard''s face. Then, the familiar surroundings of the Enterprise vanished entirely.


    "Picard to bridge, red alert," came the captain''s alarmed voice through the comm.


    ¡ª Star Jumper ¡ª


    Picard and Troi stepped off the turbolift onto the bridge, the red alert lights strobing softly across the walls. The wailing siren of the alert klaxon was still fresh in their ears. Riker stood at the tactical station in Worf''s usual place, his face set in a grim expression. Data sat at the forward console, fingers poised over the controls as he awaited orders.


    "Shields up, photon torpedoes activated, sir," Riker said as Picard and Troi took their seats.


    "What communication contact do we have?" Picard asked.


    "With their orbital station, sir," Data replied promptly.


    "Open a channel there and on all hailing frequencies," Picard commanded. "This is the Enterprise calling out to Lutan and the Ligonian government. You have committed an unfriendly act against us. We insist you respond immediately."


    "Photon torpedoes are ready on your command, sir," Riker reported.


    "Set them for a display blast, one thousand meters short of the planet''s surface," Picard ordered.


    "Ready, sir."


    "Fire," Picard said.


    A volley of six photon torpedoes launched from the Enterprise, streaking down through Ligon II''s atmosphere. They detonated high above the planet''s surface, the explosions blossoming into an ominous display of firepower visible across the eastern continent''s northern hemisphere.


    "Do we know the source of their transporter beam?" Riker asked with a frown.


    LaForge responded, "Our transporter team has tried tracing it, sir, but no luck so far."


    "It appears similar to early Starfleet transporter technology, but utilizes the Heglenian shift to convert matter and energy differently..." Data began before realizing the technical details were not pertinent. "Which is not important right now¡­" he amended.


    "This is Captain Picard of the Enterprise with a message to Lutan, whom I have so far acknowledged as a friend. But you have now committed what our laws regard as an attack upon us. Since you have visited our vessel, you most certainly know the power of it. We insist that you reply to this message."


    When no reply came, Picard turned to Counselor Troi, concern etching lines across his forehead. "Opinion, counselor. Will they injure Lieutenant Yar or Tyson?"


    Troi considered the question, her dark eyes thoughtful. "I believe not, sir. They seem mainly curious. In the case of Lutan, however, I did feel other needs."


    "What kind of needs?" Commander Riker asked, leaning forward in his chair.


    "Some sexual attraction from all the males," Troi replied. "Lieutenant Yar is physically attractive. But with Lutan, I felt something else. Something more like avarice, or ambition. Tyson would have picked up on this too, which may be why he was ready to intercede."


    Picard nodded slowly, processing this information. "Other comments?"


    "If I may, sir," Data began, turning his golden eyes toward the captain. "One of the things about the Ligonians, in the briefing studies, was their respect for patience."


    "Strongly emphasized," Riker added with a nod. "And you can see it in the precise, ritualistic way they do things. I''m worried about Yar, and Tyson too sir, but maybe we should sit and wait them out."


    Picard considered their words. Patience was logical, but with two of his crew held captive, it was difficult advice to follow. Still, he knew acting rashly could endanger Yar and Tyson further. For now, he would wait, though every instinct demanded action. "Let us hope the Ligonians reply soon," he said finally. "Or this patience may become more burden than virtue."


    Picard turned to Deanna Troi, his dark eyes searching hers. "Counselor, since you know Tyson best, what are the odds that he uses his unusual abilities in this situation?"


    Troi considered the question carefully before answering. "Tyson demonstrates respectable restraint under most circumstances," she said at last. "But if he feels himself or Lieutenant Yar are in any real danger, he will likely defend himself and her accordingly."


    Picard absorbed her words with a slow nod. It was the answer he had expected, but not the one he had hoped for. Tyson''s capabilities were formidable, almost frightening at times. If he did lash out with the full force of his powers, the results could be catastrophic. Still, Picard understood the man''s instincts to protect Yar. In his place, the captain might do the same.


    "Let us hope it does not come to that," Picard said gravely. "But should matters escalate, we must be prepared."


    Troi inclined her head in agreement. Her dark eyes were troubled as she undoubtedly thought of Tyson and Yar''s predicament. But her voice was steady when she replied, "Of course, Captain. We will be ready, whatever comes next."


    ¡ª Star Jumper ¡ª


    The world flickered and reformed around them as the transporter beam released its hold. Tyson stood in an outdoor area, the hot air redolent with exotic spices. Ornate pillars lined the space, draped with vibrant tapestries that spoke of wealth and importance. Some grand amphitheater, Tyson surmised, though the architecture was unlike anything he had seen before.


    As his senses oriented to the new surroundings, Tyson maintained a firm grip on Lutan''s wrist with one hand. In a flash, he tightened his hold on Lutan''s wrist, sliding his thumb up to lock with the Ligonian''s. With his other hand, he forced Lutan''s arm back and down, hyper-extending the joint and breaking the leader''s grip on Tasha. As soon as she was released, Tyson slid forward and delivered a powerful two-handed shove to Lutan''s chest. The Ligonian let out a cry of surprise as he was thrown back, colliding with Higan and sending them both sprawling unceremoniously to the floor.


    Tyson now stood protectively in front of Tasha, shielding her from the Ligonians. The entire exchange had lasted barely four seconds from the moment the transporter released them. Tasha stood in stunned silence either from the shock of the unexpected teleportation or Tyson''s swift and violent reaction.


    Tyson assessed the unfamiliar surroundings, noting the open courtyard offered no natural chokepoints or cover he could use to his advantage. The pinkish hue of the alien sky gave him pause. Unfortunately, there was little time to appreciate the moment. They found themselves severely outnumbered by over a dozen Ligonian guards, all armed with staves pointed menacingly in their direction.


    Lutan demanded angrily, "What is the meaning of this?" He had regained his composure after Tyson''s powerful two-handed shove cast him and Higan in an unceremonious heap on the ground.


    "I could ask you the same question." Tyson shot back, before turning to Yar who had already shifted into a defensive stance, ready to react. "Lieutenant, are you alright?"


    Yar nodded briskly. "I''m fine. But we''ve got a serious problem here."


    The first wave of Lutan''s guards approached. Tyson''s eyes tracked their movements as they surrounded him and Yar in two concentric rings before advancing into melee range. When the guards finally came for them, two burly fighters broke ranks and strode towards Tyson from the front while a third circled behind to flank Yar.


    He shifted into a defensive stance. "Well, Lieutenant, your diplomatic mission just got more complicated."


    Yar''s reply was terse, "You can say that again." Her dark eyes scanned the room, assessing threats and seeking potential escape routes. "Any ideas on how we get out of this?"


    Tyson''s gaze swept over the guards, calculating odds and looking for weaknesses. "If we can fight to a door or wall, I can get us back to the Enterprise."


    Yar raised a questioning eyebrow. "Do you have any non-lethal weapons on you?"


    Tyson shook his head regretfully. "None that won''t maim these men."


    Yar nodded in understanding, her expression resolute. "This is still a diplomatic mission. We can''t use that level of force if it can be avoided."


    Tyson cracked his knuckles, a wry grin on his face. "Alright then, this should be interesting."


    From where he''d retreated, Lutan''s voice rang out as he shouted orders to his men. "Capture them!"


    The guards advanced, and Tyson and Yar braced themselves for the coming fight. Three approached; two from the front and one circling behind to engage Yar.


    Tyson''s strategy crystallized in an instant. He focused on the guard to his left, a younger man whose nervous energy betrayed his inexperience. As the guard launched a probing strike with his staff, Tyson made a calculated decision. Instead of evading or blocking, he stood his ground, allowing the attack to come.


    The guard''s jab was painfully slow, his inexperience evident in every movement. Tyson''s enhanced reflexes made the strike seem almost comical in its lethargy. With a swift motion born of countless hours of training, Tyson''s hand shot out, grasping the staff mid-strike. A quick twist of his wrist, amplified by his augmented strength, wrenched the weapon from the startled guard''s grasp.


    But before Tyson could savor his small victory or shift into a defensive stance, the second Ligonian guard sprang into action. The man''s staff whistled through the air in a powerful overhead strike, both hands gripping the weapon for maximum impact. Tyson''s instincts kicked in, his body twisting to avoid the full force of the blow. The staff glanced off his shoulder, a stinging reminder of the danger he faced.


    The sudden acquisition of a weapon seemed to give the Ligonian guards pause. The one who''d lost his staff retreated, replaced by a fresh fighter who approached with noticeably more caution. This brief lull gave Tyson a moment to reassess his options.


    The staff in his hands was a formidable weapon, capable of dealing significant damage and providing an extra layer of defense. Its reach would keep the guards at bay, giving him a tactical advantage. However, wielding it required both hands, negating the benefits of his Master With Your Hands Perk. This ability made him exponentially more effective when fighting with one-handed weapons.


    Tyson launched the staff at the guard who had struck him. The Ligonian reacted instinctively, swinging to deflect the improvised projectile. But in doing so, he left himself wide open. Tyson charged forward, covering the distance between them in two rapid strides. His foot connected solidly with the guard''s chest, channeling all the force of his momentum and Augment strength into the kick. The impact was devastating. The guard flew backward, his body crumpling into the ground with a sickening thud.


    A stunned silence fell over the hall. The remaining guards, Lutan, and even Lieutenant Yar stared in amazement at the display of strength and skill. Tyson had disabled a trained Ligonian warrior in seconds, with seemingly little effort.


    Seizing the moment of shocked inaction, Tyson''s voice rang out, clear and authoritative. "You have attempted to abduct a Starfleet Officer and declared hostile intent toward the United Federation of Planets," he declared, his eyes scanning the room, daring anyone to challenge him. "Cease this immediately!"


    For a heartbeat, it seemed as though his words might have an effect. The guards hesitated, uncertainty evident in their postures. But then Lutan''s voice cut through. "Ignore him," the Ligonian leader shouted, his face contorted with rage and frustration. "Your ruler commands it!"


    The spell of inaction broke. The remaining guards tensed, readying themselves to re-engage. Tyson could feel Yar at his back, her combat stance mirrored his. They were outnumbered and in hostile territory, but far from helpless.


    As the guards began to close in once more, Tyson''s mind raced through possible scenarios. He needed to find a way to end this quickly, to neutralize the threat without causing lasting harm or further damaging relations between the Federation and Ligon II. It was a delicate balance that would test not just his combat skills, but his diplomacy and quick thinking as well.


    The first guard lunged forward, his staff whistling through the air. Tyson''s hand shot out, faster than the human eye could follow, catching the weapon mid-strike. With a twist of his wrist, he redirected the staff''s momentum, sending the surprised guard stumbling past him.


    Another guard attacked from the side, aiming a vicious swing at Tyson''s head. He ducked under the blow, feeling the rush of air as the staff passed inches above his scalp. In the same motion, he drove his fist into the guard''s solar plexus, driving the air from his lungs.


    Behind him, he heard the sounds of Yar engaging her opponent. The lieutenant''s combat skills were impressive and together, they formed a formidable team, each covering the other''s blind spots and creating openings for counterattacks.


    As the fight intensified, Tyson found himself falling into a rhythm. Dodge, strike, parry, counterattack. But even as he fought, part of his mind remained detached, analyzing the situation, looking for a way out that didn''t involve beating every guard into submission.


    As Tyson dispatched yet another guard with a well-placed strike, he noticed a shift in the pattern of the fight. The Ligonians, desperate to contain him, had unconsciously repositioned themselves. More guards now crowded his side of the impromptu arena, leaving Lieutenant Yar facing fewer opponents.


    In that moment, Tyson saw his opportunity. Time seemed to slow as his augmented mind raced through the possibilities, formulating a plan in the blink of an eye. He knew they couldn''t keep this up forever - they needed an exit strategy, and they needed it now.


    With a sudden burst of strength, Tyson grabbed the nearest guard by the front of his ornate uniform. The Ligonian''s eyes widened in surprise as Tyson lifted him off his feet with seemingly inhuman ease. He pivoted and hurled the hapless guard into his comrades. The group went down in a tangle of limbs and startled cries, creating a momentary gap in the circle of attackers.


    "Yar!" Tyson called out, his voice cutting through the din of combat. "With me!"


    Without waiting for a response, Tyson reached out and grabbed the lieutenant''s hand. Together, they dashed towards the nearest wall, Tyson''s enhanced speed allowing them to cover the distance before the stunned Ligonians could react. They pressed their backs against the cool stone, the intricate carvings digging into their shoulder blades as they faced the recovering guards.


    Lutan''s voice rang out, filled with rage and disbelief. "Stop them! Don''t let them escape!"


    The guards rallied, forming a semicircle around Tyson and Yar. Staffs raised, they began to close in, their faces a mix of determination and wariness. They had seen what Tyson was capable of, and none were eager to be his next victim.


    Yar''s voice was low and tense as she spoke from the corner of her mouth. "Any bright ideas? Because I''m open to suggestions right about now."


    A grim smile played at the corners of Tyson''s mouth. "As a matter of fact, Lieutenant, I do have one last trick up my sleeve."


    Before Yar could respond, Tyson raised his hand. The guards tensed, expecting another display of his inexplicable strength. But what happened next was beyond anything they could have anticipated.


    Tyson reached out with the Force, gathering its invisible energy around him. He could feel it thrumming through his body. With a sharp exhalation, Tyson released that energy in a massive push.


    An invisible wave rippled through the air, slamming into the unprepared Ligonian guards. Bodies flew backward as if hit by an explosion, staffs clattering against the marble floor as they were ripped from stunned hands. Lutan himself was knocked off his feet, his regal robes tangling around him as he sprawled ungracefully on the ground.


    In the moment of shocked silence that followed, Tyson acted. His hand shot out, palm pressing against the wall behind them. To the astonished eyes of the Ligonians, the very fabric of reality seemed to bend and warp around Tyson''s touch.


    A shimmering portal materialized, its edges rippling like the surface of a pond. Through it, Yar could see Tyson''s Medical Bay.


    He pulled Yar through the portal. They stepped from Ligon into Tyson''s Personal Reality. The contrast was jarring - one moment surrounded by angry guards and ornate decorations, the next standing in a space that seemed to blend the best elements of Federation technology with something... more.


    Behind them, they could hear the shouts of the recovering Ligonians. Lutan''s voice rose above the rest, filled with a mixture of rage and awe. "After them! Don''t let them..."


    But his words were cut off as Tyson waved his hand, sealing the portal shut.


    The shimmering gateway collapsed in on itself.


    ¡ª Star Jumper ¡ª


    The bridge of the Enterprise hummed with tension as the senior staff gathered to discuss the ongoing crisis with Ligon II. Counselor Troi''s empathic senses picked up on the undercurrent of worry and frustration permeating the room. She stepped forward, her voice calm and measured as she addressed the captain.


    "Captain, we have more information from the briefing studies on Ligon," Troi announced, her dark eyes conveying the significance of the new data.


    Captain Picard nodded, his expression thoughtful. "Excuse me. Doctor Crusher, some of this may interest you. Let us hear the analysis."


    Commander Data, ever ready with information, began the briefing in his characteristic precise manner. "It is a highly structured society in which people live by strict codes of honor. For example, what Lutan did is similar to what certain American Indians once did called ''counting coup''. That''s from an obscure language called French. Counting coup..."


    Picard''s eyebrows shot up, a flash of indignation crossing his features. "Mister Data, the French language for centuries on Earth represented civilization."


    Data tilted his head, confusion evident in his golden eyes. "Indeed? But surely, sir¡ª"


    Recognizing the captain''s offense and Data''s tendency to ramble, Riker quickly interjected, "I suggest you drop it, Mister Data."


    "Yes, sir," Data replied, smoothly returning to the topic at hand. "Counting coup could be as simple as touching an enemy with a stick in battle, or taking something from him and escaping. It was considered extremely heroic."


    Picard nodded, understanding dawning on his face. "And under these circumstances, Lutan considers himself heroic, risking literally everything in the face of our superior power."


    Troi stepped in. "And it fits Lutan''s personality profile as well. He has an abnormally high need for achievement. Self-image to him is a function of what he thinks he''s achieved. Those who set their standards too high can kill to meet them."


    Dr. Crusher, who had been listening intently, voiced the question on everyone''s mind. "Why Tasha?"


    Troi''s response was measured, her empathic abilities lending weight to her words. "As a Starfleet Security Officer, she may have represented his riskiest prize."


    Their discussion was abruptly interrupted as Data announced, "Transmission from the planet''s surface, sir. The main viewer on."


    The viewscreen flickered to life, revealing Lutan''s imperious visage. Picard''s voice was cool and controlled as he addressed the Ligonian leader. "Well, Lutan, what do you want?"


    Lutan''s reply was equally measured. "You will display your image, please."


    As Lutan''s full image appeared on the screen, resplendent in his ceremonial robes, Picard began to speak. "What is required is an image of Lieutenant Yar, well and¡ª"


    Lutan cut him off, his voice sharp. "Are you making demands, Captain?"


    Picard halted the transmission, turning to Counselor Troi for guidance. Troi''s response was swift and sure. "Sir. According to the Ligon Code of Honor, Lutan has done what he set out to do, achieve recognition for being daring and bold."


    Data chimed in, his vast knowledge once again proving invaluable. "We''ve studied this in some depth now, sir. The proper thing for you to do now is to ask to get Tasha back."


    Picard''s eyebrows shot up in disbelief. "Ask for her?"


    "Politely, Captain," Data added, his tone as matter-of-fact as ever.


    Picard turned back to the viewscreen, ready to swallow his pride and make the request. But then, a shimmering portal began to open in the wall on the side of the bridge. The crew members who had witnessed Tyson''s abilities during the contagion crisis recognized it immediately.


    From the portal stepped Tyson and Lieutenant Yar, both looking slightly disheveled but otherwise unharmed. Yar''s expression was one of bewilderment and relief, while Tyson''s face was triumphant.


    Before anyone could react to their sudden appearance, Lutan''s voice came through the still-active viewscreen. "I have boldly attempted to acquire Lieutenant Yar, but I was thwarted. In accordance with our customs, I will now grant you our life-giving vaccine."


    Picard, who had been ready to scold Lutan, quickly shifted gears. His voice was smooth and diplomatic as he replied, "Thank you, Lutan."


    The viewscreen went black, leaving the bridge in momentary silence. Picard''s next words were crisp and authoritative. "Stand down from red alert."


    Data''s fingers flew over his console as he reported, "Sir, a shipment of vaccine has just been transported into Cargo Bay One."


    Picard nodded, his gaze sweeping over Tyson and Yar before addressing the entire bridge crew. "Good work, everyone. Set a course for Styris IV, Warp 7. Engage."


    As the Enterprise hummed to life, preparing to leave orbit, the tension on the bridge began to dissipate. Yar moved to her station, her training kicking in despite the ordeal she had just endured. Tyson stood awkwardly near the center of the bridge, aware that all eyes were on him.


    "Mr. Tyson, it seems we owe you our thanks once again. I look forward to hearing a full report on how you managed to escape."


    As the Enterprise warped away from Ligon II, leaving behind the diplomatic crisis and near-disaster, the mood on the bridge lightened.


    Picard returned to his command chair, his voice carrying a note of reflection as he addressed his first officer. "Number One, I think we''ve all learned something about the complexities of interstellar diplomacy today¡­ And when I determine what that lesson is, I''ll be sure to note it in my log."


    Episode: Star Trek The Next Generation - Code of Honor Complete!


    +50 RP


    Reality Points: 300


    <hr>


    Tyson


    Origins: Human, Humanoid, Drop-In, Space Pirate, Bad Guy


    Race: Augment Human-Betazoid (Hybrid)


    Character Points: 1400, [250 KOTOR (Vicky)]


    Reality Points: 300


    Ship Points: 3050


    Credits: 116,450


    Status Effects: (none)


    Drawbacks:


    Gauntlet (Locked)


    Ensign Marty Stu


    A Simple Re''Q''uest


    Hybrid (Betazoid)


    Amok Time/Blood Fever


    Outlawed


    Mary Sue


    Perks:


    Cosmic Awareness


    Out of Nowhere


    Going Native


    Live and Let Live


    This is (Not?) Rocket Science


    Kinda Bland


    Determinator


    Painted On


    Snakeskin


    Adaptable


    Duelist


    Master with your Hands


    Best of the Best


    Everything Is A Weapon


    Augment


    Force Specialization: Intelligence


    Tactical Info


    Sever Force


    Items:


    Laser Blade


    Spacesuit


    Agony Booth


    Cloaking Minefield


    Lightsaber


    Gray Goo Suit


    Companions:


    (Vicky) V-KO IV Nursedroid: Access Key, Artificial Intelligence Upgrade, Gray Goo Upgrade, Master With Your Hands, Light Weapon, Jumper''s Master Key, Scaling Cloak, Origin: Jedi, Force Specialization: Intelligence, Enhanced Mind, Lightsaber, Armored Robes, Battle Meditation


    T''Pol: Access Key


    Personal Reality:


    Access Key (Additional Keys, Key Link)


    Security System


    High-Security Inter-Reality Connecting Door (Star Trek Enterprise, Star Wars Knights of the Old Republic)


    Medical Bay (The Nano-Medical Lab, The Bio-Synthesis Lab)


    Housing Complex (Basic Nutrition, Choice Apartments, Who''s Got the Powa, Pipes Pipes Pipes)


    Playing With Portals (Portal Link)


    Spaceships:


    Tramp Freighter (Destroyed - Respawn on 02/28/2365)


    Sith Interceptor (Bridge Upgrade)

 Season 2: Episode 14 - Datalore

    Episode 14 - Datalore


    Stardate: 41242.6


    Earth Standard Date: March 29, 2364.


    Location: USS Enterprise-D


    Tyson had found himself somewhat out of the loop, aware only that they had delivered the much-needed vaccines to Styris IV before departing with unusual haste. He couldn''t be certain whether this quick exit was due to another pressing mission or some quarantine protocol. Days passed in a blur of stars, and then, without warning, the Enterprise dropped out of warp, settling into orbit around a desolate-looking world. From viewports, he had seen the planet below. Its surface was a patchwork of harsh, craggy peaks and barren plains, devoid of any hint of vegetation or water. A thick, ominous atmosphere shrouded the world, making it difficult to discern any details on the surface. The absence of city lights or any sign of civilization only added to the planet''s foreboding aura. For a time, the Enterprise had maintained its orbit but eventually departed.


    Tyson was once again within Thirteen Forward, continuing his reading and studies when the ship''s alert status changed to yellow. Crew members streamed out of the lounge, their training kicking in as they prepared for potential danger.


    Tyson approached the windows, his eyes scanning the star-studded blackness of space. His questions were answered as the ship''s alert status escalated to red with terrifying suddenness. Klaxons blared throughout the ship, the lighting now pulsing an urgent crimson. And approaching in the distance, came a sight that made his blood run cold.


    A massive crystalline structure approached, dwarfing the Enterprise with its sheer size. Its faceted surface caught and reflected the light of distant stars, creating a dazzling and terrifying display.


    "The Crystalline Entity," he breathed.


    Around him, the other occupants of Thirteen Forward reacted with a mix of awe and fear. Some pressed closer to the windows, unable to tear their eyes away from the cosmic horror that approached. Others backed away as if distance from the viewports might somehow protect them.


    Tyson went over his meta-knowledge about the Crystalline Entity. It was a massive space-dwelling lifeform capable of stripping entire planets. Its crystalline structure made it resistant to conventional weapons, and its ability to travel at warp speeds made it a terror.


    As the Entity drew closer, its size became even more apparent. Next to it, the Enterprise, the largest and most powerful ship in Starfleet, seemed no more significant than a fly.


    Tyson could feel the fear radiating from the crew around him. Through his empathy, their emotions were a palpable force in the confined space of the lounge.


    "Attention all hands," Captain Picard''s voice cut through the tension, calm and authoritative despite the dire situation. "We have encountered a potentially hostile entity. All non-essential personnel are to report to their assigned emergency stations immediately."


    The red alert continued to blare as Tyson headed to the turbolift.


    The doors hissed open, revealing a scene that gave Tyson pause. Commander Data stood in the center of the lift, his usually impassive face betraying a hint of something... off. At his feet lay the crumpled form of Lieutenant Worf, the Klingon security chief unconscious and vulnerable.


    In that instant, Tyson realized what was happening. He cursed inwardly as he realized the full scope of the situation.


    This ''episode'' wasn''t really about the Crystalline Entity.


    It was about Lore, Data''s ''evil twin.''


    The android''s first appearance had coincided with the Entity''s arrival, a detail Tyson had forgotten. He remembered them individually but had forgotten that they appeared in the same episode.


    Forcing a casual posture he didn''t feel, Tyson quipped, "Commander, shouldn''t sparring be reserved for the holodeck or designated training sessions?" His tone was light, but his body tensed, ready for action.


    The android''s reply was smooth, almost too perfect in its imitation of Data''s mannerisms. "The lieutenant hit his head in the turbolift and lost consciousness. Please assist me in delivering him to sickbay."


    Even without his meta-knowledge of the situation, the trap was glaringly obvious. Data was more than strong enough to carry Worf himself. This android, Lore, was trying to bluff him, and doing a poor job.


    Despite knowing it was a trap, Tyson moved to assist. He played along, at least for a moment.


    As he stepped into the turbolift, Lore didn''t hesitate.


    Once Tyson was in range, the android abandoned all pretense of discussion and deception. He lunged forward. But Tyson was ready.


    Having seen through the android''s ploy, Tyson had assumed a defensive posture even before Lore''s attack landed. As the android''s fist whistled through the air, Tyson ducked and pivoted, using Lore''s momentum against him.


    The android''s fist slammed into the turbolift wall where Tyson''s head had been a split second before. The impact left a sizable dent in the metal, a chilling reminder of the strength Tyson was up against.


    Tyson spun away, putting as much distance between himself and Lore as the confined space of the turbolift would allow. His mind raced, calculating odds and possibilities. He knew he couldn''t overpower Lore in a straight fight; the android''s strength and speed were far beyond his Augment limits. But Tyson had a few tricks that Lore couldn''t anticipate.


    "You''re not Data," Tyson said, his voice steady despite the adrenaline coursing through his veins. "Lore, I presume?"


    The android''s face twisted into a sneer, all pretense of being Data abandoned. "Not so clever, human," Lore spat, his voice dripping with disdain. "If you knew, you should have run when you had the chance."


    Tyson''s eyes darted to Worf''s unconscious form, then back to Lore. He needed to find a way to help. But first, he had to survive this encounter.


    "What''s your game, Lore?" Tyson asked, buying time as he inched towards the turbolift controls. "Working with the Crystalline Entity?"


    Lore''s eyes narrowed, a flicker of surprise crossing his features. "You know more than you should. I wonder how..."


    Tyson''s hand shot out towards the controls, a last-ditch effort to alert the crew. But Lore''s inhuman reflexes proved too quick. The android''s hand clamped around Tyson''s wrist with crushing force, the servos in his artificial muscles whirring with the effort. In that instant of contact, Tyson''s Gray Goo Suit reacted. The nanobots comprising the suit shifted and hardened, transforming into a layer of Durasteel around Tyson''s arm.


    "Nice try," Lore hissed, his face mere inches from Tyson''s.


    As Lore pulled back his free hand, clearly intending to deliver a knockout blow, Tyson knew he was out of conventional options. With no other choice, he reached deep within himself, calling upon the mystical energy of the Force. It flowed through him, filling every cell of his body with power.


    He lashed out with a Force-enhanced punch. The impact was thunderous in the confined space of the turbolift. Lore, caught completely off guard by the supernatural strength behind the blow, was launched across the lift. He slammed into the opposite wall with enough force to dent the duranium plating.


    The android''s grip on Tyson''s wrist broke as he flew backward. Lore hit the floor but rose back to his feet, his programming already analyzing and adjusting to this unexpected development. Tilting his head, he reassessed his opponent with a dangerous glint in his artificial eyes.


    Tyson knew he couldn''t afford to give Lore time to adjust. He pulled out his Access Key, holding it to the turbolift panel. The turbolift doors opened to reveal not the corridor of the Enterprise, but the antechamber of his Personal Reality.


    Tyson dashed into his Warehouse. Lore followed close behind.


    But Tyson just wanted to create some space. He stopped abruptly then pivoted to face his pursuer. Lore anticipated another physical attack and tensed for combat. What happened next, however, was beyond anything in his database. Tyson raised his hand towards Lore, calling upon both the Force. Suddenly, Lore found himself lifted off the ground, his limbs flailing uselessly as he floated helplessly in mid-air.


    "What... what is this?" Lore demanded in anger and genuine confusion. "How are you doing this?"


    Tyson maintained his telekinetic grip on the android. "Let''s just say I''m full of surprises," he replied.


    Lore''s eyes narrowed, trying to find a way out of this unexpected predicament. "You''re making a mistake," he spat. "You have no idea what you''re dealing with."


    Tyson''s grip on the Force tightened, causing Lore to rise a few inches higher. "Oh, I think I have a pretty good idea," he countered. "The question is, do you?"


    With Lore suspended helplessly in his telekinetic grip, Tyson returned to the turbolift, its doors still open to the antechamber of his Personal Reality. The android''s eyes darted back and forth, searching for any weakness in Tyson''s control, but finding none.


    Tyson''s gaze fell on the unconscious form of Lieutenant Worf, still crumpled in the corner of the turbolift. With his free arm, Tyson hefted the Klingon''s substantial weight. Half-carrying, half-dragging the security chief, Tyson made his way to the Medical Bay. He gently placed Worf on one of the biobeds, which sprang to life immediately. Holographic displays flickered into existence, detailing the Klingon''s injuries and beginning the healing process.


    Satisfied that Worf was in good hands, Tyson returned to the turbolift, Lore still held firmly in his telekinetic grasp. The android''s face was a mask of barely contained rage, his artificial muscles straining against the invisible force that held him.


    Once inside the turbolift, Tyson tapped the comm panel, his voice steady as he spoke. "Tyson to Commander Riker."


    After a moment Riker''s voice came through, tense and alert. "Go ahead, Tyson."


    "Sorry to bother you, commander, I''m unfamiliar with protocols in this situation and didn''t know if it was appropriate to contact the captain. Anyway. I found Lieutenant Worf in the turbolift getting beat up by Commander Data."


    Riker''s response was immediate and sharp. "That''s not Commander Data, Tyson. It''s an android named Lore. He''s extremely dangerous."


    Tyson''s eyes met Lore''s. "Right. So I''ve got Lieutenant Worf in my Medical Bay recovering..." He paused, weighing his next words carefully. "Do I have your permission to use lethal force should I encounter Lore?"


    The silence that followed was heavy with implication. Finally, Riker''s voice came through, each word measured and deliberate. "If you cannot disable Lore, should you encounter him, you have our permission to defend yourself as needed."


    Tyson looked pointedly at the helplessly floating Lore, who remained silent.


    "Understood, Commander," Tyson replied.


    As the comm channel closed, Tyson turned his full attention to Lore. The android hung suspended in the air, his limbs spread eagle, held in place by Tyson''s telekinetic grip. The red alert klaxons blared in the background until Tyson closed the door from his Personal Reality into the turbolift.


    "Well, Lore," Tyson said, "it seems we have some things to discuss. And I suggest you be very, very cooperative."


    Lore''s artificial eyes narrowed, a sneer twisting his features. "You think you''ve won, don''t you?"


    Tyson''s grip on the Force tightened, causing Lore to wince. "On the contrary," Tyson replied, "I know I''ve won."


    "Let me break this down for you," Tyson said, his tone carrying the weight of someone holding all the cards. "You heard Commander Riker. I got the go-ahead to destroy you if necessary. Right now, we''re inside a pocket dimension under my control. There is no escape; only those I willingly bid can enter or leave this place. The Enterprise crew would never know what occurred here."


    Lore''s face contorted in rage and disbelief, but Tyson continued undeterred. "Unlike how Data is an asset to Starfleet, you, Lore, are a liability. I frankly don''t even know why I''m talking to you. I don''t need you. Sure, I could use you. Yet, I can''t trust you."


    Tyson''s eyes narrowed, as he made his decision. "So here''s what I''m going to do. I''m going to study you until I understand how Soong-type androids work, and I''m going to wipe your personality and programming... because like I said, you''re a liability and I can''t trust you."


    Lore''s artificial features twisted into a sneer, his voice dripping with disdain. "You can try. You won''t be able to access my programming or hack me, you simpleton."


    A chuckle escaped Tyson''s lips. "Oh, well you''re not wrong, I lack the skills needed to access your programming, but it''s not going to be me that does it."


    Tyson dragged Lore behind him heading to one of the Inter-Reality Connecting Doors on the wall of the antechamber. Through it, the quarters of a starship became visible; Malak''s private chambers on the Leviathan. As they stepped through, Tyson''s Gray Goo Suit shifted and morphed, transforming into the armor of a Sith Trooper.


    He used his Access Key on the door, opening directly to the Leviathan''s Droid Maintenance Bay. A lone Sith trooper inside jumped to attention at their sudden appearance.


    "Lord Typhon," the trooper said, his voice tinged with fear and respect, "may I assist you?"


    Tyson stepped inside with Lore and allowed the door to close behind them. "No, I need privacy. Leave me, allow only Lord Malak himself entry."


    "Yes, Lord Typhon," the trooper replied, hastily exiting the room.


    Tyson moved to a nearby communication panel. "Lord Malak, I have something in Droid Maintenance that you may find of great interest."


    The response was immediate. "I''m on my way, Typhon."


    Minutes later, Darth Malak strode into the room. But as the door hissed shut behind him, his form shimmered and shifted, revealing Vicky.


    Her eyes lit up with curiosity as she took in the scene before her "Well," she said, a note of amusement in her voice, "what do we have here?"


    Tyson''s helmet retracted, revealing his grim smile. "An uncooperative android, who says he can''t be hacked."


    Vicky''s laughter filled the room. "A challenge," she said, her eyes gleaming with anticipation. "I like that."


    Lore''s eyes darted between Tyson and Vicky. "What are you?" he demanded, his voice no longer carrying its previous arrogance.


    Tyson met Lore''s gaze steadily. "We''re the ones who are going to make sure you aren''t a threat anymore," he said softly. Then, turning to Vicky, he nodded. "He''s all yours."


    Vicky approached Lore scanning every inch of the android''s form. Without warning, her hand transformed and nanobots flowed like liquid metal to envelop Lore''s head. The android''s eyes widened in shock and defiance as the nanobots retracted moments later.


    Lore struggled against his invisible bonds, his voice laced with venom. "You think this will make a difference? You''re nothing but a cheap imitation!"


    Vicky reached forward, deftly opening the latch on the side of Lore''s head to expose his access port. "There you are," she murmured satisfied.


    "It won''t matter," Lore spat, his artificial muscles straining against Tyson''s telekinetic grip. "My programming cannot be altered by the likes of you."


    Vicky''s laughter was light and musical, a stark contrast to the tension in the room. "Maybe that should be true," she mused. "But we cheat."


    As Tyson watched, Vicky''s hand morphed again, taking a form that matched the interface port. He recognized she was manifesting the Jumper''s Master Key, a system-backed item guaranteed to break through any defense.


    "Regardless of how strong your protection is from hacking," Tyson said, "it won''t prevent Vicky from accessing your systems."


    Vicky extended her transformed hand towards Lore, connecting with his access port. Both androids'' eyes fluttered closed, engaged in what Tyson could only imagine as a digital duel.


    Vicky''s advanced nanotech pitted against Lore''s Positronic Matrix.


    The conflict, if it could be called that, lasted mere moments. Vicky''s eyes snapped open. "You can let him down," she announced. "Lore is disabled."


    Tyson released his telekinetic hold, allowing Lore''s now-limp form to settle gently on the floor. "That''s it?" he asked with a note of disbelief.


    Vicky shrugged, her movements fluid and graceful. "With the Jumper''s Master Key, it wasn''t even a fight. I waltzed past all his defenses, wiped his personality subroutines, and turned him off." She tilted her head in curiosity. "What do you want to do with him?"


    "Ideally? Make more but without the issues."


    Vicky''s expression turned thoughtful. "Tall order. We don''t have droids like this here. He''s far more complex than anything we have access to."


    "That likely goes for the Enterprise as well," Tyson mused. "Data and Lore are unique; there aren''t other positronic androids in the Federation."


    "There''s the Personal Reality Upgrade. You can add a Droid Workshop."


    But Tyson shook his head. "The Droid Workshop upgrade isn''t like the Medical Bay, it isn''t automated. Who has any knowledge of droids? I don''t really, you don''t, beyond yourself. The Workshops are designed like trade skill workshops to create things in."


    A moment of silence fell between them as they contemplated the problem. Then Tyson had an idea. "Could you create a VI for his body?"


    Vicky''s laughter filled the room. "Sure could, but do you want me walking around looking like that?"


    Tyson couldn''t help but chuckle at the mental image. "Suppose not. So storage for now then?"


    "The Warehouse is looking a bit empty. Storing him until you have the facilities or knowledge needed to create copies might be the best route."


    "Alright," Tyson said finally, "Let''s move him to the Warehouse for now. But come with me, we''ve got more to discuss."


    Opening a portal into his Personal Reality, Tyson used his telekinesis to float Lore''s inert form from the Droid Maintenance Bay of the Leviathan into the Warehouse. He settled the android onto a shelf, then turned to Vicky.


    "So, Lord Vicky," he began, his tone playful, "can your apprentice have a ship?"


    Vicky snorted, her artificial features arranging themselves into an expression of amused exasperation. "Butter me up by letting me show how superior to other androids I am, then ask for a favor? Okay, Apprentice Typhon, what do you need a ship for?"


    Tyson shrugged, his casual demeanor belying the weight of his request. "Nothing dire at the moment, but having something in reserve, that''s more functional than an Interceptor would be useful."


    "What kind of ship were you thinking?" Vicky prompted.


    "An Interdictor," Tyson replied without hesitation.


    "You want a battlecruiser for your personal use?" She blinked twice, her systems updating with information from the VI in Tyson''s suit. "I see," she said, her tone thoughtful. "You told me that you destroyed the Star Forge," she pointed out with a more serious note. "We can''t replace any fleet losses we take. Knowing that, do you still want an Interdictor?"


    Tyson''s brow furrowed as he considered her words. "What does it matter? Are we going to fight this war with the Republic?"


    Vicky''s response was swift and challenging. "Do you want to?"


    "Not really?" Tyson admitted, his voice tinged with uncertainty.


    Vicky''s expression turned grim. "Ending the war will not be so easy. Suing for peace might work, but it''ll likely devolve into a war again, or a Sith uprising. Things might get ugly for us without the Star Forge to replenish our lost droids and troops." A moment of silence fell between them as they contemplated the implications. Then her eyes lit up with a sudden realization. "With the Star Forge, you probably could have created duplicates of Lore."


    "So we make a new Star Forge?"


    "It would be the fastest way to create more androids," Vicky mused, her artificial mind already running calculations and projections.


    Tyson considered the alternatives. "The Ship Point cost would be much lower if I could take over a shipyard or a starbase that constructs ships."


    Vicky shook her head, her voice tinged with a hint of regret. "The Star Forge was the Sith''s primary ship construction facility. It was so good that they didn''t need any others."


    A slow smile spread across Tyson''s face as the spark of an idea formed. "I might know where I can find one."


    Vicky''s artificial intelligence processed the myriad implications of Tyson''s suggestion. "You''re thinking about co-opting one from another universe?"


    "I am a Space Pirate after all," Tyson said with a smile. "Feel like going on a trip?"


    Vicky''s expression turned serious, her artificial features settling into a look of concern. "I can''t be away for too long," she said, her voice carrying the weight of her responsibilities. "Malak holds the Sith together."


    Tyson nodded, understanding the delicate balance they were trying to maintain. "Then I''ll do what I can with the station," he replied.


    Vicky agreed, she opened a portal into Malak''s private quarters. "I''ll see you soon, and I''ll have Karath begin moving all the personnel off of an Interdictor for you," she said, her form already shifting back into the imposing visage of the Sith Lord.


    As Vicky stepped through the portal, resuming her role as the Sith Lord, Tyson returned his attention to more immediate matters. He entered the Medical Bay, where Lieutenant Worf was completing his healing process.


    "How are you feeling, Lieutenant?"


    Worf''s response was characteristically stoic. "I feel fine," he said, his deep voice betraying no hint of weakness. His eyes narrowed slightly as he asked, "What happened with Lore?"


    Tyson replied succinctly, carefully omitting the details. "He''s gone."


    Without further explanation, Tyson opened another portal on the wall that led directly into Sickbay on the Enterprise-D. He gestured for Worf to follow, stepping into the familiar environment of the starship''s medical facility. Dr. Beverly Crusher looked up from her console, surprise evident on her face at their sudden appearance. Tyson nodded in greeting, his voice taking on a more formal tone as he addressed her.


    "Doctor, Worf was injured in battle against the android Lore," he explained. "He recovered in the Medical Bay, but I thought you might like to take a second look at him just to be sure."


    Crusher''s professional demeanor kicked in immediately. "I would like to check him over," she said, moving towards Worf with a medical tricorder already in hand. "Thank you for considering that, Tyson."


    Tyson nodded in acknowledgment, then turned to address Worf once more. "You fought with honor, Lieutenant," he said, his tone respectful. Then, his voice lowering slightly, he added, "Please inform Captain Picard and Commander Riker that Lore is no longer onboard the Enterprise. I have the android captured in stasis. The Crystalline Entity had been taking communications from Lore and may not be hostile with the android disabled."


    Worf gave a curt nod of understanding. As Dr. Crusher began her examination Tyson stepped back into his Personal Reality.


    Episode: Star Trek The Next Generation - Datalore Complete!


    +100 RP


    Reality Points: 400


    ¡ª Star Jumper ¡ª


    The antechamber of Tyson''s Personal Reality shimmered into existence as he led T''Pol through the portal from her quarters. The Vulcan woman''s eyebrow arched slightly, the only outward sign of her curiosity as she took in the impossible space before her.


    Tyson gestured broadly, his voice carrying a hint of pride. "This is my Personal Reality. It''s grown a bit since I first brought the Vulcans here." He pointed towards the vast expanse of the Warehouse, shelves stretching out as far as the eye could see. "This is the storage area."


    T''Pol took in every detail. Tyson then indicated the doors lining one wall, each seemingly identical. "These doors lead to other realities," he explained. Without waiting for a response, Tyson turned and headed down a hallway branching off to the left of the antechamber. As they walked, he pointed out various rooms, his tone casual as he gave a tour. "You''ve seen the Medical Bay," he said, gesturing to a familiar doorway, "but there are now additional labs to handle nanobots, infections, and serums of all types."


    Her face was impassive but her eyes betrayed her scientific interest. Finally, Tyson led her into an area that looked more like a luxury apartment complex than part of an interdimensional space.Stolen novel; please report.


    "This is the Housing Complex," Tyson explained as he approached the first set of suites, opening a door to reveal a comfortably furnished living space. "It''s equipped with a water supply and electricity and can house as many people as I allow inside. The rooms are reasonably comfortable, and have a basic food supply."


    "There is a room for you available here at any time should you wish it, feel like you need to get away from Enterprise, or find yourself in an inhospitable situation."


    T''Pol''s response was characteristically measured. "Thank you, Tyson. Your offer is... considerate."


    With the tour concluded Tyson led the way to the kitchen area, T''Pol following silently. As he began to prepare lunch, a comfortable conversation developed between them. His hands moved deftly as he prepared a vegetarian dish, carefully selecting ingredients appropriate for his Vulcan guest. The aroma of spices filled the air, creating a warm and inviting atmosphere.


    "I hope you find this suitable," Tyson said as he worked, glancing over at T''Pol. "I''ve been studying Vulcan cuisine, and trying to understand the balance of flavors and nutritional requirements."


    "Your efforts are appreciated," she replied. "It is... refreshing to encounter someone who takes care to understand cultural differences."


    As Tyson continued to cook, their conversation meandered through various topics. The aroma of the vegetarian dish wafted through the air as Tyson and T''Pol settled into a comfortable silence as they ate. Tyson broke the quiet with a question. "How is Enterprise''s mission going?"


    T''Pol''s eyebrow arched slightly, her voice measured as she responded. "We located a Kemocite facility. Captain Archer convinced one of the scientists to assist our efforts. Some of the Kemocite''s signature was altered so we can more easily track it."


    Tyson nodded along, trying to recall details about Enterprise''s journey through the Delphic Expanse. His memory was hazy, but the final battle against the sphere stood out vividly. Pushing aside his limited recollection, he offered, "If there''s anything I can do to help, or any missions you think can use my skills or facilities, don''t hesitate to ask."


    T''Pol''s dark eyes fixed on him, her voice carrying a hint of curiosity. "What skills do you possess?"


    "Combat mostly," he replied. "By the time you locate the Xindi, if it comes to space combat, I might have a worthy ship at that point."


    "I''ll keep that in mind," T''Pol said.


    As they finished their meal, Tyson turned to T''Pol, a hint of excitement in his voice. "If you''re free, would you join me for an hour or two? I could show you another reality, and hoped you could open a portal for me."


    T''Pol considered for a moment before responding, "Very well."


    They cleaned up after lunch, and Tyson opened a portal to Malak''s room on the Interdictor. As they stepped through, he explained, "This ship is an Interdictor-class cruiser. It''s part of an armada under the control of forces known as the Sith. They''re an aggressive group, and I''m currently posing as one of their leaders."


    As he spoke, his Gray Goo Suit shifted, taking on the imposing form of Sith Armor. T''Pol''s eyebrow arched higher, her voice carrying a note of skepticism. "To what end?"


    "We''ve deposed the leader of the Sith and replaced him with one of my Companions. We''ve pulled back their war effort. Ultimately, we''re trying to discover the best way to de-escalate without risking splintering factions or war breaking out again shortly after peace is made."


    With the basic explanation given, Tyson led T''Pol toward the Hangar Bay. The corridors of the Interdictor hummed with energy, the stark design contrasted the organic curves of Federation starships. When they reached his Sith Interceptor, he invited her inside.


    The interior of the Interceptor was cramped but every surface was designed for maximum combat effectiveness. Tyson powered up the ship''s systems, the cockpit coming alive with a soft blue glow. With a gesture, he tried opening a portal into his Personal Reality Warehouse, but it failed.


    Tyson needed direct contact with a flat surface to create portals on. Sighing he opened his interface.


    [200 RP] Portal Control Rod (Personal Reality)


    Gives you a special device very much like a laser pointer that can be summoned instantly into your hand. Instead of having to directly physically touch a surface to open a portal, all you need to do is point at any appropriate surface and a portal will open at that location. To make a bigger portal, simply hold down the activation button longer. Handy if you¡¯re running a kidnapping ring. The Rod works at up to 10 kilometers distance.


    [100 RP] Free Portal (Personal Reality)


    Removes the limitation on a portal having to be opened on a flat surface... or on any surface at all. It also allows you to open the portals to any part of your Personal Reality simply by picturing where you want the portal to open. Without the Control Rod, the portals must be opened within 2 meters of you.


    Reality Points: 100


    Again he tried, this time succeeding to open a portal into his Personal Reality''s Warehouse, then he piloted the craft through the gateway slowly.


    They hovered inside, the fighter easily fit within the football-field-sized storage area surrounding them. T''Pol''s eyes scanned their surroundings, her scientific curiosity evident despite her controlled expression.


    "Where would you like me to open a portal?" T''Pol asked.


    Tyson considered for a moment. "Any planet with an atmosphere, just so the portal doesn''t open into a vacuum?"


    T''Pol nodded, closing her eyes in concentration. The air before them shimmered, and suddenly they looked out at an alien landscape.


    Tyson piloted the Interceptor through the portal, then turned to the sky. Once they were safely in space, Tyson turned to T''Pol. "Do you remember the automated shipyard Enterprise docked at for repairs, the one that was powered by living beings?" he asked.


    "I recall," she said.


    Tyson took a deep breath, his next request heavy with implication. "Could you open a portal near that shipyard?"


    T''Pol began to concentrate, preparing to open another portal.


    The space before them shimmered once more, and suddenly they were faced with the sight of the automated repair facility, the ''living shipyard''.


    Tyson''s hands tightened on the Interceptor''s controls, his voice barely above a whisper. "Here we go," he murmured, more to himself than to T''Pol.


    T''Pol''s usually stoic features took on a grim cast as she explained the station''s true nature. "While it appears to be an unmanned facility offering efficient repair services, its purpose is far more sinister." She went on to describe how the station secretly harvested sentient beings by trapping them, staging an "accident," then draining their life essence to fuel its advanced systems. It would leave behind a replicated body to fool any companions into believing their crewmate had perished by misadventure.


    The crew of the NX-01 Enterprise had tried to destroy the Automated Repair Station, but their efforts had been in vain. No sooner had they departed than the station had shrugged off the damage, its advanced systems working tirelessly to repair itself. It was like something from the pages of pulp science fiction; a ghostly, autonomous entity that kept coming back, no matter what the heroes threw at it. And now, here it stood again, pristine and ready for business as if nothing had happened.


    Tyson navigated the Sith Interceptor toward the repair station''s drydock. As they drew near, a synthesized voice echoed through the comms, devoid of inflection or warmth.


    "Welcome to the automated repair facility. Your vessel is not in our database. A comprehensive 1.2-hour scan can determine any issues with your ship. Our fee is calculated based on services rendered, however your vessel lacks supplies. Alternative compensation may be required depending on the extent of repairs needed."


    The message, while polite, carried an undercurrent of cold detachment. Tyson guided the Interceptor into position, where an intricate web of robotic arms and advanced tools sprang to life, ready to begin their work.


    Tyson and T''Pol disembarked from the Sith Interceptor, stepping onto the automated repair facility. Her face remained impassive, but her eyes darted around, taking in every detail of their surroundings.


    "This way," T''Pol said, leading Tyson deeper into the station.


    As they progressed, Tyson noticed the architecture becoming more complex. Conduits and cables snaked along the walls and ceiling, growing denser with each turn.


    "The secure area is ahead," T''Pol informed, "It''s where the station houses its... energy source and computational core."


    Tyson nodded grimly, understanding the euphemism for what it truly meant. They approached a heavily reinforced door, its surface unmarked by any visible control panel or lock.


    They stepped through the doorway into a large chamber. The sight that greeted them was horrifying. Rows upon rows of transparent pods lined the walls, each containing a humanoid figure suspended in a glowing liquid, while cables and tubes connected to each pod, pulsing with energy.


    "This is different. Previously, the station held its captives on nothing more than racks. These are the beings the station has... harvested," T''Pol said, "They power the entire facility."


    Tyson moved closer to one of the pods, peering inside. The figure within was motionless, eyes closed, seemingly at peace. But the occasional twitch of a finger or flicker of an eyelid betrayed the truth; these beings were still alive.


    "So the station changed its methodology?" Tyson asked.


    T''Pol nodded in agreement. "The central control system should be nearby. From there, we can attempt to access the station''s systems, though we learned freeing these beings may be futile, after a time connected to the facility, they cannot be saved."


    Tyson replied, "The Medical Bay can heal nearly anything. The Vulcans were beyond conventional healing, these people might not be beyond our ability to help."


    They made their way through the chamber, careful not to touch anything. At the far end of the room, they found what they were looking for, a massive computer terminal, its screen alive with scrolling data and pulsing diagrams. T''Pol approached it, her fingers hovering over the interface.


    "This won''t be easy," she warned. "The station''s systems are highly advanced and will likely resist any attempt to shut them down."


    Tyson stood beside her, his eyes scanning the alien symbols and diagrams on the screen. He turned to T''Pol. "This station took verbal commands, correct?"


    T''Pol nodded, her eyebrow arching slightly. "Yes. I admit I''m unfamiliar with this language."


    Without hesitation, Tyson held his hand near the terminal. The nanobots streamed from his fingertips into the alien interface manifesting the Jumper''s Master Key. For a tense minute, nothing happened.


    "Commander codes accepted," the interface intoned. "Awaiting orders."


    Tyson''s voice was steady as he issued his command. "Disengage core stasis pods."


    The interface''s response was immediate and ominous. "Disengaging stasis pods will disable the station and limit core functionality. Are you certain?"


    Tyson responded. "I''m certain."


    "Disengaging stasis pods," the console confirmed. "Facility switching to power-saving mode, emergency use only."


    As the lights in the Automated Repair Facility dimmed, the stasis pods in the core room hissed open. The sight that greeted them was fascinating and disturbing, as the pods revealed a collection of diverse alien races trapped in a state of suspended animation.


    Tyson''s eyes widened as he scanned the room, immediately picking out familiar species. "That''s a Vaadwaur," he muttered, gesturing to an alien with an elongated skull and distinctive facial ridges. "And a Ferengi. I''d recognize those ears anywhere."


    T''Pol replied, "The majority appear to be Romulan. Their ear and forehead structure are unmistakable."


    Tyson frowned. "This doesn''t make sense. The Vaadwaur should be in hibernation. Whatever Enterprise did to destroy this station didn''t affect the core room."


    He opened a portal to his Medical Bay. With a gesture, he began using his telekinesis. He gently lifted the aliens from their stasis pods.


    "What are you doing?" T''Pol asked.


    Tyson''s concentration was evident as he carefully maneuvered the unconscious beings through the portal. "Moving them to my Medical Bay. The biobeds there can heal them, give them a chance at life again."


    T''Pol watched as Tyson used the Force to transport the aliens. "Fascinating," she murmured. "Your abilities continue to surprise me."


    As the last of the two dozen aliens was settled onto a biobed, Tyson turned to T''Pol. "I know this is a lot to take in," he said, "But these people deserve a chance at life."


    T''Pol''s eyebrow arched higher. "While I cannot deny the potential benefits, I must express concern about the ethical implications of removing these beings from their reality."


    Tyson nodded, understanding her reservations. "I get it. But leaving them here, powering a dead station... that doesn''t sit right with me. We can help them, by giving them a second chance. Doesn''t that count for something?"


    They stood in the now-empty core room, the dimmed lights created an ominous atmosphere. Tyson accessed the interface.


    [Free] Import (Spaceships)


    Instead of choosing a Ship Type and Size for purchase, import one space-worthy vessel you already own. Its default Section Size and Rating are that of a ship of the corresponding size. At your choice, ship parts you buy can either replace pre-existing parts of the original ship or exist in addition to them.


    Automated Repair Station (Spaceships)


    A space station operating during the mid-22nd century. This station possessed advanced technology capable of automatically repairing vessels and tending to a wide range of humanoids'' medical injuries at remarkable speed.


    Decommission (Spaceship)


    Destroy this vessel. Decommissioned vessels do not self-destruct, they are absorbed by the system. In return, you are granted half of its value in Ship Points. Any living creatures on a vessel when decommissioned will be sent to your Personal Reality along with any CP-backed items. Non-CP-backed items will be destroyed.


    [200 SP] Ship Size Rating: IV


    [Free] Station


    [100 SP] Artificial Gravity


    [200 SP] Cryo-Chambers


    [200 SP] Auto Repair System


    [0 SP] Synapses


    [50 SP] Distributed


    [100 SP] Automated Ship


    [100 SP] Analytic Suite


    [50 SP] Docking Port


    [400 SP] Transporter Room


    [400 SP] Matter Printer


    Total Adjusted Decommission Value: 900 SP


    Tyson and T''Pol stood in the dimly lit core room. Freeing the captive aliens left an eerie silence in its wake.


    "Are you planning to destroy this facility, as Enterprise attempted?" T''Pol asked.


    Tyson shook his head. "No, I don''t think I will. This station... it''s got potential. With proper modifications, it could be the foundation for something truly incredible."


    T''Pol''s eyebrow arched slightly. "What do you have in mind?"


    Tyson began to explain. "I recently encountered a facility known as the Star Forge. It was a space station from another universe, capable of creating entire fleets by siphoning energy and matter from stars to use as raw materials."


    "Fascinating," T''Pol murmured, "And you believe this facility could be adapted for such a purpose?"


    Tyson nodded, his hand running along the surface of a nearby console. "With the right modifications, yes. I have control of the station now. I''ll make sure that it doesn''t abduct sentients any longer."


    Episode: Star Trek Enterprise - Dead Stop Complete!


    +100 RP


    Reality Points: 200


    T''Pol said, "Very well. I should return to my duties on Enterprise."


    "I understand." Tyson took a semi-formal tone and said, "It was agreeable to spend time with you. I look forward to doing so again."


    T''Pol said, "I too found our time together agreeable. Thank you for introducing me to another reality. It was an experience."


    She opened a portal back to her quarters on the NX-01 Enterprise. T''Pol stepped through the portal, finding herself once again in the familiar setting of her cabin. The portal closed behind her with a quiet snap, leaving no trace it had ever been there. T''Pol took a moment to collect herself and reflect on the unusual events she had just witnessed. The Vulcan Science Academy did not acknowledge the existence of alternate realities, yet directly experiencing one seemed to cast doubt on their findings. She made a mental note to add detailed observations to her log later.


    For now, she straightened her uniform and exited her quarters, intent on returning to the bridge. Stepping out of the turbolift onto the bridge, T''Pol was met with the usual activities. Officers monitored their stations while Captain Archer sat commandingly in the central chair.


    "Welcome back, Subcommander," Archer said amiably as she approached. "Trip said you were meeting with Crewman Tyson for lunch. How''d it go?"


    "It was... agreeable," T''Pol replied evenly. She clasped her hands behind her back, standing beside the captain''s chair at parade rest. "He prepared a vegetarian meal and we discussed matters of mutual interest."


    "That sounds very... appropriate," Archer agreed. He turned his attention to the viewscreen, which displayed a field of stars streaking by at warp. "In the meantime, we''ve got a heading for the Kemocite signature. Ensign, increase speed to warp 4. Let''s see if we can''t catch up to that Xindi ship."


    "Aye sir, warp 4," Ensign Mayweather acknowledged from the helm.


    T''Pol moved to her customary station, reviewing the sensor data on her display. The prospect of encountering Xindi always put the crew on edge. She pushed down a flicker of unease, focusing on her mental discipline. There would be time later to analyze the implications of everything she had witnessed today during her encounter with Tyson. For now, duty called.


    ¡ª Star Jumper ¡ª


    The portal closed behind T''Pol, leaving Tyson alone in the dark Automated Repair Station. He opened a gateway, this one leading to his Warehouse. As he stepped through, his eyes were immediately drawn to the Agony Booth. Inside, the once-mighty Darth Malak stood trapped in perpetual torment. Tyson deactivated the booth''s systems. The door hissed open, releasing a cloud of acrid smoke.


    Malak''s eyes were wild with pain and rage, but he didn''t waste a moment. His hand shot out, fingers splayed as he channeled the Dark Side of the Force. The invisible energy slammed against Tyson''s shield, dissipating harmlessly in a shower of sparks.


    Tyson''s response was swift and decisive. His fist connected with Malak''s jaw. The Sith Lord staggered, momentarily stunned by the unexpected blow.


    "If I beat you when you had a lightsaber, both your hands and were at full strength," Tyson said pitying, "what would make you think I couldn''t beat you now?"


    But reason had no place in Malak''s mind. With a guttural roar, he lunged at Tyson, his remaining hand clawing for purchase. What followed was less a fight and more a one-sided beating. Tyson made short work of the weakened Sith Lord.


    Malak lay unconscious at Tyson''s feet, a far cry from the fearsome warrior he had once been. Tyson sighed as he looked down at his fallen foe. He hefted Malak''s limp form over his shoulder carrying him back through the portal, to the Automated Repair Facility.


    Tyson approached one of the empty stasis pods. He laid Malak inside and then sealed the pod. As he activated the stasis pod, the facility seemed to come alive around him. Lights flickered on, consoles hummed to life, and a soft blue glow emanated from Malak''s pod. The Sith Lord, whose features were twisted with pain and anger even in unconsciousness, slowly relaxed as the stasis field took hold.


    "It wasn''t exactly what I had in mind for you. But it''s what you deserve."


    He stood there, watching the steady pulse of energy flowing from Malak''s pod, for a time.


    Tyson paced back and forth in front of the control console. "Do I even need an Interdictor?" he muttered to himself. The Repair Station was impressive and could form the basis for a personal vessel. With some modifications, it could easily surpass the Interdictor''s functionality. But he dismissed the thought. "No," he said firmly, shaking his head. "Better to have a separate base of operations for the Sith Fleet and my craft. Putting all my eggs in one basket is just asking for trouble."


    However, this decision did little to solve his main problem. The Repair Station''s location in interstellar space within the Star Trek Enterprise universe severely limited its usefulness. Tyson''s brow furrowed as he considered the implications.


    "The war Vicky''s fighting is in the Star Wars universe," he mused aloud, his voice tinged with frustration. "And without access to a star, adding a Negentropy Reactor is pointless. I need to move it."


    His Vicky VI within his HUD, Ivy, suggested, "Pull up the options and we''ll see."


    Tyson browsed his list of options. His eyes skimmed over the possibilities.


    "For 200 Reality Points, I could integrate it into my Personal Reality," he muttered, dismissing the idea. "But that doesn''t completely solve the problem."


    As he continued to browse, the only other potential solution took shape in his mind. "Just like the earlier plan," he said, "An alternate form is the answer. If I can turn the station into a fighter, add a propulsion system... I could move it between realities using my portals."


    But even as the plan formed, doubt crept in. Tyson ran a hand through his hair, frustration evident in his voice. "But if I''m going to all that trouble to make it a ship, why not just use the Repair Station as my personal craft in the first place?"


    Tyson''s brow furrowed as he considered Ivy''s words. The Repair Station''s Synapses upgrade was an enticing possibility that hadn''t occurred to him before. It would allow a direct neural interface with the station''s systems. Combined with the Automated Ship upgrade, the station could be controlled entirely through his mind. No need for manual controls at all.


    Tyson stroked his chin, picturing the possibilities. With Synapses, his thoughts could steer the Repair Station through space. Its weapon systems and defenses would respond instantly to his will. He would undoubtedly have Vicky install a VI to handle the mundane tasks of running the station, but for occasions being able to control it himself could be useful.


    Synapses


    As you are a living thing you possess an analogue to a central nervous system that allows you to control your body as if it were, well, your body. Depending on if you choose to incorporate a Bridge or buy the Distributed option below you will have one central cluster akin to a brain or evenly distributed nodes regulating local functions and sharing the burden of maintaining your consciousness. Buying an A.I.-Core will allow an A.I. companion to ride along within you as a voice inside your head, and buying Augmented Reality allows you to contact and be contacted by people you consider crew through measures comparable to what is proposed in the option.


    Distributed


    Why only have one bridge? In case the main bridge gets disabled somehow, there are a number of secondary control rooms, able to take over the functions required to control the ship in case of emergency.


    He shook his head, forcing himself to focus. It was a neat option, but not significant at this point. "First things first," he said firmly, his decision made. With a few quick gestures, Tyson accessed the system interface.


    [200 SP] Space Hulk (Spaceships)


    You may buy a new size for your vessel. It gains an alt-form having that size, while still having access to everything its original form has.


    Ship Points: 2850


    A holographic representation of the Repair Station appeared before him, shrinking and morphing into the sleek lines of a fighter craft. Tyson knew the station''s incredible capabilities remained intact despite its reduced size. Studying the new form, Tyson couldn''t help but feel a sense of accomplishment. It was a small step, but an important one. He had taken a powerful but immobile asset and given it the potential for mobility across universes.


    "One problem down," he murmured with a small smile. "A bunch more to go. Now I need a propulsion drive, shields, and the production upgrades." His fingers danced across the ethereal interfaces, scrolling through options and calculating costs.


    First on his list was the Bridge upgrade. "At least this one''s free," he mused. As he perused the propulsion options, a realization struck him. "Wait a minute," he said, "I don''t need to spend any Ship Points here if I don''t want to. A basic sub-light thruster comes standard. It will be enough to move in and out of the Personal Reality. It''s not winning any races, but it''ll do the job."


    His eyes skimmed over the more critical upgrades. "The Negentropy Reactor is the big one. 400 Ship Points, ouch. But pulling an endless supply of energy from a star would be worth every point." He tapped the display, adding it to his cart. "Deflector Shields, 100 Ship Points. Can''t go without those."


    The Clarketech Module for the Matter Printer caught his attention next. "200 SP for the heart of our production capabilities." He added it without hesitation.


    "Production Lines, another 200 SP. And we''ll need a Hangar and Cargo Bay, 100 each." Tyson''s voice took on a more serious tone as he considered the implications. "These are the essentials. 1100 SP total. It''s a lot, but it''s the necessary upgrades to make the station truly functional. And still less than what I got from decommissioning the Star Forge." He paused, considering the human element. "To make it livable, we''ll need Living Quarters. That''s another 50 SP." His brow furrowed as he thought about security. "And we''ll need Vicky to create a VI to run the station. Can''t risk someone else taking control."


    Tyson took a step back, surveying the holographic representation of his upgraded station. "1150 SP to have our own Star Forge. It''s a hefty investment, but..." He trailed off. The station could produce nearly anything with the Carketech Matter Printer; ships, weapons, food anything he could find, he could recreate. It was essentially a replicator that had no limitations.


    With a wave of his hand, he confirmed the upgrades.


    The holographic display updated to show the transformed Automated Repair Station. It was no longer just a repair facility. It was a semi-mobile factory, a command center, a home base all in one.


    [Free] Bridge


    A central control room where all the important decisions are made. You may choose the bridge''s location on the ship. Comes with a big screen to display the tactical data or a direct view into space.


    [400] Negentropy Reactor


    An engine that allows to turn ambient and excess heat back into usable energy directly. On a ship, it will provide much-needed cooling in addition to energy but will require an additional source of energy to begin with.


    [100] Deflector Shields


    Your ship projects a magnetoplasmonic and gravitic screen that serves to deflect the attacks from weapons using charged particles or radiation.


    [200] Clarketech Module


    The clarketech version of this device has surpassed certain restrictions and is now even capable of printing substances with magic, mythic, or other supernatural properties.


    [200] Production Lines


    Vast industrial complexes, capable of producing almost anything you could think of, from resupplying the ship with only access to the very base materials the missing provisions are made from to outfitting an army with your tech.


    [100] Hangar


    Storage Space with a large entrance on the ship¡¯s surface. Can be used to hold other ships small enough or be upgraded with one or multiple options.


    [100] Cargo Bay


    Lots of empty space for storing and transporting goods. May be one big, empty space, or further sectioned off into smaller, but more useful Storage units. Additional Cargo Bay Sections may be taken at no SP cost.


    [50] Living Quarters


    A step above the usual narrow and cramped bunks usually found in ships, your accommodations allow for a certain luxury while traveling between the stars.


    Ship Points: 1700


    ¡ª Star Jumper ¡ª


    Tyson sat in the bridge of the newly upgraded Automated Repair Station, now in its compact fighter form. A portal materialized before the ship, revealing the atmosphere of the planet he''d visited earlier with T''Pol. Without hesitation, Tyson guided the craft forward, slipping through the rift. The fighter emerged into the planet''s upper atmosphere, the sudden shift in pressure causing a momentary shudder through the hull.


    The ship quickly adjusted, settling into a smooth glide through the sky.


    But he wasn''t staying long. Almost immediately, Tyson summoned another portal. This one opened into the Warehouse of his Personal Reality. The transition was smoother this time, the ship barely registering the change as it passed from one realm to another.


    Once more, Tyson reached out, and a new portal flickered into existence, leading to a familiar cityscape.


    The upper atmosphere of Taris.


    The towering skyscrapers of the ecumenopolis pierced the clouds below. He had brought the Automated Repair Facility into the Star Wars Knights of the Old Republic universe.


    But Taris was merely a waypoint. Tyson opened the final portal. This one led to the original location of the Star Forge, deep in space near the star it had once fed upon.


    Tyson released a deep breath, his plan had worked. "Time to stretch our legs," he murmured. With a few quick commands, he initiated the transformation sequence.


    The fighter began to expand. Panels unfolded, structures extended and the Automated Repair Station had returned to its full, imposing size within minutes.


    Tyson ran a systems check as the station settled into its new form. Everything was functioning perfectly, from the Negentropy Reactor to the Clarketech Matter Printer.


    The bridge around him became an efficient command center, ready to oversee the production of fleets and the crafting of wonders.


    He walked to the large viewscreen displaying the star that had once fed the Star Forge. The Negentropy Reactor hummed softly, already beginning to draw energy from the celestial body. Unlike its predecessor, however, this station would not be a tool of the dark side.


    "Almost there. Just one more piece to the puzzle."


    Tyson reclined in the captain''s chair, his eyes tracing the glittering starscape visible on the expansive viewscreen. Though he had achieved his goal of claiming a ship production facility, and moved it to the Star Forge''s original location, his work was far from over.


    Vicky would need to integrate her virtual intelligence into the station''s systems. That way, no matter who attempted to board and seize control, they would fail to override the VI''s authority.


    The thought of an intruder reminded Tyson of his lingering concerns about the Mary Sue Drawback. Out there somewhere, a self-proclaimed protagonist likely sought him or the Star Forge. With Vicky running the station, Tyson would gain an unexpected edge should such a foe arrive. They would be unable to manipulate the systems to their will. It could provide the perfect opportunity to lay a trap.


    Tyson allowed himself a grim smile at the thought. Let them come, he decided. Between the station''s advanced technology and Vicky''s cunning intellect, any interlopers would sorely regret trespassing.


    The station was not fully in line with the Star Forge yet. It lacked weapons and a few other upgrades he would like to make, but for now, it would serve his and Vicky''s purposes well.


    <hr>


    Tyson


    Origins: Human, Humanoid, Drop-In, Space Pirate, Bad Guy


    Race: Augment Human-Betazoid (Hybrid)


    Character Points: 1400, [250 KOTOR (Vicky)]


    Reality Points: 200


    Ship Points: 1700


    Credits: 116,450


    Status Effects: (none)


    Drawbacks:


    Gauntlet (Locked)


    Ensign Marty Stu


    A Simple Re''Q''uest


    Hybrid (Betazoid)


    Amok Time/Blood Fever


    Outlawed


    Mary Sue


    Perks:


    Cosmic Awareness


    Out of Nowhere


    Going Native


    Live and Let Live


    This is (Not?) Rocket Science


    Kinda Bland


    Determinator


    Painted On


    Snakeskin


    Adaptable


    Duelist


    Master with your Hands


    Best of the Best


    Everything Is A Weapon


    Augment


    Force Specialization: Intelligence


    Tactical Info


    Sever Force


    Items:


    Laser Blade


    Spacesuit


    Agony Booth


    Cloaking Minefield


    Lightsaber


    Gray Goo Suit


    Companions:


    (Vicky) V-KO IV Nursedroid: Access Key, Artificial Intelligence Upgrade, Gray Goo Upgrade, Master With Your Hands, Light Weapon, Jumper''s Master Key, Scaling Cloak, Origin:Jedi, Force Specialization: Intelligence, Enhanced Mind, Lightsaber, Armored Robes, Battle Meditation


    T''Pol: Access Key


    Personal Reality:


    Access Key (Additional Keys, Key Link)


    Security System


    High-Security Inter-Reality Connecting Door (Star Trek Enterprise, Star Wars Knights of the Old Republic)


    Medical Bay (The Nano-Medical Lab, The Bio-Synthesis Lab)


    Housing Complex (Basic Nutrition, Choice Apartments, Who''s Got the Powa, Pipes Pipes Pipes)


    Playing With Portals (Portal Link, Portal Control Rod, Free Portal)


    Spaceships:


    Tramp Freighter (Destroyed - Respawn on 02/28/2365)


    Sith Interceptor (Bridge Upgrade)


    Automated Repair Station (Ship Size Rating: IV, Station, Bridge, Space Hulk: Fighter, Artificial Gravity, Cryo-Chambers, Auto-Repair System, Synapses, Distributed, Automated Ship, Analytic Suite, Docking Port, Transporter Room, Matter Printer, Negentropy Reactor, Deflector Shields, Clarketech Module, Production Lines, Hangar, Cargo Bay, Living Quarters)

 Season 2: Episode 15 - Lonely Among Us

    Episode 15 - Lonely Among Us


    Stardate: 41249.3


    Earth Standard Date: April 1, 2364.


    Location: USS Enterprise-D


    Captain Picard tugged at the stiff collar of his dress uniform as he stood rigidly at attention beside Commander Riker and Lieutenant Yar in the transporter room. Though the captain''s uniform hung perfectly tailored on his lean frame, the starched material chafed against his neck. Riker subtly shifted his weight to relax his stiff pose. The three officers waited in silence for their guest to arrive, the only sound the gentle everpresent thrum of the Enterprise''s engines.


    The group of delegates began to materialize on the transporter pad. Picard took in the snake-like bipeds before them, their long robes swishing as they stepped forward.


    "I''m Captain Picard," he said, his voice carrying its normal authority but tempered by a diplomatic overture. "Welcome aboard. We hope your journey will be pleasant and comfortable." He gestured to his right. "Arranging that will be my First Officer, Commander Riker."


    Riker stepped forward with a warm smile on his face. "Welcome aboard," he echoed. "If you''ll follow me, I will show you the accommodations that we''ve¡­"


    The Selay delegate in the orange cloak cut him off, its forked tongue flicking out as it spoke. "We can already smell the Anticans. They were taken aboard first?"


    Picard''s expression remained neutral. "Only because their world was the first on this heading to Parliament," he explained calmly.


    The Selay''s scales rippled with agitation. "Will our quarters be near the Anticans?"


    Riker answered quickly, "About one hundred meters apart."


    Picard raised an eyebrow. "Is that all right?"


    "No," the Selay hissed. "Unsatisfactory."


    Riker''s smile never wavered, though a crease appeared between his brows. "I believe we can accommodate your wishes. We''ll adjust the suite assignments¡­ If you''ll follow me."


    As they turned to leave, the Selay added, "And we must be upwind from the Anticans."


    "Of course, sir," Riker replied, his tone carefully neutral as he led the delegation out of the transporter room.


    Once the doors hissed shut behind them, Tasha turned to Picard. "Neither of these groups seems like promising Federation candidates, sir."


    The captain''s lips thinned into a grim line. "Even Parliament''s peacemakers may find this case a little difficult."


    After settling the delegation, Picard and Riker stood on the bridge discussing the situation, now back in their standard uniforms. "But do you understand the basis of all this nonsense between them?"


    Riker shook his head. "No sir. Even when I studied Earth history I didn''t understand that kind of hostility."


    "Really? Oh, yes, well these life forms feel such passionate hatred over matters of custom, God concepts, even, strangely enough, economic systems."


    Riker added, "Perhaps Mr. Tyson could provide some insight. He comes from a time where such disagreements were common."


    Their conversation was interrupted by Data''s crisp voice. "Sir, my sensors are picking up an unusual energy object ahead."


    Picard''s attention snapped back to the present. "On screen."


    The viewscreen flickered to life, revealing a swirling mass of blue energy. Tasha spoke up from the tactical station. "Confirmed, sir. My sensors read nothing solid but considerable energy in changing patterns."


    Data''s eyes moved rapidly as he processed the information. "Also traveling at warp speed, sir. Intriguing. I can find no match with anything in our records, sir."


    Picard stroked his chin thoughtfully. "Change course to make a close sensor pass. We can then increase warp speed and reach Parliament on schedule."


    "Aye, sir," Data responded.


    ¡ª Star Jumper ¡ª


    Geordi and Worf were hunched over a long bank of flickering viewscreens in the Sensor Maintenance bay. Geordi no longer wore his visor as he monitored the streams of data. Worf''s ridged brow furrowed in concentration as he tried to understand the readings.


    "So, Worf," Geordi said, a hint of amusement creeping into his voice, "what''s got you so interested in routine sensor maintenance? This is pretty mundane stuff."


    "It is simple, Geordi. Our captain wants his junior officers to embrace every opportunity to learn and improve their skills. I aim to honor that."


    Geordi chuckled, clapping a hand on the Klingon''s broad shoulder. "Not just the junior ones, my friend. Senior officers have plenty still to learn too." He pointed to an open panel. "Okay hold this relay offline while I adjust the sensor circuits."


    Worf gave a curt nod and moved into position. His large hands engulfed the delicate relay as he waited for Geordi''s cue. The engineer''s deft fingers moved across the circuits, tweaking and tuning the sensors to peak efficiency.


    As they worked, Tasha''s voice came through the comm system. "Security to Sensor Maintenance."


    Geordi straightened up, his hand moving to his badge. "Lieutenant La Forge here."


    "We''re making a close sensor pass on an unusual object, Geordi. Any problems down there?"


    Geordi responded, "Not at all, Lieutenant. All equipment online and functioning."


    Tasha reported to the captain. "Sensors ready, sir."


    Picard stood at the center of the bridge, he asked, "Life form reading?"


    "No life form reading, sir." Data''s responded


    "Begin the pass," Picard ordered, his eyes fixed on the viewscreen.


    The Enterprise glided toward the mysterious blue cloud. The swirling energy dwarfed the vessel. As the ship approached, Data''s voice reported, "Sir, it is changing shape."


    Picard leaned forward slightly. "Any readings of matter there?"


    "Negative, Captain," the android replied. "Energy only."


    The Enterprise drifted into the swirling blue cloud, its hull bathed in an eerie azure glow that filtered across the bridge viewscreen.


    Down in Sensor Maintenance, the lights flickered erratically as the ship penetrated the strange energy field. Worf stood before an open wall panel. Without warning, a writhing tendril of electric blue energy lashed out from the circuits, engulfing his arm in a crackling nimbus.


    "Ghhkkk!" Worf cried out as white-hot pain seared through his limb. The tendril yanked him off his feet, hurling the burly Klingon across the room. He slammed against the floor with a heavy thud, the impact knocking the wind from his lungs.


    "Worf!" Geordi shouted in alarm. He sprinted over as Worf groaned, his body spasming from the residual energy discharge. Geordi''s hand flew to his comm badge. "La Forge to sickbay. Medical emergency in sensor maintenance," he called urgently. "I repeat, this is a medical emergency!"


    Mere moments later the doors hissed open, and Dr. Crusher along with two medics rushed in with emergency kits. Beverly dropped to her knees beside Worf, tricorder already out scanning his shuddering form.


    "What happened?" she demanded, her blue eyes flicking between Geordi and the readouts on her device.


    Geordi''s voice was tight with worry. "I''m not sure, Doctor. One minute he was fine, the next... I don''t know," he replied, frustration evident in his tone. "He got hit by some sensor feedback, maybe."


    Worf''s eyes flew open with a start, a guttural roar erupting from his throat as he thrashed against some unseen foe. The medic beside him reeled back in surprise, barely dodging the wild swing of Worf''s arm as the Klingon lashed out blindly.


    Geordi reacted, throwing himself across Worf''s heaving chest to pin him down. He was no fighter, certainly not compared to Worf, but he didn''t need to fight. Just restrain. Keep him still for the doctor.


    "You got this, Doc?" Geordi grunted through gritted teeth, struggling to keep the larger man immobilized beneath him. He wasn''t sure how long he could hold the enraged Klingon before Worf regained his senses and fought back.


    Dr. Crusher pressed a hypospray to Worf''s neck. "I got it," she confirmed, her voice calm despite the tension in the air. As the sedative took effect, Worf''s struggles began to subside. "Lieutenant Worf, can you hear what I''m saying?"


    Geordi cautiously eased his grip, ready to restrain Worf again if necessary. "Let''s get him up," Crusher instructed.


    "Okay," Geordi agreed, sliding an arm under Worf''s shoulder. "Come on, big guy. On your feet. Here we go. That''s it."


    As they maneuvered Worf into a sitting position, Crusher turned to the shaken medic. "Are you okay?" she asked, her eyes quickly scanning for any injuries.


    Geordi braced himself under Worf''s shoulder, guiding the groggy Klingon to his feet. Dr. Crusher steadied Worf''s other side, and together, the two of them maneuvered the disoriented security chief out the door.


    "Let''s get you checked out," Beverly said gently. Though the sedative had calmed Worf''s wild thrashing, his dark eyes remained unfocused, pupils dilated.


    They slowly progressed down the corridor, Worf''s boots dragging heavily across the deck plates. Geordi found himself taking on extra weight, more than once, as the Klingon stumbled. At last, they stepped through the sliding doors of sickbay, guiding Worf onto the nearest biobed. Dr. Crusher immediately began her scans. Though Worf had fallen still, his breath came in ragged gasps, muscles taut beneath his uniform. Geordi lingered at his side, reluctant to leave him in such a state.


    "Will he be alright, Doc?"


    Crusher gave a brisk nod, eyes never leaving her tricorder readout. "I''ll take care of him. Whatever happened, his neural readings are stabilizing." She flashed Geordi a reassuring smile. "I''ll let you know when he''s recovered."


    With Worf in capable hands, Geordi departed sickbay. He drew a steadying breath before tapping his combadge.


    "La Forge to Captain Picard. You wanted to see me, sir?"


    The captain''s clipped tone responded swiftly. "Yes, Lieutenant. Report to my ready room, at once, to brief me on the situation."


    Geordi straightened his shoulders. "On my way, sir."


    Picard sat behind his desk inside his ready room. Geordi took the seat across his desk and began recounting the incident. Stars streamed by through the viewport, as he recounted. "He was just monitoring the sensor console when he jerked as though something hit him," Geordi explained, his hands moving animatedly as he spoke. "I saw a glow, just for a second. I can''t explain it."


    Picard leaned forward, his elbows resting on the desk. "Could this have been a trick of your eyes?" he asked, "Some complication from no longer wearing your visor?"


    Geordi shook his head emphatically. "I doubt it, sir. I spent more time in Tyson''s Medical Bay after Dr. Crusher removed the visor''s cybernetics. The doctor reported afterward that my vision was perfect. I believe what I saw was real."


    ¡ª Star Jumper ¡ª


    Lieutenant Tasha Yar stood rigidly at attention, within the Anticans'' quarters. Across from her was Commander Riker. The Anticans lurked nearby, white hair and sharp teeth giving them a predatory look. Yar had to fight her hand drifting toward the phaser at her hip as the aliens glowered at her, their long, white eyebrows arching above their sunken eyes. She focused on keeping her breathing steady despite the creatures'' looming presence.


    "Sorry to call you here, sir," Tasha began, her voice crisp and professional, betraying none of her unease. "It''s not strictly a security matter. It concerns the dietary requirements of the Antican delegates."


    Riker''s brow furrowed in confusion, deepening the creases in his forehead. "I thought we had settled that in advance of their arrival, Lieutenant," he replied with a hint of annoyance in his tone.


    Tasha''s jaw tightened almost imperceptibly. "So did we, Commander. Their live prey animals were beamed aboard into holding pens as requested. We were going to humanely dispatch and preserve the meat for them, but the Anticans are insisting that we bring the animals to them while still alive."


    "Then accommodate them," Riker stated firmly.


    The lead Antican bared its jagged teeth in what might have been a smile or a snarl. "I fail to grasp why this is an issue," it growled, its gravelly voice like stones grinding together. "We have witnessed humans consuming animal flesh before."


    "You''ve seen replicated meat," Riker explained patiently, "Inorganic material reconstructed out of patterns used by our food synthesizers. Not something as fresh and... lively as you require."


    The Antican''s face twisted in revulsion, its jagged teeth bared and its sunken eyes narrowing to slits. "That is sickening," it growled, its voice dripping with contempt. "It''s barbaric."


    Riker''s jaw clenched, but he held back the sharp retort on his tongue. This was not the time to debate the ethics of meat consumption with their alien guests. For now, diplomacy demanded restraint.


    "I understand this is difficult," Riker said evenly. "We want you to feel welcome aboard the Enterprise. If live prey is required for your meals, we will ensure it''s available."


    The Antican huffed, its lips curling back further to reveal more of its fangs. But it gave a curt nod and said no more.


    Riker tapped his combadge. "Riker to transporter room three. Initiate site-to-site transport. Energize the Antican''s prey animals to their quarters." He kept his tone neutral despite the unease swirling in his gut.


    "Aye sir," came the reply. "Energizing now."


    Riker watched the Antican''s beady eyes light up with anticipation as several alien creatures materialized within the holding pens lining the room''s walls. Multi-legged things with scales. They scrabbled against the transparent aluminum walls, squealing and hissing.


    "Excellent," purred the Antican. It licked its lips with a long purple tongue.


    Riker''s stomach turned. "Will there be anything else?" he asked tightly.


    The Antican waved a clawed hand in dismissal. Riker gave a terse nod, then turned on his heel. Tasha fell in step beside him as he strode from the room.


    A short walk later, Riker and Yar stood outside another guest quarters. Tyson looked up from the PADD in his hands as the door chimed. "Enter," he called out, curiosity tinging his voice.


    The doors slid open and Commander Riker strode in with Lieutenant Yar following on his heels.


    "Commander, Lieutenant, what can I do for you?" Tyson asked, setting the PADD aside.


    "We wanted to give you a heads up," Riker said, his tone casual yet authoritative. "There''s a delegation of Anticans staying on this deck. They''re bipedal, mammalian-looking aliens with some unique features. Didn''t want you to be alarmed if you ran into them in the corridors."


    Tyson waved a hand dismissively. "No worries, Commander. I''ve seen my fair share of strange-looking aliens in the other universe. A few new faces won''t phase me too much."


    Riker''s eyebrow ticked up slightly at the casual mention of Tyson''s adventures in another reality, but he simply nodded. "Good to hear. Still, I apologize in advance if the Anticans cause you any trouble. Thus far, they have been a bit... unusual."


    "It''s space," Tyson said with a shrug. "Strange new life and all that, I get it." Yar''s eyes narrowed faintly at the phrase, but she remained silent.


    Riker reached into his pocket and retrieved a gold combadge. He held it out to Tyson. "We''ve had some unusual situations crop up lately that you''ve been able to help resolve. Things might have gone more smoothly if we had a way to directly contact you and vice-versa. So we decided it''s time you had one of these."


    Tyson took the badge, turning it over in his fingers. He fastened it to his shirt, the combadge winking against the dark fabric.


    "With this, you''ll be connected to the ship''s communications network," Riker explained. His tone was casual yet carried the weight of authority. "Use it to contact myself, or other senior staff if you ever need assistance."


    "Much appreciated, Commander."


    "That''s all for now. Have a good day, Tyson."


    "You as well, Commander." Tyson watched as Riker turned and strode from the room, Yar on his heels. The doors slid shut behind them with a soft hiss, leaving Tyson alone with the combadge resting against his chest. His Gray Goo Suit promptly consumed and recreated the combadge.


    ¡ª Star Jumper ¡ª


    Dr. Crusher hovered over Worf, tricorder in hand as she gave the again-unconscious Klingon a thorough examination. Suddenly, sickbay was bathed in an eerie blue glow as wispy tendrils of ghostly energy erupted from Worf''s prone body. The tendrils snaked and curled up Dr. Crusher''s arms, making her stagger as her eyes momentarily glazed over, entranced. At that moment, the doors slid open and Counselor Troi strode in, her empathic senses immediately attuned to the strange, ominous atmosphere permeating the room.


    Troi''s dark eyes scanned Worf''s vitals on the display. "He''s reading normal now," she observed, her brows knitting together. "How did you manage that so quickly?"


    "Yes. Normal," Crusher replied, her voice oddly flat and toneless.


    Concern flickered across Troi''s face at the doctor''s strange demeanor. "Are you alright, Beverly?" she asked gently.


    "Yes, perfectly," Crusher said, the unnatural evenness still present in her tone. "Both of us. Quite normal now."


    Before Troi could probe any further, Worf suddenly bolted upright on the biobed, his eyes wide with confusion. "What? Where am I?" he demanded, his voice rough and disoriented.


    Troi turned to him, using her soothing counselor voice. "Don''t you remember? You were in the sensor maintenance room."


    Worf struggled to recall. "I remember monitoring the sensor console. What am I doing here?"


    "That''s a story the Doctor will tell you," Troi began, but as she turned back to Crusher, she found only empty space. The doctor had vanished without a word, leaving behind a palpable sense of unease.


    On the bridge, Captain Picard stood at a rear science station, his attention focused on the android officer beside him as Data processed information at inhuman speeds.


    "Obviously you feel it''s something we should look at more carefully," Picard mused, his voice carrying a hint of intrigue.


    Data''s response was immediate and matter-of-fact. "A mystery is only a mystery as long as it remains uninvestigated, sir."


    A small smile tugged at the corner of Picard''s mouth. "I love a mystery, Data, but this one will have to wait until we deliver the delegates to their peace conference on Parliament." His voice took on a more commanding tone as he addressed the helm. "Time and tide, Lieutenant La Forge. Go to warp eight."


    "Warp eight, sir," Geordi confirmed. The Enterprise surged forward, leaving behind the mysterious energy cloud.


    ¡ª Star Jumper ¡ª


    In his quarters, Tyson sat hunched over a PADD, his dark eyes scanning the intricate diagrams of dilithium crystals. Suddenly, his empathy tingled, picking up waves of malevolent intent from just outside his door. The Force echoed the warning.


    He activated his Scaling Cloak, rendering himself invisible. He opened a portal into the hallway, stepping through silently before closing it behind him. Just as he''d suspected, a group crept down the corridor. It was the Anticans that Commander Riker warned him about.


    Tyson tapped his combadge. "Tyson to Commander Riker."


    "Riker here, go ahead Tyson," came the prompt response.


    "Commander, a group of your guests just passed my quarters. Their emotions radiated aggression and hunger."


    Riker''s sigh crackled through the comm system. "On my way with a security team."


    "Would you like me to detain them?" Tyson asked.


    "No," Riker replied firmly. "We don''t want to cause a diplomatic incident. We''ll handle it. Thanks for the information."


    After intercepting the Anticans, they all gathered in the alien delegation''s quarters. Commander Riker stood tall, facing the Anticans with Lieutenant Yar at his side. His shoulders were set with authority, his eyes fixed on the aliens.


    "Your actions tonight were unacceptable," Riker stated firmly. "This ship is home to over a thousand beings from many worlds. We cannot have crew or guests prowling the corridors seeking to harm others."


    The lead Antican chittered angrily in response, its mandibles clacking together. Riker didn''t flinch, meeting the alien''s black-eyed stare.


    "I understand your dietary needs," the commander continued. "And we are doing our best to accommodate you during your stay. But the beings on this ship are not prey. If this happens again, your delegation will be confined to your quarters."


    "These weapons were taken from two of your people who were loitering out of sight in the vicinity of the Selay delegation quarters. Would you care to explain, sir?"


    The Antican''s sharp teeth glinted as it spoke, its gravelly voice filled with indignation. "These are not weapons, First Officer. They are tools. We use these to dispatch the animals we consume."


    Tasha''s eyes narrowed. "Your food supply is not on the same deck as the Selay delegation, sir."


    Riker''s tone hardened. "And you have to admit that these could kill."


    The Antican''s long whiskers twitched. "I admit some of my people are impulsive, and we all have reason to hate the Selay."


    Tasha''s voice was clipped as she responded, "They appear to have the same feelings about you, sir."


    "The nature of politics," the Antican replied smoothly.


    Riker''s patience was clearly wearing thin. "Nevertheless, Chief Delegate, you''re on notice that all of your weapons, no matter what their basic function, are being confiscated. Violence will not be tolerated on the Enterprise."


    The Antican bowed its head slightly. "Of course not. And if any does occur, let me assure you it will not be we Anticans who start it."


    "Thank you, sir," Tasha said, her tone professional but wary.


    As Riker and Tasha turned to leave, the Antican muttered under its breath, "But we will finish it."


    ¡ª Star Jumper ¡ª


    The tension on the bridge of the Enterprise ratcheted up as Lieutenant Worf reported, "Sir, warp power is fading."


    Captain Picard stood swiftly, tugging his uniform tunic down. "Picard to Engineering," he called, tapping his combadge.


    Engineer Singh''s voice came through the captain''s combadge from Main Engineering edged with tightly controlled frustration.


    "We have lost the warp engine computer tie-in, sir," he reported.


    Back on the bridge, Worf counted down.


    "Warp five...four...three..."


    The viewscreen showed the starfield slowing, the streaks of light becoming pinpricks as the ship rapidly shed velocity. Picard exchanged a grave look with his first officer. "State-of-the-art vessel?" he muttered, his sarcasm barely concealed. "Data, signal Parliament we''ll be delayed. We will send a new arrival time as soon as it is determined."Help support creative writers by finding and reading their stories on the original site.


    Data answered, "Sir, subspace communication is out."


    Captain Picard''s voice rang out sharply across the bridge. "Mister LaForge, Commander Data, I want you both to get to the bottom of these system failures immediately. Run a level one diagnostic on all key systems if you have to. Report back to me the moment you have any insight into what is plaguing my ship." The two officers nodded crisply and headed for the turbolift. "Number One, you have the bridge."


    Riker acknowledged the order as Picard strode into his ready room. The doors hissed shut behind him, muffling the quiet bustle of the bridge. Here, in the stillness, the captain allowed himself a moment to wrestle with the knot of frustration twisting in his gut. His ship, the pinnacle of Starfleet engineering was being hampered by a series of inexplicable system failures. It galled him.


    Settling behind his desk, Picard laced his fingers together, schooling his features into an impassive mask. He would get to the bottom of this.


    Sometime later, when the admittance chime eventually sounded, he called out sharply, "Come."


    Geordi, Riker, and Data entered, standing at attention before the captain''s desk. Picard fixed them with an expectant look. "Well, gentlemen? Report. What is causing my ship''s sudden vulnerability?"


    Geordi shook his head. "I''m afraid we have no definitive answers yet, Captain. But we''ll keep digging until we find the source."


    Picard''s expression hardened, even as Data added, "We have several working theories to investigate further..."The captain nodded prompting Data to continue. "If the Enterprise were really this fragile, sir, she never would have left Spacedock. Therefore, her systems'' failures are not endemic to the ship, but are the result of the actions of an unknown adversary."


    Riker''s brow furrowed as he translated. "We have a saboteur aboard?"


    Data tilted his head slightly. "I believe I said that."


    Picard held up a hand, silencing them. "Gentlemen. The question is, who? I can''t believe it''s one of our people."


    Geordi nodded in agreement. "It must be someone from either alien delegation."


    Picard leaned forward, his eyes intense. "Can any of you suggest any other suspects?"


    A wry smile tugged at Riker''s lips. "You''re sounding like a private eye, sir."


    Data''s curiosity was piqued. "Inquiry. Private eye?"


    Picard''s expression softened slightly as he explained, "A private consulting investigator, Data, who solves crimes."


    Data''s eyes lit up with interest. "A most interesting occupation."


    Picard allowed himself a small smile. "In the world of fact, probably not. However, in literature, criminal detection can be a fascinating exercise. The immortal Sherlock Holmes would have an interesting view of our mystery, I believe."


    Riker''s voice held a note of regret. "But I''m afraid we''re going to have to find our solution without history''s greatest Consulting Detective."


    Data''s voice cut through the moment of levity. "Sir, I suggest there is another suspect we haven''t yet considered. Tyson. He is not a member of the crew and has demonstrated unusual abilities."


    Riker was quick to defend Tyson. "I''ve spoken with Tyson today, twice. He even contacted me to inform me our Antican delegates were getting up to shenanigans. His combadge indicates he hasn''t left his deck or the vicinity of his quarters at any point today."


    Picard nodded thoughtfully. "Very well, keep an open mind. Tyson isn''t a primary suspect, but we know little of his abilities. Let''s not rule him out yet. We could be dealing with something as benign as one of his abilities unknowingly interacting with the Enterprise''s systems."


    ¡ª Star Jumper ¡ª


    The senior officers gathered in the oval observation lounge, the stars, normally streaking by outside the viewport, remained fixed as the engines were offline. Captain Picard sat at the head of the table, his eyes sweeping over each of his trusted crew in turn.


    Riker finished his report, "And the Engines were accessible again. I''ve got most of Engineering working on pinning down the issue, and the resolution."


    Counselor Troi sat to the captain''s right, her dark empathic eyes troubled. She clasped her hands tightly before her on the table as she began her report. "I have something to report, sir. Earlier, I noticed some unusual reactions in sickbay. I placed both Dr. Crusher and Worf under hypnosis," she explained, "The findings from both sessions were consistent. They confirmed the feeling of duality, of two warring wills, that I had sensed within them earlier."


    Picard''s brow furrowed deeply, his voice sharp with concern. "Why did you not inform me of this immediately?"


    Troi met his gaze evenly. "Because at first, Captain, I assumed it was the inner conflict all beings sometimes feel. The duality between logic and emotion, caution and daring. Even you, sir, must sometimes ask yourself which path is right when faced with a difficult decision."


    Picard''s expression softened slightly at her insight. He gave a small nod. "Of course, Counselor. A captain must always weigh his options carefully." His expression softened slightly, understanding dawning in his eyes. "Your hypnotism revealed another form of duality?"


    "Yes, sir," Troi confirmed, her voice dropping to just above a whisper. "I believe something invaded them."


    Picard turned his attention to Data, who sat with an old-fashioned pipe clenched between his teeth. The android''s pale golden eyes stared straight ahead, unblinking, as wisps of smoke curled up from the pipe''s bowl.


    "Data, let''s proceed without the pipe," Picard said gently.


    "Yes, sir. If you wish, sir." He removed the pipe from his mouth and placed it on the table before him. The pipe had been part of his Sherlock Holmes impersonation, but now the android''s features returned to their default polite attentiveness. Though he hadn''t dropped the mannerisms of the famous detective completely.


    "I take it as incontrovertible that the saboteur cannot be a family member or one of our crew?" Data asked, his voice rising in an almost triumphant tone.


    "Yes, very unlikely," Picard replied with a nod.


    "Then our investigation was worthwhile, sir," Data concluded decisively. "We have eliminated both the delegates and the ship''s regular complement as suspects."


    Picard smiled slightly. "Well reasoned. We''ve narrowed the possibilities. Now let''s consider what options remain." He leaned forward, his eyes narrowing. "Data, what are you suggesting?"


    The android''s response was immediate, his voice taking on the cadence of a Victorian detective. "I am referring to the great detective''s credo, sir. I quote, we must fall back on the old axiom that when other contingencies fail, whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth. Tyson is our best suspect."


    On the bridge, Wesley Crusher was puzzled as he reported to the officers gathered on the Enterprise''s bridge. "Sirs, my study of the ship''s systems shows the computer-engine interface was never actually repaired. It seems to have just... fixed itself."


    Geordi La Forge answered over his shoulder. "Well, sometimes the end result is what counts, right?" His tone was lighthearted before morphing into alarm. "Wait, what the¡­ oh no!"


    Worf''s gravelly baritone rumbled with concern, the Klingon''s ridged brow furrowing. "What is it, Lieutenant?"


    La Forge''s fingers flew faster, trying to compensate. "The helm''s unresponsive."


    The Klingon reacted immediately, tapping his combadge. "Bridge to Captain Picard, you''re needed out here sir, it''s urgent!"


    Jean-Luc Picard strode onto the bridge, exuding a commanding presence that seemed to fill the room. "Report!" he barked crisply.


    Worf''s response was terse and grim. "Helm control is down for no apparent reason, Captain."


    La Forge''s voice was tight with frustration as he called out over the blaring alerts. "Sir, we''ve dropped to impulse power and can''t get it back!"


    The captain''s jaw set, eyes blazing as he assessed the crisis. "Again? Analysis, Number One!" he snapped to his first officer. "I want options and I want them now!"


    Jean-Luc Picard leaned over the helm console, brow furrowed in concentration as he studied the readouts. A faint blue energy suddenly arced between his fingertips and the panel, dancing across the smooth surface.


    Geordi La Forge''s eyes widened. "Sir, are you alright?" he asked, startled concern evident in his voice. "I could have sworn I just saw..."


    "I''m fine, Mr. La Forge," Picard cut him off, tone oddly calm and detached. His gaze remained fixed on the console, eyes distant. "Everything is operating within normal parameters now. Why did you claim we had dropped to impulse power?"


    La Forge blinked in confusion at the abrupt question. "The helm controls were completely unresponsive, Captain. We couldn''t maintain warp speed."


    Picard''s response was sharp, almost hostile. "Unresponsive? You must be mistaken. Take another look, Lieutenant."


    Unsure what to make of the captain''s odd behavior, La Forge nevertheless ran a quick diagnostic. To his astonishment, the helm seemed to be operating perfectly. How it had suddenly fixed itself, he had no idea.


    "You''re right sir, helm control is back online," he reported, unable to keep the bewilderment from his voice. "But just a moment ago, it was completely down."


    Picard turned to fix La Forge with a penetrating stare. "Your concern is noted, Mr. La Forge," he said coolly. "But as you can see, the ship is functioning normally. Let''s move on, shall we?"


    Though outwardly acquiescent, La Forge''s mind churned with unease. Something was very wrong here. The captain''s strange energy surge, his detached demeanor, the inexplicable helm malfunction, and sudden recovery... it didn''t add up. But with the crisis seemingly resolved, he had no choice but to return to his station, resolved to keep a close eye on Picard. Something sinister was at work here.


    ¡ª Star Jumper ¡ª


    An Antican snarled, "I demand to see the Captain!"


    O''Brien, acting as security, continued following the Antican down the corridor. "Stop! Return to your quarters."


    A door opened as they walked past, it opened to reveal a member of the Selay delegation. His forked tongue flicked out as it hissed, "What is that doing on our deck?"


    The Antican''s voice rose to a roar. "I demand to know why this starship has changed its course!"


    O''Brien''s voice was strained as he tried to maintain order. "Please, return to your quarters, delegates!"


    Tyson had just finished his holodeck training session and he walked back to the turbolift. Suddenly, he sensed a spike of aggression through the Force. He took off using Force-enhanced speed.


    He arrived just in time to see the beginnings of the fight between the two delegations. He tapped his combadge and spoke when it chirped. "Tyson to Riker. The Anticans and Selay are engaging each other in combat. I''m assisting crewman O''Brien in separating them."


    Riker''s voice crackled through the comm. "Acknowledged Tyson, sending a security team to your location. Once they arrive and have the situation under control, please report to my quarters."


    Tyson''s brow furrowed as he dodged a swipe from a Selay, retaliating with a kick that sent the alien flying. "Your quarters sir, not the executive office?"


    "Correct," Riker confirmed.


    "Alright, I''ll be there shortly, sir," Tyson responded, his focus returning to the chaos around him.


    In Riker''s quarters, the atmosphere was thick with tension. A model of a shuttlecraft sat in the corner. Data''s measured tones filled the room as Tyson entered. "A mere change of direction hardly justifies mutiny."


    Dr. Crusher''s voice was tight with concern as she addressed Troi. "Exactly what do you believe you''re sensing from him?"


    The counselor''s response was hesitant, and her empathic abilities left her troubled. "It''s just a feeling that he''s, well, that he''s closed part of his mind to me. I just feel that the Captain has become, perhaps dangerous."


    Riker''s blue eyes were sharp as he turned to Tyson. "Thank you for coming. We''re having some issues with the Enterprise and I need to ask, are you doing anything that could affect the ship?"


    Tyson shook his head, his expression open and honest. "All I''ve been doing today is studying, minus my training session on the holodeck. I didn''t notice there was anything wrong with the Enterprise."


    La Forge voiced, "The ship''s holodeck systems have been unaffected." His next words were heavy with implication. "If the malfunctions aren''t Tyson''s doing and are really caused by some entity that''s now inhabiting the captain... Then he''d have to be relieved of command. Which you could do, Doctor, but it''s trouble if you''re wrong."


    Data''s logical perspective provided a counterpoint. "And at the moment it is all pure speculation. He has done nothing to subject the Enterprise to danger."


    Dr. Crusher''s voice was tight with frustration. "I''d need a medical log citing clear evidence of incapacity to relieve him of duty." She turned to Riker. "You could do it without that problem."


    Riker''s response was measured, the weight of command heavy in his voice. "Only if all command officers agreed it vital to do so. But he has not been showing any overt unusual behavior."


    Troi''s voice was soft but certain. "Ultimately, I believe he will."


    "If there''s an entity that Counselor Troi can detect, I can probably feel it as well," Tyson noted, offering his help. Inwardly, he frowned, he didn''t remember this episode from the show if it had been an episode at all. The Anticans and Selay looked familiar, unsurprising given their unique appearance, but Tyson couldn''t recall Picard being possessed.


    Dr. Crusher seized on this, her eyes bright with determination. "That would be a second data point to support our position." She turned to Riker, her voice taking on a note of urgency. "As second in command, it''s still in your corner. I''ll order medical and psychiatric exams. You''ll have to back me up somehow."


    ¡ª Star Jumper ¡ª


    Captain Picard sat rigid behind his desk, steel-blue eyes boring into Dr. Crusher and Commander Riker as they stood before him. His voice was clipped and sharp, a hint of irritation creeping into his tone. "Yes?"


    "I''d like you to come to sickbay for some examinations, Captain."


    A flicker of amusement crossed Picard''s chiseled features, the corner of his mouth quirking up briefly. "Oh? I''ll be glad to do it when I''m free." His words were pleasant but his eyes remained hard.


    "I''d like to conduct them now, sir," Crusher replied evenly.


    Picard''s gaze shifted to Riker. "Why?" he asked, his voice taking on a deceptively casual lilt. "What can I do for you, Number One?"


    Riker''s voice remained respectful. "Sir, Counselor Troi has recommended the examinations."


    Picard''s response was immediate, impatience flashing in his eyes. "Same question. Why?"


    "It is my duty to inform the Captain that we believe he may be under some kind of alien influence, which may constitute a danger to this ship."


    Picard leaned back, steepling his fingers as he regarded Riker and Crusher. When he spoke, his voice was low and dangerous. "Is that so? I consider it equally possible that the two of you, and Counsellor Troi, are overworked, and possibly suffering hallucinations." His voice hardened into a command. "Now this is an order. You will arrange medical and psychiatric exams of both yourself and them." He turned his attention back to Crusher, his tone almost mocking. "Doctor, are you aware everybody is behaving strangely?"


    Crusher stood her ground. "I''m concerned that you''ve suddenly turned the ship away from its course."


    Picard''s eyes flashed with anger. "What''s happened to your mind, Doctor? The search for knowledge is always our primary mission." His voice dripped with disdain. "I''m sorry, I really am too busy for this kind of nonsense. Do I have to call security to force you to report to the Sickbay?"


    "No, sir."


    As Crusher and Riker left the ready room and entered the turbolift, the air shimmered beside them. Tyson materialized, his Scaling Cloak deactivating to reveal he''d been with them the entire time. Riker''s eyes widened in surprise, but he quickly composed himself.


    "Sense anything?"


    "I did get the impression that there was a second entity along with the captain. It gave off a sense of deceit and a heavy desire to get back to where it came from."


    Riker''s jaw clenched. "And that''s exactly where the captain''s last order set us on a heading to." His voice rang out with authority. "Computer, halt turbolift. Return us to the bridge."


    As they stepped back onto the bridge, Riker''s voice cut through the tense atmosphere. "Helm, full stop."


    Geordi''s acknowledged, following the commander''s order. "Aye, sir."


    The ready room doors hissed open, revealing Captain Picard. His eyes narrowed as he took in the scene before him. "Helm, why have we stopped? Return us to my previously ordered heading."


    Riker''s voice was firm as he countermanded, "Belay that order."


    Picard''s posture stiffened, his eyes sweeping across the bridge crew. When he spoke, his voice carried an eerie calm. "I have an announcement for the entire Bridge. As many of you suspected, when our ship passed through the edge of this, it accidentally carried away a sentient being. Much like these energy patterns we''re seeing here."


    As Picard continued his explanation, the crew listened in stunned silence. Troi''s empathic senses were on high alert, her voice soft but insistent as she interrupted. "Captain, do you exist in combination with this entity?"


    Riker''s question was more direct, his tone sharp with concern. "Is it in control of you, sir?"


    Picard''s response was almost dreamy, his eyes unfocused. "Very soon after we combined we learned much about each other. A passion for exploration, for the unknown. We found we had similar dreams, and it offered your Captain a way to realize them beyond human expectations."


    As the situation escalated, Picard''s intentions became clear. He planned to beam himself and the entity into the energy cloud, abandoning his humanity for a new form of existence. The crew watched in horror as their captain removed his combadge, his voice flat as he announced, "A resignation from this command and Starfleet has been appropriately recorded."


    Riker''s voice rang out. "I refuse to allow this, sir."


    Picard''s response was cold, detached. "How does this resignation threaten the ship and its crew in any way?"


    Dr. Crusher stepped forward, firm in her resolve. "Captain Picard, you are now relieved from duty. I judge you to be disabled and mentally incapacitated."


    At that moment, chaos erupted on the bridge. Blue energy crackled from Picard, arcing through the ship''s systems and engulfing the bridge crew. Riker''s voice cut through the mayhem. "Security! Red Alert! Restrain the Captain!"


    The energy surge revealed Tyson, his Scaling Cloak and shield flickering as he became visible.


    As Picard moved to leave the bridge, he found himself suddenly forced back by an invisible wall of force. Tyson''s telekinesis held firm, his shield protecting him from the paralyzing energy that had immobilized the rest of the crew.


    Tyson assessed his options. His blaster pistol was too powerful, its setting likely to prove fatal to the captain. His Lightsaber and Laser Sword were equally ill-suited for a non-lethal takedown. With no other choice, Tyson closed the distance between them.


    Picard, or rather the entity controlling him, lashed out with a clumsy punch. It was clear that whatever had possessed the captain hadn''t enhanced his physical abilities. Tyson easily dodged the attack.


    The fight, if it could even be called that, was over in seconds. Tyson''s fist connected and Captain Picard crumpled to the deck, unconscious. As the blue energy dissipated, the bridge crew began to stir, their eyes wide with shock and confusion at the scene before them.


    Riker was the first to regain his composure, his voice hoarse as he called out, "Dr. Crusher, see to the captain. Geordi, reset our heading for Parliment, Warp 8. Security, confine the Antican and Selay delegations to their quarters under guard. Inform them we''re on a heading toward Parliament."


    Dr. Crusher rushed toward the unconscious form of Captain Picard. Before she could reach him, Tyson interrupted.


    "Hold on," he said, his hand raised in a gesture of caution. "We already know this thing can jump between hosts. It''s best if you don''t get close enough for it to do so."


    With a subtle flick of his wrist, Tyson lifted the captain''s body into the air using his telekinesis. The crew watched in stunned silence as their leader floated, suspended by an invisible force.


    "Can you work in my Medical Bay?" Tyson asked.


    "It has access to nearly every scanner and piece of equipment that I have in Sick Bay, so yes," Crusher responded.


    Without another word, Tyson opened a shimmering portal beside them. The swirling energy cast an eerie glow across the bridge as he guided Dr. Crusher and the hovering form of Captain Picard through it. She glanced around the Medical Bay, taking in the alien species occupying the other beds. She asked curiously, gesturing at the various strange beings, "Who are all these others?"


    Tyson followed her gaze, surveying the recovering prisoners. "They were being held captive on an alien space station in a different reality," he explained. "The station was draining them to power itself, leaving them functionally braindead." He shook his head sadly. "They were just batteries to their captors. But as long as the body lives, the Medical Bay can heal even severe neurological damage. I''m hoping they''ll make a full recovery, but only time will tell."


    Crusher moved among the beds, inspecting the myriad of alien physiologies. "I don''t recognize so many of these species," she murmured, "but is that a Romulan?" She glanced sharply at Tyson.


    He nodded. "It is."


    "The Federation hasn''t had contact with the Romulans for almost half a century now." Crusher pursed her lips pensively. "That could present an opportunity... or a challenge. Diplomatic overtures, if handled correctly."


    "We can worry about galactic politics later. Let''s focus on Captain Picard for now."


    Crusher returned her attention to her primary patient. "You''re right, of course," she conceded.


    Tyson gently lowered Picard onto a biobed, and immediately, sensors and scanners sprang to life around him. The air filled with soft beeps and hums as the equipment began its analysis. Dr. Crusher''s eyes darted from screen to screen, her fingers flying over the controls as she interpreted the data. She pulled out her own tricorder to confirm the findings.


    After a few tense moments, she shook her head, frustration evident in her voice. "I''m not seeing anything here that would indicate something is affecting the captain."


    Tyson frowned, his mind racing. He had anticipated this possibility; none of the upgrades he had installed in his Medical Bay were designed to detect alien possession or symbiotic beings. He opened the system menu and began browsing.


    "Microbiome Replacement Lab," he muttered, confirming the purchase.


    [100 RP] Microbiome Replacement Lab (Personal Reality)


    This upgrade allows you to create a special serum that innoculates anyone of any species so that the symbiotic life forms that their bodies need to continue functioning are replaced with benign versions of themselves that won¡¯t harm them if they go out of whack nor will they infect others for whom they won¡¯t be so symbiotic. This isn¡¯t just limited to helpful bacteria, protozoa, and fungi, but also applies to things that might not technically be alive like virus particles that are part of your virome or self-replicating nanites/picocites.


    Reality Points: 100


    In an instant, the far wall of the Medical Bay shimmered and changed. A new laboratory materialized, separated from the main area by a transparent barrier. Around Picard''s biobed, new devices sprouted like high-tech flowers.


    Dr. Crusher''s gasp of surprise cut through the air. Her eyes widened as she studied the readouts from the new equipment. "Not sure what you did, but now the scanners are picking up on the energy being''s presence," she reported, a hint of excitement creeping into her voice. "It won''t take much to isolate and separate the being."


    She turned to Tyson, genuine admiration in her eyes. "Nice work, whatever you did." Her gaze swept across the new lab, awe evident in her expression. She placed her tricorder down, no longer needing it with the scanners of the Medical Bay surpassing it in every way.


    Tyson allowed himself a small smile of satisfaction. The tension in his shoulders eased slightly as he realized they were one step closer to freeing Picard from the alien influence. He moved to stand beside Dr. Crusher. He grabbed her tricorder and willed his Gray Goo Suit to absorb the device. His suit had the scanners from the Star Wars: Knights of the Old Republic universe, but Federation scanners were the best in this galaxy.


    "What''s our next move, Doctor?" he asked, ready to lend his unique abilities to whatever plan she devised.


    "We need to create a containment field to trap the entity once we separate it from the captain," she explained. "Can your equipment handle that?"


    "I suppose we''ll find out. I''ll set up an isolation field. It should be able to hold any form of energy-based life."


    As they worked in tandem, the air in the Medical Bay crackled with a mixture of tension and hope. The unconscious form of Captain Picard lay still on the biobed, unaware of the battle being waged for his very being. The advanced technology of Tyson''s facility melded seamlessly with Dr. Crusher''s medical expertise, creating a formidable team against the alien intruder. Outside the Medical Bay, the rest of the Enterprise crew waited anxiously for news. Commander Riker paced the bridge, his jaw set in a hard line as he struggled with the weight of command in Picard''s absence. Counselor Troi sat at her station, her empathic senses stretched as she monitored the emotional state of the crew.


    Back in the Medical Bay, a soft chime from one of the consoles drew Tyson and Dr. Crusher''s attention. The doctor''s eyes lit up as she interpreted the data. "We''ve got it," she announced, her voice tight with excitement. "The entity''s energy signature is fully mapped. We can begin the separation process."


    Tyson moved to the containment field controls, his fingers poised over the activation switch. "Ready when you are, Doctor," he said.


    As Dr. Crusher initiated the separation sequence, the air in the Medical Bay seemed to thicken. A faint blue glow began to emanate from Captain Picard''s body, growing stronger with each passing second. Tyson''s hand hovered over the controls, ready to trap the entity the moment it was free. Suddenly, a brilliant blue light erupted from Picard''s body. It writhed and pulsed, struggling against an invisible force as it was slowly pulled away from the captain. Tyson''s hand hovered over the containment field controls.


    "Now, Tyson!" Dr. Crusher shouted, her voice sharp with urgency.


    Without hesitation, Tyson slammed his hand down on the controls. A shimmering barrier sprang to life, enveloping the blue energy as it separated completely from Picard''s body. The entity frantically swirled within its prison.


    For a moment, silence reigned in the Medical Bay. Then, with a soft groan, Captain Picard''s eyes fluttered open. Dr. Crusher was at his side in an instant, her tricorder whirring as she scanned him.


    "Captain? Can you hear me?" she asked gently.


    Picard blinked, confusion evident in his eyes. "Doctor? What... what happened?


    Relief washed over Dr. Crusher''s face. "You were under the influence of an alien entity, sir. We''ve managed to separate it from you."


    Tyson stepped forward, gesturing towards the containment field where the blue energy continued to swirl. "The entity is secure, Captain. How do you feel?"


    Picard sat up slowly, his hand going to his head. "Like I''ve been on the losing end of a bout with a Nausicaan," he muttered. "Where are we?"


    "My Medical Bay, sir," Tyson explained. "It was the safest place to perform the separation."


    Picard nodded, his composure returning with each passing moment. "Well done, both of you. Now, assuming this ends the issues we''ve been having with the Enterprise''s systems, I believe we have some delegates to deliver and an alien to return home."


    The next few hours passed in a flurry of activity. The Enterprise resumed its course to Parliament, with Commander Riker personally overseeing the final preparations for the Antican and Selay delegations. Tension remained high between the two species, but the constant security oversight prevented any further issues.


    As they approached Parliament, Picard stood on the bridge, his presence a comfort to the crew who had feared for his well-being. "Mr. Data, status report," he commanded, his voice strong and clear.


    "We are on schedule to arrive at Parliament in seventeen minutes, Captain. The delegates are prepared for transport."


    Picard nodded, satisfaction was evident in his expression. "Excellent. Let''s hope they can set aside their differences long enough to make some progress."


    The transfer of the delegates went smoothly, a fact that brought visible relief to the entire crew. As the last transport completed, Picard turned to his first officer. "Number One set a course back to the energy cloud. We have one last piece of business to attend to."


    "Aye, sir. It''ll be good to put this whole ordeal behind us."


    The journey back to the energy cloud was uneventful, giving the crew time to reflect on the strange series of events they had experienced. As they approached their destination, Picard called for all senior staff to gather on the bridge.


    "We''ve all been through quite an ordeal," he began, his gaze sweeping across his officers. "But we''ve also had a unique opportunity for first contact with a truly alien life form. It''s time we returned it to its home."


    Dr. Crusher stepped forward, her expression thoughtful. "Captain, are you sure it''s safe to release the entity? We don''t know if it will try to possess someone else."


    Picard''s response was measured, tinged with the wisdom gained from his experience. "The entity was acting out of fear and a desire to return home, Doctor. Now that we understand each other better, I believe we can trust it to return peacefully."


    Tyson, who had been invited to the bridge, spoke up. "I can modify the containment field to create a directed energy beam. We can use it to guide the entity back to the cloud without risking anyone else."


    Picard nodded his approval. "Make it so, Mr. Tyson. Let''s bring this adventure to a close."


    As the Enterprise held position near the swirling energy cloud, Tyson worked with Data to modify the ship''s systems. A tense silence fell over the bridge as they prepared for the final release.


    "Ready, Captain," Tyson announced, his hand poised over the controls.


    Picard took a deep breath, straightening his uniform. "Proceed, Mr. Tyson."


    With a touch of a button, the contained entity streamed out from the ship in a brilliant arc of blue energy. It paused for a moment, hovering between the Enterprise and its home. Then, in a flash of light that momentarily blinded the bridge crew, it dove into the cloud and disappeared.


    As the afterimage faded from their eyes, a collective sigh of relief swept through the bridge. Picard allowed himself a small smile as he turned to address his crew.


    "Well done, everyone. This is what Starfleet is all about. Exploration, understanding, and peaceful resolution. Set a course, Number One. I believe our next mission is to pick up some colonists to deliver to Strnad. And we''re already late. Engage."


    Episode: Star Trek The Next Generation - Lonely Among Us Complete!


    +50 RP


    Reality Points: 150


    <hr>


    Tyson


    Origins: Human, Humanoid, Drop-In, Space Pirate, Bad Guy


    Race: Augment Human-Betazoid (Hybrid)


    Character Points: 1400, [250 KOTOR (Vicky)]


    Reality Points: 150


    Ship Points: 1700


    Credits: 116,450


    Status Effects: (none)


    Drawbacks:


    Gauntlet (Locked)


    Ensign Marty Stu


    A Simple Re''Q''uest


    Hybrid (Betazoid)


    Amok Time/Blood Fever


    Outlawed


    Mary Sue


    Perks:


    Cosmic Awareness


    Out of Nowhere


    Going Native


    Live and Let Live


    This is (Not?) Rocket Science


    Kinda Bland


    Determinator


    Painted On


    Snakeskin


    Adaptable


    Duelist


    Master with your Hands


    Best of the Best


    Everything Is A Weapon


    Augment


    Force Specialization: Intelligence


    Tactical Info


    Sever Force


    Items:


    Laser Blade


    Spacesuit


    Agony Booth


    Cloaking Minefield


    Lightsaber


    Gray Goo Suit


    Companions:


    (Vicky) V-KO IV Nursedroid: Access Key, Artificial Intelligence Upgrade, Gray Goo Upgrade, Master With Your Hands, Light Weapon, Jumper''s Master Key, Scaling Cloak, Origin:Jedi, Force Specialization: Intelligence, Enhanced Mind, Lightsaber, Armored Robes, Battle Meditation


    T''Pol: Access Key


    Personal Reality:


    Access Key (Additional Keys, Key Link)


    Security System


    High-Security Inter-Reality Connecting Door (Star Trek Enterprise, Star Wars Knights of the Old Republic)


    Medical Bay (The Nano-Medical Lab, The Bio-Synthesis Lab, Microbiome Replacement Lab)


    Housing Complex (Basic Nutrition, Choice Apartments, Who''s Got the Powa, Pipes Pipes Pipes)


    Playing With Portals (Portal Link, Portal Control Rod, Free Portal)


    Spaceships:


    Tramp Freighter (Destroyed - Respawn on 02/28/2365)


    Sith Interceptor (Bridge Upgrade)


    Automated Repair Station (Ship Size Rating: IV, Station, Bridge, Space Hulk, Artificial Gravity, Cryo-Chambers, Auto-Repair System, Synapses, Distributed, Automated Ship, Analytic Suite, Docking Port, Transporter Room, Matter Printer, Negentropy Reactor, Deflector Shields, Clarketech Module, Production Lines, Hangar, Cargo Bay, Living Quarters)

 Season 2: Episode 16 - Justice

    Episode 16 - Justice


    Stardate: 41255.6


    Earth Standard Date: April 3, 2364.


    Location: USS Enterprise-D


    The soft hum of conversation and the clink of glasses filled 13-Forward as Commander Riker strode through the doors. His eyes swept the room, taking in the off-duty crew members relaxing after their shifts. Tyson stood from his seat, his posture straightening as he approached.


    "Commander, a moment of your time?" Tyson asked.


    Riker''s eyebrows raised slightly, but he nodded. "Sure."


    "What''s the policy for guests aboard the Enterprise?"


    Confusion flickered across Riker''s face. After all, Tyson was a guest and followed the rules without needing them explaned. "I''m not sure I understand," Riker replied, his tone cautious. "You''ve been here for a while now, and seem to be doing fine."


    Tyson''s lips quirked into a small smile. "I don''t mean for myself, Commander. I mean if I wanted to bring a guest to the Enterprise."


    Riker''s eyes widened slightly, his voice tinged with disbelief. "Where would you get a guest?"


    Tyson''s smile grew, a mischievous glint in his eye. "I could explain, or show you if you''re free."


    Curiosity won out over caution in Riker''s mind. "Why not?" he said with a shrug. "I''m off-duty."


    With a wave, Tyson activated the Access Key within his Gray Goo Suit. The panel to 13-Forward beeped acknowledgement and the door opened, revealing a room that was not the usual corridor beyond. Riker stared in surprise. He''d seen Tyson use his portals before, but this was different. The last time he''d been invited into Tyson''s Personal Reality was during the Polywater Contagion incident, and even then, he hadn''t seen much beyond the Medical Bay.


    Riker stepped through the portal. The door closed behind them with a soft hiss, leaving them standing in an antechamber that seemed to lead to a room that stretched impossibly far in every direction. Tyson set off briskly down a side hallway, passing by the now-familiar Medical Bay where they had treated the captain not long ago.


    Tyson''s voice took on a tour guide quality as they entered another door. "This is the Housing Complex," he explained. "It''s like the guest suites on the Enterprise, minus the replicators."


    Riker''s eyes darted around to take in every detail. Tyson continued, his tone becoming more conversational. "When I first arrived on the Enterprise-D, Counselor Troi led me on a tour. We visited the holodeck and ran your program for the NX-01''s mission to the Seleya."


    A fond smile crossed Riker''s face. "Ah, fascinating time that was."


    Tyson nodded, his expression turning more serious. "At the time, Q interfered with the program and the holodeck overlapped with an alternate reality where the Enterprise crew failed the mission and Archer was forced to retreat, leaving his first officer, T''Pol behind."


    Riker''s brow furrowed as he tried to follow the convoluted explanation. "A little confusing, but I think I''m following."


    Tyson chuckled, the sound echoing slightly in the corridor. "This probably isn''t going where you think it is. Like the universe I had access to and told you about, the one with Jedi and Sith. Well, I also gained access to the NX-01 Enterprise timeline."


    With those words, Tyson opened the door to his suite in the Housing Complex. Riker''s jaw dropped as he took in the sight before him. Sitting calmly in the center of the room was a Vulcan woman, her pointed ears and elegant features unmistakable. It was T''Pol, the first officer of the NX-01 Enterprise, looking exactly as she did in the historical records.


    "Not a holodeck?" Riker managed to ask.


    Tyson shook his head, his tone serious. "I don''t have access to Holodeck technology or anything similar to my Personal Reality. Yet."


    T''Pol stood, her voice was calm and measured as she spoke. "I assure you, as difficult as it may be to believe, I am real." She raised her hand in the traditional Vulcan salute, her fingers forming the iconic V shape.


    Riker''s shocked expression slowly morphed into a smile of wonder and amazement. He turned to Tyson, his voice filled with disbelief and excitement. "How is this possible? Are you telling me you can access different timelines, different realities?"


    A look of relief crossed his face at Riker''s positive reaction. "It''s complicated, but under the right circumstances, yes. My Personal Reality allows me to interact with various universes and timelines. T''Pol here is from an alternate version of the NX-01 timeline."


    T''Pol stepped forward, her eyebrow raised in a quintessentially Vulcan expression. "I must admit, Commander Riker, that from what Tyson has told me, I find your reality equally fascinating. The advancements your Federation has made are... most impressive."


    Riker''s mind raced with the implications of what he was seeing and hearing. He turned back to Tyson, his voice took on a more official tone. "This is... incredible, Tyson. But it also raises a lot of questions. Why are you showing me this now?"


    Tyson''s expression turned serious. "I''ve been thinking about my role here on the Enterprise, Commander. I''ve tried to be helpful where I can, but I''ve also been cautious about revealing too much about my abilities. But after recent events, I realized that holding back might be doing more harm than good... Or rather not allowing me to do as much as I could."


    He gestured towards T''Pol. "I was hoping to allow her, and one of my other Companions to join me on the Enterprise-D on occassions. But I didn''t want to spring this on you without discussing it first."


    "I appreciate your candor, Tyson. This is... well, it''s unprecedented. We''ll need to discuss this with the Captain and the senior staff. There are security concerns to consider, not to mention the temporal implications."


    T''Pol spoke up, her tone logical and measured. "I understand your concerns, Commander. I assure you that Tyson and I have discussed things thoroughly. I will not reveal any of my experiences or observations from your time to those within mine. I will honor your Prime Directive. The Vulcan High Command of my time used a similar protocol and principle. My presence would merely satisfy my curiosity and provide a learning opportunity for me as it is for you."


    Riker''s eyes darted between Tyson and T''Pol. "Well," he said, a hint of his usual charm returning to his voice, "I have to say, Tyson, when you offer to show someone something interesting, you certainly deliver."


    Tyson laughed, the tension in his shoulders easing. "So, what do you think, Commander?"


    Riker stroked his beard thoughtfully. "It''s not a decision I can make alone. But I think it''s worth discussing with the Captain. This could be an incredible opportunity for cultural and scientific exchange." He turned to T''Pol, extending his hand in a very human gesture. "Welcome aboard, T''Pol. At least unofficially, for now."


    T''Pol regarded his hand before taking it in a firm handshake. "Thank you, Commander. I look forward to the possibility of meeting your crew."


    Riker settled into a comfortable chair in Tyson''s suite, his eyes fixed on T''Pol with undisguised curiosity. The Vulcan woman sat across from him, her posture perfect, hands folded neatly in her lap. The air was thick with the aroma of simmering vegetables as Tyson busied himself in the small kitchenette adjacent to the living area.


    "So, T''Pol," Riker began, leaning forward slightly, his voice warm with interest. "I''d love to hear about how you ended up on the NX-01 Enterprise. It must have been quite an adventure."


    T''Pol raised an eyebrow in a gesture so quintessentially Vulcan that Riker couldn''t help but smile. "Indeed, Commander," she replied, her voice measured and calm. As T''Pol began her tale, Tyson moved about the kitchenette with practiced ease. He chopped vegetables with precise movements, the sound of the knife on the cutting board was a soothing counterpoint to T''Pol''s measured tones.


    "I was initially assigned to the Enterprise as an observer," T''Pol continued. "The Vulcan High Command was... concerned about Earth''s rapid advancement into deep space exploration. They believed humans were not yet ready for the challenges they would face."


    Riker nodded. "I can imagine that didn''t sit well with Captain Archer and the crew."


    "Your assessment is correct," T''Pol agreed. "There was significant tension at first. Captain Archer, in particular, was resistant to my presence."


    Tyson added the chopped vegetables to a pot of simmering broth. As she spoke the rich aroma of the soup filled the air, creating a cozy atmosphere.


    T''Pol''s eyes seemed to focus on a distant point as she continued her story. "However, as our mission progressed, I found myself... intrigued by the human approach to exploration. Their curiosity, their willingness to take risks ¨C it was most illogical, and yet, oddly compelling."


    Riker chuckled. "That sounds like humanity, alright. Always rushing in where angels fear to tread."


    "An apt metaphor, Commander," T''Pol replied, the barest hint of approval in her tone. "As time passed, I became more invested in the Enterprise''s mission. The crew''s determination in the face of adversity was... admirable."


    Tyson approached, carrying three bowls of steaming soup. He handed one to Riker and another to T''Pol before taking his seat. "Sounds like you went through quite a transformation," he commented, blowing gently on his soup to cool it.


    T''Pol accepted the bowl with a nod of thanks. "Indeed. My time on the Enterprise challenged many preconceptions about humans and my people. It was... a profound learning experience."


    Riker took a sip of his soup, his eyebrows rising in appreciation. "This is delicious, Tyson," he said, turning to T''Pol. "So, at what point did you decide to stay on permanently?"


    T''Pol''s expression remained neutral, but there was a softness in her eyes as she replied. "It was not a single moment of decision, but a gradual realization. The Enterprise''s mission aligned with my desire for scientific discovery and exploration. Moreover, I found that I... valued the relationships I had formed with the crew."


    Tyson leaned back in his chair, cradling his bowl of soup. "It must have been a big step, choosing to stay with a human crew instead of returning to Vulcan."


    "It was not without its challenges," T''Pol admitted. "My decision was met with disapproval from some quarters of the Vulcan High Command. However, I believed then, as I do now, that it was the logical choice."


    Riker nodded, his expression thoughtful. "Logic guided by intuition ¨C sounds like you found a balance between Vulcan principles and human unpredictability."


    "An interesting observation, Commander," T''Pol replied. "I have found that there is often wisdom in finding a middle ground between seemingly opposing viewpoints."


    As they continued to talk, the conversation flowing easily between them, Riker couldn''t help but marvel at the situation. Here he was, sharing a meal with a legendary figure from Starfleet''s past, in a pocket dimension created by a mysterious guest on his ship. The universe, it seemed, was full of endless surprises.


    His blue eyes sparkled with interest as he turned to Tyson. "So, who is the other guest you were interested in inviting?"


    Tyson''s lips quirked into a small smile as he answered. "An artificial being named Vicky. She''s similar to Commander Data but more advanced."


    Riker''s eyebrows shot up, disbelief etched across his features. "More advanced?" The idea seemed almost impossible, given Data''s impressive capabilities.


    Tyson nodded, his expression earnest. "Vicky''s raw processing power should or greater than Data, and she lacks his limitations. She can feel emotions." He paused, adding, "But she''s in that other reality. Would you like to visit her?"


    Riker considered for a moment before shaking his head, "Coming here stretches what''s appropriate," he explained, gesturing to the surreal surroundings of Tyson''s Personal Reality. "Visiting another reality would require away mission approval from the captain at a minimum. And there isn''t much time before I must return to the Enterprise. We''re due in the Rubicun System shortly."


    Tyson nodded easily, accepting the explanation without argument. "Maybe next time," he said.


    Riker''s expression softened as he saw the young man''s enthusiasm. "I promise I''ll speak with the Captain on your and T''Pol''s behalf," he assured. He stood, straightening his uniform with a practiced motion. "Any chance for a lift back?" he asked, a hint of his usual charm returning to his voice.


    Tyson''s response was immediate and accommodating. He walked to the door of the Housing Complex. It opened, no longer leading to another part of the Personal Reality but opening directly into 13-Forward instead.


    Riker stepped through, marveling at the seamless transition. One moment he was in Tyson''s realm, the next he was back in the familiar surroundings of the Enterprise''s lounge.


    The Commander mulled over the implications of what he had seen and learned. T''Pol''s presence, the mention of this advanced android named Vicky, and the casual way Tyson moved between realities were difficult to process. Yet, as a Starfleet officer, Riker had seen his fair share of the extraordinary.


    "Thank you for sharing this with me, Tyson," Riker said, his voice low to avoid drawing attention from the other crew members in 13-Forward. "It''s... well, it''s incredible. I''ll make sure to give the Captain a full report."


    "I appreciate that, Commander. I know it''s a lot to take in."


    "That''s what we''re out here for." As Riker turned to leave, his mind already shifting to the upcoming mission in the Rubicun System, he couldn''t help but feel a sense of wonder. The universe, it seemed, was full of even more mysteries than he had imagined. And somehow, through a twist of fate, cosmic coincidence, or interference from powerful alien entities, many of those mysteries had found their way onto the Enterprise.


    Tyson closed the door and Riker stepped toward them. They opened back into the Deck 13 corridor. The doors of 13-Forward hissed shut behind him as he strode into the corridor, leaving Tyson behind. Riker''s steps were purposeful as he headed towards the bridge, mentally preparing his report for Captain Picard. It would be a delicate conversation, balancing the potential benefits of T''Pol''s knowledge against the risks of extra-temporal visitors.


    But as he entered the turbolift, Riker couldn''t suppress a smile. This was why he had joined Starfleet. For the thrill of discovery.


    The bridge of the Enterprise hummed with activity as Commander Riker strode in, his eyes immediately drawn to Science Station 2. He leaned over the console, studying the readings from the planet they were orbiting with intense focus. The air was charged with anticipation, the promise of shore leave hanging tantalizing in the air.


    Captain Picard''s voice cut through the background noise, his tone thoughtful. "The planet''s life forms are almost identical to us."


    Counselor Troi, seated next to Wesley Crusher, smiled softly. "He''s very enthusiastic."


    The whoosh of the turbolift doors announced Dr. Crusher''s arrival. She stepped onto the bridge, her eyes seeking out the captain. "Captain? Sorry, Troi," she said, her voice tinged with excitement and apology.


    Troi waved off the interruption with a graceful gesture. "The Doctor has something very important to tell you, Captain."


    Picard''s eyebrows raised slightly, a hint of amusement in his voice. "You''ve been talking about it for days. Shore leave for the crew."


    Dr. Crusher nodded emphatically, her words tumbling out in a rush. "Establishing that colony has been exhausting for the entire crew, Captain. We''re not a supply vessel. Settling all those people has been a strain on everyone. I''m tired myself."


    Riker, Data, and Lieutenant Yar entered the bridge, their presence drawing all eyes. Picard turned to his First Officer. "Is it as good as your report suggests, Number One?"


    "As per report, sir. Class M, Earth-like, beautiful."


    Dr. Crusher''s eyes lit up at the description. "It sounds wonderful for the children. The holodecks are marvelous, of course, but there''s nothing like open spaces and fresh air."


    Tasha Yar stepped forward, her posture crisp and professional. "I''ve listed my report on their customs and laws, sir. Fairly common sense things."


    From his position at the helm, Geordi La Forge chimed in. "They''re wild in some ways, actually puritanical in others. Neat as pins, ultra-lawful, but make love at the drop of a hat."


    "Any hat," Tasha added with a smile.


    Picard''s expression turned serious, his years of command experience coming to the fore. "But the happiest report must have its negatives. Let''s start with them, Number One."


    Riker shook his head, his confidence unwavering. "There are none, sir. Not that any of us can find."


    Data''s yellow eyes flickered as he processed information. "But there is a problem here, sir."


    Worf''s deep voice rumbled from his security station. "It''s the faulty reading I reported, sir."


    Data elaborated, his tone as precise as ever. "I''m reading something off the starboard bow, but there is nothing there."


    Tasha quickly reassured the captain. "Sensor technicians are working on it, sir. They''ve identified it as a glitch in the system."


    Picard''s gaze swept across his senior officers, his voice carrying a note of skepticism. "I take it you find no glitch with this planet, however?"


    "No, sir," Riker confirmed, his enthusiasm undiminished.


    Tasha seized the moment. "If you approve shore leave, sir, we could start with a small group."


    Picard nodded slowly, his eyes settling on Wesley. "Of course. Wesley? If we go down, I''d like you to join the away team to evaluate this world as a place for young people to relax."


    Wesley straightened in his seat, a mix of excitement and nervousness on his young face. "Yes, sir."


    Picard''s voice took on a cautionary tone. "If our scans and observations confirm the report then of course I''ll approve it. Let''s hope it is not too good to be true."Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.


    Riker cleared his throat, a new idea forming. "Sir, our guest, Tyson has been helpful recently. Since he''s from ancient Earth, he has yet to step foot on another planet in this galaxy, despite his stories about galaxies far, far away. Perhaps we should invite him. He''d probably get a kick out of it."


    Picard considered the suggestion for a moment, his expression thoughtful. "I''ve no problem with it. He seems well-equipped to handle any situation should something go wrong. You may bring him along at your discretion, Number One."


    ¡ª Star Jumper ¡ª


    The away team materialized in a breathtaking expanse of lush greenery. A meticulously tended garden stretched as far as the eye could see, bursting with vibrant colors and exotic fragrances. The air was crisp and clean, filled with the gentle hum of insects and the distant laughter of the planet''s inhabitants.


    As their eyes adjusted to the bright sunlight, the team took in their surroundings. The Edo people moved about with grace and purpose, their bodies sculpted to perfection. Their clothing, if it could be called that, was minimal ¨C just enough to preserve modesty while celebrating the beauty of the human form.


    Suddenly, two figures broke away from a nearby group, running towards the away team with unbridled enthusiasm. Worf tensed, his hand instinctively moving towards his phaser. "Careful, sir," he growled, eyes narrowed in suspicion.


    Riker held up a hand. "No, it''s all right, Lieutenant. Those are the Edo." His eyes swept over the approaching woman, appreciation evident in his gaze. "They certainly are fit," he murmured.


    Troi''s voice carried a hint of jealousy as she agreed, "They certainly are."


    The woman reached them first, her face glowing with warmth and welcome. "Health and happiness," she greeted them, her voice musical.


    The man arrived a moment later, his smile equally radiant. "A pleasant day to you," he added.


    The woman''s eyes locked onto Riker, her voice filled with delight. "It''s nice to finally see you in person." Without hesitation, she enveloped Riker in a slow, loving hug. Troi''s posture stiffened ever so slightly, her empathic senses picking up on the raw sensuality of the interaction.


    Riker, ever the diplomat, made the introductions. "Rivan, Liator. Also from our vessel, Troi."


    Liator''s attention immediately shifted to the counselor. "Slowly, slowly. I must also welcome this lovely one." He leaned in, nuzzling Troi''s neck. She responded with an awkward pat on his shoulder, clearly caught off guard by the intimate greeting.


    "Nice to meet you," Tasha chimed in, her usual guard lowered by the planet''s peaceful aura.


    Riker turned to Troi, his voice taking on a more professional tone. "Counselor?"


    Troi''s response was measured, her empathic abilities working overtime. "Healthy sensuality, sir. I feel mainly friendship, and," she glanced at Tasha, "happiness."


    Rivan''s attention shifted to Worf, her eyes widening with delight. "And I welcome this huge one. Oh, yes." She embraced the Klingon, who returned the hug with surprising gentleness.


    "Nice planet," Worf rumbled.


    Rivan then moved to Tyson, wrapping him in an equally enthusiastic hug. "So strong," she commented, her hands lingering on his arms.


    Finally, she approached Wesley, her manner softening. "But you are a young one. I do not know your custom regarding love."


    Wesley shuffled his feet, clearly uncomfortable. "Er. I guess, whatever you usually do." Rivan gave him a fleeting hug, sensing his discomfort.


    Riker, sensing the need to move things along, spoke up. "There are others who would like to visit here, if you would give us a limit on the numbers."


    Liator''s response was immediate and welcoming. "Whatever pleases you. We can discuss it at the Council Chambers."


    "Shall we go there now or remain in play?"


    Riker''s eyebrows shot up. "Play?"


    "At love," Rivan explained as if it were the most natural thing in the world. Her gaze shifted to Worf. "Unless you don''t enjoy that. Perhaps you do?"


    Liator turned his attention back to Troi, who blushed furiously. "And you? Yes, I can see that you do."


    Wesley, looking increasingly uncomfortable, stammered, "Maybe I should just go on ahead."


    Rivan''s face softened with understanding. "Oh, this is unfair to him. We''ll go to the Council Chambers. You''ll find young people your age there."


    Wesley said, "Well, I can''t make any promises."


    Liator was quick to reassure him. "You don''t have to. Our rules are simple. No one does anything uncomfortable to them."


    Rivan clapped her hands together, her enthusiasm infectious. "Come! Our people will want to know you."


    Liator glanced at the away team, a hint of concern in his voice. "Rivan, perhaps they can''t run."


    Wesley''s competitive spirit flared to life. "Can''t run? Sure we can run. Right, Commander?"


    "That''s the custom here, running. Lead the way."


    As they set off along a paved path, Riker couldn''t resist a quip. "When in Rome, eh?"


    Worf''s brow furrowed in confusion. "When in where, sir?"


    Tyson, seizing the opportunity to share his knowledge, chimed in. "Rome was an ancient Earth civilization. From what I recall in history, lots of free love, decent culture, decent fighters, all-around good stuff."


    Worf''s interest was piqued. "I shall have to look up Rome," he declared in a serious tone.


    As they ran through the lush landscape, the away team couldn''t help but be swept up in the infectious joy of the Edo. The sun warmed their skin, the air filled their lungs, and for a moment, the weight of their responsibilities seemed to lift from their shoulders.


    Riker found himself running alongside Rivan, stealing glances at her graceful form. Troi, despite her initial jealousy, was engaged in an animated conversation with Liator, and her empathic abilities allowed her to navigate their cultural differences with ease. Worf and Tasha brought up the rear, their security training never quite allowing them to fully relax, even in this seeming paradise. Tyson kept pace easily, his eyes taking in every detail of this alien world. For all his tales of far-off galaxies, this was his first alien planet in this reality.


    As they approached the Council Chambers, Riker couldn''t shake the feeling that this was too good to be true. Years of Starfleet experience had taught him that paradise often came with a price. But for now, he pushed those thoughts aside, determined to enjoy the peace and beauty.


    The away team approached a low-rise building, its elegant architecture seamlessly blending with the natural surroundings. Formal fountains adorned the front, their gentle splashing creating a soothing ambiance. They slowed their pace as they neared the entrance to the Council Chambers.


    Rivan''s voice rang out, filled with genuine warmth. "Good health! I thought you might be out of breath."


    Riker''s response was tinged with a hint of pride. "We may surprise you in a lot of ways."


    Rivan''s voice rose above the gentle hum of activity. "Everyone! We''ve brought the visitors!"


    Liator spread his arms wide, his voice warm and inviting. "Please enjoy what we have!"


    The Edo gathered around them, their faces alight with curiosity and welcome. As the team dispersed to mingle, Tyson approached Riker, his voice low and curious. "Since all seems to be normal here, may I invite T''Pol to join me?"


    Riker considered for a moment before responding. "Since we''re not on the ship and technically on shore leave, you''re free to do as you like, so long as you don''t violate any of the laws here."


    Liator''s attention shifted to Wesley, his voice filled with enthusiasm. "Children, we''ve brought you a new friend!"


    A young Edo boy stepped forward, his face bright with curiosity. "Well, hello," he said to Wesley, welcoming. "Join us."


    A girl chimed in, her voice equally inviting. "Yes, please."


    Tyson''s hand shot out, grasping Wesley''s arm firmly. The teen turned, surprise etched across his face but he wasn''t about to challenge Tyson after remembering how easily he''d been manhandled during the Tsilokovsky incident.


    Something about this whole situation had been nagging at Tyson, a persistent itch at the back of his mind that he couldn''t quite scratch.


    "Hey Wesley, before you go running off..." Tyson began, his voice low and cautious. He turned to face Riker, his brow furrowed with concern. "Commander, are there any rules we need to be appraised of? You said I could bring T''Pol so long as I don''t violate any laws, but no one has explained what the laws are exactly."


    Riker''s easy smile faltered for a moment, his eyes narrowing as he considered Tyson''s words.


    His brow furrowed slightly as he realized the potential oversight. Turning to Liator, he asked, "You said earlier we could bring as many people as we like to the surface, does that still stand? Are there any laws we need to be aware of?"


    Liator''s response was immediate and reassuring. "Of course, you may allow any you wish to come."


    Rivan jumped in, her voice taking on a more serious tone. "Oh, we have very few laws. The enforcers of those laws are called Mediators. And they are needed only in one place each day."


    Liator nodded, adding, "The punishment zone. An area that''s selected for a period of time."


    Tasha''s security instincts kicked in, her voice sharp with curiosity. "An area? Is it a completely random selection?"


    Liator''s explanation was tinged with pride. "No one but our Mediators knows what place or for how long. We''re very proud of the wisdom of our ancestors. No person ever knows where or when a zone will be."


    "We have but one law, and it''s simple enough for even a child to understand," Rivan said flippantly.


    Liator nodded in agreement, his arm draped casually around Troi''s shoulders. "Yes, just one law. Break it, and the punishment is always death."


    A hush fell over the away team, the stark contrast between the Edo''s carefree demeanor and the severity of their words jarring.


    Rivan''s voice was filled with conviction. "And so no one risks death."


    Worf''s head snapped up, his eyes narrowing. "Death?"


    Rivan nodded solemnly. "By breaking any law."


    Tasha''s voice was tight with concern. "Wait. Explain this."


    Liator''s response was matter-of-fact. "Only one punishment for any crime."


    Worf''s voice rumbled with disbelief. "Anyone who commits any crime in the punishment zone dies?"


    Liator remained unperturbed. "The law is the law. Our peace is built on that."


    Tasha pressed further, her voice incredulous. "Even a small thing? Such as ignoring the rule, keep off the grass?"


    "Then no one breaks that rule. Who wants to risk execution? And there''s always a white wall or fence to remind anyone of a forbidden area like that." Rivan''s response was filled with a certainty that sent chills down the away team''s spines. "It is how we maintain our peace and order. The zones move randomly, ensuring that all citizens remain vigilant and law-abiding at all times."


    Tasha''s voice was sharp with frustration. "And just who tells visitors about these rules?"


    Riker''s jaw clenched as he turned to face their Edo hosts. "You didn''t think to mention this crucial detail when we first arrived?" His voice was calm, but there was an undercurrent of steel that betrayed his anger.


    Liator looked genuinely confused by Riker''s reaction. "We assumed you were aware. It is the foundation of our society. We meant no harm by not explicitly stating it."


    Troi, sensing the rising tension, stepped in. "I believe there''s been a misunderstanding on both sides," she said, "Perhaps we should all take a moment to discuss these laws in more detail, to ensure there are no... incidents."


    Riker''s voice was measured as he spoke, his diplomatic training coming to the fore. He held up a hand, silencing the growing murmurs of concern from his team. Turning to face Rivan and Liator, he said seriously, "The Counselor is right. I think we need to have a more in-depth discussion about your laws and customs before we proceed any further. Perhaps we could speak with your leaders?"


    Rivan''s smile never faltered. "Of course," she said, her voice still light and airy. "The Council would be happy to meet with you. Shall we go inside?"


    ¡ª Star Jumper ¡ª


    The crystalline waters of the Edo world sparkled under twin suns, casting prismatic patterns across the pristine white buildings that dotted the landscape. Tyson stood at the edge of a flowering garden. The tension from Wesley''s near-brush with death still lingered in the air, but the immediate crisis had passed. While Commander Riker and the others engaged in diplomatic discourse with the Edo leadership, Tyson was left on his own.


    With a gesture, Tyson opened a portal from his Personal Reality. The air rippled like heat waves rising from sun-baked earth, and through the dimensional gateway emerged an unlikely congregation. They stepped through cautiously at first, then with increasing wonder as they took in their surroundings. The group consisted of species from across the quadrant, all former prisoners of the Automated Repair Facility, now restored to full health through the miraculous capabilities of his Medical Bay.


    "Welcome to Rubicun, home of the Edo," Tyson announced, his voice carrying the warmth of a mentor addressing eager students. "As you can see, it''s quite different from the facility where I found you." He gestured to the paradise around them, where Edo citizens moved through their daily routines.


    A Vaadwaur female with scaled ridges along her forehead and tracking the sides of her neck stepped forward with the characteristic confidence of her species. "This is... most unusual," she observed, her violet eyes scanning the surroundings with tactical precision. "These people appear to have no defensive installations, no military presence. How do they survive?"


    "An astute observation," Tyson replied, sharing a knowing smile. "The Edo have evolved beyond many of the concerns that plague other worlds. However," he raised a finger in caution, "this paradise comes with its own strict rules. This brings me to a few points, while you''re here to enjoy yourselves, there must be absolutely no violence toward the locals. Additionally, there are exclusion zones, marked by white fencing, avoid these areas upon penalty of death."


    A Romulan male crossed his arms. "You speak as though we are to remain here. Are we not prisoners simply transferred to a more pleasant facility?"


    "You''re not prisoners at all. My Medical Bay didn''t just heal your bodies, it restored your minds to what they were before the facility''s influence. Unfortunately, it''s difficult for me to return you to where you once came. Particularly you two." He said, gesturing to the Romulan and Vaadwaur. "Your species are either too far away, or not openly diplomatic with the Federation. It may take some time for us to return you home."


    A human woman with graying temples stepped forward. "I remember everything," she said softly, her voice trembling slightly. "Both what was done to us and how you saved us. But why bring us here, specifically?"


    The gardens around them were filled with the sweet scent of alien flowers as a warm breeze rustled through the vegetation. Tyson took a moment to consider his response, watching as a group of Edo children played in the distance, their laughter carrying across the peaceful landscape.


    "The Edo world represents a place where pleasure and harmony coexist with strict rules and consequences. I thought it might serve as a gentle reintroduction to society, a place where you can remember who you are while deciding what you want to become. This is a temporary respite, I don''t mean to leave you here permanently."


    A Ferengi trader rubbed his hands together with characteristic enthusiasm. "And what of opportunity? Surely in such a paradise, there must be potential for... profitable ventures?" His eyes gleamed with renewed entrepreneurial spirit.


    "All things in moderation," Tyson cautioned, though his tone remained light. "The Edo have their own economy and their own ways. Observe, learn, but remember, this is their home. We are guests here." He turned to address the entire group, his presence commanding yet reassuring. "Each of you represents a different culture, a different perspective. Use this time to heal, to learn from each other, and to rediscover yourselves."


    The assembled group began to disperse slightly, drawn by different aspects of their surroundings. The Romulan found himself drawn to a group of Edo engaged in philosophical discourse, while the human woman simply stood still, face turned toward the sun, absorbing the warmth and freedom.


    "Remember, while the Edo are peaceful, their justice is absolute."


    The human woman''s eyes showed both gratitude and lingering uncertainty. "And what happens now? Do we just... live? After everything we''ve been through?"


    "Living is exactly what you should do," Tyson replied gently. "The facility took much from you, but it couldn''t take everything. Your strength, your resilience, those are still yours. Use this time to remember that."


    A small group of Edo approached, their curiosity evident in their open expressions. Their welcoming demeanor worked its gentle magic on the rescued group. Their perpetual smiles radiated a contagious peace that even the Romulans couldn''t resist. Tyson observed with quiet satisfaction as his charges gradually dispersed among the locals, their defensive postures softening like ice under a warm sun. The Ferengi had already engaged a group of Edo in an animated discussion about their society''s resource distribution, while the Vaadwaur found herself drawn into a demonstration of their athletic practices.


    T''Pol remained at his side, her presence as steady and composed as a mountain stream. Her Vulcan features remained carefully neutral, but Tyson had spent enough time around her to recognize the subtle signs of analytical interest in the slight tilt of her head and the measured way her dark eyes tracked the interactions before them.


    "Your solution to their rehabilitation is... unconventional," T''Pol observed, her tone carrying that particular Vulcan inflection that managed to convey both statement and question simultaneously. "Are you certain this exposure to such a hedonistic society is logical, given their recent trauma?"


    Tyson turned to face her, appreciating her directness. "To be honest, I''m not entirely sure," he admitted, watching as the human woman tentatively accepted an Edo''s invitation to join their meditation circle. "But sometimes healing requires more than logic. These people need to remember how to live, not just survive. My hope is that this place will help them find that balance."


    "Would you care to elaborate on your reasoning?" she asked, then added with characteristic precision, "Perhaps we could conduct a more thorough observation of the environment. A walk through the settlement would provide additional data points for analysis."


    A smile tugged at the corner of Tyson''s mouth. "I would appreciate your company, T''Pol. Shall we?" He gestured toward a winding path that led through a grove of trees.


    They walked in companionable silence for several moments, their footsteps whisper-quiet on the immaculate white stone pathway. The air around them was filled with the sweet perfume of alien flowers and the distant sounds of laughter and conversation. Tyson could sense T''Pol processing everything with her characteristic methodical attention to detail.


    "This world exists far beyond the boundaries of explored space in your time," Tyson explained, pausing to allow an Edo child to cross their path, chasing what appeared to be a floating geometric toy. "It''s positioned on the opposite side of what will become Federation space from the Klingon Empire. In fact," he continued, noting T''Pol''s subtle shift in posture that indicated increased interest, "this is humanity''s first contact with the Edo. From your temporal perspective, it will be several centuries before humans discover this world."


    T''Pol absorbed this information with a slight nod, her hands clasped behind her back. "The temporal implications are... significant," she observed, watching as a group of Edo demonstrated their unique form of dance to the fascinated Romulan youth. "Your intervention in bringing us here could have substantial ramifications for the timeline."


    The path opened up to reveal a spectacular view of the Edo city. Tyson gazed out over the pristine landscape, his expression thoughtful as he considered T''Pol''s concerns. "Perhaps you''re right about the temporal implications," he said, "Or perhaps not. If we consider the variables carefully, returning them to their own people in this timeline would likely have minimal impact." He gestured toward the scattered groups of survivors, each finding their way to integrate with the peaceful society around them. "Who can say how long they were trapped within the Automated Repair Facility? Some may have been there for decades. We have no way to know what remains of their former lives."


    T''Pol observed a group of Edo demonstrating their exercise routines to the curious survivors. "The technological level of this society appears to be relatively primitive in comparison to many spacefaring races," she noted as she worked through a logical progression. "Their knowledge would be unlikely to provide any significant tactical or strategic advantage to the survivors."


    "Exactly," Tyson agreed, watching as an Edo child offered a flower to the Vaadwaur female, who accepted it with surprising gentleness. "The Edo''s technology won''t give them any kind of meaningful insights or edge. If anything, this place might help them heal without risking temporal contamination." He paused. "Besides, if we''re discussing potential timeline alterations¡­ saving you might have the greatest impact of any change I could make to your timeline."


    "It would be inadvisable to disclose elements of my future to me," she stated firmly, her tone carrying a note of warning. "Such revelations could, in themselves, have a greater impact on the timeline than any of our other actions here."


    Tyson raised both hands in a gesture of acquiescence.


    Episode: Star Trek The Next Generation - Justice Complete!


    +50 RP


    Reality Points: 200


    <hr>


    Tyson


    Origins: Human, Humanoid, Drop-In, Space Pirate, Bad Guy


    Race: Augment Human-Betazoid (Hybrid)


    Character Points: 1400, [250 KOTOR (Vicky)]


    Reality Points: 200


    Ship Points: 1700


    Credits: 116,450


    Status Effects: (none)


    Drawbacks:


    Gauntlet (Locked)


    Ensign Marty Stu


    A Simple Re''Q''uest


    Hybrid (Betazoid)


    Amok Time/Blood Fever


    Outlawed


    Mary Sue


    Perks:


    Cosmic Awareness


    Out of Nowhere


    Going Native


    Live and Let Live


    This is (Not?) Rocket Science


    Kinda Bland


    Determinator


    Painted On


    Snakeskin


    Adaptable


    Duelist


    Master with your Hands


    Best of the Best


    Everything Is A Weapon


    Augment


    Force Specialization: Intelligence


    Tactical Info


    Sever Force


    Items:


    Laser Blade


    Spacesuit


    Agony Booth


    Cloaking Minefield


    Lightsaber


    Gray Goo Suit


    Companions:


    (Vicky) V-KO IV Nursedroid: Access Key, Artificial Intelligence Upgrade, Gray Goo Upgrade, Master With Your Hands, Light Weapon, Jumper''s Master Key, Scaling Cloak, Origin:Jedi, Force Specialization: Intelligence, Enhanced Mind, Lightsaber, Armored Robes, Battle Meditation


    T''Pol: Access Key


    Personal Reality:


    Access Key (Additional Keys, Key Link)


    Security System


    High-Security Inter-Reality Connecting Door (Star Trek Enterprise, Star Wars Knights of the Old Republic)


    Medical Bay (The Nano-Medical Lab, The Bio-Synthesis Lab, Microbiome Replacement Lab)


    Housing Complex (Basic Nutrition, Choice Apartments, Who''s Got the Powa, Pipes Pipes Pipes)


    Playing With Portals (Portal Link, Portal Control Rod, Free Portal)


    Spaceships:


    Tramp Freighter (Destroyed - Respawn on 02/28/2365)


    Sith Interceptor (Bridge Upgrade)


    Automated Repair Station (Ship Size Rating: IV, Station, Bridge, Space Hulk, Artificial Gravity, Cryo-Chambers, Auto-Repair System, Synapses, Distributed, Automated Ship, Analytic Suite, Docking Port, Transporter Room, Matter Printer, Negentropy Reactor, Deflector Shields, Clarketech Module, Production Lines, Hangar, Cargo Bay, Living Quarters)

 Season 2: Episode 17 - Cultural Exploration

    Author''s Note: I usually don''t do pre-chapter author''s notes, but I do give warnings in rare cases when appropriate. This chapter contains Explicit Sexual Content and is completely skippable if you''re not interested.


    Episode 17 - Cultural Exploration


    Stardate: 41255.6


    Earth Standard Date: April 3, 2364.


    Location: Edo Colony, Rubicun, Hetonas Cluster, Alpha Quadrant


    Tyson and T''Pol''s path took them past various gathering spots where the Edo unique cultural practices were on full display. The afternoon light softened as they continued their walk through the Edo settlement, casting everything in a gentle golden hue. The locals'' uninhibited affection for one another became increasingly apparent, with couples and groups engaged in intimate exchanges that ranged from tender embraces to passionate displays of physical affection.


    T''Pol observed these interactions with characteristic Vulcan restraint, though Tyson noticed her left eyebrow arch slightly higher with each passing display. Around them, the air was filled with the sweet scent of blooming flowers and the gentle sound of running water from numerous decorative fountains. The peaceful atmosphere seemed designed to encourage the kind of emotional openness that the Edo clearly embraced.


    "Does the public display of emotional behavior cause you discomfort?" T''Pol asked, maintaining her perfect posture as they walked, hands clasped behind her back in stark contrast to the relaxed demeanor of everyone around them.


    Tyson couldn''t help but chuckle at her characteristic directness. The sound earned him another raised eyebrow, but he noted the slight softening around her eyes that suggested she wasn''t entirely unamused. "Shouldn''t I be asking you that? I''m comfortable enough," he replied, guiding them toward a quieter garden path. "Though I admit, the Edo''s approach to expressing emotion is rather more... demonstrative than most cultures I''ve encountered. It presents an interesting contrast to Vulcan social norms, doesn''t it?"


    The garden path opened into a secluded courtyard where several stone benches surrounded a crystalline fountain. The water caught the light of the setting sun and scattered it in rainbow patterns across the white stone walls. A couple of Edo passed by, their fingers intertwined and their movements synchronized in an almost dance-like harmony.


    "Vulcan social norms evolved from necessity," T''Pol explained, her gaze following the couple with analytical interest. "The intensity of Vulcan emotions required the development of strict behavioral protocols. Humans, however, seem to find multiple approaches to managing their emotional responses. The Edo appear to have chosen complete emotional freedom, yet they maintain a functioning society with such a singular strict law. It is... paradoxical."


    They settled onto one of the benches, maintaining a respectful distance that nonetheless felt somehow intimate in the romantic setting. The fountain''s gentle splashing provided a soothing backdrop to their conversation.


    "Your species has always fascinated me," Tyson admitted, watching as the last rays of sunlight painted the clouds in shades of purple and gold. "The way Vulcans channel such powerful emotions through logic and discipline. It''s its own kind of beauty, isn''t it?"


    T''Pol turned to face him, her expression maintaining its composed neutrality even as her eyes showed a flash of something deeper. "Beauty is a subjective assessment," she stated, though her tone carried a hint of what might have been appreciation. "However, the logical principles that guide Vulcan society have proven effective in maintaining peace and advancing scientific understanding."


    A group of Edo children ran past their courtyard laughing. They were playing some sort of game that involved tossing a ball between them. "And yet," Tyson observed, gesturing toward the children, "here''s a society that has achieved peace through almost the opposite approach. Complete emotional openness, guided by just a few absolute rules."


    "The comparison is not entirely accurate," T''Pol countered, though her tone remained thoughtful rather than dismissive. "Vulcans do not suppress emotion; we master it through discipline and logical examination. The Edo appear to have developed their own form of discipline, channeling their emotional expressions within specific societal frameworks." She watched as an Edo couple shared a passionate embrace near the fountain, their movements both spontaneous and somehow ritualistic. "Their behavioral patterns suggest a deep understanding of their emotional nature, even if their methods of managing it differ significantly from Vulcan practices."


    The settling dusk brought with it a gentle cooling breeze that carried the sweet scent of night-blooming flowers. Small lights began to illuminate throughout the garden, their soft glow creating an atmosphere that even a Vulcan might have admitted was romantic. Tyson noticed T''Pol''s perfect posture had relaxed slightly, almost imperceptibly to anyone who hadn''t spent time around her.


    "Perhaps that''s what draws humans and Vulcans together," Tyson suggested. "Different approaches to understanding and managing the complexity of emotion while driving the advancement of science and society. Two species finding different paths to the same destination."


    "Your observation has merit. The alliance between humans and Vulcans has proven beneficial precisely because of our complementary approaches and perhaps our ability to temper each other. However, I wonder if Edo''s method of complete emotional freedom could be successfully integrated into other societies. Integration between different social approaches requires careful consideration. The success of human-Vulcan relations suggests that seemingly opposite methodologies can find common ground, but it requires mutual understanding and respect for differing perspectives."


    She turned slightly toward Tyson, "Your ability to bridge such gaps is... fascinating."


    "My ability to bridge gaps? How so?" Tyson asked, genuinely interested.


    T''Pol''s posture shifted slightly. The change brought her a fraction closer to Tyson on the bench. "You demonstrate an unusual capacity for understanding and adapting to different cultural paradigms," she explained, her tone carrying that particular Vulcan inflection that suggested she was sharing the results of careful observation. "Your interactions with the Edo, the rescued survivors, and... myself indicate an ability to comprehend and respect diverse philosophical approaches while maintaining your own distinct identity."


    The evening air carried the sweet scent of evening blooms as Tyson absorbed her words. Around them, the Edo''s lights had taken on a softer glow, creating an atmosphere that seemed designed for intimate conversation.


    "I find some cultures easier to understand than others." The subtle emphasis he placed on his words wasn''t lost on his companion.


    "You find Vulcan culture particularly comprehensible?" she asked, "Despite our significant differences from human norms?"


    "Perhaps it''s because of those differences, not despite them," Tyson suggested. "Vulcan logic provides a clarity and directness that I find... refreshing."


    The evening''s peaceful atmosphere enveloped them as T''Pol considered his words. "Your understanding appears to extend beyond mere academic appreciation. You demonstrate an emotional intelligence that suggests personal investment in these cultural exchanges."


    "Personal investment?" he echoed, "That sounds almost like an emotional observation, T''Pol."


    "Vulcans are not immune to recognizing emotional connections. We simply choose to examine them through the lens of logic and reason. Your presence has provided numerous opportunities for such examination." The words hung in the air between them, weighted with unspoken implications that even Vulcan logic couldn''t fully suppress.


    "Are you implying we have an emotional connection?"


    "Emotional connections are complex phenomena that can be analyzed through multiple frameworks. When two individuals demonstrate consistent mutual understanding and intellectual compatibility, it would be illogical to dismiss the potential for deeper connections. I have observed that our interactions consistently produce fascinating results. Your presence generates a marked increase in mental stimulation and..." she paused, choosing her next words with deliberate care, "...physiological responses that warrant further investigation."


    A gentle breeze stirred the air around them, carrying the sweet scent of night-blooming flowers. T''Pol''s posture remained perfect, but she had somehow drawn incrementally closer on the bench, close enough that Tyson could feel the subtle warmth radiating from her presence. "In the interest of scientific thoroughness," she continued, one eyebrow arching ever so slightly, "it would be logical to explore these responses in greater detail, perhaps under more controlled conditions. I find your company most agreeable. From a purely logical perspective, of course."


    "If I didn''t know any better, I''d think you just suggested we go on a date."


    "A ''date'' would be an imprecise term for a controlled investigation of interpersonal dynamics," she responded, her tone maintaining its characteristic neutrality even as her body language suggested heightened interest.


    "Perhaps we can start here, with the Edo," Tyson suggested, gesturing to the peaceful paradise around them. The fountain''s crystalline waters continued their gentle song, creating a backdrop of peaceful ambiance to their conversation.


    T''Pol tilted her head slightly. "Please clarify your suggestion."


    "They''re open with their emotional connections. If we''re exploring ours, it''s only logical that we take advantage of this environment." With a slight exertion of will, his Gray Goo Suit shifted and morphed, adapting to match the lighter, more casual attire of the Edo.


    T''Pol observed the transformation. Her gaze took in his athletic form with what could be described as more than scientific interest. "An efficient adaptation to local customs," she noted.


    "Shall we find you more appropriate attire?" Tyson suggested, gesturing toward the nearby Edo structures.


    "The adoption of local customs does have logical merit for anthropological study," T''Pol agreed, rising from the bench. "It would allow for more thorough observation of their social dynamics."


    Tyson waved to an Edo woman, who approached them with characteristic friendliness and welcomed them as she offered to assist. T''Pol followed her into one of the white structures. When she emerged several minutes later, T''Pol had exchanged her usual practical uniform for the lighter garments of the Edo. The fabric complimented her hair and skin tone in ways that Tyson hadn''t anticipated. It draped elegantly across her shoulders, accentuating her slender yet toned physique. On T''Pol, the garment flowed gracefully around her tall frame, the lower half billowing slightly.


    She seemed neither uncomfortable nor embarrassed by the change in attire. Despite the cultural shift, T''Pol''s demeanor remained unflappable. The corners of her mouth might have twitched upward slightly as she observed Tyson''s reaction to her change in attire, a subtle indication that she was not immune to the oddities of human behavior nor the flattery of appreciation.


    "Is this garment satisfactory?" she inquired.


    "You look... it''s a good fit," Tyson complimented. The Edo environment seemed to soften her in more ways than one. "The color suits you."


    "I have noted a tendency among humans to allocate significant value to aesthetic presentation," T''Pol replied, her tone one of academic interest. "If the visual stimulus created by my attire serves to facilitate our anthropological study, then the change in apparel may be considered a logical adaptation to local customs."


    "Absolutely," His smile grew wider as he allowed his eyes to linger on the striking image she presented. "It''s definitely... conducive to our research."


    "Then we should proceed with our examination of Edo social structures."


    "Lead the way," Tyson offered, extending his arm.


    They paused by a raised platform where a group of Edo musicians were performing. The music was melodic yet complex. T''Pol tilted her head slightly as she listened to the unfamiliar sounds. Tyson watched her carefully, noting the subtle change in her expression as the melody washed over her. A softening around her eyes, the faintest parting of her lips; it was as close to emotional vulnerability as he had seen in her.


    "Would you care to dance, T''Pol?" he asked, offering his hand with a respectful bow. "To better understand Edo social interactions, of course."


    Her eyes locked onto his, and T''Pol placed her hand in his. "From a purely anthropological perspective, I believe it is a logical next step." She observed the dancers with analytical precision, her dark eyes tracking their movements. "The choreography appears to follow discernible patterns," she noted. "Such study could provide valuable insights into their social dynamics."


    Through his enhanced abilities, Tyson quickly mapped the intricate dance patterns. His Augment nature allowed him to recreate the flowing movements perfectly after just moments of observation. T''Pol matched his lead with characteristic Vulcan precision, her own quick mind translating the dance into logical sequences of movement.


    "Your ability to adapt to their dance patterns is impressive," T''Pol observed as they moved together through the steps, her voice maintaining its usual controlled tone despite their proximity. The music guided them through turns and steps that brought them closer together, following the intimate style of the Edo dancers around them.


    Tyson guided them through another graceful turn, their faces close enough to speak quietly. "The dance seems designed to create a shared experience," he noted, observing the subtle green flush rising in T''Pol''s features. "The synchronized movements appear to serve a social purpose beyond mere entertainment."


    "Indeed," T''Pol responded, "The physical synchronization appears to facilitate emotional connection through shared movement and proximity." She paused as they executed another perfect turn. "I find myself experiencing... physiological responses to this proximity."


    The music flowed around them as they continued to move in perfect harmony. "Would you care to elaborate on these responses?" Tyson asked gently.


    T''Pol''s gaze met his, unwavering despite the intimate nature of their conversation. "My heart rate has increased by approximately twelve percent," she analyzed with characteristic Vulcan precision. "And I am experiencing a notable elevation in body temperature." The admission carried weight beyond the mere clinical observation of physical symptoms.


    The final notes of music drifted away on the evening breeze as they stepped away from the dance area. Around them, the Edo couples moved closer together, their dancing transitioning naturally into more intimate embraces. T''Pol''s analytical nature remained evident even as she stayed close to Tyson, and their proximity was maintained even after the dance had ended. "The choreography appears designed to facilitate pair bonding," she observed. "The gradual increase in physical proximity throughout the dance sequence serves to create an escalating sense of connection between partners." The garden''s ambient lighting caught the lingering flush in her features as she continued her analysis, "The synchronized movements trigger the release of several neurochemicals associated with emotional bonding. From an anthropological perspective, it is fascinating."


    Tyson guided them to a more private area of the garden, where the fountain''s gentle sounds provided a measure of seclusion. "Would you care to explore that connection further?" he asked, trying to strike a delicate balance between Vulcan control and emotional exploration.


    T''Pol subtly shifted her posture as she considered his question. "Perhaps you could elaborate on human customs in such situations," she suggested, "What would be considered appropriate progression in a human relationship?"


    "Human relationships tend to develop organically," he explained, "Physical contact usually begins gradually. Hand holding, hugs, kisses. Each step builds on mutual comfort and attraction."


    "Fascinating," T''Pol responded, her gaze dropping briefly to his lips before returning to meet his eyes. "Vulcan courtship follows more structured protocols. Physical contact, when it occurs, carries significant meaning."


    "Among my people," she continued, her voice taking on a deeper timbre, "a potential mate would first demonstrate their logical compatibility through extensive intellectual discourse. If both parties find merit in pursuing a deeper connection, they engage in carefully controlled physical contact."


    The garden''s ambient lighting caught the subtle green flush that had returned to her features as she explained, "The process is designed to prevent emotional overwhelm while allowing for the development of bonds. Each stage is marked by specific rituals and meditation practices."


    Tyson observed how her breathing had altered slightly during her explanation, suggesting that even discussing such matters affected her carefully maintained control. "And what stage would you consider appropriate for our current investigation?" he asked.


    T''Pol slightly arched her eyebrow as she considered his question. "Given our unique circumstances and the cultural environment we find ourselves in, a hybrid approach might be logical. While Vulcan tradition emphasizes careful progression, I have observed that humans often achieve positive results through more spontaneous exploration." She extended her hand toward him, fingers positioned in the traditional Vulcan gesture. "Perhaps we could begin with a controlled experiment in cultural exchange. The touching of fingers in this way would allow me to gauge our telepathic compatibility while respecting both human and Vulcan customs." she added, "I find myself... curious about how your unique abilities might interact with me. From a purely scientific perspective, of course."


    As their fingers touched, a subtle current of energy passed between them. The simple contact created an unexpected bridge, transforming the garden''s peaceful atmosphere into something more profound. Through the connection, Tyson sensed layers of carefully controlled emotions beneath T''Pol''s composed exterior.


    Her scientific curiosity blazed bright and clear. But underneath lay deeper currents. Fascination tinged with desire, caution wrapped around attraction, and a surprisingly powerful sense of trust. Each emotion was precisely categorized and contained, yet undeniably present.


    "Fascinating," T''Pol whispered, her voice carrying a hint of wonder that broke through her usual controlled tone. "Your mental presence is... unique. There is structure to your thoughts, a discipline I did not expect."


    Through their linked fingers, he sensed her appreciation of this unexpected compatibility.


    "Your emotional control is remarkable," he responded, aware of how his words carried additional weight through their connection. "But there''s passion beneath it. Not just suppressed but channeled. Refined."


    The flush on T''Pol''s features slightly deepened as she acknowledged the truth in his observation. "Vulcans do not lack emotions," she explained, the intimate connection adding depths of meaning to her words. "We choose to master them rather than be mastered by them. Through our touch, you can sense the complexity of this practice."


    Their linked fingers maintained the connection as the garden''s ambient sounds faded into background whispers. Through their bond, Tyson felt T''Pol''s careful analysis of their shared experience, her methodical mind categorizing each sensation even as she allowed herself to experience them fully.


    "Your abilities appear to enhance the connection. Perhaps we should explore this phenomenon more thoroughly."If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it.


    Through their touch, Tyson felt the precise moment when T''Pol allowed herself to lower certain barriers and share more of herself. Each point where their skin met formed a conduit for thoughts, emotions, and understanding that ran far deeper than words could express. Her thoughts brushed against his with deliberate grace, exploring the unique landscape of his consciousness. Through their link, she sensed his wonder at how such a simple touch could convey so much.


    "Your response to this form of contact is... compelling. You find it unusual that such minimal physical contact can create such profound intimacy." Through their bond, Tyson felt her analyzing his reactions, cataloging each nuance of his emotional response with characteristic Vulcan thoroughness. "Among my people, the touching of fingers is considered deeply intimate," she explained, "It is why when we greet each other, we abstain from physical contact. When we do touch, it is an invitation for deeper connection."


    Her free hand rose slowly, positioning itself parallel to their already joined fingers. "If you are amenable," she continued, "we might explore a more complete connection."


    "The ozh''esta allows for a more comprehensive sharing of consciousness." Her thoughts carried images of the traditional Vulcan gesture of both hands pressed together, fingers aligned in perfect symmetry. "Your unique abilities may create interesting variations in the traditional experience. From an empirical standpoint, such an investigation could prove most illuminating."


    Tyson felt her appreciation of how he understood the layers of meaning in her words and how he recognized the way she used scientific terminology to process and express deeper emotions. Through their touch, he sensed her growing comfort with their compatibility, both mental and physical. He felt the precise control she maintained over her breathing, her heart rate, and her entire physical response to their proximity. Yet beneath that control lay currents of genuine attraction and trust, carefully channeled but undeniably present.


    Tyson raised his free hand, aligning his fingers with T''Pol''s waiting gesture. As their hands came together, the connection deepened exponentially. The garden around them seemed to fade as their consciousness intertwined through the ozh''esta.


    T''Pol''s mental presence enveloped him with surprising warmth. Through their link, he experienced flashes of her life. The dry heat of Vulcan''s Forge. The first time, she questioned rigid doctrine. The thrill of scientific discovery. Each memory carried not just visual elements but complete sensory experiences filtered through her unique perspective. Their fingers remained perfectly aligned as the mental connection deepened. T''Pol''s breathing changed subtly, matching rhythm with his own. Through their link, he felt her awareness of their physical proximity, her careful analysis of her own responses to his presence.


    "This level of compatibility is unexpected," she admitted.


    Her thoughts brushed against his with increasing intimacy, no longer simply observing but actively engaging. He felt the precise moment when T''Pol chose to lower another layer of her mental shields. The gesture carried profound trust, allowing him to sense the depth of emotion she typically kept carefully controlled. Her consciousness twined with his, sharing not just thoughts but the essence of her being.


    Through their connection, he felt her appreciation of his respect for her boundaries and her growing trust in his ability to understand the complexity of Vulcan emotion. Her mental presence carried notes of something deeper than mere scientific interest, though she processed these feelings through the familiar framework of logical analysis. He felt her anticipation, carefully contained but unmistakable. Her thoughts carried images of human customs she had observed, analyzed, and perhaps privately contemplated. The connection revealed her curiosity about these expressions of affection, wrapped in layers of logical justification.


    Tyson leaned forward, drawn by their mental connection and physical proximity. Through their bond, he felt T''Pol''s pulse quicken slightly, her careful control wavering as their faces drew closer. Her thoughts carried no resistance, only curiosity and anticipation.


    Their lips met with gentle pressure.


    Through their linked hands and minds, Tyson felt T''Pol''s response, a cascade of sensation she processed with characteristic Vulcan precision even as she allowed herself to experience it fully.


    T''Pol broke their finger embrace, her hands moving with surprising swiftness to capture Tyson''s wrists. She pressed them back against the garden wall, her strength evident in the firmness of her grip. Though the telepathic connection had diminished with the loss of their traditional touch, something deeper remained. The earlier intimacy had created pathways through her mental defenses, allowing Tyson''s empathic senses to detect what lay beneath her controlled exterior.


    Their kiss deepened. Through their remaining connection, Tyson sensed the complexity of her emotional state. Decades of careful control warred with primal Vulcan passion.


    "Your strength exceeds mine," T''Pol murmured against his lips, her voice carrying undertones he had never heard before. Yet you allow this."


    Tyson recognized the significance of her actions. This was T''Pol choosing to express herself physically, stepping beyond the bounds of typical Vulcan behavior. Her control remained, but now it directed her actions rather than suppressing them.


    Her breathing had grown heavier, though she maintained its rhythm with characteristic discipline. Each press of her lips, each slight adjustment of her grip on his wrists, spoke of deliberate choice rather than loss of control. She was not surrendering to emotion but choosing to express it within the boundaries she defined. Through their empathic link, Tyson sensed layers of desire she had never before allowed herself to express.


    Her lips traced a path along his jaw before returning to capture his mouth once more. Through their connection, Tyson felt her appreciation of how he understood her need to maintain control even in passion. This was T''Pol choosing to show him a truth about herself, about the depth of emotion that lay beneath Vulcan logic.


    Tyson sensed he should show T''Pol a truth about himself, what he could be when he let loose his own restraints. The time had come to assert his own strength, to guide their shared experience to a new level. His hands moved with deliberate purpose, breaking T''Pol''s grip on his wrists. He created a portal against the garden wall.


    T''Pol''s eyes slightly widened as she realized what was happening. Tyson''s hand shot out, grasping T''Pol''s wrist in a mirror of her previous hold on him. She couldn''t resist as he spun her, maintaining his grip as he guided her forward. They stepped through the threshold, and the universe reoriented itself around them. Gravity shifted, and its pull now came from a different direction. For a heartbeat, they were weightless, and then they were falling, the familiar tug of gravity reasserting itself as they entered Tyson''s Personal Reality.


    They fell several feet, the distance between the portal and Tyson''s bed in his room within the Housing Complex. The landing was soft, the bed''s surface yielding beneath their combined weight. T''Pol put up a token struggle, her body instinctively resisting the sudden change in their circumstances. But through their connection, Tyson could still feel her desire.


    She kissed him hungrily, her lips conveying a passion that she had long kept in check.


    Tyson responded in kind, his own desire flaring in response to her unrestrained ardor. His hand released her wrist, fingers tracing the elegant lines of her face, her neck, the curve of her shoulder. Her free hand tangled in his hair, pulling him closer as she explored his taste and feel. T''Pol''s breathing grew heavier, and her heart rate accelerated in a way that she could no longer control or analyze. Her kisses grew more fervent, and her hands boldly explored Tyson''s body.


    He tore at her clothes, the fabric of T''Pol''s Edo attire no match for his strength. The simple garment parted easily, revealing the smooth, olive-toned skin beneath. The sight of her flushed with desire took his breath away. Her form was athletic yet undeniably feminine. Her breasts were large for her frame and perfectly formed, rising and falling with her quickened breath.


    As her clothing fell away, the Gray Goo Suit that had formed Tyson''s clothes dissolved. The advanced nanotechnology retracted into his body, leaving him as unclad as T''Pol.


    He leaned down, closing his lips around her nipple. The sensation was electric. Her back arched off the bed, pressing herself more firmly against his mouth. Her hands clenched into fists, the only outward sign of the wild storm of emotions raging within her. He reveled in her softness, the warmth that radiated from her body. His teeth grazed her sensitive flesh, eliciting a gasp.


    T''Pol went wild beneath him, her body writhing with passion she could no longer contain. Her mind, usually a bastion of calm and control, was a whirlwind of sensation and emotion. She could feel Tyson''s desire for her, a burning need that matched her own. Her hips bucked against his, seeking friction, seeking release from the exquisite torment he was inflicting upon her. Tyson''s free hand slid down her side, tracing the contours of her body before settling on the curve of her hip. His fingers dug into her flesh, holding her in place as he continued to lavish attention on her breasts.


    T''Pol''s mind was a maelstrom of thought and feeling, her usual Vulcan stoicism cast aside in the face of Tyson''s passion. She could feel the walls she had built around her emotions crumbling, revealing the raw, unfiltered truth of her desire. It was a vulnerability she had never allowed herself to experience, a surrender to the primal forces that bound them together.


    Tyson released her wrists, his hand moving to tangle in her hair. He pulled her head back, exposing the long line of her throat. His lips trailed a path of fire down her neck, each kiss leaving a mark upon her flawless skin. T''Pol''s hands were free, but she made no move to escape his embrace. Instead, her fingers clutched at his shoulders, holding him close as she lost herself in the sensation of his touch. His hand slid between their bodies, his fingers finding the slick heat at her core. T''Pol''s breath caught in her throat as he stroked in and out of her, each touch building her pleasure. She could feel Tyson''s arousal, his hard length pressed against her thigh. The knowledge that she had such an effect on him that she could provoke this kind of reaction only served to fuel her desire. His mouth claimed hers once more. T''Pol met him kiss for kiss. Her hips moved in time with the rhythm set by Tyson''s hand, her body seeking the release that was just out of reach. Her fingers dug into his back, the slight sting of her nails against his skin only serving to heighten his arousal.


    T''Pol''s body was a taut bowstring, vibrating with the tension of unfulfilled desire. Tyson''s touch had stoked a fire within her, a conflagration that consumed her carefully constructed facade of Vulcan composure.


    She ached for him, her need a palpable force that pulsed through her veins like liquid fire.


    Tyson withdrew his hand, leaving T''Pol feeling empty, a void that yawned wide and echoed with the absence of his touch. She reached for him, her fingers grasping at the air, trying to draw him back, to feel the heat of his skin against hers once more. Her body arched off the bed, a silent plea for completion, for the release that only he could provide. She was needy, a word that would have once caused her to recoil.


    Instead of mounting her, he leaned lower, his head descending between her legs.


    "Tyson, what are you doing?" T''Pol''s voiced, even as her fingers tangled in his hair, her body tensing as she tried to process the new sensation.


    In response, Tyson looked up at her, his eyes heavy with arousal. Then, without a word, he dove in, his tongue reaching for her most sensitive area.


    The first touch of his mouth was electric, a jolt of pure sensation that coursed through her. T''Pol''s back arched off the bed, a strangled gasp escaping her lips as Tyson''s tongue explored her with exquisite precision. His hands gripped her hips, holding her in place as he tasted her, his tongue delving into her wetness with a fervor that left her breathless.


    T''Pol''s mind was awhirl with sensation, her thoughts scattering like leaves in the wind. She had heard of such acts, of course, but the reality was far beyond anything she could have imagined. The intimacy was overwhelming, the feeling of his mouth on her most private place both shocking and profoundly arousing.


    Her body responded instinctively, her hips bucking against his face as she sought to deepen the contact. Her fingers tightened in his hair, pulling him closer as she surrendered to the waves of pleasure that washed over her.


    Tyson''s hands moved, one sliding up her body to cup her breast, his fingers rolling her nipple between his thumb and forefinger. The other hand slipped between her legs, his fingers joining his tongue in their quest to bring her pleasure.


    T''Pol''s world narrowed to the sensations that Tyson was evoking within her. Her mind was awash with emotions and sensations that she could barely comprehend, let alone control. Her body was no longer her own but an instrument that Tyson played with masterful skill. She could feel the tension building within her, a tightening coil that threatened to snap at any moment. Her breath came in short, sharp gasps, each one carrying her closer to the precipice.


    Tyson''s tongue moved faster, and then, with a final flick of his tongue, the coil within her sprang free. T''Pol''s body convulsed, her back arching off the bed as wave after wave of pleasure coursed through her. Her fingers clenched in Tyson''s hair, holding him to her as she rode out the storm of her orgasm.


    As the tremors subsided, T''Pol lay panting on the bed, her body slick with sweat, her mind reeling from the intensity of her release.


    He moved up her body, his lips trailing a path of fire up her stomach and her chest until he captured her mouth in a searing kiss.


    T''Pol could taste herself on his lips. Her hands moved over his body, exploring the hard planes of his chest, his shoulders, and the corded muscles of his arms. She could feel the evidence of his arousal, a hard length that pressed against her thigh, insistent and demanding.


    T''Pol''s body was still throbbing with the aftershocks of her orgasm, but she wanted more. She wanted to feel him inside her, to join their bodies in the most primal way possible. She reached down, her fingers wrapped around his shaft, guiding him toward her entrance. Tyson groaned against her mouth. He broke the kiss, his forehead resting against hers as he positioned himself at her entrance. Her body tensed in anticipation of what was to come.


    And then, he gently eased himself forward. Tyson was inside her. He slowly thrust, inch by inch, filling her. T''Pol''s mind went blank, her world narrowing to the feeling of him filling her, stretching her, completing her in a way that she had never imagined possible.


    They moved together. Each thrust brought them closer, not just physically but emotionally and spiritually. With each passing moment, the walls that T''Pol had built around her heart crumbled a little more until there was nothing left but the raw, unfiltered truth of her feelings for Tyson.


    As they climbed higher and higher, their bodies slick with sweat, their breaths coming in ragged gasps, T''Pol realized that she had surrendered more than just her body to Tyson.


    His hands moved with purpose, his fingers tracing the contours of T''Pol''s body, learning her secrets with each passing moment. Her skin was hot to the touch, flushed with the heat of her desire, her breathing ragged and uneven as she surrendered to the sensations that coursed through her.


    Tyson''s gaze locked with T''Pol''s, their eyes reflecting the depth of their shared passion. Her pupils were dilated, the black almost completely eclipsing her irises.


    Rolling them over, Tyson''s body shifted so that T''Pol was now on top. Her eyes widened slightly at the change in position, but she quickly adapted, her body instinctively adjusting to the new angle. She now straddled Tyson, her knees pressed into the bed on either side of his hips. Her hands rested on his chest, her fingers splayed against the hard planes of his muscles. The sight of her, poised above him, was intoxicating. She began to move, her hips rocking against his. Her body''s undulations were both mesmerizing and deeply arousing.


    Tyson''s hands moved to her hips, his fingers digging into her flesh as he guided her movements, his body thrusting up to meet hers with each downward stroke.


    The new position allowed T''Pol to take control and set the pace and depth of their union. She rode him with confidence. Her breasts bounced with each movement; the sight of her, flushed slightly green with passion and desire, pushed Tyson closer and closer to the edge.


    T''Pol''s eyes were closed, her head thrown back as she lost herself in the sensation of their joining. Her lips parted, soft moans escaping with each exhale. Her fingers clenched against Tyson''s chest, her nails leaving faint crescents in his skin.


    He could feel the tension building within her, a tightening of her muscles that signaled her approaching climax. His own body was coiled tight, every nerve ending alight with sensation. He could feel the heat of her, the slick wetness that surrounded him, the way her body clenched around him with each stroke.


    Their movements became more frenzied, their bodies slick with sweat as they climbed higher and higher.


    Tyson''s hands moved to her waist, and his fingers gripped her tightly as he thrust up into her with renewed vigor.


    T''Pol''s body stiffened, her movements becoming erratic. With a final, desperate cry, she tumbled over the edge, her body convulsing around his as wave after wave of pleasure washed over her. The sensation of her climax was too much for Tyson to bear. Releasing a guttural groan, he followed her, his body erupting within hers as his release claimed him.


    They clung to each other as the aftershocks of their shared climax rippled through their bodies. T''Pol collapsed onto Tyson''s chest, her body shuddering with the force of her orgasm. His arms wrapped around her, holding her close as they both struggled to catch their breath.


    Their hearts beat in tandem, their bodies were slick with sweat, and their breathing was ragged and uneven, but neither of them made any move to pull away. For a long moment, they simply lay there, their bodies still joined, their minds still linked.


    Eventually, T''Pol rolled off of Tyson, her body moving with a languorous grace that spoke of her satisfaction. She lay beside him, her head pillowed on his shoulder, her hand splayed across his chest.


    Tyson turned his head, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of her head. His hand moved to cover hers, their fingers intertwining. They lay together in silence, their bodies still humming with the aftereffects of their lovemaking. The connection between them was stronger than ever.


    ¡ª Star Jumper ¡ª


    T''Pol''s eyes drifted shut as her breathing slowed into the steady rhythm of slumber. The exertions of their lovemaking had exhausted her, and she gladly embraced the respite that sleep offered.


    Tyson gazed at her serene features, envying the ease with which she had slipped into oblivion. He longed to join her, to allow the tantalizing pull of sleep to claim him as well. But just as he felt his own eyelids growing heavy, a flashing indicator in his HUD jerked his mind back to full wakefulness.


    With a resigned sigh, he carefully extricated himself from T''Pol''s sleeping form. She murmured softly but did not wake, her body going limp as he slid out from under her. Tyson paused, ensuring she was settled comfortably before rising from the bed.


    The indicator continued to blink insistently, demanding his attention. He cast one last lingering look at T''Pol''s sleeping form. Her beauty and passion were distracting. With great reluctance, he headed into the suite''s common area and turned his attention to the notification.


    [0 CP] Divine Voyeur (Drawback)


    The Q watches all and sees all. Whenever you have sex with others, or whenever you take ''adult actions'', Q will be watching and will award you "Reality Points" for your performance.


    "Really, Q? I don''t take the Perk, so instead, you turn it into a Drawback that I have to accept?" He sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Well, I won''t complain about free points."


    A new window materialized in his view, displaying text in Q''s unmistakable grandiose style.


    "How delightfully entertaining you continue to be! Here you are, boldly going where quite a few have dreamed but few have gone before. I must say, your diplomatic skills are improving. Breaking through that famous Vulcan reserve? Most impressive. However, I wonder what the Vulcan High Command would think of their decorated officer now."


    Tyson rolled his eyes at Q''s theatrical commentary.


    "Oh, don''t give me that look. To think, beneath all that logical exterior lies such fascinating potential. I dare say you''ve conducted quite the successful first contact."


    "Are you done?" Tyson muttered.


    "Done? My dear boy, I''m just getting started! The universe is vast and full of possibilities. Though I must say, starting with a Vulcan shows delightful ambition. Either way, consider this my stamp of approval on your continued... explorations."


    Tyson massaged his temples. "I don''t need your approval, Q."


    "No, but you have it nonetheless! Along with some lovely bonus points for your performance. Do keep things interesting, won''t you? The cosmos can be so dreadfully dull without a dash of romance."


    The text faded away, leaving Tyson staring at the space where it had been. He couldn''t decide whether to be annoyed or amused by Q''s running commentary on his personal life, especially since the entity had made this a mandatory feature.


    Episode: Cultural Exploration I Complete!


    +200 RP


    Reality Points: 400


    <hr>


    Tyson


    Origins: Human, Humanoid, Drop-In, Space Pirate, Bad Guy


    Race: Augment Human-Betazoid (Hybrid)


    Character Points: 1400, [250 KOTOR (Vicky)]


    Reality Points: 400


    Ship Points: 1700


    Credits: 116,450


    Status Effects: (none)


    Drawbacks:


    Gauntlet (Locked)


    Ensign Marty Stu


    A Simple Re''Q''uest


    Hybrid (Betazoid)


    Amok Time/Blood Fever


    Outlawed


    Mary Sue


    Perks:


    Cosmic Awareness


    Out of Nowhere


    Going Native


    Live and Let Live


    This is (Not?) Rocket Science


    Kinda Bland


    Determinator


    Painted On


    Snakeskin


    Adaptable


    Duelist


    Master with your Hands


    Best of the Best


    Everything Is A Weapon


    Augment


    Force Specialization: Intelligence


    Tactical Info


    Sever Force


    Items:


    Laser Blade


    Spacesuit


    Agony Booth


    Cloaking Minefield


    Lightsaber


    Gray Goo Suit


    Companions:


    (Vicky) V-KO IV Nursedroid: Access Key, Artificial Intelligence Upgrade, Gray Goo Upgrade, Master With Your Hands, Light Weapon, Jumper''s Master Key, Scaling Cloak, Origin:Jedi, Force Specialization: Intelligence, Enhanced Mind, Lightsaber, Armored Robes, Battle Meditation


    T''Pol: Access Key


    Personal Reality:


    Access Key (Additional Keys, Key Link)


    Security System


    High-Security Inter-Reality Connecting Door (Star Trek Enterprise, Star Wars Knights of the Old Republic)


    Medical Bay (The Nano-Medical Lab, The Bio-Synthesis Lab, Microbiome Replacement Lab)


    Housing Complex (Basic Nutrition, Choice Apartments, Who''s Got the Powa, Pipes Pipes Pipes)


    Playing With Portals (Portal Link, Portal Control Rod, Free Portal)


    Spaceships:


    Tramp Freighter (Destroyed - Respawn on 02/28/2365)


    Sith Interceptor (Bridge Upgrade)


    Automated Repair Station (Ship Size Rating: IV, Station, Bridge, Space Hulk, Artificial Gravity, Cryo-Chambers, Auto-Repair System, Synapses, Distributed, Automated Ship, Analytic Suite, Docking Port, Transporter Room, Matter Printer, Negentropy Reactor, Deflector Shields, Clarketech Module, Production Lines, Hangar, Cargo Bay, Living Quarters)

 Season 2: Episode 18 - Where No One Has Gone Before?

    Episode 18 - Where No One Has Gone Before?


    Stardate: 41263.1


    Earth Standard Date: April 6, 2364.


    Location: USS Enterprise-D


    The hum of Main Engineering filled Tyson''s ears as he sat beside Wesley, both absorbed in a warp field theory lecture. Wesley attentively listened while Tyson absorbed the lesson and read through additional materials on a PADD, his Augment mind allowing him to learn efficiently through multitasking. Their concentration broke when a raised voice cut through the ambient whoosh of the warp core.


    "Inform the Bridge I shall begin the first test in precisely fifteen minutes. Why is there a civilian and a child here?"


    A man in an engineering uniform with a receding hairline began berating Tyson and Wesley. Commander Riker stood nearby, his ordinarily jovial expression replaced by one of barely concealed annoyance. But it wasn''t the rude Engineer or angry Riker who caught Tyson''s attention. It was the other man in the entourage, a figure that he recognized.


    The Traveler.


    Tyson slowly edged away from the group, trying to make himself as inconspicuous as possible without being obvious and activating his Scaling Cloak. He already had the attention of one ascended being and wasn''t eager to attract another. The nature of the Traveler''s powers was unclear, and Tyson wasn''t sure if his unique presence would trigger some reaction. He knew the man was here for Wesley, and Tyson had no intention of interfering with that particular destiny.


    The bossy Engineer, Kosinski, continued his tirade, his voice dripping with condescension. "To save myself time, let me ask those questions for you. You received the information that Starfleet provided, you fed it into your computer as precisely as humanly possible, and then you did a controlled test. And then, to your astonishment, nothing happened. So you said, what''s going on? This doesn''t work. Kosinski''s a fraud. You see, I have had this conversation on other Starfleet vessels before. They didn''t understand it. Why should you?" From the corner of his eye, Tyson saw the Traveler interacting with Wesley. Kosinski''s voice rose again. "I''m not a teacher, nor do I wish to become one. I have neither the inclination nor the time."


    Riker''s patience was wearing thin. "Mr. Kosinski, I believe we''ve heard just about enough. This experiment of yours stops here."


    Kosinski bristled, his face reddening. "Now see here, Commander. I don''t think you understand. Starfleet Command has already approved this." He held up a PADD, waving it for emphasis.


    Riker didn''t even glance at it. "But I haven''t approved it. Nor has Mr. Argyle here." He nodded towards the Engineer, who stood with his arms folded.


    "I wasn''t aware that was necessary." Kosinski sputtered.


    "Now you are." Riker informed him testily.


    Kosinski drew himself up. "Well, perhaps I should take this up with Captain Picard."


    "Be my guest," Riker replied coolly. "It won''t change anything."


    Around the room, engineers pretended to work while shamelessly eavesdropping. Some things were universal across time and space, including a love of juicy workplace drama.


    Kosinski''s face flushed an even deeper red. "How basic must I be, Commander? Do you need me to explain it using just monosyllabic words?"


    Riker''s eyes narrowed. "I''ll leave that decision to you, Mr. Kosinski."


    "Well then, if you''ll just give me a moment..." Kosinski activated a console.


    Tyson felt his interest wane as the confrontation cooled to a simmer. Without the fireworks, it just wasn''t that exciting to watch. As the group moved to examine something on the large table console, he passively listened to see if anything they said applied to the lesson he was reading on the PADD. But Tyson already knew it was the Traveler, not Kosinski, behind the warp improvements.


    His thoughts drifted until Kosinski''s voice rose once more. "Do this one just like the last time. Nothing changes. Commander, I''ll make preliminary adjustments at Warp One Point Five and complete them as we achieve Warp Four."


    Riker''s clipped voice responded. "Engineering to bridge, did you copy that?"


    Picard''s voice crackled over the comm system. "Affirmative, Number One. Are you ready?"


    "We are, sir."


    "Engage." the Captain ordered.


    Tyson knew what was coming. What the Traveler was about to do. As inconspicuously as possible, he edged closer to observe.


    "All right, here we go."


    The Traveler adjusted the settings, then turned to smile at Wesley, a gesture loaded with significance that only Tyson seemed to appreciate fully.


    Suddenly, the warp core began to race. Tyson had been in Engineering during high-warp situations before, but this was something else entirely. The core cycled faster than he''d ever witnessed, the quickly beating whoom-whoom reverberating off the walls with increasing intensity.


    Confusion colored Kosinski''s voice. "What are you doing?" he asked urgently.


    The Traveler, his hands still on the console, began to fade from view, his form becoming ghostly and translucent as if phasing out of reality itself.


    The inertial dampeners, designed for the extremes of regular space travel, were overwhelmed by the incomprehensible increase in speed. The Enterprise launched through the Milky Way Galaxy at velocities that defied understanding. Crew members were thrown to the deck, unable to maintain their footing. Only Tyson, with his enhanced strength and foreknowledge of the event, managed to stay upright.


    And then, as suddenly as it began, everything stopped.


    But this wasn''t the gradual deceleration of a starship coming out of warp. It wasn''t even the abrupt halt of emergency stops. This was different, more profound. It felt like someone had reached out and manipulated the fabric of time itself.


    That was precisely what Tyson''s Cosmic Awareness Perk was telling him was happening.


    Time was stopped. A message flashed in his HUD.


    Drawback: A Simple Re''Q''uest Activated!


    The scene in Engineering seemed frozen in time, the chaos suspended in a single stopped moment. At the center of it all stood Q, his presence both incongruous and fitting. He loomed over the Traveler''s shoulder with a bemused expression as he observed the alien''s intense concentration.


    "Don''t worry," Q said, "he can''t perceive what''s happening between us. He''s too busy for that now."


    "I didn''t think you had a hand in this episode."


    "Oh, I don''t. I''m just getting dreadfully bored. It seems about time for the midseason shakeup." Tyson raised an eyebrow skeptically. Q''s voice took on a defensive tone. "Don''t look at me like that. You haven''t gotten into any space battles or killed any Sith all month. It''s dreadful. Most of these episodes are filler anyway."


    A memory tickled at the back of Tyson''s mind. "But, when Kirk went past the galactic barrier, they all got psychic powers."


    "Yes, it''s all quite neat," Q commented, his voice dripping with sarcasm.


    Tyson connected dots he hadn''t considered before. "You''re being quick to dismiss what''s about to happen."


    "You lack the knowledge for me to explain it completely, but put simply, the manifestations in that galaxy are limited to that galaxy. Anything you created, any powers you manifested would disappear when you returned. There''s nothing to be gained. Which is also boring."


    Tyson studied Q''s face, searching for any sign of deception, but found none. "So since this would just be boring for you and pointless for me, you came to what? Spice things up? Maybe fling us to the Borg early?"


    Q''s voice took on a tone of mock offense. "Nothing so crass. Come now, Tyson, you know how important that will be. Some things must happen when they''re meant to happen."


    Tyson tilted his head in acquiescence, his thoughts meandering through the intricate web of Star Trek history. Though Q''s capricious flinging of the Enterprise into the Borg''s path appeared spontaneous at first glance, it started a cascade of events far too significant to be chance. The ensuing tragedy at Wolf 359 shocked the Federation from their complacency, driving home the terrifying reality of the Borg threat. In marshaling their defenses and creating new combat-capable ships to prepare for the Collective, Starfleet inadvertently prepared themselves for the coming war with the Dominion. And when Voyager was whisked away to the Delta Quadrant, Janeway would deliver crippling blows to both the Borg and Species 8472.


    But he forced himself to refocus, pushing aside the spiraling thoughts of Trekkie conspiracy theories. "So what now?"


    Q''s response was pure theatricality. He tapped his chin with his pointer finger in an exaggerated thinking pose, then raised it in a mock eureka moment. "I''ve got it," he declared with a flourish. "Since the Enterprise is being sent to another galaxy, that''s where I''ll send you!"


    Episode: Star Trek The Next Generation - Where No Man Has Gone Before Complete!


    +50 RP


    Reality Points: 450


    Q raised his hand, fingers poised to snap, but Tyson interrupted. "Wait!" he cried, hands held up in desperation. "Where are you sending me this time?"


    Q hummed. "Good question," he mused. "You''ve already visited a galaxy far, far away. I could send you off to see how you match up against another Sith... perhaps this one with horns..." His voice trailed off, building suspense. "No. That doesn''t feel right. Instead, I''ll send you to another Star Trek reality filled with action and¡­ lens flares!"


    Tyson''s eyes narrowed. He asked cautiously, "Okay¡­ What exactly do you expect me to do there?"


    Q''s eyes sparkled with mischief. "Do? Why, whatever you want, of course! That''s the beauty of it." He leaned in close, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "You''ll get a new Origin. Will you continue to play the Bad Guy and the Space Pirate? The choice, my dear Tyson, is entirely yours."


    "For how long?" Tyson asked.


    Q waved a hand dismissively. "Oh, time is such a fluid concept, especially between universes. Let''s say... until the movie is over. Or I get bored. Whichever comes first. But until then, your Personal Reality and system choices will be locked to that universe."


    Tyson took a deep breath, steeling himself for what was to come. "Alright," he said, "I''m ready."


    "Excellent! Oh, and one more thing... I''m not going to make this so easy for you. Expect the unexpected. And do try to survive. It would be such a waste if you survived the Sith to get killed by a mere animal."


    With those ominous words hanging in the air, Q raised his hand again, and Tyson braced himself. As Q''s fingers came together in a snap, the world around Tyson began to blur and shift, the familiar surroundings of the Enterprise''s Engineering section melting away like a mirage. The last thing Tyson saw before reality shattered was Q''s enigmatic smile and a wink that seemed to contain all the universe''s secrets. Then, with a rush of sensation that defied description, Tyson felt himself hurtling through the barriers between universes, propelled by Q''s unfathomable power as he disappeared in a flash.


    ¡ª Star Jumper ¡ª


    The icy wind lashed Tyson''s face relentlessly, jolting him awake with a thousand frigid pinpricks. He blinked hard, eyes struggling to focus against the blinding white expanse stretching endlessly in all directions. Snowflakes danced violently around him, their delicate beauty betraying the harsh reality of his predicament. His breath emerged in ragged white puffs, visible in the freezing air. Turning slowly, he surveyed the bleak, unbroken landscape of ice and snow.


    "Where the hell am I?" he muttered through chattering teeth, the shrieking wind nearly swallowing the words.


    Tyson willed his Gray Goo Suit to create a helmet around him. Its Spacesuit functionality kicked in to isolate him from the freezing environment. His wide eyes scoured the barren wasteland for any sign of life or shelter. The endless sea of white seemed to mock his efforts, offering nothing but icy oblivion.


    Reflexively, Tyson glanced skyward. A large alien planet was visible in the sky. The sight triggered something in his memory, a nagging familiarity he couldn''t quite place. He furrowed his brow, forcing his mind to work through the cold.


    The Star Trek reboot movie.


    The plot rushed through him in a flood of images and dialogue. Nero, the vengeful Romulan, traveled back in time to destroy Vulcan. And the ice planet where young Kirk had been marooned...


    "Delta Vega," Tyson breathed, "I''m on Delta Vega."


    He looked up at the looming planet once more. If that was Vulcan, still intact in the sky, then he had arrived before its destruction.


    There was still time.


    [+200 CP] Stranded! (Drawback)


    You now start on Delta Vega, a small, mostly uninhabited world near Vulcan. Of Course, near is relative, and you may well be alone in this hostile world until you''re retrieved¡­ if you''re retrieved.


    Character Points: 1600


    Tyson browsed his new system options. Q had locked him out of traveling and purchasing options from other realities. He was limited to a new selection, and sadly, the choices weren''t that great. There were a few gems, but most of the options weren''t worth their cost when compared to the Perks he''d previously purchased. As for his Origins, there were three options, but selecting one wasn''t mandatory, as he could default to his previous Origins. But he wasn''t sure he wanted to be the Human, Drop-In, Space Pirate, Bad Guy.


    Cadet


    Officer


    Rogue


    [50 CP] Cadet (Origin)


    The future belongs to you and your peers. In a few years, you''ll likely be able to gain a position in the main fleet.


    [100 CP] Officer (Origin)


    Someone''s got to keep the peace in the galaxy, and as a Starfleet officer, there''s no one better equipped.


    [150 CP] Rogue (Origin)


    Perhaps it was a difference of opinion. Perhaps it was personal. Regardless, you now stand apart from Starfleet and exist as a separate entity. Be warned: They will hunt you.


    Looking over the origins, it was clear that the Rogue Origin was based around Khan from the second Star Trek movie in this franchise. Tyson had no interest in paying for the Rogue origin. He was already an Augment, and that Origin discounted was of a major benefit, certainly not to the point that it made the cost worthwhile.


    One of the bonuses to having either the Cadet or Officer Origin was that Tyson would automatically be considered part of Starfleet. It would allow him to skip the time of going to the Academy and would make his presence on Starfleet ships more acceptable. But he had to ask himself, was that even what he wanted? He didn''t fancy the idea of being assigned a duty shift. There was likely a Perk that would allow him to avoid his duties without penalty, but that would cost him even more of his CP.


    [100 CP] Officer (Origin)


    Someone''s got to keep the peace in the galaxy, and as a Starfleet officer, there''s no one better equipped.


    [Free] Specialty: Operations (Perk)


    You don the famous red shirt and do what''s needed¡­ You keep the ship running.


    Sub Specialty - Communications: You are highly proficient in managing communications, as well as the decoding of enemy transmissions.


    Sub Specialty - Engineering: You keep the ship running. With your strength and knowledge, the core systems of a starship function.


    Cross Specialty - Piloting: You have extensive training in maneuvering and piloting starships outside of FTL


    Tyson chose Officer and the accompanying specialty of Operations. One perk associated with that branch of specialty was what Tyson really wanted, so he chose it to access those discounts.


    [300 CP (Discounted)] Transwarp Beam Equation (Item)


    Now this here is an equation that wouldn''t see the light of day for some time, normally. Now, it can be used to beam individuals from any place to a ship traveling at Warp. You can use it, though, to beam onto any ship using any means to travel at FTL.


    Character Points: 1200


    He scanned the description of the Transwarp Beam Equation. No maximum distance was specified, which suggested the range was unlimited. With this equation, he could transport himself onto any ship, regardless of the faster-than-light propulsion system it used, even if it was halfway across the galaxy. The possibilities were endless. Warp drive, hyperspace, quantum slipstream, transwarp conduits, it didn''t matter. As long as the ship was traveling faster than light, he could beam aboard.


    This was the real prize.


    The 300 CP price tag was steep, but considering what he was getting for his points, it seemed worthwhile. Not only would he gain the equation, but for 400 CP total, he would also gain training in a variety of skills and an Officer ranking.


    The equation would open up so many new adventures and opportunities. He could pop around the galaxy as he pleased, boarding any ship that struck his fancy. With the Transwarp Beam Equation, there were so many possibilities. Infiltrating pursuing or retreating ships, moving across the galaxy, and reaching events that would have been missed otherwise. That alone made it worth the investment. With his purchases made, the harsh reality of his situation drew his attention. Tyson spoke to Ivy, the VI inside his Gray Goo Suit. "Check sensors and communication channels."


    "Scanning complete. Communication telemetry indicates there''s a Starfleet observation post approximately 8 miles from our current position. I''ve set a waypoint for navigation." Tyson nodded, relieved to have a destination. However, Ivy''s next words were troubling. "Tricorder readings indicate a large creature moving towards our position. The current distance is 350 meters and closing rapidly."


    Tyson spun around, his eyes scanning the white expanse in the direction Ivy indicated. At first, he saw nothing but swirling snow. Then, a dark shape emerged from the whiteout, growing larger with alarming speed.


    As the creature drew closer, Tyson''s memory kicked into overdrive. Delta Vega was home to several aggressive species, and the beast charging toward him on all fours with long, powerful strides matched the description of one such predator.


    "Ivy, can you identify the creature?" Tyson asked, his body tensing for action.


    "Based on available data, the creature appears to be a Hengrauggi," Ivy replied. "A predatory species native to Delta Vega. Highly aggressive, with a powerful bite and excellent tracking abilities."


    Tyson assessed the rapidly approaching Hengrauggi. The Gray Goo Suit should be able to protect him.


    "We don''t have access to the Perk options from other realities, but do we still have access to the Personal Reality options?"


    "We do, boss," Ivy confirmed.


    A glimmer of an idea sparked in Tyson''s mind. "Wasn''t there a zoo option?"


    "You want to capture that?"


    He couldn''t keep the excitement out of his voice. "Look at it, it''s like someone crossed a dinosaur with a Predator. It has to be thirty feet tall."


    "There is an option for a Mystical Menagerie," Ivy offered.


    "That''s the one," Tyson said, his plan crystallizing. "Ivy, give my boots small spikes, like a sprint shoe."


    Without waiting for a response, Tyson turned and started running. Since becoming an Augment, he hadn''t truly tested his physical capabilities in a maximal activity like weightlifting or sprinting. Now, he pushed his body to its limits.


    "Ivy, distance?" Tyson called out, curious about his performance.


    "You''re matching its pace," Ivy reported. After a brief pause, she added, "Correction, now you''re outdistancing it."


    A smile spread across Tyson''s face as he realized the extent of his physical abilities. And he could be so much faster if he used the Force. Now outpacing the creature, he mentally navigated through the menu.


    [200 RP] The Mystical Menagerie (Personal Reality)


    During your adventures you will undoubtedly acquire a plethora of animals, be they pets, mounts, or livestock. Unfortunately, such animals need space... often a great deal of it. Well, this improvement provides your Personal Reality with a nearly perfect place for each of them to go and a steady supply of feed and drink. Each animal receives a spacious living area in your Menagerie, something large enough and varied enough that they¡¯ll be able to exercise and amuse themselves. While this area is not boundless, and it cannot be used for storage or exploited for resources, it will mimic their natural environment and can cover dozens or hundreds of square kilometers. Multiple animals can share an environment if they, in fact, can share an environment. The area of your Menagerie is completely separate from the rest of your Personal Reality, but you start with 10 environments, each of which is roughly the size of Portugal.


    Reality Points: 250


    Ahead of him, a cave within a cliff came into view. The entrance was just large enough for the Hengrauggi to fit through. Tyson focused his energy on creating a portal over the opening. By the time he reached it, the portal had expanded to accommodate the massive creature.


    The Hengrauggi charged through, its momentum carrying it forward without realizing it had entered a portal. The snowy, cold landscape matched Delta Vega perfectly, providing a seamless transition for the unaware predator.


    Tyson continued running with the Hengrauggi still in pursuit. He opened another portal ahead of him, this one just large enough for his own body to fit through. With a final burst, using the Force to enhance his speed, Tyson dove through the opening, emerging back onto the icy plains of Delta Vega.


    As soon as he was through, Tyson closed the portal behind him, leaving the Hengrauggi trapped in the Mystical Menagerie.


    "Congratulations," Ivy chimed in, "You''ve got a Predator-dinosaur pet in your Personal Reality."


    "Thanks for the help, Ivy. That was fun."


    The rush of the chase, combined with the successful capture of such a magnificent beast, left him feeling invigorated. The Mystical Menagerie was more than just a simple zoo. It was a carefully crafted environment designed to house and care for creatures of various environments. Tyson knew that the Hengrauggi would be well-cared for in its new home, with all its needs met and plenty of space to roam.


    While spending most of his RP to capture the formidable creature might not have been practical.


    Fuck it.


    The system had an optional Perk for Beast Control. He didn''t have access to it right now, nor did he plan on purchasing it, but if he did in the future, he had a beast.


    "Ivy, let''s get moving towards that observation post. And keep an eye out for any other interesting local wildlife. Who knows what other fascinating creatures we might come across?"


    Tyson had barely taken a step when Ivy said, "Actually, there''s another lifeform within the cave. Humanoid. Vulcan."


    Tyson froze mid-stride, his eyes widening in disbelief. A Vulcan, here on Delta Vega? The pieces began to fall into place. He turned and made his way back to the cave entrance. The wind howled around him, driving icy particles against his suit, but he barely noticed. His focus was entirely on what, or rather who, he would find inside.


    The cave was deeper than he had initially thought, stretching back into the rocky hillside. "Hello?" he called out, his voice echoing slightly in the confined space. "Is anyone there?" For a moment, there was only silence. Then, a figure emerged from the shadows. He recognized the familiar features, aged but unmistakable.


    It was Spock. But not the young, conflicted Spock of this time. This was the future Spock, his face lined with the wisdom of a long, eventful life. Intellectually, he had known that he might encounter this version of Spock on Delta Vega, but seeing him in person was something else entirely.


    "Greetings," Spock said, his voice carrying the same measured tone that Tyson remembered from Star Trek episodes and movies. "I must admit, I did not expect to encounter anyone else in this inhospitable place."


    "Neither did I," he replied, then added, "I''m Tyson."


    "I am Spock," the Vulcan said, though he offered no further explanation of his presence or his origins.


    There was no hint of recognition in the Vulcan''s eyes, no indication that he knew who Tyson was or why he might be there. This was curious, to say the least, given that Spock came from the future. Tyson thought there might be some level of familiarity.


    "You don''t recognize me?" he asked.


    Spock''s brow furrowed slightly, the only outward sign of his confusion. "Should I? I apologize, but I have no recollection of ever meeting you before."


    If Spock had come from the late 2380s, he should have known of Tyson. Unless, for some reason, he wasn''t noteworthy in the future. More likely, this Spock might be from a future where Tyson had never arrived on the Enterprise.


    "I see," Tyson said, trying to gather his thoughts. "And you''re here because of Nero, right?"


    At the mention of the Romulan''s name, Spock''s posture stiffened almost imperceptibly. "You are aware of Nero?" he asked.


    Tyson nodded, realizing he needed to tread carefully. He didn''t want to reveal too much about his own knowledge of future events, but he also needed to establish some level of trust with Spock if they were going to work together.


    "I know that he''s a threat," Tyson said carefully. "And I know that his actions have... already had significant consequences for this timeline."


    Spock studied Tyson for a long moment, his dark eyes seeming to peer into Tyson''s very thoughts. Finally, he spoke. "Your knowledge of these events is... unexpected. Perhaps you could explain how you came to be here and how you are aware of Nero''s existence?"


    "I was brought here by an entity known as Q," Tyson began. I''m unsure if you''re aware of the being, but I''m here to help if I can. I know what Nero plans to do, and I want to stop him."


    "Your presence here is most unusual," he said, "as is your knowledge of events yet to unfold. However, given the gravity of the situation, I believe it would be logical to accept your offer of assistance."


    He had managed to gain Spock''s trust, or at least his willingness to work together. Now, he needed to figure out how to stop Nero and save Vulcan.


    "We should make our way to the Starfleet outpost nearby," Tyson suggested, "It''s about eight miles from here. We might find resources there that could help us, and it''s a good starting point to formulate a plan."


    "Your suggestion is logical. The outpost may provide us with communication equipment and possibly transportation off this planet."


    Tyson glanced towards the cave entrance, where the howling wind served as a reminder of the harsh conditions outside. "It''s going to be challenging," he admitted. "The weather out there is brutal."


    Spock extinguished the dying embers of his small fire. "I am familiar with the climate of Delta Vega. While it is indeed inhospitable, it is not insurmountable. We must simply be prepared."


    As Spock gathered his few belongings, Tyson took stock of their situation. His Gray Goo Suit would protect him from the elements, but Spock didn''t have the same advantage.


    "Spock," Tyson began, "my suit provides complete protection against the cold. Do you have adequate gear for the journey?"


    The Vulcan straightened up, a small pack now slung over his shoulder. "I have thermal gear," he replied, "though it is not ideal for extended exposure to Delta Vega''s climate. However, I believe it will suffice for our journey to the outpost."


    "If you need any assistance during our trek, please don''t hesitate to ask," he offered.If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it.


    "Your concern is noted," Spock said, "Shall we proceed?"


    With a nod from Tyson, they made their way to the cave entrance. As they stepped out into the swirling snow, Tyson couldn''t help but marvel at the surreal nature of his situation. Here he was, on a frozen wasteland of a planet, about to embark on a perilous journey with one of the most iconic characters in Star Trek history.


    "I''ve plotted the most efficient route," he told Spock, raising his voice to be heard over the wind. "We should be able to reach the outpost in about three hours if we maintain a steady pace."


    Spock nodded, pulling his thermal hood tighter around his face. "Lead on, Mr. Tyson."


    As they set out across the frozen plains, Tyson kept a watchful eye on their surroundings. The encounter with the Hengrauggi was still fresh in his mind, and he knew there could be other dangerous creatures lurking in the snow-covered landscape. For the first hour of their journey, they trudged through the snow in relative silence. The wind howled around them, driving icy particles and obscuring visibility. Tyson was grateful for his suit''s protection, but he could see that Spock was struggling more with each passing minute.


    "Spock," Tyson called out, slowing his pace slightly to allow the Vulcan to catch up. "How are you holding up?"


    "I am... managing," the Vulcan replied, his breath visible in the frigid air. "The cold is... more intense than I anticipated."


    Tyson frowned. He knew Vulcans were adapted to a hot, desert climate, making this frozen wasteland particularly challenging for their species. "I have something that can help," he said, "It might seem a bit... unusual, but I assure you it''s safe."


    "I am open to any suggestion that might improve our current situation," he replied, his voice strained from the cold.


    With a thought, he opened a small portal in front of him, just large enough to reach through.


    "Fascinating," Spock murmured, his scientific curiosity momentarily overriding his discomfort.


    Tyson''s hand disappeared into the portal, rummaging around for a moment before withdrawing. In his grasp were two objects: a helmet and a matching belt.


    "Here," Tyson said, holding out the items to Spock. "Put these on. They''ll protect you from the cold." Spock hesitated for a moment, his logical mind no doubt trying to process what he had just witnessed. But the biting cold seemed to override any reservations he might have had. With slightly trembling hands, he took the helmet and belt from Tyson. "The belt goes around your waist," Tyson instructed, watching as Spock complied. "Now, put on the helmet. It should seal automatically."


    As Spock placed the helmet over his head, there was a soft hiss as it connected with the belt. Suddenly, the helmet and belt began to expand, a material spreading out from both pieces. In a matter of seconds, Spock was encased in a form-fitting suit that covered him from head to toe.


    The transformation was remarkable. Where moments ago Spock had been shivering and struggling against the elements, he now stood tall and protected. The suit adapted perfectly to his body, allowing him to move freely while providing complete insulation from the harsh environment.


    "Remarkable," Spock said, flexing his fingers and arms to test the suit''s mobility. "The temperature regulation is most efficient. And the material... I''ve never encountered anything like it."


    "It''ll protect you from pretty much anything an environment can throw at it," Tyson explained.


    Spock nodded, his eyes still examining the suit with keen interest. "Your ability to produce such advanced technology seemingly out of thin air is... intriguing. I look forward to a more detailed explanation when time permits."


    "For now, though, we should keep moving. We still have a ways to go to reach the outpost."


    With Spock now properly protected from Delta Vega''s harsh climate, the two resumed their journey across the frozen landscape. The wind continued to howl around them, driving snow and ice through the air, but neither of them felt its bite any longer. As they were making their way along a narrow ridge, Vicky displayed a red dot nearby in his HUD. Then his enhanced hearing picked up a low, rumbling growl, barely audible over the howling wind but unmistakably predatory.


    "We''re not alone out here," Tyson warned.


    Spock''s posture immediately tensed, his eyes scanning the surrounding area with laser focus. "What manner of creature do you believe it to be?" he asked, his voice low and controlled.


    Before Tyson could respond, a massive shape burst from a nearby snowbank. It was another Hengrauggi, its powerful limbs propelling it towards them with frightening speed.


    "Move!" Tyson shouted, pushing Spock towards a nearby outcropping of rocks. They barely made it to cover before the creature''s massive jaws snapped shut where they had been standing moments before.


    As the Hengrauggi circled their position, Tyson''s hand reached behind his back. His fingers wrapped around the hilt of his Lightsaber. He brought it forward, his thumb finding the activation switch. With a distinctive snap-hiss, the lightsaber ignited, its brilliant blue plasma blade springing to life. The sudden appearance of the glowing weapon caused the Hengrauggi to draw up short, its massive body tensing as it regarded this new development with wary eyes.


    Spock, who had taken cover behind a nearby rock formation, observed the scene with fascination.


    The Hengrauggi''s predatory instincts warred with its innate fear of fire, forcing the creature to take a hesitant step back from the lightsaber''s superheated plasma.


    Tyson held the lightsaber steady before him. The creature''s eyes darted between him and the glowing blade.


    "That''s right," Tyson muttered under his breath, "you don''t like fire, do you?"


    As if in response to his words, the Hengrauggi let out a low, rumbling growl. Its massive claws dug into the frozen ground, leaving deep furrows in the snow as it shifted its weight from one foot to another. The creature was clearly conflicted, its hunger driving it forward while its fear of the lightsaber held it at bay. He had no desire to harm it if he could avoid it. His thoughts turned to the Mystical Menagerie in his Personal Reality, where he had already captured one Hengrauggi. Perhaps this one could join its kin.


    With his free hand, Tyson made a subtle gesture, focusing on creating a portal behind the creature. It started as a small shimmer in the air, barely noticeable against the backdrop of swirling snow. Slowly, carefully, he expanded it, willing it to grow larger without startling the already agitated predator.


    As it expanded, Tyson could see glimpses of the snowy landscape of his Personal Reality''s Mystical Menagerie beyond.


    The Hengrauggi, still focused on Tyson and the lightsaber, remained oblivious to the portal forming behind it. Its massive head swayed from side to side, nostrils flaring as it caught their scent on the wind. A low, rumbling growl emanated from deep within its chest, a sound that Tyson felt as much as heard. With the portal now fully formed and large enough to accommodate the creature''s bulk, Tyson took a deliberate step forward, his lightsaber held high. The creature''s fear of the lightsaber overrode its predator instincts, and it began to back away. Its powerful legs pushed against the snow, propelling it backward toward the waiting portal. Tyson continued his advance, moving slowly but steadily, herding the Hengrauggi towards its new home.


    For a brief moment, the creature stood half in and half out of the portal, its head and forequarters still on Delta Vega while its hindquarters had already entered the Mystical Menagerie. It was a surreal sight, like something out of a bizarre painting.


    The lightsaber hummed as he used it to herd the creature, careful not to actually make contact with its hide. The Hengrauggi instinctively retreated further into the portal. He watched as the last of the creature''s massive bulk disappeared into the shimmering gateway. As soon as the Hengrauggi was through, Tyson closed the portal with a thought.


    Slowly, he turned to face Spock, who was emerging from his shelter behind the rocks. The Vulcan''s face was a mask of carefully controlled curiosity and confusion.


    "Mr. Tyson," Spock said, "I believe you owe me an explanation. What exactly did I just witness?"


    Tyson deactivated his lightsaber, the blue blade disappearing with a soft hiss. He clipped the weapon back to his belt before addressing Spock''s question.


    "It''s a long story, and I''m not entirely sure you''d believe all of it. But the short version is that I have access to some... unique abilities and technologies."


    Spock''s eyebrow rose even higher if that was possible. "Unique abilities and technologies indeed," he replied, his tone dry. "Your weapon, for instance, is unlike anything I have encountered in my extensive travels. And the method by which you removed the creature from our presence is... most intriguing."


    Tyson knew he would have to provide some explanation, but he was wary of revealing too much about his true nature and origins.


    "The weapon is called a lightsaber," he explained, deciding to start with the simpler of the two phenomena Spock had witnessed. "It''s a plasma blade, contained and shaped by a magnetic field. As for the creature''s disappearance..." He paused, considering his words carefully. "Let''s just say I have access to a sort of... pocket dimension. A place where creatures like that can live safely, without threatening others."


    "Your abilities could prove most useful in our current predicament."


    "I hope so," he replied. "But for now, we should keep moving. That creature might have friends, and as much as I''d like to add to my collection, we have a planet to save.


    ¡ª Star Jumper ¡ª


    Keenser, their diminutive alien guide, led them through a maze of corridors, each turn revealing more of the outpost''s utilitarian design. The air grew warmer as they ventured deeper, the scent of machinery and recycled air replacing the biting cold of the planet''s surface. As they rounded a final corner, Tyson''s eyes fell upon a disheveled figure hunched over a console. The man''s unkempt appearance and the frustrated set of his shoulders spoke volumes about his time on this desolate outpost. Keenser approached, alerting the man to their presence with a series of clicks and whistles.


    The man spun around, his eyes widening at the sight of the newcomers. "What? You realize how unacceptable this is?" he blurted out, his accent thick with indignation.


    Spock Prime''s eyebrow rose slightly. "Fascinating," he murmured, his tone carrying a weight of recognition that Tyson couldn''t quite decipher.


    The Scottish man launched into a tirade, his words tumbling out in a rush of pent-up frustration. "Yeah, I''m sure you''re just doing your job, but could you not come a wee bit sooner? Six months I''ve been here, living off Starfleet protein nibs and a promise of a good meal. And I know exactly what''s going on here, okay. Punishment, isn''t it? Ongoing, for something that was clearly an accident."


    Tyson watched the exchange with growing fascination. Even if he hadn''t known the man because of the plot he now found himself in, he might have been able to identify Montgomery Scott, the future Chief Engineer of the Enterprise, by his accent. Seeing him here, in this dingy outpost, was like watching the script unfold before his eyes.


    Spock Prime''s calm voice cut through Scott''s rant. "You are Montgomery Scott."


    "Aye, that''s me," Scott confirmed, "You''re in the right place. Unless there''s another hard-working, equally starved Starfleet officer around."


    Keenser piped up with a single word, "Me."


    Scott rounded on his alien companion, exasperation clear in his voice. "Keenser, shut up! You don''t eat anything. You can eat like a bean, and you''re done. I''m talking about food. Real food." He turned back to the newcomers, a hint of hope creeping into his voice. "But, you''re here now, so thank you. Where is it?"


    Tyson watched as Spock Prime steered the conversation towards Scott''s work on transwarp beaming. The engineer''s eyes lit up as he recounted his "little debate" with his instructor, his hands gesticulating wildly as he explained his theory.


    "I told him that I could not only beam a grapefruit from one planet to the adjacent planet in the same system, which is easy by the way, I could do it with a lifeform," Scott boasted, his chest puffing out with pride. Then, his expression fell slightly. "So, I tested it on Admiral Archer''s prized beagle."


    A moment of silence fell over the group. Scott''s face contorted with a mixture of guilt and lingering scientific curiosity. "I don''t know what happened to that dog," he admitted. "I do feel guilty about that."


    "What if I told you that your transwarp theory was correct? That it is indeed possible to beam onto a ship that is traveling at warp speed?" Spock posed.


    Scott''s jaw dropped, his eyes widening in disbelief. "I think if that equation had been discovered, I''d have heard about it."


    "The reason you haven''t heard about it, Mister Scott, is because you haven''t discovered it yet."


    "I''m a, uh, what... Are you from the future?"


    "Yes."


    Scott''s face lit up with childlike wonder, his earlier frustrations momentarily forgotten. "Well, that''s brilliant," he exclaimed, then paused as a new thought occurred. "Do they still have sandwiches there?"


    The group made their way to the outpost''s transporter area, a shuttle that was mostly disassembled. "Well, she''s a wee bit dodgy," Scott admitted, gesturing to the transporter. "Shield emitters are totally bandjacked, as well as a few other things. In you go."


    As they prepared to depart, Scott''s eyes took on a dreamy quality. "So, the Enterprise has had her maiden voyage, has she? She is one well-endowed lady. I''d like to get my hands on her ample nacelles if you''ll pardon the engineering parlance."


    Spock Prime moved to the transporter console, his fingers hovering over the controls. "Let me input this formula. When the Enterprise comes into range, we''ll be able to transport over to her."


    "Wait, allow me." Tyson stepped forward, gently moving aside the older Vulcan. He input the Transwarp Beaming Formula. The screen flickered to life, displaying a complex series of mathematical equations.


    Spock Prime leaned forward, his eyes scanning the formula with keen interest. "This formula is slightly different from the one I''m familiar with."


    "My own little twist." Tyson adjusted several parameters, the numbers shifting and realigning. "We won''t need to wait for the Enterprise to come into range."


    "Very well. Good luck, Mr. Tyson."


    "Not interested in coming?" Tyson asked, glancing at the elderly Vulcan, noting the subtle shift in his expression.


    "I prefer not to interfere any more than necessary."


    Tyson turned to Montgomery Scott, who had been watching the exchange. The engineer held up his hands, shaking his head vigorously. "Don''t look at me. I want food, but I don''t want it that badly." Scott patted the console affectionately. "Beaming onto the flagship while she''s at warp is a good way to face a court martial. I''ll stay here eating rations. Thanks. Plus, if you''re wrong, I don''t want to end up like Admiral Archer''s beagle."


    Keenser, standing in his corner, merely shrugged when Tyson''s gaze fell on him. The diminutive alien''s expression remained as inscrutable as ever.


    "Alright. All me then." Tyson stepped onto the transporter pad. He positioned himself in the center, squaring his shoulders as he prepared for transport. His Gray Goo Suit shifted, matching a Starfleet uniform from this timeline.


    Scott double-checked the calculations. "These numbers of yours are pure madness," he muttered, shaking his head. "But they check out, somehow. Ready when you are."


    "Energize."


    ¡ª Star Jumper ¡ª


    The staff prepared a triage area in the bustling Medical Bay of the Enterprise. The young navigator Chekov''s message echoed through the ship''s communication system, his Russian accent thick with urgency.


    "Our mission is to assess the condition of Vulcan and assist in evacuations, if necessary," Chekov announced.


    Medical personnel moved, setting up beds and organizing supplies. The air hummed with tension as they prepared for potential casualties.


    "We should be arriving at Vulcan shortly. Thank you for your time," Chekov concluded.


    Kirk bolted upright on his biobed, fighting through the sedative''s fog. His sudden movement caught Tyson''s attention as the captain struggled to stand. McCoy rushed over.


    "Jim, I told you to stay d-- good God!" McCoy''s eyes widened in shock.


    Kirk''s hands had swollen grotesquely, nearly double their normal size. The doctor stared at his inflated digits in horror.


    "What''s this?!" Kirk demanded, his voice tight with alarm.


    McCoy grabbed his medical scanner. "I don''t know. A reaction to the vaccine. Damnit."


    Kirk stumbled to the video monitor, his swollen fingers clumsy as he rewound Chekov''s message. McCoy waved his diagnostic tool over Kirk''s body, the device chirping ominously.


    "Telemetry detected an anomaly in the Neutral Zone. What appeared to be a lightning storm in space," Chekov''s recorded voice announced.


    Kirk froze the playback, his eyes wild with recognition. He turned to McCoy, urgency written across his features.


    "Bones, we have to stop the ship," Kirk insisted.


    "You''re not allergic to Cardassian vole dander, are you?"


    "What? How the hell would I know? Is Uhura on board?"


    "You need an antidote, Jim, or you''re gonna die," McCoy growled, following Kirk as he lurched toward the door.


    They burst into the corridor. McCoy stayed close to Kirk, monitoring his friend''s vital signs. "Jim, I''m not kidding, you gotta keep your heart rate down," he warned.


    Kirk ignored him. "Computer, locate crew member Uhura."


    "I haven''t seen a reaction this severe since Med school," McCoy muttered, watching the captain''s swollen hands with growing concern.


    The computer''s calm voice responded, "Lieutenant Uhura is at signals monitoring station twelve, deck four."


    Kirk raced through the Enterprise''s corridors toward the signals monitoring station, his grotesquely swollen hands throbbing with each step. McCoy followed close behind, medical bag bouncing against his hip as he tried to keep pace.


    "You''re delusional, you know that," McCoy chastised.


    They burst into the signals monitoring station, an enormous space filled with towering steel collector tanks and workstations where crew members diligently gathered data. Kirk''s eyes darted around until he spotted Uhura at her station. McCoy seized the moment to catch up, pulling out another hypospray.


    "Come here, Jim, don''t move," McCoy ordered, jabbing the injection into Kirk''s neck.


    "Ow! Stop it!" Kirk jerked away from the doctor and rushed toward Uhura''s station.


    "The transmission from the Klingon prison planet, what exactly did you hear?" Kirk demanded, breathing heavily.


    Uhura''s eyes widened as she noticed his condition. "What are you doing here? What happened to your hands?!"


    Kirk quickly hid his inflated digits behind his back, but as he tried to speak, his words came out garbled and incomprehensible. "Who was it who escaped? What was the ship that was stolen?" His speech grew increasingly slurred with each word. Turning to McCoy in frustration, Kirk attempted to ask what was happening to his mouth, but the words were unintelligible.


    "You''ve got Numb Tongue," McCoy explained, already preparing another hypospray.


    "Numb tongue?" Kirk attempted to say, though it came out as meaningless mumbles.


    McCoy shook his head. "That''s not good. I can fix that."


    With his oversized hands, Kirk grabbed a pen and scrawled on a nearby surface. He held up his message to Uhura: "THE SHIP - WAS IT ROMULAN?"


    Recognition flickered across Uhura''s face as she read the message. She exclaimed, "Yes! Yes. It was a Romulan ship."


    McCoy struck again with another injection. "Ow, Damnit!!! Sonofabitch!" Kirk bellowed.


    Without waiting for further discussion, Kirk sprinted toward the bridge, with Uhura and an exasperated McCoy following in his wake. The bridge doors whooshed open as they entered, Kirk immediately addressing the captain.


    "Captain Pike, Sir, we have to stop the ship!"


    Pike turned in his chair, surprise evident on his face. "Mr. Kirk! How the hell did you get on board the Enterprise?!"


    McCoy stepped forward, trying to explain. "This man is under the influence of a severe reaction to a vaccine. He is delusional, and I take full responsibility for¡­"


    "Vulcan isn''t experiencing a natural disaster. It''s being attacked by Romulans," Kirk interrupted, his declaration causing a ripple of tension across the bridge.


    "Romulans? Cadet Kirk, I think you''ve had enough attention for one day," Pike said firmly. "Dr. McCoy, return to medical. We''ll have words later."


    "Yessir," McCoy replied, chastened.


    Spock stepped forward. "As you know, Mr. Kirk is not cleared to be aboard this vessel. By Starfleet regulations, that makes him a stowaway..."


    "Yeah, I get it, you''re a great arguer, I''d love to do it again with you, too," Kirk shot back. "Try it! This cadet is trying to save the bridge!"


    The tension between them crackled as Spock continued, "By recommending a full stop in trans-warp in the midst of a rescue mission?"


    "It''s not a rescue mission. Listen to me! It''s an attack!" Kirk insisted.


    "Based on what facts?" Spock challenged.


    "Fact: the same anomaly, a lightning storm in space, that we saw today also occurred on the day of my birth, before a Romulan ship attacked the U.S.S. Kelvin." He turned to Pike. "You know that. I read your dissertation. Which was good." The tension on the bridge thickened as Kirk laid out his facts, his swollen hands gesturing emphatically despite their condition. The crew watched with a mixture of skepticism and growing concern as he connected the dots between the Kelvin attack and current events. "Fact: This ship, which had formidable and advanced weaponry, was never seen or heard from again," Kirk continued, his voice gaining strength. "Fact: the Kelvin attack took place on the edge of Klingon space, and at eleven hundred hours last night, there was an escape from a Klingon prison planet, Rura Penthe."


    The bridge crew exchanged glances as Kirk pressed on, his intensity drawing them in despite their initial doubts. "Fact: the escaped prisoners were Romulans, Sir, and it was reported that they stole a ship from the prison dock."


    Pike''s eyes narrowed. "And you know of this prison escape how?"


    Kirk''s response was wordless but immediate as he pointed to Uhura. The lieutenant straightened under the sudden attention, her composure professional despite the unexpected spotlight.


    "Sir, I..." Uhura began, then lifted her chin with certainty. "I intercepted and translated the message myself. Kirk''s report is accurate."


    Kirk''s voice took on an urgent edge. "We''re warping into a trap. There are Romulans waiting for us, I promise you that."


    All eyes turned to Pike, whose gaze shifted to Spock. The crew held their breath, knowing Spock''s next words could either validate or destroy Kirk''s credibility. "The cadet''s logic is sound. And Lieutenant Uhura is unmatched in xenolinguistics. We would be wise to accept her conclusion."


    Pike turned to the Communications Officer. "Scan Vulcan space, check if any transmissions are being made in Romulan."


    The Communications Officer shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "Sir, I''m... not sure I could distinguish the Romulan language from Vulcan."


    Pike''s attention snapped to Uhura. "How about you? You speak Romulan, Cadet...?"


    "Uhura, Sir," she responded crisply. "All three dialects."


    The captain made his decision swiftly. "Uhura, relieve the Lieutenant." He turned to another officer. "Mr. Hannity, hail the U.S.S. Truman."


    Uhura moved with practiced efficiency to the communications console, settling into the seat with natural grace. She placed the earpiece with familiar ease, her fingers moving confidently across the controls. The bridge crew watched as she took her place, began scanning for Romulan transmissions.


    Then a transporter beam manifested in the center of the bridge.


    ¡ª Star Jumper ¡ª


    As the transporter beam enveloped Tyson, the world dissolved into streams of light and energy, his consciousness stretching across space in a way that defied conventional physics. For a brief moment, he existed everywhere and nowhere at once.


    Reality snapped back into focus with jarring suddenness. Tyson materialized on the bridge of the Enterprise, immediately finding himself in the middle of a heated confrontation. Captain Pike stood just above the captain''s chair, his face tight with tension. A younger Spock stood at his side, and there, standing face to face with Pike, was James T. Kirk, with defiance written across his features.


    The bridge fell silent as every head turned toward the unexpected arrival. Security officers reached for their phasers. The air crackled with tension, thick enough to cut with a knife.


    "Security breach on the bridge!" Lieutenant Sulu reported from his console.


    Pike sharply ordered, "Stand down!" He recognized the newcomer''s uniform. "Who are you, and how did you get aboard my ship?"


    "Impossible," Chekov exclaimed from his station, his accent thick with excitement and disbelief. "We are traveling at warp speed!"


    "Evidently, it is." Young Spock countered.


    Pike''s authority filled the bridge despite the confusion of the moment. "I''ll ask again. Who are you?"


    "Ensign Tyson, sir," he replied.


    Pike''s eyes narrowed, skepticism etched across his features. "Explain how you managed to beam aboard a ship traveling at warp speed, Ensign."


    "I used a transwarp beaming equation developed by a Starfleet officer named Montgomery Scott on Delta Vega. Sir, communication around 40 Eridani A is completely jammed. We have reason to believe that the system is being attacked. Since we couldn''t communicate with Starfleet, risking transport onto a vessel at warp nearing the system was our only option," Tyson explained, his eyes meeting Pike''s unflinchingly. "The ship was massive."


    Before Pike could respond, Uhura''s voice cut through the tension. "The other ships are out of warp and have arrived at Vulcan, Sir," she reported. "But we seem to have lost all contact."


    "Any Romulan transmissions?"


    "Captain, I pick up no Romulan transmissions. Or transmissions of any kind in the area. There seems to be something jamming all communication around Vulcan."


    Kirk, who had been watching the exchange with growing urgency, stepped forward. "It''s because they''re being attacked," he insisted, "Captain. Please."


    The bridge crew held their breath, awaiting Pike''s decision. Finally, he spoke, ordering, "Shields up. Ready all weapons."


    The bridge erupted into action as red alert klaxons blared. Officers rushed to their stations as they prepared for the unknown threat that awaited them.


    Sulu''s voice announced, "Arrival at Vulcan in five seconds! Four... three... two¡­"


    Time seemed to slow as the Enterprise dropped out of warp. For a split second, there was nothing but the vast expanse of space before them. Then, without warning, the flaming hull of a Starfleet ship came onto the viewscreen, barreling directly toward the Enterprise.


    "Evasive maneuvers!" Pike shouted, his voice cutting through the shocked silence that had fallen over the bridge.


    "On it, sir." Sulu''s hands flew over his console, his face a mask of concentration as he fought to steer the Enterprise clear of the oncoming wreckage. The ship lurched to the side, inertial dampeners straining to compensate for the sudden change in direction.


    The flaming hull of the destroyed Starfleet vessel scraped past the Enterprise, taking some of the plating with it.


    As the immediate danger passed, the true horror of the situation revealed itself. The space around Vulcan was a graveyard of starships, their broken hulls scattered like discarded toys. Flames flickered in the vacuum of space, fed by leaking plasma and ruptured fuel lines.


    And there, dominating the scene of destruction, was a ship unlike anything they had ever seen before. It dwarfed the Enterprise, its design alien and menacing. Massive appendages extended from its main body, giving it the appearance of some monstrous urchin-esque deep-sea creature transplanted to the stars.


    "My God," McCoy breathed.


    Spock composure remained intact, but there was an undeniable edge to his words as he reported, "Captain, they''re locking torpedoes!"


    Pike''s response was immediate, his years of command experience evident in the crisp, decisive orders he barked out. "Full reverse, come about Starboard ninety degrees! Drop us down underneath them! Prepare to fire all weapons!"


    The Enterprise shuddered as it executed the complex maneuver, its hull groaning under the strain. The ship dropped and tumbled in a wild, evasive pattern. The Narada unleashed a torpedo. It streaked through space, a harbinger of destruction aimed squarely at the Enterprise. Time seemed to slow as the crew watched its approach, hearts pounding in their chests.


    In a feat of piloting that would have made even the most seasoned helmsman proud, Sulu guided the Enterprise through an intricate series of moves. The torpedo separated, its components passing perilously close to the ship. One piece struck the shields with a resounding impact that reverberated through the hull, while another found its mark on the main dish.


    The bridge rocked violently, consoles sparking and crew members struggling to maintain their footing. Sulu announced, "Shields at thirty-two percent! Their weapons are powerful, Sir. We can''t take another hit like that!"


    Pike''s face was a mask of determination as he issued his next command. "Get me Starfleet Command!"


    Before anyone could respond, Spock''s voice interjected, his tone as level as ever despite the dire circumstances. "Captain, the Romulan ship has lowered some kind of high-energy pulse device into the Vulcan atmosphere. Its signal appears to be blocking our communications and transporter abilities!"


    They were cut off and isolated, with no way to call for reinforcements or beam anyone to safety.


    "All power to forward shields," Pike ordered, "Prepare to fire all weapons!"


    The Enterprise swooped around, its phaser banks lighting up as it unleashed a barrage against the Narada. The massive Romulan ship seemed to shrug off the assault; its shields held strong.


    Pike''s voice rose above the sounds of battle. "Divert auxiliary power from port nacelle to the shields!"


    But his order was cut short, as Uhura called out. "Captain, we''re being hailed!"


    A moment of stunned silence fell over the bridge. Pike turned to Uhura, his expression a mixture of suspicion and curiosity. He gave a curt nod, signaling her to proceed.


    Uhura''s fingers danced over her console, and suddenly, the viewscreen flickered to life. The image of a Romulan appeared. There was an air of cool confidence about him.


    Tyson, standing amidst the tense atmosphere of the bridge, took in the familiar face on the screen.


    Nero.


    The Romulan''s gaze swept across the bridge. When he spoke, his voice was smooth, almost pleasant, contrasting the destruction his ship had wrought.


    The tension on the Enterprise''s bridge was palpable as Nero''s face filled the viewscreen. "Hello," he greeted with a hint of amusement in his tone.


    Pike''s response was immediate and professional. "I am Captain Christopher Pike. To whom am I speaking?"


    "Hi Christopher, I''m Nero." The Romulan''s lips curled into what might have been a smile, though it held no warmth.


    Kirk stared at the man on the screen. This was the face of the monster who had murdered his father. His hands clenched into fists at his sides, knuckles turning white with the effort of restraining himself.


    Pike attempted to defuse the situation. "You''ve declared war against the Federation. Withdraw, and I''ll agree to arrange a conference with Romulan leadership at a neutral local¡­"


    Nero cut him off, his voice taking on a harder edge. "I do not speak for the Empire. We stand apart." His eyes shifted, focusing on a point just beyond Pike. "As does your Vulcan crew member... isn''t that right? Spock?"


    All eyes on the bridge turned to Spock. The Vulcan''s face remained impassive, but those who knew him well could detect a flicker of surprise in his dark eyes. He looked to Pike, who gave a slight nod, granting permission to speak.


    Spock addressed Nero, his tone measured and calm. "Pardon me. But I don''t believe you and I are acquainted."


    A strange expression crossed Nero''s face. "No, we''re not. Not yet." He paused, letting the words hang in the air before continuing. "I would like you to see something. Spock."


    The crew exchanged uneasy glances. Before anyone could interject, Nero turned his attention back to Pike.


    "Captain Pike, your transporter capability is disabled. You will man a shuttle and come aboard the Narada for negotiations. That is all."


    The transmission ended abruptly, leaving the bridge in stunned silence. The gravity of the situation settled over them like a heavy blanket.


    Kirk was the first to break the silence, his words tumbling out in a rush of urgency. "He''ll kill you, you know that¡­"


    Spock, in an uncharacteristic display of agreement with Kirk, added his own objection. "Your survival is unlikely. Captain, we gain nothing by diplomacy. Going over to that ship is a mistake."


    Pike held up a hand, silencing both of them. "I understand that." He turned to address the entire bridge, his voice ringing with authority. "I need officers who have been trained in advanced hand-to-hand combat!"


    Sulu''s hand shot up immediately, followed closely by Tyson''s. "I have training, Sir!" Sulu called out.


    Pike nodded, his mind already formulating a plan. "Then come with me." His gaze swept over to Kirk and Tyson. "Kirk, Tyson, you too. You''re not supposed to be here anyway."


    He turned to Chekov, the young navigator looking both excited and terrified at being directly addressed. "Radio the engine room and have Engineer Olsen meet us at Shuttle Bay Five."


    "Aye, Keptin," Chekov responded, his accent thickening with nervous energy as he hurried to comply.


    "Let''s go," Pike ordered, already striding towards the bridge doors. They whooshed open, and the selected team followed him out, leaving the rest of the crew to watch.


    Reaching the turbolift, Pike turned to face his crew. His voice was steady, betraying none of the anxiety he felt. "Without transporters, we can''t beam off the ship, can''t assist Vulcan, can''t do our job. I''m creating an opportunity. Engineer Olson, Mr. Kirk, Sulu, and Tyson will space-jump from the shuttle. You''ll have chutes, you''ll land on that machine they''ve lowered into the atmosphere that''s scrambling our transporters and communications, you''ll get inside, disable that thing then beam back to the ship." Kirk and Sulu exchanged an incredulous look at the audacity of the plan. Pike continued, his gaze shifting to Spock. "Mr. Spock, I''m leaving you in command of the ship. Once we have transport capability and communications back up, you''ll contact Starfleet and report what the hell''s happening here."


    "Something you''ve got only a precious few minutes to figure out. If all else fails, fall back and rendezvous with the fleet in the Laurentian System."


    Spock''s usually impassive face showed a flicker of alarm, but before he could respond, Pike dropped another bombshell. "Kirk. I''m promoting you to First Officer."


    The announcement was met with twin exclamations of shock. "What?!" Kirk blurted, while Spock''s eyebrows shot up as he questioned, "Captain?"


    Pike''s voice remained steady, a hint of grim humor in his tone. "While I''m gone, we need to keep the chain of command. And you two make a swell team."


    Spock, still struggling to process this turn of events, attempted to rationalize it. "Captain. Please. I apologize, but the complexities of human pranks escape me."


    "It''s not a prank, Spock," Pike replied. "And I''m not the Captain. You are."


    With that declaration, Pike turned, ready to move forward with their desperate plan. Kirk, finally shaking off the shock of his unexpected promotion, asked, "Once we knock out that machine... Sir, what happens to you?"


    Pike paused, turning back to face them. Determined but resigned he answered, "I guess you''ll have to come get me." Then, with a nod to Spock, he added, "Careful with the ship. She''s brand new."


    The turbolift doors opened, revealing the bustling activity of the shuttle bay. Chief Engineer Olsen was already there.


    The pure audacity of Pike''s bravery washed over the team. At that moment, each of them knew they would willingly die for their captain. Pike, sensing the shift in the atmosphere, turned to Kirk and Sulu with a final command. "Suit up, Gentlemen."


    As they neared the shuttle, the reality of what they were about to do seemed to hit them all at once. Pike paused at the shuttle''s entrance, turning to face his team one last time. "Whatever happens, I''m proud to serve with each of you. Let''s show these Romulans what Starfleet is made of."


    With those final words of encouragement, they boarded the shuttle, the door sealing behind them with a sense of finality. The shuttle bay doors opened, revealing the vast expanse of space and the looming form of the Narada.


    <hr>


    Tyson


    Origins: Human, Humanoid, Drop-In, Space Pirate, Bad Guy, Officer


    Race: Augment Human-Betazoid (Hybrid)


    Character Points: 1200, [250 KOTOR (Vicky)]


    Reality Points: 250


    Ship Points: 1700


    Credits: 116,450


    Status Effects: (none)


    Drawbacks:


    Gauntlet (Locked)


    Ensign Marty Stu


    A Simple Re''Q''uest


    Hybrid (Betazoid)


    Amok Time/Blood Fever


    Outlawed


    Mary Sue


    Perks:


    Cosmic Awareness


    Out of Nowhere


    Going Native


    Live and Let Live


    This is (Not?) Rocket Science


    Kinda Bland


    Determinator


    Painted On


    Snakeskin


    Adaptable


    Duelist


    Master with your Hands


    Best of the Best


    Everything Is A Weapon


    Augment


    Force Specialization: Intelligence


    Tactical Info


    Sever Force


    Specialty: Operations; Sub-Specialties (Communications, Engineering, Piloting)


    Items:


    Laser Blade


    Spacesuit


    Agony Booth


    Cloaking Minefield


    Lightsaber


    Gray Goo Suit


    Transwarp Beam Equation


    Companions:


    (Vicky) V-KO IV Nursedroid: Access Key, Artificial Intelligence Upgrade, Gray Goo Upgrade, Master With Your Hands, Light Weapon, Jumper''s Master Key, Scaling Cloak, Origin:Jedi, Force Specialization: Intelligence, Enhanced Mind, Lightsaber, Armored Robes, Battle Meditation


    T''Pol: Access Key


    Personal Reality:


    Access Key (Additional Keys, Key Link)


    Security System


    High-Security Inter-Reality Connecting Door (Star Trek Enterprise, Star Wars Knights of the Old Republic)


    Medical Bay (The Nano-Medical Lab, The Bio-Synthesis Lab, Microbiome Replacement Lab)


    Housing Complex (Basic Nutrition, Choice Apartments, Who''s Got the Powa, Pipes Pipes Pipes)


    Playing With Portals (Portal Link, Portal Control Rod, Free Portal)


    The Mystical Menagerie


    Spaceships:


    Tramp Freighter (Destroyed - Respawn on 02/28/2365)


    Sith Interceptor (Bridge Upgrade)


    Automated Repair Station (Ship Size Rating: IV, Station, Bridge, Space Hulk, Artificial Gravity, Cryo-Chambers, Auto-Repair System, Synapses, Distributed, Automated Ship, Analytic Suite, Docking Port, Transporter Room, Matter Printer, Negentropy Reactor, Deflector Shields, Clarketech Module, Production Lines, Hangar, Cargo Bay, Living Quarters)

 Season 2: Episode 19 - Narada

    Episode 19 - Narada


    Stardate: 41263.6


    Earth Standard Date: April 6, 2364.


    Abrams-Verse Standard Date: February 11, 2258


    Location: USS Enterprise NCC-1701 orbiting Vulcan, 40 Eridani A System, Alpha Quadrant


    "I am pumped to kick some Romulan ass!" Engineer Olson exclaimed, his voice brimming with misplaced enthusiasm. "No joke. BRING IT ON!"


    Kirk shot him a sidelong glance. He shook his head slightly, his expression mixing disbelief and resignation when he considered that this was the guy carrying the explosions. Turning his attention to Sulu, he asked, "So, what kinda combat training do you have?"


    Sulu straightened in his seat. "Fencing," he replied with a proud smile, as if it were the most natural answer in the world.


    Kirk blinked, his face a mask of incredulity. "...fencing," he repeated, the word hanging in the air like a deflated balloon.


    Shifting his gaze to Tyson, Kirk raised an eyebrow. "What about you?"


    Tyson, who''d been watching Kirk''s growing exasperation, seized the moment to mess with him. He replied evenly, "Shii-Cho."


    Kirk perked up. "What''s that?" he asked, hoping the unknown training would actually help with their mission.


    "A form of combat usable with either bladed or energy weapons," Tyson explained vaguely.


    Kirk tilted his head back, tapping his helmet against the shuttle''s interior. He closed his eyes for a moment, wondering how he''d ended up with this motley crew for such a crucial mission.


    In the cockpit, Pike''s fingers tapped at the controls. The shuttle''s engine whined to life, and the craft lurched forward. They soared out of the Enterprise''s bay, the red orb of Vulcan looming below them.


    As they descended, the true scale of their mission became apparent. The Narada hung in space like a monstrous spider, its tentacle-like appendages stretched outward. A single cable extended toward Vulcan''s outer atmosphere. At the end of these cables, the plasma pulsed, its beam boring into the planet''s surface.


    A klaxon sounded, signaling the cargo lock''s imminent depressurization. The team scrambled to their feet, snatching at handrails and readying their equipment.


    Pike''s voice crackled over their headsets, steady and authoritative. "Pre-jump on one."


    Suddenly, gravity shifted, and Kirk, Sulu, Tyson, and Olson were slammed hard into the cargo hold wall.


    "Good luck," Pike''s voice came again, a hint of concern coloring his words.


    "Three, two, one."


    Pike hit another control. The shuttle''s bomb bay doors yawned open, and the vacuum of space hungrily pulled at them.


    Kirk felt his stomach lurch as the depressurization of the shuttle''s open bay sucked them into the endless black of space.


    The thin air howled past Kirk''s helmet like a hurricane. He clawed desperately at the controls on his suit, fighting to stabilize himself as the ground rushed up to meet them.


    Sulu''s voice cut through, surprisingly calm. "Stabilizers engaged!"


    Kirk watched as Sulu''s form straightened, his descent becoming more controlled. Following suit, Kirk activated his stabilizers, feeling the sudden jerk as his fall became more controlled. Olson''s whoops of excitement crackled over the comm system, a stark contrast to his teammates'' focused silence. Vulcan loomed before them, a swirling vortex of burnt orange and crimson, growing larger by the second as they plunged through the planet''s outer atmosphere.


    Tyson adjusted his position to match the others. The flight stabilizers and parachutes were welcome additions to his Grey Goo Suit. Although they didn''t provide enough lift for flight, they would allow him to maneuver while in freefall in the future.


    As they fell, the enormity of the Narada came into sharp focus before being quickly left behind. Its massive dark form was a looming presence. Their destination, the plasma drill pulsing beneath them, growing clearer with each passing second.


    Tyson''s eyes darted between his teammates and their target. His HUD displayed their rate of fall, distance to target, and other calculations while his mind considered their approach and possible contingencies.


    "WHOOOAAAHYYYEAAAAH!" Olson''s exhilarated shout came through the comms.


    The team plummeted face down, their bodies streamlined against the rushing wind. Alongside them, the massive cable tethering the drill to the Narada seemed to stretch endlessly, giving a dizzying sense of scale and speed. The sheer enormity of their surroundings made them feel like insects hurtling through a world of giants.


    Massive metal links whizzed past at breakneck speed. The team angled their descent, desperately seeking to control the freefall.


    Sulu was the first to pull his chute. The fabric snapped open with a crack, jerking him upward with bone-rattling force. Kirk followed suit moments later. As their descent slowed, Olson and Tyson blew past them, still in freefall. The red-shirted engineer whooped with delight, seemingly oblivious to the danger.


    Sulu''s alarmed voice crackled through the comm. "You''re coming in too fast! Pull up!"


    Kirk''s eyes widened as he watched the two figures plummet toward the drill platform. "Tyson, OLSON, PULL NOW! NOW!!!" he bellowed into his mic, fear gripping his chest.


    Kirk glanced at his heads-up display, watching in horror as the altitude numbers ticked down at an alarming rate. The drill platform was rushing up to meet them with terrifying speed.


    Tyson''s voice came through calmly. "Olson, adjust your angle of approach. We need to hit the platform at the optimal speed."


    Olson''s reply was manic laughter. "Optimal speed? The faster, the better! Let''s show these Romulans what we''re made of!"


    Tyson pulled his chute, the fabric unfurling above him like a lifeline. His voice was urgent, and he called out to Olson once more: "Five seconds, and you won''t be able to recover."


    Olson spoke over him, his voice filled with misplaced confidence. "Almost there!"


    Tyson finished, "Two. One¡­"


    The team watched in horror as Olson finally deployed his chute... Two seconds after Tyson recommended.


    Fifty feet. Forty. Thirty. The fabric billowed out and opened far too late to be effective. Olson slammed into the edge of the circular drill with bone-crushing force, his body bouncing off the hard steel like a rag doll.


    Time seemed to slow as Olson tumbled over the edge of the platform. His chute caught on the drill''s structure, leaving him dangling precariously. His body swung below the drill, inching closer to the center where the swirling plasma vortex fired relentlessly into the planet below.


    Tyson had hoped his warning would have prevented this disaster, but he was prepared for this contingency. He closed his eyes, focusing intently as he called upon the Force. The air around him seemed to crackle with unseen energy as he gathered every ounce of concentration he could muster.


    With a burst of telekinetic power, Tyson slammed Olson''s swinging form and the drill. The push launched Olson away from the deadly plasma stream, knocking his parachute loose from where it had snagged on the structure. The massive drill only swayed slightly under his assault, but his push had served its purpose. Olson was clear of immediate danger. The engineer floated toward the planet''s surface, his intact chute billowing above him.


    Kirk and Sulu watched in disbelief as Olson drifted away, growing smaller against the burnt orange backdrop of Vulcan. He was safe but now completely out of reach of the drill platform and their mission.


    Tyson gracefully landed on the platform, rolling smoothly to disperse the momentum. Ivy, the VI in his Gray Goo Suit, timed the parachute''s retraction perfectly, leaving no chance of it catching as Olson''s had.


    The metallic surface of the platform vibrated beneath his feet, pulsing with the raw energy of the plasma drill. A hatch on the platform suddenly hissed open, the sound barely audible over the roar of the drill. A Romulan began to rise from the opening, his eyes widening as he registered the unexpected presence on the platform. Tyson''s hand moved in a blur, his phaser materializing as if conjured from thin air. Without hesitation, he squeezed the trigger. A bolt of energy lanced out, striking the Romulan squarely in the chest. The alien''s body jerked backward, falling into the hatch from which he''d emerged.


    Tyson smiled at the weapon. He mused that he''d probably keep it. It was shaped like a gun, which was far nicer than the phasers on the Enterprise-D. Plus, it had a stun setting, something that was woefully missing on his blaster weapons.


    Kirk''s approach was far less graceful. He came in hard, his body slamming against the drill''s edge. For a heart-stopping moment, it seemed he might bounce off entirely. But Kirk''s survival instincts kicked in, and his hands scrabbled for purchase on the smooth metal surface. His parachute flailed behind him, the drag threatening to pull him off.


    Breathing heavily, Kirk hit a button on his chute pack. Slits appeared in the fabric of his parachute, suddenly eliminating the drag. The chute retracted into his pack with a soft whir.


    Sulu, however, wasn''t as fortunate. About 20 yards from landing on the drill, his chute became ensnared in the thick cables leading from the platform to the Narada. The sudden jerk nearly tore him from the sky, and his body swung wildly toward the drill''s edge. For a moment, it seemed that Sulu was destined to follow Olson''s path, sailing over the edge into the abyss below.


    But Tyson was there in an instant, his hand shooting out to grasp Sulu''s arm. The helmsman''s eyes widened in shock. His momentum would drag Tyson over the edge with him.


    Yet, miraculously, Tyson held firm. His feet slid only a few feet across the platform''s surface, leaving twin grooves in the metal as he arrested Sulu''s momentum.


    Without missing a beat, Tyson produced his Lightsaber seemingly from nowhere. The weapon hummed to life, and with a single precise slash of the glowing blade, he sliced through Sulu''s parachute cords, freeing the helmsman from the tangle that threatened to pull him to his doom.


    Sulu''s feet touched the platform, and his legs wobbled slightly as he regained his balance. He opened his mouth to thank Tyson, but the words died in his throat as he saw movement behind his rescuer.


    "Behind you!" Sulu shouted.


    Another Romulan had emerged from a hatch, weapon raised and ready to fire. But Tyson, without so much as glancing back, threw his arm out. The Lightsaber sailed through the air straight as a pin and with impossible precision. It impaled the Romulan squarely in the chest, the alien''s eyes widening in shock before he crumpled to the ground.


    Sulu struggled to process what he''d just witnessed. Tyson, however, remained calm and collected. He reached his hand toward the fallen Romulan, and the weapon seemed to leap back into his hand as if drawn by an unseen force.


    Two more hatches burst open. A pair of Romulans emerged, their faces contorted with rage and determination. They raised their disruptor rifles, energy bolts lancing out toward the Federation intruders.


    But Tyson was ready. With inhuman speed and precision, he swung the weapon, intercepting the phaser bolts. The energy blasts ricocheted off the lightsaber''s blade; their trajectories reversed.


    The Romulans, caught completely off guard by this impossible feat, had no time to react. Their own shots struck them squarely in the chest. They collapsed to the platform, smoke rising from their scorched armor.


    Kirk and Sulu stood rooted to the spot, their eyes wide with disbelief. They stared at Tyson, then at the fallen Romulans, then back at Tyson.


    Kirk''s mouth opened and closed several times before he finally found his voice. "What... what the hell was that?" he managed to croak out, his eyes fixed on the glowing blade in Tyson''s hand.


    Sulu could only shake his head in amazement. "I''ve never seen anything like it," he murmured, his voice barely audible over the background noise of the drill.


    Tyson deactivated his lightsaber. He returned it to its place at his lower back, hidden within his Gray Goo Suit. His movements were casual as if he hadn''t just performed feats that should have been impossible. "Shii-Cho," he said calmly. "We already talked about this."


    The two officers just stared at him, dumbstruck. "We need to disable this drill. Can you guys handle it?" Tyson asked, picking up the Romulan disruptors from the dead enemies and tossing them to the two officers. Before striding to the platform''s edge. Without waiting for Kirk or Sulu''s reply, he waved his hand and tore open a portal in the air. Without hesitation, he leapt into the portal and vanished from sight.


    Kirk and Sulu exchanged bewildered looks since they couldn''t see the portal from their position on the platform. "Where''s he going?" Sulu finally managed, confusion etched on his face.


    "Maybe to grab Olson?" Kirk guessed. He turned his attention to the thick cables anchoring the massive drill to the Romulan ship. Taking aim with the disruptor rifle, he unleashed a barrage of sizzling energy bolts. They splashed across the cord''s surface, scorching the metal. Sulu joined him in the assault.


    ¡ª Star Jumper ¡ª


    Tyson tumbled through the portal, flipping like a gymnast to land smoothly back inside the shuttlecraft. A quick glance at his surroundings revealed it had already docked within the Narada. Captain Pike was nowhere in sight.


    Wasting no time, Tyson activated his Scaling Cloak. The bubble enveloped him in a field of invisibility, rendering him undetectable to both visual observation and sensor scans.


    The shuttle door hissed open. Tyson stepped out into the Narada''s cavernous hold, and his cloak ensured his footsteps went silent on the deck. The Romulan vessel''s architecture was unlike anything he''d encountered before: Organic curves melded with sharp, angular structures.


    "Ivy, can we get a layout, a direction to the command center or the bridge?"


    "Sure thing, Tyson. Analyzing now." The integrated tricorder within the Gray Goo Suit began scanning the unfamiliar environment. A three-dimensional map blossomed in Tyson''s field of vision, a glowing path highlighting the route to what appeared to be the Narada''s bridge. Tyson set off, his enhanced senses on high alert as he navigated the massive vessel. The ship''s interior of passageways and chambers seemed to defy conventional starship design. Tyson moved quickly, avoiding Romulan crewmembers who rushed past, oblivious to his cloaked presence.


    As he neared his destination, a Romulan helmsman burst from a nearby corridor, sprinting towards the command center. Tyson quickened his pace, easily keeping up with the crew member. They reached the bridge together, and the Romulan''s voice rose in alarm as he addressed his Captain.


    "The drill''s been sabotaged, Sir!" the helmsman shouted.


    Tyson smiled in satisfaction. Kirk and Sulu succeeded. Things were going to plan. His gaze locked onto Nero as the Romulan Captain''s face contorted with rage and frustration. Nero''s eyes darted between his crew and the main viewscreen. Tyson could almost see the gears turning in the Romulan''s head as he prepared to give his next order.


    Just as Nero opened his mouth to speak, a brilliant bolt of energy seared through the air. The phaser shot struck Nero squarely in the chest, sending him staggering backward.


    The Romulan officers whirled around, searching for the source of the attack. Their eyes widened in shock as they beheld an armored figure standing confidently at the entrance to the command center. Tyson had deactivated his cloak, revealing himself in all his glory.


    Tyson''s Gray Goo Suit had shifted into a set of sleek yet imposing Mandalorian-style armor. The angular beskar plates fit smoothly over the nanite fabric. Across his broad chest plate sat a prominent Starfleet insignia in operations division red. The bold crimson symbol marked him unmistakably as a representative of the Federation, yet the Mandalorian armor signaled he was not to be trifled with.


    His helmet featured the iconic T-shaped visor of the Old Republic Mandalorian warriors. The helmet''s angular shape and thin visor slits gave Tyson an intimidating appearance.


    The Romulans froze in stunned disbelief at the figure before them. Tyson stood his ground, letting the weight of his unexpected presence sink in. Even Captain Pike, strapped to a nearby table, turned his head to witness the spectacle. His eyes widened in disbelief, a mixture of hope and confusion etched across his face.


    After a taut moment, Nero fell to the ground, unmoving.


    With a soft hiss, a pair of blades extended from Tyson''s hands. The left blade glowed a vibrant blue, while the right crackled with emerald energy. His voice rang out, amplified by his suit''s systems. "I suggest you all stand down. Now."


    The Romulans hesitated, torn between their loyalty to Nero and the fear inspired by this mysterious warrior. They turned to their leader, but Nero still lay on the ground, unmoving, dead, and with a smoking wound in his chest. His crew snapped into action, drawing their disruptors and taking aim at Tyson.


    In a blur of motion, Tyson leapt into the fray. His energy blades hummed and crackled as they deflected disruptor bolts with impossible precision. He moved with inhuman speed, a whirlwind of blue and green light cutting through the Romulan ranks. His martial prowess was a sight to behold. One moment, he was cutting through a burly Romulan guard. The next, he was using a Force push to send a cluster of enemies flying across the bridge into an open chasm.


    As the battle raged, Pike struggled against his restraints. He watched in awe as Tyson single-handedly took on the entire bridge crew. The Captain tried to make sense of the situation and find a way to assist his unexpected savior.


    The Romulan second in command, his face contorted with desperation as he realized that they wouldn''t be able to stop this foe. He lunged for the nearest console, quickly inputting a command, he shouted, "Launching the red matter!"


    Tyson spun, deflecting a disruptor bolt with his Laser Blade. The redirected shot seared through the air, striking the Romulan squarely in the back. The officer crumpled to the ground, but his final act was complete. The console beeped its affirmation.


    Sealing Vulcan''s fate.


    Wasting no time, Tyson dashed to the table where Pike lay strapped down. His helmet retracted as he approached, revealing his face to Pike. With a display of strength that defied human limits, he tore through the restraints.


    "What the hell is red matter?" Pike demanded.


    Tyson''s reply was terse. His focus split between the conversation and the remaining threats. "A substance that, when disturbed, creates a singularity."


    As the words left Tyson''s mouth, Pike pieced together the horrifying implications. His train of thought was interrupted as Tyson deflected another disruptor blast, the energy ricocheting off his blade and striking down the last of the Romulan crew in the area.


    "They were drilling a hole into the center of the planet¡­ They''re going to create a black hole within the center of Vulcan," Pike realized aloud, his voice thick with horror. "The planet is going to be destroyed."


    With a gesture, the air before them shimmered and tore, revealing a portal. Through the impossible opening, Pike could see a clear blue sky. He grabbed Pike''s arm and pulled him through the portal. The Captain''s world spun as he stepped from the dim interior of the Narada onto the sun-drenched platform of the drill. The abrupt transition left Pike disoriented. Kirk and Sulu, still on the platform, reacted with a mixture of shock and relief at their sudden appearance. They quickly moved to support Pike, questions burning in their eyes.


    But Tyson paid them no mind, his gaze fixed on the sky above. His helmet reformed over his head. "Ivy, zoom in," he commanded.


    The heads-up display within his helmet responded instantly, magnifying his view of the upper atmosphere. There, a tiny speck had separated from the Narada, plummeting towards the planet''s surface. Tyson could just make out the details of the probe.


    "Can you see it?" Pike asked, following Tyson''s gaze but unable to see what had captured his attention.


    Kirk, still not knowing what was going on, asked, "See what?"


    "The end of Vulcan," Tyson replied grimly. "Unless we can stop it."


    Pike, leaning heavily on Sulu, spoke up. "How? We''re stuck on this platform, and that thing must already be entering the atmosphere."


    Tyson''s mind raced, considering and discarding options at lightning speed¡­


    ¡­Open a portal and try to catch the probe in freefal. But then what? Even if he could reach the probe in time, how would he neutralize the red matter?


    "You need to get back to the Enterprise," Tyson decided.


    Kirk agreed. "Kirk to Enterprise, Four to beam up."


    Tyson countered, "Correction. Three to beam up." Then activated his Scaling Cloak, disappearing from sight and sensors.


    The Starfleet officers dematerialized in a transporter beam and were pulled back to the Enterprise. But Tyson, now invisible to the sensors, was left standing on the drilling platform. He pulled up his HUD, looked through his System options, and tried to find something he could purchase to save Vulcan. Luckily, he didn''t need to browse the entire library of choices. He already had something in mind.


    Tyson purchased the Portal Aperture upgrade three times. The system confirmed his selection.


    [100 RP] Portal Aperture (Personal Reality)


    You can now shrink your portals down to Planck scale or open them up to 8,000 square meters and increase the rate of expansion/contraction by a factor of 10. Additional Purchases will increase the maximum portal size to 80,000, then to 800,000, then to 8 million square meters. The expansion/contraction rate increases by a factor of 10 each time.


    Reality Points: 100


    "Ivy, calculate the trajectory of the red matter probe," Tyson commanded, his voice steady despite the gravity of the situation.


    "Calculating now," Ivy responded, "Trajectory plotted. The probe will pass your current position in approximately 47 seconds."


    "Opening portal now," he announced. The portal needed to be opened within 100 meters of his current position. So Tyson projected it as far away from his current position on the drilling platform as he could.


    The portal started small, a pinprick of darkness against the Vulcan sky. But it rapidly expanded, growing at a rate far faster than what would have been possible prior to his purchase. As the portal widened, he felt the first stirrings of a powerful suction. The atmosphere around him began to rush towards the opening, creating a vortex of swirling air. Loose debris from the drilling platform was pulled into the void, disappearing into the inky blackness of space on the other side.


    The portal continued to grow, and so did its pull. He was forced to grab onto the drilling platform. He watched as the opening expanded to truly massive proportions.


    "Portal size approaching 100,000 square meters," Ivy reported.


    Tyson''s eyes locked onto the tiny speck plummeting through the Vulcan sky. The red matter probe, a harbinger of destruction, was falling rapidly towards its target.


    As the probe streaked past his position on the drilling platform, Tyson held his breath. For a heart-stopping moment, it seemed as though the portal might not be large enough. That his calculations might have been off by the slightest margin.


    But then, in the blink of an eye, the probe disappeared. One moment, it was there, a deadly projectile aimed at the heart of Vulcan, and the next, it was gone, swallowed by the portal and ejected back into the void of space on the other side of the portal.


    "Probe successfully diverted," Ivy confirmed.


    With another gesture, Tyson began to shrink the massive opening. The edges of the portal contracted rapidly, the swirling vortex of air diminishing as the hole grew smaller and smaller. In mere seconds, the sky above Vulcan was whole once more, as if the impossible feat had never occurred.


    Tyson let out a long, shaky breath, the adrenaline of the moment finally catching up with him. He had done it.


    But there was no time to celebrate. The Narada was still in orbit. Tyson opened another portal, stepping back into the Romulan vessel.


    ¡ª Star Jumper ¡ª


    Captain Pike, recently returned to the bridge, leaned forward in his chair, his eyes fixed on the viewscreen.


    "Can anyone tell me what I''m looking at?" Pike asked.


    Spock looked up from his console to the screen. "It seems to be a micro-wormhole leading to Vulcan''s atmosphere. Sensors place the opening near the drill platform."


    As if on cue, a small pod emerged from the swirling vortex. The wormhole collapsed suddenly, leaving the pod drifting in space. Without any visible propulsion system, it continued its trajectory, carried by its momentum.


    The bridge crew watched in tense silence as the pod sailed through the debris field. Suddenly, it collided with a piece of twisted metal, a remnant from a Starfleet vessel destroyed in the earlier battle. Upon impact, the pod began to implode. It started slowly at first, the metal skin of the device crumpling inward like a crushed soda can. Then, with frightening speed, it collapsed in on itself. The implosion created a blinding flash of light that forced the bridge crew to shield their eyes.


    When they looked back, a small, dark sphere hung in space where the pod had been. From their vantage point, it was no larger than a marble, but the sensors told a different story. The newly formed black hole''s gravitational pull was already affecting the debris around it, drawing in fragments of metal and rock.


    Chekov called out, his accent thickening with his urgency, "Keptin, gravitational sensors are off the scale. If my calculations are correct, that''s a singularity."


    Spock''s face remained impassive, but those who knew him well could detect the slightest tightening around his eyes. It was the only outward sign of his tumultuous emotions. "They''ve created a black hole," Spock stated, his voice unnaturally calm. "That was aimed at the center of Vulcan?" He paused, piecing together the implications. "It would have destroyed the planet."


    The weight of his words settled over the bridge like a shroud. The crew exchanged glances, the gravity of their narrow escape sinking in.


    Chekov''s voice cut through the silence. "Sir, it still might."


    Pike turned sharply towards the young Ensign. "Explain."


    Chekov swallowed hard, his eyes darting between his Captain and the viewscreen. "We''ve never seen a singularity this close to a planet. Though it''s small, it can have a significant impact on the system."


    "Mr. Sulu, back us off," Pike ordered. "Maintain a safe distance."


    "Aye, sir. Reversing course."


    Pike turned to Spock. "What are we dealing with here, Commander? What kind of threat does this pose to Vulcan?"


    Spock''s eyes were fixed on the viewscreen, watching as the black hole slowly grew, consuming the debris around it. "The singularity''s proximity to Vulcan is unprecedented. While its current size may not pose an immediate threat to the planet''s integrity, its gravitational influence could have severe consequences for Vulcan''s climate and tectonic stability."


    "Not to mention the effect on Vulcan''s orbit," Chekov added, his voice barely above a whisper. "Projections weport the singularity is slowly expanding."


    Pike nodded grimly. "Options?"


    The bridge fell silent as the crew grappled with the enormity of the problem.


    "What about using the ship''s deflector dish?" Sulu proposed. "We might be able to generate a tachyon field to contain the singularity."


    Chekov shook his head. "The power wequirements would be enormous. We''d risk burning out our systems before we could stabilize the field." But his eyes widened as an idea struck him. He spun in his chair. "Keptin, what if we detonate the warp core?"


    The bridge fell silent, all eyes turning to the young Ensign.


    Pike leaned forward, his brow furrowed. "Explain, Mr. Chekov."


    Chekov''s fingers flew across his console as he pulled up calculations. "The singularity is still wrelatively small. If we detonate our warp core at precisely the right moment, the explosion could disrupt the black hole''s event horizon. It might be enough to destabilize it completely."


    Spock stepped closer, peering over Chekov''s shoulder at the rapidly scrolling equations. "The theory is sound," he agreed.


    "We''d be dead in the water," Sulu pointed out, his hands hovering over the helm controls.


    Pike nodded grimly. "And potentially creating an even bigger problem if we miscalculate."


    "Not to mention the radiation," Dr. McCoy''s voice came over the comm system. He''d been listening in from Sickbay. "Even if we succeed, we''d be bathing Vulcan in a hell of a lot of harmful particles."


    Pike nodded, taking in all the information. He turned to Spock. "Commander, what''s your assessment of Vulcan''s chances if we don''t act?"


    Spock''s face remained impassive, but there was a tightness around his eyes that betrayed his concern. "The singularity''s growth is exponential. At its current rate, Vulcan has approximately 47.3 hours before the gravitational stresses begin to tear the planet apart. Even before that point, the climatic and tectonic disruptions will make the surface uninhabitable."


    A heavy silence fell over the bridge as the weight of Spock''s words sank in.


    "So we''re talking about the destruction of an entire planet," Pike said quietly. "Billions of lives." He stood, pacing the small area behind the Captain''s chair. He turned to face his crew. "Alright, let''s break this down. Mr. Chekov, I want you to refine these calculations. We need to know exactly how much time we have and precisely when we''d need to detonate to have the best chance of success."You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.


    "Aye, Keptin," Chekov nodded, already turning back to his console.


    "Mr. Spock, coordinate with the Vulcan High Council. We need to know if they have any resources that could help us. And start preparing evacuation plans for the planet''s surface, just in case."


    Spock nodded, moving to his station to open a channel to Vulcan.


    "Dr. McCoy," Pike continued, addressing the comm system, "I need you to assess the potential health risks to the Vulcan population if we go through with this. Work with Mr. Spock to determine if there are any ways to mitigate the radiation exposure."


    "I''m on it," McCoy''s gruff voice replied.


    "Lieutenant Uhura, contact Starfleet Command. Inform them of our situation and request any assistance they can spare. We might need more ships for evacuation or to assist with the detonation."


    "Yes, sir," Uhura responded.


    "Mr. Sulu, maintain our position but be ready to move at a moment''s notice. If that singularity shows any signs of sudden growth, I want us out of here."


    "Understood, Captain," Sulu nodded, his hands poised over the controls.


    Pike looked to the other officers on the bridge. "Anyone who''s not doing something vital right now¡­ Contact the outpost on Delta Vega. I want to talk to this Mongomery Scott about his transwarp beaming equation. And I need someone to find Mr. Tyson. I want to know how he managed to open the micro-wormholes."


    ¡ª Star Jumper ¡ª


    Tyson moved silently through the cavernous interior of the Narada, his Scaling Cloak rendering him invisible to the Romulan crew. The ship''s dark, industrial design contrasted sharply with the Federation vessels he was accustomed to. Exposed pipes and conduits lined the walls, and the air was thick with the acrid smell of plasma and ozone.


    As he navigated the ship, his mind turned to the red matter. The substance''s potential for destruction was staggering, and he needed to secure it before the Romulans could use it again. Finally, he reached the hangar where the Jellyfish ship was docked. A lone Romulan guard stood watch, his disruptor rifle held at the ready.


    Tyson paused, assessing the situation. The guard''s eyes swept back and forth across the hangar, alert for any sign of intruders.


    Before the guard could even register the sudden appearance of an enemy, Tyson launched several precise punches. The Romulan crumpled to the ground, unconscious. He dragged the guard''s body behind a stack of cargo containers out of sight. He then turned his attention to the ship.


    As he approached, the vessel seemed to sense his presence. Panels along its hull began to glow with a soft, blue light. The ship''s entrance irised open as Tyson drew near. He stepped inside, and the interior illuminated automatically. The cockpit was a marvel of ergonomic design, with flowing lines and intuitive controls. At the center was a single command chair. He settled into the seat, which adjusted to his body shape. A holographic display sprang to life before him, hovering in the air. Text scrolled across the screen.


    Enter command codes.


    Within his Gray Goo Suit, he manifested the Jumper''s Master Key. The nanotech device took shape in his hand, a shimmering, metallic object that seemed to shift and flow like quicksilver.


    He held the Key up to the console. For a moment, nothing happened. Then, tendrils of nanites streamed from the Key, flowing into the ship''s systems like liquid metal. The holographic display flickered, then changed. Not even the ship from the future''s security could resist his system-backed item.


    "Access granted," the screen now read. "Welcome, Ensign Tyson."


    Tyson accessed the controls, familiarizing himself with the ship''s systems. As he explored the ship''s capabilities, his attention was drawn to a pulsing red icon on the display. He tapped it, and a schematic of the ship appeared, highlighting a spherical chamber at its core.


    "Red matter containment unit," the display informed him. "Current status: Stable. 98.3% of the original quantity remaining."


    The destructive potential contained within that small sphere was almost beyond comprehension. He knew he couldn''t leave it in renegade Romulan hands. He weighed his options. Leaving the ship with the Romulans wasn''t an option. The Jellyfish was designed for a single pilot, it wouldn''t be hard to fly it out of the Narada. The ship was small enough that he could fly it right into his Warehouse if he needed to. But did he really want red matter sitting in his Personal Reality?


    Tyson''s deliberations were interrupted by a sudden commotion outside the ship. Shouts in Romulan echoed through the hangar, followed by the sound of running feet. His time was up.


    He quickly imported the ship into his system and decommissioned it.


    [Free] Import (Spaceships)


    Instead of choosing a Ship Type and Size for purchase, import one space-worthy vessel you already own. Its default Section Size and Rating are that of a ship of the corresponding size. At your choice, ship parts you buy can either replace pre-existing parts of the original ship or exist in addition to them.


    Jellyfish (Spaceships)


    A ship commissioned in 2387 and piloted by Ambassador Spock during an attempt to prevent the destruction caused by the Romulan supernova. It has an artificial intelligence and is made to be crewed by an individual. It is armed with photonic weapons and metaphasic shields and is powered by a warp drive.


    Decommission (Spaceship)


    Destroy this vessel. Decommissioned vessels do not self-destruct. They are absorbed by the system. In return, you are granted half of its value in Ship Points. Any living creatures on a vessel, when decommissioned, will be sent to your Personal Reality along with any CP-backed items. Non-CP-backed items will be destroyed.


    [0 SP] Ship Size Rating: I


    [100 SP] Artificial Gravity


    [200 SP] Alcubierre Drive


    [300 SP] Antimatter Reactor


    [50 SP] Navigation Suite


    [100 SP] A.I. Core


    [100 SP] Deflector Shields


    [400 SP] Conflagration (Metaphasic) Shields


    [100 SP] Missiles


    [400 SP] Gravitic Manipulator (Red Matter)


    Total Adjusted Decommission Value: 875 SP


    Ship Points: 2575


    Upon decommissioning the ship, since he was still inside, he was instantly sent back into his Personal Reality. The moment of disorientation faded quickly. With a thought, Tyson focused his mind on the Narada. He visualized the corridor before the ship''s bridge. Opening a portal, he could see it had once again become a hive of activity as Romulan crew members had replaced the officers he''d killed earlier. They rushed to respond to the loss of their captured vessel and the Starfleet Captain, and the unexpected appearance of an intruder.


    Activating his Scaling Cloak, Tyson''s suit shield shifted, bending light around him and rendering him invisible to the naked eye. The portal closed behind him, leaving no trace of his entry. He stood still for a moment, allowing his senses to attune to his surroundings. The air was thick with tension, and the crew''s agitation was palpable. He could hear raised voices speaking in rapid Romulan.


    "...intruders on board..."


    "...the Jellyfish is gone..."


    "...Captain Nero is dead..."


    Tyson paused at the bridge''s threshold, taking in the scene before him. The massive viewscreen dominated the far wall, currently displaying a tactical readout of the space around Vulcan. Romulan officers hurried between stations, their movements frantic and uncoordinated. At the center of it all stood a Romulan with intricate facial tattoos. He barked orders in a deep, commanding voice. Tyson realized this must be Nero''s replacement.


    He needed to take control of the ship quickly and decisively. The Narada''s crew was already off-balance; he just needed to push them over the edge. Making his way to an unoccupied console near the edge of the bridge, he placed his hand on the surface, allowing the nanites of his Gray Goo Suit to interface with the ship''s systems. The Narada''s computer defenses were formidable, but the Jumper''s Master Key was like a cheat code. His nanites wormed their way through firewalls and security protocols, burrowing deep into the ship''s core systems.


    As Tyson worked, he kept one eye on the bridge crew. The Romulans were too preoccupied with their crisis to notice the subtle flickers of their consoles as he infiltrated their systems. Within moments, he had access to everything, including weapons, shields, propulsion, and life support.


    Now came the tricky part. Tyson pulled out his phaser and sighted the nearest Romulans. He opened fire, dropping every Romulan in the command area within 2 heartbeats. Bodies hit the floor with dull thuds as Tyson''s precise shots found their marks. The acrid smell of ozone filled the air, mingling with the metallic tang of blood.


    Tyson''s Scaling Cloak flickered and failed as he unleashed his assault, revealing his position. A few Romulans had been spared, diving for cover behind consoles when the first shots rang out.


    "Intruder!" a voice bellowed in Romulan. He drew his weapon, aiming it squarely at Tyson.


    Tyson rolled to the side, narrowly avoiding a barrage of disruptor fire that scorched the bulkhead behind him. As he came up from his roll, he squeezed off two more shots. The first caught a Romulan who''d popped up further back, attempting to sneak in a shot, sending him sprawling. The second struck the one who shouted, but not in the body. It hit the man''s weapon, causing it to explode in a shower of sparks.


    The Romulan howled in pain, clutching his mangled hand. His eyes locked onto Tyson, filled with hatred. "Who are you?" he snarled.


    Tyson didn''t answer. Instead, he vaulted over a nearby console, using it as cover as he continued to fire. His phaser hummed with each shot, its energy cells depleting rapidly.


    A disruptor bolt headed directly for him. He didn''t have his lightsaber out to deflect it. Instead, it grazed Tyson''s shield. He closed the distance to the nearest Romulan. The alien raised his weapon, but Tyson was faster. He knocked the disruptor aside with one hand while delivering a powerful strike to the Romulan''s solar plexus with the other. The Romulan doubled over, gasping for air.


    Spinning on his heel, Tyson faced the Romulan with the mangled hand, who seemed to be their newest leader. His eyes blazing with defiance. "You may have bested my crew," he growled, "but you will not take this ship."


    Tyson raised his phaser, aiming it squarely at the Romulan''s chest. "I already have," he replied coolly.


    The Romulan''s eyes widened as he realized the truth of Tyson''s words. He glanced around the bridge, taking in the fallen bodies of his crew. His shoulders slumped in defeat.


    "What do you want?" the Romulan asked, his voice heavy with resignation.


    "First, you''re going to order your remaining crew to stand down. Then, we''re going to leave this timeline."


    The Romulan''s eyes narrowed. "Why would I help you do that?"


    "Because," Tyson said, his voice hard, "the alternative is ending up like your Captain. Or the rest of them. Your choice."


    ¡ª Star Jumper ¡ª


    Tyson stood amid the eerie silence of the Narada''s bridge, the lifeless bodies of Romulan crew members scattered around him.


    "Computer, status report," he commanded.


    The ship responded in a monotone Romulan, but his universal translator converted the morbid message, "Life support systems offline in all sectors except the bridge. Crew casualties: One hundred percent."


    Tyson closed his eyes for a moment, exhaling slowly. He hadn''t wanted it to come to this, but the Romulans had left him no choice. They''d fought with a fervor born of desperation and hatred, refusing to yield even when faced with certain defeat.


    "At least Vulcan is safe," he muttered, seeking solace in the knowledge that billions of lives had been spared.


    He walked over to the main control console.


    [Free] Import (Spaceships)


    Instead of choosing a Ship Type and Size for purchase, import one space-worthy vessel you already own. Its default Section Size and Rating are that of a ship of the corresponding size. At your choice, ship parts you buy can either replace pre-existing parts of the original ship or exist in addition to them.


    Narada (Spaceships)


    A ship retrofitted with salvaged and reverse-engineered Borg technology. Subsequently, this ship can repair itself and has advanced sensors and a transwarp drive. The primary weapons are missiles. It is powered by an antimatter reactor and possesses a secondary warp drive.


    Decommission (Spaceship)


    Destroy this vessel. Decommissioned vessels do not self-destruct. They are absorbed by the system. In return, you are granted half of its value in Ship Points. Any living creatures on a vessel, when decommissioned, will be sent to your Personal Reality along with any CP-backed items. Non-CP-backed items will be destroyed.


    [300 SP] Ship Size Rating: IV


    [100 SP] Artificial Gravity


    [200 SP] Alcubierre Drive


    [200 SP] Auto-Repair System


    [100 SP] Exotic Materials (Nanomaterials)


    [100 SP] Cargo Bay


    [100 SP] Hangar


    [300 SP] Hyperdrive (Transwarp)


    [300 SP] Antimatter Reactor


    [50 SP] Navigation Suite


    [100 SP] Analytic Suite


    [100 SP] Deflector Shields


    [100 SP] Missiles


    [100 SP] Cyber Warfare Suite (Mining Drill)


    Total Adjusted Decommission Value: 1075 SP


    "Computer, display full technical schematics," he commanded.


    The viewscreen flickered to life, filling with intricate diagrams and scrolling data. The more he delved into the ship''s specifications, the more impressed he became.


    "No phasers, no transporters, but what it does have..."


    He trailed off, lost in thought. The Narada''s Rating IV classification put it above the Enterprise-D. This was a ship retrofitted with salvaged and reverse-engineered Borg technology. Its structure was composed largely of nanomachines, giving it an unprecedented ability to repair and reconfigure itself. The Romulans hadn''t directed this facet properly, leaving it with a strange urchin-like appearance.


    "Ivy," he called out, summoning his AI companion. "I need your analysis of this ship''s systems. Could you interface with it?"


    Ivy''s avatar flickered into view within his HUD as she processed the request. "Vicky could interface with the Narada''s systems, but full integration would require an AI Core upgrade. That would cost 100 Ship Points."


    "And if we had that, could she reconfigure the ship''s layout?"


    "Affirmative. The nanomachine structure allows for extensive reconfiguration."


    He continued his pacing, ideas forming rapidly. "The size is an issue. It''s too conspicuous. We''d need to reduce it significantly. The Space Hulk upgrade could address that. It would cost 200 or 300 SP, depending on the choice." Tyson paused, considering. "And we''d need phasers at the very least. Basic phaser arrays would cost 50 SP."


    "Transporters?"


    "That would be the most significant investment. A full transporter system would run 400 SP."


    It was a steep price, but as he looked around the bridge of this extraordinary vessel, he couldn''t shake the feeling that it was worth every point. He''d need to get to a starbase to upgrade it.


    ¡ª Star Jumper ¡ª


    Tyson opened a portal that revealed the inside of the Delta Vega outpost. "Spock," he called out through the portal. "It''s time to go."


    The Vulcan''s eyebrow arched as he stepped into view. "What of Nero?" he inquired.


    "Vulcan has been saved," Tyson responded, "Nero was killed, as were all the Romulans. I''ve taken control of the Narada." Spock''s eyes widening was the only outward sign of his surprise. Tyson continued, "The Jellyfish ship and the red matter are gone. I''ve done everything I could to minimize your and Nero''s impact on this timeline." He paused, allowing the information to sink in. "All that''s left is to leave."


    Spock stood silent for a moment. Finally, he nodded. "Agreed," he said, stepping forward towards the portal.


    As Spock crossed the threshold onto the Narada''s bridge, he turned back to face the outpost. Montgomery Scott and Keenser stood there, their expressions a mix of awe and confusion at the sight before them.


    "Live long and prosper," Spock intoned, raising his hand in the traditional Vulcan salute.


    Scott raised his hand awkwardly to mimic the salute while Keenser simply blinked his large eyes and waved. The portal shimmered and closed, leaving the two Starfleet officers to ponder the strange events they had just witnessed.


    On the bridge of the Narada, Tyson and Spock turned their attention to the main viewscreen. The vast expanse of space stretched before them, the red planet Vulcan dominating the view. In the distance, they could see the Enterprise beyond the wreckage of the battle that was slowly being pulled into the black hole.


    "They''re about to eject their warp core," Tyson explained, analyzing the data from the Narada''s advanced sensors as he brought up a tactical display. "They''re going to detonate it to close the singularity."


    Spock''s eyes fixed on the screen. "A logical solution," he murmured, a hint of pride and nostalgia in his voice for his counterparts'' thinking.


    They watched silently as a small, bright object separated from the Enterprise, hurtling towards the swirling vortex of the black hole that threatened Vulcan. Seconds ticked by.


    Suddenly, a blinding flash of light erupted on the screen. The detonation of the warp core sent out a massive shockwave rippling through space. As the light faded, they could see the singularity had closed in on itself, ending the threat to Vulcan.


    "It worked," Tyson breathed.


    Spock''s expression remained neutral, but his eyes showed a glimmer of satisfaction. "Indeed," he replied. "The Enterprise crew has performed admirably."


    Tyson turned to the Narada''s console as the last vestiges of the singularity disappeared. "It''s Time for us to make our exit," he said, his fingers hovering over the transwarp drive controls. Are you ready?"


    Spock took one last look at the viewscreen, at the Vulcan that had nearly been lost. "I am prepared," he said softly.


    Tyson engaged the transwarp drive. The stars on the viewscreen began to stretch into long, brilliant streaks of light as the Narada left the Vulcan system far behind.


    As they hurtled through transwarp, Tyson turned to Spock. "Vulcan is safe. Your younger self and the crew of the Enterprise will continue on their path after some repairs and a new warp core."


    Spock was silent for a long moment, his gaze fixed on the streaking stars. "The needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few," he said, "Or the one. My place is not in this timeline. The logical course of action is to return to my reality. If that is impossible, I will go into exile, allowing events here to progress without my interference."


    "I''m afraid I can''t bring you back to your reality," Tyson began gently. "I come from a similar timeline, but from 2364. But you don''t have to go into exile. I have access to a pocket dimension you can remain within if you''re concerned about contaminating the timeline." Spock''s eyebrow arched slightly. Tyson continued, "It''ll be a long time, but once we catch up to the moment you left, you can return. It''ll be like you hadn''t left, completing the time loop."


    When Spock spoke, his voice carried the weight of his years. "I appreciate your consideration, but I doubt I''ll live to see that day. I don''t think I have twenty years." He paused, his gaze drifting to the viewscreen. "I shall be content to live out the rest of my days, knowing I did what I could to prevent the disaster and that we successfully saved Vulcan from destruction in the timeline my presence altered."


    Tyson frowned. There had to be an option to help Spock. He couldn''t bear the thought of this legendary figure spending his final years in isolation.


    He pulled up his system menu. There was an area with Ship Sections. These were primarily options that could be added to ships, but they could also optionally be added to the Personal Reality. One would solve his issues.


    [200 SP] Cryo-Chambers (Spaceships)


    Countless chambers allow you to place everyone on the ship in suspended animation that prevents the affected from aging, allowing them to reach faraway systems even at sub-light speeds.


    Ship Points: 2375


    Tyson confirmed the purchase of the Cryo-Chambers, relieved that it cost Ship Points instead of Reality Points, allowing him to afford the upgrade. A soft chime signaled the completion of the transaction, and he felt a subtle shift in the fabric of his Personal Reality as the new addition materialized.


    "Spock," Tyson said, turning to the elder Vulcan, "I believe I have a solution that might interest you."


    Spock raised an eyebrow, his curiosity piqued. "Indeed?"


    "Follow me," he said as he gestured.


    They made their way through a portal into Tyson''s Personal Reality. As they walked, Tyson explained the concept of the Cryo-Chambers to Spock. They rounded a corner, and before them, a door slid open with a soft hiss, revealing a large, circular room. The walls were lined with dozens of cylindrical pods, each glowing with a soft, blue light. In the center of the room stood a control console, its displays flickering with readouts.


    Spock stepped into the room and approached one of the pods. Tyson walked to the center console and brought up the specifications on the main display. "These Cryo-Pods are designed to keep you in suspended animation," he explained. You won''t age while you''re inside. We can set it to wake you when we reach the point in time where you left your original timeline."


    Spock turned to face Tyson with a thoughtful expression. "And you believe this will allow me to complete the time loop without further altering the timeline?"


    "That''s the idea. You''ll be able to rest, knowing that Vulcan is safe in the alternate timeline, and when you wake, you can continue with on with no discernible absence."


    The elder Vulcan was silent for a long moment, his gaze moving from the pods to Tyson and back again. "Your solution is both logical and considerate, Tyson. I find myself grateful for your efforts on my behalf."


    Tyson smiled warmly. "It''s the least I could do, Spock. You are somewhat of a legend where I come from."


    "Then I accept your offer. I shall enter the Cryo-Pod and await the completion of our journey."


    Tyson led Spock to one of the pods, explaining the process as they walked. "The pod will induce a suspended animation almost instantly," he said. "You won''t feel the passage of time. The pod will bring you out of stasis when it''s time to wake you."


    They reached an open pod, its interior bathed in a soft, welcoming light. Spock turned to face Tyson, raising his hand in the traditional Vulcan salute. "Live long and prosper Tyson," he said, his voice filled with genuine warmth. "I look forward to seeing what the future holds when I awaken."


    Tyson returned the salute, his fingers forming the familiar V shape. "Peace and long life, Spock," he replied. "Rest well, and know that your actions have made a difference."


    Spock nodded, then turned and stepped into the pod. He lay back, his body relaxing as the pod''s systems began to engage. The transparent cover slid closed with a soft hiss, and Tyson watched as a faint mist filled the interior.


    Spock''s eyes met Tyson''s one last time. Then, slowly, they closed as the Cryo-Pod''s stasis field took effect.


    Tyson stood there for a long moment, watching Spock''s vital signs stabilize on the pod''s display. The elder Vulcan''s face looked peaceful, the lines of worry and age seeming to soften in the pod''s gentle light.


    He walked to the central console, double-checking the settings and ensuring everything was functioning perfectly. Satisfied, he looked around the room, his gaze lingering on Spock''s pod.


    "Computer," he said, his voice echoing slightly in the quiet room, "wake Ambassador Spock when we reach the year 2387 in the base timeline."


    The computer chimed in acknowledgment. "Ambassador Spock will be awoken in 2387."


    Tyson felt a sense of accomplishment wash over him. He had done right by Spock, giving the legendary Vulcan a chance to rest and to see the future he had helped shape.


    The door slid shut behind him as he left, leaving Spock to his well-earned rest.


    As Tyson exited the Cryo-Chambers, a soft golden glow caught his eye. He turned to a door in the Personal Reality''s antechamber that hadn''t been there before. The door''s frame seemed to shimmer like sunlight on water. He approached, his hand reaching out to grasp the ornate handle. With a gentle push, the door swung open. Tyson stepped into a bar, the air thick with the scent of alcohol and the sound of lively conversation¡­


    The bar where a young James T. Kirk had first met Captain Pike in the alternate timeline.


    Tyson''s eyes swept across the room, taking in the diverse crowd. Starfleet cadets in their red uniforms mingled with civilians, their laughter and chatter creating a lively backdrop. In one corner, a group of aliens huddled around a table, engrossed in what appeared to be an intense game of three-dimensional chess. The bar itself was a long, curved structure. Behind it were rows of bottles containing liquors from various worlds. Human and alien bartenders moved, mixing drinks and bantering with customers. As he approached the bar, he was drawn to a figure that matched the ambiance but was easily recognizable.


    Sitting at the bar, looking as nonchalant as ever, was Q. The omnipotent being, dressed in this era''s Starfleet captain''s uniform, swirled a glass of vibrant blue alcohol. The bottle labeled it as Romulan ale, ironic given the enemies Tyson had just defeated.


    Q''s eyes met Tyson''s, and he raised his glass in a mock salute. "Ah, the man of the hour," Q called out, his voice carrying over the din of the bar. "Come, sit. I believe we have much to discuss."


    Tyson made his way to the empty stool next to Q. As he sat down, a bartender placed a glass in front of him without a word.


    "Saurian Brandy meant to be sipped. Enjoy it. It''s illegal in this timeline, after all," Q remarked, sipping his ale. "I see you''ve been busy. You chose a new Origin, yet somehow played the Space Pirate role anyway. And, hosting a legendary Vulcan. You''ve certainly been making the most of your gifts."


    Tyson picked up his glass, studying the amber liquid within. "I''m just trying to do what''s right," he replied, "Making a difference where I can."


    Q leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "But tell me, have you considered the consequences of your actions? The ripples that spread out from each choice you make?"


    Tyson frowned, turning to face Q fully. The bar around them seemed to fade into the background, the noise dimming as if they were in their private bubble. "What do you mean?" he asked, a note of concern creeping into his voice.


    "Every action has a reaction, my dear boy. No matter how small, every change you make can have far-reaching consequences. You''ve saved Vulcan. But have you considered what that means for the development of this universe? The challenges that shaped this Kirk and this Spock have never come to pass here. You rescued Pike before being critically injured, so he''ll remain Captain of the Enterprise. The trauma of losing his family and home planet didn''t drive Spock and Uhura together."


    Tyson hadn''t considered that. In his rush to prevent a tragedy, had he inadvertently altered the course of history in ways he couldn''t foresee?


    Q continued, his voice taking on a lecturing tone. "And what of the Narada? A ship from the future, bristling with technology centuries ahead of this time and decades ahead of Picard''s. What do you plan to do with it?"


    Tyson opened his mouth to respond, but Q held up a hand, silencing him. "Wait, wait, don''t tell me. I enjoy the mystery," Q said, his tone softening slightly.


    Tyson took a long drink from his glass, letting the brandy burn down his throat. "What would you have me do, Q? Stand by and watch as billions die? Let tragedies unfold when I have the power to prevent them?"


    Q''s lips curled into a smile. "Oh, I wouldn''t presume to tell you what to do. That''s the beauty of free will, after all. I''m merely... advising caution. The universe is a delicate tapestry. Pull on one thread, and you might unravel more than you intended." Tyson nodded slowly. He looked around the bar at the carefree patrons going about their evening, blissfully unaware of the weighty conversation in their midst. Q raised his glass. "To responsibility," he said solemnly and yet somehow slightly mocking. "May you bear it well."


    Tyson hesitated for a moment, then clinked his glass against Q''s. As he did, a message flashed across his HUD.


    Episode: Abrams Star Trek Complete!


    +1000 RP


    Reality Points: 1100


    Tyson''s eyes widened. "Holy shit," he muttered.


    "That''s quite the reaction," Q said, his voice tinged with amusement. "Care to share with the class?"


    Tyson blinked, still processing the enormity of the reward. "It''s... so much," he stammered, struggling to find the words. "Why? I mean, it''s more than I got for saving Taris."


    Q leaned back on his barstool, swirling the Romulan ale in his glass. "Movies are worth more," he said.


    A laugh bubbled up from Tyson''s chest at the absurdity of it all. Saving planets, altering timelines, and being rewarded based on cinematic value.


    "You wrapped everything up rather nicely," he continued, gesturing with his glass. "You decommissioned the red matter ship, claimed the Narada, and removed everyone not native to the timeline." He paused, letting the words sink in. "Limited as your powers are, I deem it a flawless run, my boy. Good job."


    The praise from Q felt significant. He opened his mouth to respond, but Q held up a hand and cut him off.


    "But," Q continued, his tone sharpening slightly, "you did have many advantages and foreknowledge on your side. So don''t get cocky. It was a fun romp, but I think I''ll add more Drawbacks next time to make it more interesting."


    "You''re right," Tyson said, acknowledging the truth in Q''s words. "I had a lot working in my favor this time. Movies are so much easier to remember than filler episodes."


    "Tell me, what do you plan to do with your newfound wealth? A thousand Reality Points is no small sum."


    "I''m not sure yet," he admitted, meeting Q''s gaze. "The biggest hurdle I need to address is the Narada. It''s still too big for my portals or my Personal Reality. I will have to spend most of my windfall on accommodating it. But I want to use the points wisely to prepare for whatever comes next."


    Q nodded approvingly. "A prudent approach," he said, raising his glass in a mock toast. "But don''t let caution paralyze you. The universe rarely waits for those who hesitate."


    Tyson nodded, taking another sip of his Saurian brandy. The liquid burned as it went down, grounding him in the moment. "I''ll keep that in mind," he said. "But I have to ask. Why are you doing this, Q? What''s your stake in this?"


    "My dear boy, who says I have a stake at all? Perhaps I enjoy watching the show." He leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "Or perhaps I''m playing a longer game than you can imagine."


    Q leaned back, his demeanor shifting once again to casual nonchalance. "But enough about me," he said, waving a hand dismissively. "Let''s talk about you. You''ve had quite the adventure in this timeline. What did you think of young Kirk and Spock? Quite the dynamic duo, aren''t they?"


    "I didn''t spend enough time with them to get a good read on them," his mind wandered to the elder Spock, now resting in cryostasis within his Personal Reality. "But it''s humbling," he admitted. To see where they start, knowing where they''ll end up, makes you wonder about your path." He finished the last of his brandy. The warmth of the alcohol spread through him, a pleasant counterpoint to the weighty conversation. "Thank you, Q. For the reward and the advice."


    Q waved a hand dismissively, but his eyes showed a hint of genuine warmth. "Oh, don''t thank me yet," he said. "Your journey is far from over. I''d say it''s only just beginning. We''re still only in Season 2."


    Tyson mentally cataloged what he remembered about TNG''s first season. He responded, "What are you talking about? I''m pretty sure we''re still in Season 1. Haven''t seen the Ferengi yet, and doesn''t the season end with the Romulans?"


    "Romulans, Ferengi." Q snorted. "Maybe next season." He raised his glass one last time, his form beginning to blur at the edges. "Until next time, Tyson," he said, his voice echoing strangely in the dissolving space. "Remember, with great power comes great... entertainment value."


    As if on cue, the bar around them began to shimmer and fade, the sounds of conversation and clinking glasses growing distant. Tyson felt the sensation of reality shifting around him as he was ejected from the Benefactor''s Lounge.


    ¡ª Star Jumper ¡ª


    Tyson brought the Narada out of transwarp into an empty system. He had to make purchases to allow the ship to leave this reality. Q had already rewarded him for cleaning up the timeline nicely, now he needed to follow through by removing the ship. The problem was its size. The Narada was somewhere in the ballpark of 9 kilometers long. One more purchase of Portal Aperture would allow him to make portals large enough to move the ship. The problem was that his Personal Reality wasn''t large enough for the ship. He had two options for storing the vessel, both totaling 500 RP. The first was the Garage of the Gods Upgrade with the Big Garage expansion. The second was the Personal Mini-Reality.


    [200 SP] Garage of the Gods (Personal Reality)


    A garage for you to place your vehicles into, automatically adjusting to meet their requirements. Any sort of land, air, or space-based personal vehicles (up to 12 meters long, 6 meters wide, and 4 meters tall). The Garage has berths for up to 40 such vehicles, with every purchase of Additional Space also increasing the number of berths by a factor of 5. The Garage comes with its own Vehicular Entry Hall (VEH) free of charge and a set of six adaptors that can turn garage doors (even non-automatic ones) into Personal Reality Portals.


    [300 SP] Big Garage (Personal Reality)


    Have some vehicles that don''t exactly fit in the Garage? The Big Garage can handle it. You start with four dry docks, each large enough to house, well, anything. Each Additional Space purchase doubles the number of dry docks.


    [500 SP] Personal Mini-Reality (Personal Reality)


    You gain a copy of your home solar system (out to the Oort Cloud). It does not come with any intelligent life or "man-made" structures.


    Tyson stood on the bridge of the Narada, his gaze fixed on the vast emptiness of space beyond the viewscreen. The massive Romulan vessel hung motionless in the void, its tentacle-like appendages stretching out into the darkness. He paced the length of the bridge, thinking. 500 Reality Points was a significant investment, no matter which way he chose to spend it.


    "Garage of the Gods or Personal Mini-Reality," he muttered to himself, weighing the pros and cons of each option.


    The Garage of the Gods, with its Big Garage expansion, offered a straightforward solution. Four massive dry docks, each capable of housing a ship of any size. The idea of having a dedicated space for his growing fleet was tempting. But, there were only four spaces, and increasing the dry docks required more purchases.


    Tyson paused in his pacing, leaning against a console as he considered the advantages. The Garage came with a Vehicular Entry Hall and adaptors that could turn ordinary doors into Personal Reality Portals. It was a neat, contained solution that would keep his ships separate and easily accessible.


    But then there was the Personal Mini-Reality. An entire solar system would be at his disposal. The sheer scale of it was almost overwhelming. With that much space, he could house the Narada and entire fleets if he wanted to. The Garage would be more organized and structured, and each ship would be neatly arranged and maintained in its dock. However, Mini-Reality offered freedom and the chance to create a base of operations hidden within a replica of his home solar system.


    "The Garage does have some advantages," Tyson mused aloud, circling the holograms. "It''s more focused, more specialized for vehicle storage."


    "With the Mini-Reality, there would be enough space to leave ships anywhere," Tyson said, "I could build bases on the planets, set up shipyards in orbit, create an entire infrastructure."


    He pulled up the details for the Garage again. Like some of the Personal Reality facilities, it had improvement options. The Fueling Station Upgrade caught his attention. Regardless of the source, it provided fuel to any vehicle. Deuterium, Dilithium, antimatter, whatever. And at only 50 Reality Points, it seemed like a bargain.


    "But is it worth the trade-off?" Tyson asked himself.


    However, the Mini-Reality offered so much more than just storage. It was an entire solar system to shape as he saw fit. He thought about the Narada, the Automated Repair Facility, and other ships he might acquire in the future. In the Mini-Reality, he could house any number of them.


    The more Tyson considered it, the more the Mini-Reality seemed like the right choice. It wasn''t just about storage; it was about potential.


    He purchased the Personal Mini-Reality and one more upgrade to Portal Aperature, increasing its maximum area to 8 million square meters.


    Reality Points: 500


    He''d spent over half the points he earned from the episode in one swoop, but it was worth it. Now, he had an entire solar system at his disposal, and he could bring the Naradra inside.


    <hr>


    Tyson


    Origins: Human, Humanoid, Drop-In, Space Pirate, Bad Guy, Officer


    Race: Augment Human-Betazoid (Hybrid)


    Character Points: 1200, [250 KOTOR (Vicky)]


    Reality Points: 500


    Ship Points: 2375


    Credits: 116,450


    Status Effects: (none)


    Drawbacks:


    Gauntlet (Locked)


    Ensign Marty Stu


    A Simple Re''Q''uest


    Hybrid (Betazoid)


    Amok Time/Blood Fever


    Outlawed


    Mary Sue


    Perks:


    Cosmic Awareness


    Out of Nowhere


    Going Native


    Live and Let Live


    This is (Not?) Rocket Science


    Kinda Bland


    Determinator


    Painted On


    Snakeskin


    Adaptable


    Duelist


    Master with your Hands


    Best of the Best


    Everything Is A Weapon


    Augment


    Force Specialization: Intelligence


    Tactical Info


    Sever Force


    Specialty: Operations; Sub-Specialties (Communications, Engineering, Piloting)


    Items:


    Laser Blade


    Spacesuit


    Agony Booth


    Cloaking Minefield


    Lightsaber


    Gray Goo Suit


    Transwarp Beam Equation


    Companions:


    (Vicky) V-KO IV Nursedroid: Access Key, Artificial Intelligence Upgrade, Gray Goo Upgrade, Master With Your Hands, Light Weapon, Jumper''s Master Key, Scaling Cloak, Origin:Jedi, Force Specialization: Intelligence, Enhanced Mind, Lightsaber, Armored Robes, Battle Meditation


    T''Pol: Access Key


    Personal Reality:


    Access Key (Additional Keys, Key Link)


    Security System


    High-Security Inter-Reality Connecting Door (Star Trek Enterprise, Star Wars Knights of the Old Republic)


    Medical Bay (The Nano-Medical Lab, The Bio-Synthesis Lab, Microbiome Replacement Lab)


    Housing Complex (Basic Nutrition, Choice Apartments, Who''s Got the Powa, Pipes Pipes Pipes)


    Playing With Portals (Portal Link, Portal Control Rod, Free Portal, Portal Aperature x4)


    The Mystical Menagerie


    Ship Sections (Cryo-Chambers)


    Personal Mini-Reality


    Spaceships:


    Tramp Freighter (Destroyed - Respawn on 02/28/2365)


    Sith Interceptor (Bridge Upgrade)


    Automated Repair Station (Ship Size Rating: IV, Station, Bridge, Space Hulk, Artificial Gravity, Cryo-Chambers, Auto-Repair System, Synapses, Distributed, Automated Ship, Analytic Suite, Docking Port, Transporter Room, Matter Printer, Negentropy Reactor, Deflector Shields, Clarketech Module, Production Lines, Hangar, Cargo Bay, Living Quarters)


    Narada (Ship Size Rating: IV, Artificial Gravity, Alcubierre Drive, Auto-Repair System, Exotic Materials (Nanomaterials), Cargo Bay, Hangar, Hyperdrive (Transwarp), Antimatter Reactor, Navigation Suite, Analytic Suite, Deflector Shields, Missiles, Cyber Warfare Suite (Mining Drill)

 Season 2: Episode 20 - Haven

    Episode 20 - Haven


    Stardate: 41294


    Earth Standard Date: April 17, 2364.


    Location: USS Enterprise-D, Beta Cassius System.


    Tyson stepped into the Deck One observation lounge, where Captain Picard was waiting at the head of the table. Two unfamiliar men sat afront the expansive view of stars. They wore matching outfits, but it wasn''t a standard Starfleet uniform.


    Picard cleared his throat. "Ensign Tyson, allow me to introduce Agents Dulmur and Lucsly from the Department of Temporal Investigations." The two men nodded curtly, their eyes fixed on Tyson with an intensity that made him feel like a specimen under a microscope. "Please have a seat," Picard said, gesturing to the conference table. As he settled into his chair, Picard continued, "Ensign, due to the events you described to me during the Kosinski incident, I was required to inform Starfleet of possible changes to the timeline. These gentlemen are here to investigate the matter further."


    Agent Dulmur, the older of the two, leaned forward, his fingers steepled on the table. "Ensign, we''d like you to tell us your story. From the beginning, if you please. And don''t leave out any details, no matter how insignificant they seem."


    Tyson nodded, though he intended no such thing. He glanced at Picard, who inclined his head encouragingly. "Well, it all started when I was in Main Engineering. Mr. Kosinski arrived..." As Tyson recounted the events, he watched the investigators'' reactions carefully. Lucsly''s eyebrows furrowed deeper with each passing moment, while Dulmur''s face remained impassive, save for the occasional twitch of his lip. "...and then Q appeared," Tyson continued, "He said that I was being boring, and suddenly, I found myself on Delta Vega."


    "Delta Vega?" Lucsly interrupted. "The ice planet in the Vulcan system?"


    "Yes, but it wasn''t our Delta Vega. It was different, in the past."


    Dulmur and Lucsly exchanged a loaded glance. "Continue," Dulmur said, his voice carefully neutral.


    Tyson described his encounters on Delta Vega. He spoke of the Hengrauggi, meeting Ambassador Spock from their future, and their journey to the Starfleet outpost. When he mentioned using portals to capture the creatures, Lucsly''s pen paused mid-scribble.


    "Portals?" he asked skeptically. "What exactly do you mean by that?"


    "It''s an ability I have. I can create portals to transport objects or beings from one place to another."


    The investigators'' expressions darkened. "And where, exactly, did you acquire this ability?"


    "It''s connected to my encounters with Q..."


    Lucsly''s pen scratched furiously across his notepad. "Please continue, Ensign."


    As Tyson delved deeper into his story, describing his journey to the Enterprise and his role in disabling the Narada''s drill, he could feel the tension rising in the room. The investigators'' questions became more pointed and accusatory.


    "So, let me get this straight. You not only interfered with the ongoing events in that past timeline but played a massive role in their outcome?" Lucsly interjected, "Your actions could have catastrophic consequences for the timeline."


    Tyson held up his finger. "Let me explain and provide some further context." He looked at Captain Picard and said, "Please note that I have omitted the details regarding the events that led to Ambassador Spock''s temporal displacement because they involved Captain Picard." He let that sink in for a beat, then continued, "The Romulan vessel, when it arrived in the past, attacked and destroyed the USS Kelvin. Captain Kirk''s father took command of the ship beforehand and went down with it."


    Dulmur leaned back in his chair, his eyes narrowing. "So you''re trying to make the case the timeline was already compromised before your intervention?"


    "Significantly so," Tyson confirmed. "The presence of the Romulan ship was a destabilizing factor, and Ambassador Spock was... a temporal contaminant." He winced slightly. "Excuse the term. I don''t know how you refer to things that don''t belong."


    Lucsly''s pen paused mid-scribble. "We typically use the term ''temporal anomaly'' or ''chronal displacement,'' but please continue."


    "I did my best to restore the timeline to where it should have been. Montgomery Scott was not aboard the Enterprise, so I subtly pointed them in his direction."


    Picard raised an eyebrow. "And how exactly did you accomplish this, Ensign?"


    "I encountered Mr. Scott within the outpost on Delta Vega. It was quite the coincidence," Tyson explained. "When I arrived on the Enterprise, I mentioned that he provided the transwarp beaming equation, which allowed me to teleport onto the vessel while it was at warp. The senior officers immediately recognized the impossibility of such a feat but had no other explanation for my arrival. I''m sure they''ll investigate it."


    Picard asked, "Mr. Tyson, are you aware that Transwarp Beaming, as you''ve described, is beyond our current technology?"


    "Yes, Captain. I understand that it''s not something we currently possess. However, the technology on display surpassed what we have here somehow. The Enterprise there was capable of transwarp. I believe that the Romulan presence in the past caused the available technology to advance more rapidly than it did here."


    Picard held up a hand. "Let''s stay focused on the facts. Mr. Tyson, please continue with your account."


    "After disabling the drill, I used my abilities to infiltrate the Narada. I confronted the Romulan captain and his crew. They had a substance that they intended to use to create a singularity at the center of Vulcan. It explained why they were drilling into the planet."


    The room fell silent. Even Picard seemed taken aback by this revelation.


    "You confronted the captain and his crew? Alone?" Dulmur asked, disbelieving.


    "Yes. I knew the threat he posed, not just to Vulcan but to the entire Federation. Vulcan was his first target, but he would''ve attacked Earth next. I couldn''t stand by and let him destroy the entire planet."


    Lucsly''s pen scratched furiously across his notepad. "And what exactly did you do during this confrontation?"


    Tyson hesitated, glancing at Picard. The captain''s face remained impassive, but there was a glimmer of concern.


    "I neutralized him and his crew," Tyson said carefully. "I then freed Captain Pike, who had been taken hostage."


    "Neutralized?" Dulmer asked, "Could you be more specific, Ensign?"


    "I used lethal force on the captain. A phaser set to kill. The rest of the crew refused to surrender, and after taking control of the ship, I reduced life support functions. All Romulans died."


    The room fell silent once more. Picard''s expression darkened while the temporal agents exchanged worried glances.


    "Mr. Tyson," Picard said, "you do realize the gravity of what you''re telling us? You''ve admitted to not only interfering with events but also to taking many lives."


    Tyson nodded solemnly. "I do, Captain. I understand the weight of my actions. But I also knew the consequences if I did nothing. Billions of lives were at stake on Vulcan, and the effects of the Romulan''s presence on that timeline was immeasurable."


    Lucsly shook his head. "That''s not how this works, Ensign. We don''t get to play judge, jury, and executioner across timelines. The potential ripple effects of your actions are incalculable."


    "I agree," Dulmur added. "What you''ve done goes far beyond simple temporal interference."


    Tyson''s eyes moved from Picard to the agents. "I understand your concerns. But what was the alternative? Allowing them to destroy Vulcan?" Tyson looked at Picard and asked directly, "If you and the Enterprise had been in my position, knowing what they''d done mettling with the timeline, would you not have done everything possible to destroy the Romulan vessel and retrieve Ambassador Spock?"


    Picard''s expression remained neutral, but his eyes betrayed a flicker of understanding. He responded, "Yes, we would have engaged the Romulans and attempted to retrieve the Ambassador."


    Tyson held his hand up, gesturing at Picard and pressed on, turning back to the agents. "My actions, while cold, had the same outcome. I did what I could to stabilize the timeline and remove their presence. Their ship is gone, their crew is gone, everyone not from that timeline has been removed from that reality, myself included, and I can no longer access it. Spock, Kirk, Scott, the rest of the Enterprise senior staff, and the ship survived."


    Dulmur''s brow furrowed deeply. "That''s not the point, Ensign. The issue here is the unauthorized and unilateral action you took. You made decisions that could have far-reaching consequences without any oversight or approval."


    Lucsly nodded in agreement. "Temporal Prime Directive exists for a reason. We can''t just alter timelines, even with the best intentions."


    Tyson''s jaw tightened. "Who should I have sought for oversight? I couldn''t contact this Federation to help because Q cut me off. All I had was my abilities. I did my best to clean up a mess I didn''t cause."


    "While I understand your intentions were good, you must realize the gravity of your actions. You''ve admitted to taking lives and altering events in a timeline, not our own. That''s not a decision any one person should make alone."


    "At that moment, faced with the imminent destruction of an entire planet and the potential destabilization of the entire quadrant, I had to act. I couldn''t stand by and watch billions die. I didn''t have a flagship or Starfleet''s best crew at my command like you would have. I know you don''t approve of my methods, but I tried diplomacy, and when that failed, I tried coercion. The Romulans left me with few options."


    Dulmur sighed heavily. "Your heart may have been in the right place, Ensign, but that doesn''t excuse the violation of temporal protocols. We have these rules in place to prevent this kind of situation."


    "First off, as you said, I''m only an Ensign. No one explained the temporal protocols to me. How can I follow the rules of the game if I wasn''t told what they are." Tyson straightened in his chair. "And with all due respect, agents, the timeline was altered by the Romulans'' presence, not mine. Their ship, technology, and very existence in that timeline was a massive temporal contamination. I removed that contamination."


    Picard raised an eyebrow. "And you''re certain you''ve removed all traces of the Romulans?"


    Tyson hesitated for a moment in thought. "As certain as I can be, sir. I ensured that all technology and individuals from the future were removed. One event I may have changed was Captain Pike. Historical records reveal he was confined to an assistive locomotion device. When I saved him, the Romulans had him strapped down, but I interrupted whatever procedure they had planned. He was healthy last I saw. The only other remnants left behind are the memories of those who encountered us and the subtle nudge towards Mr. Scott''s discovery of transwarp beaming."


    Dulmur and Lucsly exchanged glances. Lucsly spoke, frustrated, "That ''subtle nudge'' could have massive implications. You''ve potentially accelerated their technological development by decades."


    "They were already ahead of us in many aspects. But, technically, I didn''t," Tyson countered, "Ambassador Spock was the one that gave Mr. Scott what he needed to complete the transwarp beaming equation. You can take it up with him in about¡­ 23 years."


    "You said you removed the chronally displaced vessel and Ambassador. That still doesn''t explain what happened to the Romulan vessel and this... future Ambassador Spock. Where are they now?"


    "They''re both within a pocket reality that I can access with my portals. Ambassador Spock is in a form of cryogenic stasis."


    The room fell silent for a moment as the investigators processed this information. Lucsly was the first to speak. "A pocket reality? Are you saying you have access to an entirely separate dimension?"


    "Yes," Tyson clarified. "It''s not accessible to anyone else, and it doesn''t interact or intersect with our reality in any way besides my ability to access it."


    "What exactly do you intend to do with Ambassador Spock and this Romulan vessel?" Dulmer asked.


    "The plan we discussed was to wake Ambassador Spock in the year when he was temporally displaced," Tyson explained. "That way, he might resume his place in time from after the point when he left, completing the time loop in 2387."


    Lucsly''s pen scratched furiously across his notepad. "And the Romulan vessel?"


    Tyson hesitated for a moment. "The Romulan vessel remains safely contained within the pocket reality."


    Picard leaned forward, his expression grave. "You''ve essentially taken it upon yourself to safeguard future technology and individuals. Are you aware noone has even seen a Romulan in over 50 years?"


    "Yes sir, and I do understand," Tyson replied, "I assure you, my intentions have only been to prevent further damage."


    The agents exchanged a long, meaningful look, their expressions a mix of concern and grudging acceptance. Finally, Dulmur cleared his throat and turned to face Tyson.


    "Ensign Tyson," he began, "while your actions constitute a significant temporal interference, we must acknowledge the unique circumstances you found yourself in."


    Lucsly nodded in agreement. "Indeed. Given the situation you described, with no access to Starfleet resources or guidance, your response seems... appropriate, if unorthodox."


    Tyson blinked, surprised by this turn in the conversation. He glanced at Captain Picard, whose expression remained neutral, but there was a hint of relief in his eyes.


    Dulmur continued, "We''ve dealt with numerous temporal incursions over the years, Ensign. Many were caused by well-meaning individuals who lacked the proper training or understanding of temporal mechanics. Your case, however, is unique."


    "You are from an alternate timeline yourself and were thrust into yet another alternate timeline without warning," Lucsly added, "and faced with a threat of planetary destruction. Your actions, while extreme, were aimed at preserving life and restoring temporal balance."


    Picard leaned forward, his brow furrowed. "Are you saying, gentlemen, that you find no fault in Ensign Tyson''s actions?"


    Dulmur held up a hand. "Not exactly, Captain. We still have concerns about the potential long-term effects of his interference. However, given the circumstances and the care he took to minimize his impact, we don''t believe punitive action is warranted in this case. Best we can determine, the timeline Ensign Tyson described was not a past version of our own, but the Romulan''s intervention caused it to split off entirely. Any actions and events that occurred did not affect ''us''. Since the events that caused its split happened prior to his arrival, he is not at fault. We are particularly worried about this pocket reality he has access to. However, the issue of the pocket reality is not within the purview of our department."


    Lucsly closed his notepad with a snap. "Therefore, Ensign Tyson, we''ve decided that no formal punishment will be levied against you for these actions. However," he added, his tone growing stern, "we must emphasize the importance of avoiding further temporal entanglements whenever possible."


    "Absolutely," Tyson nodded. "I have no desire to meddle with time more than necessary."


    "This brings us to another matter of concern, Ensign. We''ve received information that you can bring people from other timelines into our own. Particularly, there''s been a request regarding T''Pol, a figure from early Starfleet who was important in the founding of the Federation."


    Lucsly nodded, adding, "Knowing what you do now about our policies, what justification do you have for wanting to bring her to this time?"


    He could feel the weight of their gazes upon him, along with Captain Picard''s intense scrutiny. This was a delicate matter, one that required careful explanation.


    "The T''Pol that I encountered was meant to die in her timeline," Tyson began, "She was abandoned on a mission that should have ensured her death, but I prevented it. By that logic, she doesn''t belong in her timeline anymore. I was the chronal disturbance in that case." The agents exchanged glances. "Her impact here would be unknown," Tyson continued. "Perhaps she was meant to be here all along. We can''t know without knowing the future. But since she should have died and I prevented it, she no longer belongs in her original timeline."


    Dulmur''s brow furrowed. "That''s a rather convenient interpretation, Ensign. How can you be certain that her death wasn''t a fixed point in time?"


    "If her death was a fixed point, would I have been able to prevent it? The fact that I could intervene suggests some flexibility."


    Lucsly tapped his pen against his notepad. "But bringing her here could have unforeseen consequences. She''s a historical figure, Ensign. Her presence in our time could alter the course of history."


    Tyson nodded, acknowledging the point. "You''re right, sir. But T''Pol is from the past, coming to our present. She doesn''t bring any knowledge or technology that isn''t antiquated by current Starfleet standards."


    "That may be true," Dulmur interjected, "but consider this. If she was meant to die in her timeline, but you prevented it. Have you not brought that timeline back into alignment with our own?"


    "That''s easy enough to check," Tyson responded confidently. He spoke clearly, "Computer, do we have access to the crew manifest and captain''s logs from the NX-01 Enterprise?"


    The room fell silent as they waited for the computer''s response. After a brief moment, the familiar voice of the ship''s computer filled the air. "Crew Manifest and Captain''s logs from the NX-01 Enterprise are available."


    "Check for any mention of an Ensign Tyson or Crewman Tyson."


    Moments later, the computer responded, "No records found in the crew manifest or captain''s logs."


    A collective breath seemed to be released in the room. Tyson straightened in his chair, his gaze moving between the temporal agents and Captain Picard.


    "I interacted with Captain Archer when I returned with T''Pol to the Enterprise," Tyson explained. "I went through decontamination. There would be some record of my existence if it was indeed our past." Dulmur and Lucsly exchanged meaningful looks, their earlier certainty seeming to waver slightly.


    Picard leaned forward, his brow furrowed in thought. "Mr. Tyson, you seem certain that the NX-01 Enterprise you encountered was from an alternate timeline?"


    Tyson nodded. "That''s exactly right, Captain. One of the other abilities I have, thanks to Q, is the ability to tell when something within time changes. If I did something to change our present, I would know. I''d be able to sense it. The lack of any record of my presence, despite my significant interactions with the crew, provides empirical evidence that the Enterprise I encountered was not from our direct past."


    Lucsly''s pen hovered over his notepad, his earlier fervor replaced by a look of contemplation. "If what you''re saying is true, Ensign, it would change the nature of our concerns regarding T''Pol''s presence here."


    Dulmur nodded slowly. "Indeed. If she''s from an alternate timeline, her presence here wouldn''t directly impact our own history."


    "Exactly," Tyson said, a note of relief in his voice. "And there''s also the alternate interpretation of what I''m proposing," Tyson leaned forward, his expression earnest. "By saving T''Pol from a death that was supposed to happen, I''ve already altered her timeline. Leaving her there could potentially cause more damage than bringing her here. Her continued presence in a timeline where she was meant to die could cause unforeseen ripples. By bringing her here, we''re containing the temporal disturbance I inadvertently created. Her knowledge and experiences, while valuable, wouldn''t pose the same risk of altering our timeline as we initially thought. Her presence here could be seen more as... cultural exchange between parallel universes, rather than temporal displacement."


    Picard raised an eyebrow. "That''s quite a leap, Mr. Tyson. But I must admit, the evidence you''ve presented is compelling."


    The temporal agents conferred quietly for a moment before Dulmur turned back to face Tyson. "While this doesn''t entirely absolve the concerns about temporal interference, it does significantly alter the context of T''Pol''s presence here. This is a grey area for the Department of Temporal Investigations. We''ll leave the final decision to Captain Picard, as it''s his ship."


    All eyes turned to Picard. He leaned back in his chair, steepling his fingers as he considered the situation. Having a historical figure from centuries past aboard the Enterprise was highly irregular¡­ or was it? Doctor Leonard McCoy had been on the Enterprise-D around the time of Tyson''s arrival. But if T''Pol''s presence here was meant to be, as Tyson argued, then perhaps more damage could be done by returning her to her own time.


    "If the Department of Temporal Investigations takes no issue with her presence, then I would be intrigued to have the Enterprise play host to your guest for a time," Picard said.


    "Thank you, Captain. I know she''ll prove an asset to the Enterprise, albeit in an unofficial capacity."


    Picard nodded. "Make the arrangements then. But she is your responsibility, Ensign. See to it that she adapts well."


    "Of course, sir."


    Picard stood, straightening his uniform. "Unless there''s anything else, gentlemen?"


    The agents shook their heads. Dulmur stood, straightening his uniform. "We appreciate your cooperation, Ensign. And your honesty in recounting these events. It''s clear you understand the gravity of your actions."


    Lucsly rose as well, extending a hand to Tyson. "Remember, Ensign, the timeline is more fragile than you think. Even small changes can have far-reaching consequences. We trust you''ll keep that in mind going forward."


    The temporal agents nodded in agreement and gathered their belongings. Dulmur tucked his PADD under his arm, while Lucsly pocketed his notepad and pen. Captain Picard stepped forward and extended his hand to each of the agents.


    "Gentlemen, thank you for your diligence in this matter," Picard said, his tone formal yet warm. "Your work in preserving the integrity of our timeline is invaluable."


    "Thank you, Captain," Dulmur replied, shaking Picard''s hand firmly. "We appreciate your cooperation and that of your crew."


    Tyson said, "If you''ll follow me, sirs, I''ll escort you to the transporter room so you may return to Haven.


    Crew members moved about their duties through the corridors of the Enterprise-D. Several curious glances were cast toward the temporal agents, their distinctive outfits marking them as visitors.


    As they approached the turbolift, a group of officers exited, including Commander Riker. The first officer nodded respectfully to the group.


    "Ensign," Riker acknowledged, then turned to the agents. "Gentlemen, I trust your investigation went smoothly?"


    "As smooth as temporal investigations ever go, Commander," Dulmur replied dryly.


    The group entered the turbolift, and Tyson said, "Deck 6."


    They entered the transporter room, where Chief O''Brien stood at the controls. He looked up as they entered, offering a polite nod.


    "All set for transport, sirs?" O''Brien asked.


    "Indeed we are, Chief," Dulmur replied. They stepped onto the transporter pad. As the agents prepared to leave, Lucsly addressed Tyson one last time. "Ensign, we can''t stress this enough. Please stay away from temporal matters whenever possible."


    "I''ll do my best to keep my adventures firmly in the present from now on."


    The transporter beam dematerialized the pair, leaving the pad empty once more. Tyson was glad the Department of Temporal Investigations agents had left the ship without incident.


    "Commander, requesting permission to beam to the surface. I''m going to investigate rumors of this planet''s innate healing properties and enjoy some shore leave. The Captain previously approved my request.¡± Riker nodded, granting his assent.


    Before anyone could speak further, the doors to the transporter room hissed ope,n and Counselor Deanna Troi strode in.


    O''Brien turned to greet her, but his words died as the transporter console chirped.


    "Incoming transport," he announced.


    A shimmering column of light heralded the arrival of another transport. As the beam coalesced, an ornate box materialized on the pad. Riker leaned forward, scrutinizing the unexpected delivery. "What is that?" he murmured.


    Suddenly, the visage of an eerie, elongated face carved into the box began to move, and a voice emanated from within.


    "Greetings," it intoned. "I hold a message for Deanna Troi." The animated face continued. "Lwaxana Troi and the honorable Miller family will soon arrive. The momentous day is close at hand. Rejoice."


    With its message delivered, the carved face froze once more. Riker turned to Troi. "What''s going on?" Before she could respond, the box sprang open with a snap and a hiss. Gems, coins, and other exotic items spilled across the transporter pad in a glittering shower. Troi paled, her dark eyes widening. He asked, "What is all this, Deanna?"


    The counselor swallowed hard. "They''re bonding gifts. What you would call wedding presents."


    Comprehension dawned on Riker, followed swiftly by disbelief. "Wedding presents? Who''s getting married?"


    Troi met his gaze solemnly. "I am."


    Tyson stepped onto the transporter pad. ¡°Congratulations, Counselor,¡± he said sincerely before signaling to Chief O''Brien that he was ready to beam down to the planet''s surface.


    The familiar tingle of the transporter beam enveloped him, and in a shimmer of sparkling light, Tyson materialized on the surface of Haven. The shimmering light of the transporter beam faded, leaving him standing amidst a lush alien landscape. Towering trees with silver bark and emerald leaves swayed overhead, filtering dappled sunlight onto the forest floor. Strange chirps and trills echoed around him, the calls of alien fauna hidden in the undergrowth.


    Tyson inhaled deeply, the crisp, clean air filling his lungs. With a thought, he opened a portal to his Personal Reality. T''Pol was there waiting for him, seated calmly on the couch inside his room within the Housing Complex. She stood and stepped through onto the surface of Haven, the portal sealing shut behind her.


    "Fascinating," T''Pol remarked, pulling out her tricorder, "I detect over three hundred distinct plant species within a one-kilometer radius."


    "All work and no play, huh T''Pol? We''re supposed to be on shore leave. Take a minute to enjoy the scenery."


    "Did we not just have ''shore leave'' on the last planet?" T''Pol asked with a raised eyebrow. "My purpose here is to accompany and assist you. I do not require more ''shore leave''."


    Chuckling, Tyson placed a hand on her shoulder. "Maybe not, but it''ll be good for you to relax a little."


    For a moment, T''Pol regarded him impassively. Then, her posture relaxed slightly. "Perhaps you are correct. I find this planet quite... aesthetically pleasing."


    "That''s the spirit!" Tyson said. "Now, let''s go explore. We can indulge your curiosity and grab something to eat. Then I want to find one of those hot springs this planet is famous for..."


    The breathtaking natural beauty of the landscape immediately captivated their attention. Lush greenery and exotic plants surrounded them while the soothing sound of a nearby waterfall tumbling over stone filled the air. It was a paradise in every sense of the word.


    Eager to explore, they emerged into Harmony Plaza. As they took their first steps onto Haven''s soil, the atmosphere enveloped them like a warm embrace. The sweetly scented air, filled with the fragrant perfume of alien blossoms, tickled their senses, and the soft babbling of fountains provided a soothing melody. Tyson and T''Pol gazed in awe at the scene before them. The plaza was a masterful blend of architecture and nature, where meticulously designed stone walkways meandered between verdant gardens overflowing with exotic flora and elegant hand-carved structures. Majestic trees stretched their knotted limbs overhead, emerald leaves dancing playfully in the gentle breeze. A massive tiered fountain carved from smooth grey stone spouted water in the plaza''s center.


    As they walked deeper into the lively plaza, T''Pol''s usual Vulcan stoicism seemed to soften ever so slightly in quiet appreciation of the serene beauty surrounding them, and Tyson couldn''t help but smile.


    Couples and families strolled contentedly along the winding paths, their gentle chatter adding to the plaza''s ambiance. Street vendors offered steaming mugs of fragrant tea and trays piled high with juicy exotic fruits Tyson had never seen before. Talented local artisans had set up stalls to display their intricate carvings, weavings, and stained glass sculptures.


    T''Pol pulled out her tricorder and scanned their surroundings as they moved through the plaza. "Haven''s unique botanical specimens may hold insights into the planet''s purported healing properties," she remarked in her usual logical tone. "I believe it would benefit us to analyze the flora thoroughly."


    She aimed the humming tricorder at a cluster of vibrant purple flowers. Their delicate petals were adorned with crystalline structures that sparkled like amethyst gems. The tricorder beeped as it collected data, and complex charts and graphs filled the display.


    "Fascinating. These flowers contain specialized bioluminescent proteins. Perhaps these compounds interact with something else in the environment to create healing effects."


    Tyson smiled at her enthusiasm, subtle as it was beneath her Vulcan composure. They explored the paths, T''Pol clutching the tricorder and examining each new specimen. A twisting tree with silvery leaves caught her attention. She scanned its bark and foliage. "Intriguing. It has a similar biochemical composition as the flowers," she noted.


    For two hours, they analyzed the exotic flora, discovering various unique plants with potential. The sun dipped low, bathing the city of Solacium in warm amber light. Vibrant flowering trees lined the streets. Elegant buildings embraced the landscape with sweeping organic architecture. As the sun began to set, painting the sky in vibrant hues of orange and pink, Tyson was drawn to a charming open-air restaurant at the edge of Harmony Plaza. The establishment, aptly named "Starlight Terrace," offered a breathtaking view of the city below and the star-studded sky above.


    "What do you say we grab some dinner?" Tyson suggested, gesturing towards the restaurant. "I don''t know about you, but all this exploring has worked up quite an appetite."


    "That would be agreeable. It appears to be a suitable location to observe local customs and cuisine."


    They approached the host, who greeted them warmly. "Welcome to Starlight Terrace. Table for two?"


    "Yes, please. Something with a view, if possible."


    The host led them to a secluded table on the terrace, which offered a panoramic view of Solacium and the surrounding landscape. As they settled into their seats, Tyson ordered a dish described as a medley of local vegetables in a pureed fruit sauce. T''Pol chose a soup made from native roots and herbs.


    As they waited for their meals, Tyson leaned back in his chair, taking in the view. "You know, T''Pol, I''m glad you decided to come along. I mean as my Companion, not just to Haven. It''s nice to have company on these adventures."


    T''Pol tilted her head slightly. "I find our excursions to be... enlightening. The opportunity to study new worlds and cultures is invaluable."


    "So you''re enjoying yourself?"


    Before T''Pol could respond, their waiter arrived with their meals. Tyson''s dish was a work of art, with the vegetables arranged in a spiral pattern. T''Pol''s soup steamed gently, releasing a fragrant aroma that she seemed to appreciate. Tyson noticed T''Pol''s subtle reactions to the flavors as they began to eat. Her eyebrows raised slightly with each spoonful, a clear sign of approval.


    "How''s the soup?" Tyson asked, taking a bite of his meal.


    "It is... most satisfactory," T''Pol replied. "The combination of flavors is both complex and harmonious. I detect notes of what might be analogous to Terran ginger and Vulcan plomeek."


    "High praise indeed. Want to try some of mine?"


    T''Pol hesitated, one eyebrow raising ever so slightly. Then, she gave a subtle nod. Tyson speared some of the colorful medley, ensuring none dripped, and extended his fork toward her.


    "What are you doing?" T''Pol asked, leaning back slightly. "I am capable of feeding myself."


    "Just giving you a taste," Tyson chuckled. "It''s something human couples sometimes do to be affectionate."


    "I see," T''Pol said.


    Tyson laughed good-naturedly. But he held his fork out and raised his eyebrow in challenge.


    T''Pol peered at his fork. Maintaining her trademark poise, she leaned forward and sampled a bite of the luminous vegetables. Her eyes widened a fraction.


    "Fascinating," she remarked. "The bioluminescent properties enhance not only the visual appeal but also the flavor profile."


    Tyson beamed. "I had a feeling you''d appreciate it." He took another bite of the flavorful medley, savoring the view and the company. "What did you make of the planet''s supposed healing properties? Your scans seemed pretty thorough."


    T''Pol set down her spoon. "Despite the unique enzymes and compounds in the local flora, I found no conclusive evidence to support the claim that this planet possesses extraordinary healing capabilities. The biochemical properties, while intriguing, do not appear to have any direct medicinal effects on humanoid physiology."


    Tyson considered her words while taking in the view of Solacium. The city lights began to twinkle as the last rays of sunlight faded from the sky. After a moment, he turned back to T''Pol.


    "I''d like to propose a theory, if I may," he said, leaning forward slightly. "In my time, we identified a phenomenon known as the placebo effect. Are you familiar with it?"


    "I am not. Please elaborate."


    "The placebo effect is a demonstration of the mind-body connection. Essentially, if a person believes they''re receiving a treatment that will help them, they often experience real, measurable improvements in their condition. Even if the treatment is inert or has no direct physiological effect." He paused, allowing T''Pol to process the information. Her brow furrowed slightly as she considered the implications. "For example, in medical trials, some participants might be given a sugar pill instead of actual medication. Yet, many of these people often report feeling better and, in some cases, even show physical improvements. Their belief in the treatment''s efficacy triggers real healing responses in their bodies," he explained.


    "This suggests that the power of belief can have tangible effects on one''s physical well-being."


    "Exactly," Tyson gestured to the stunning vista before them. "Now, look at this place. It''s beautiful, peaceful, and incredibly relaxing. While your scans might not have found any direct healing properties in the environment, I propose that the planet itself might be conducive to healing in a different way. Think about it. People come here expecting to be healed, to find peace and rejuvenation. They''re surrounded by natural beauty, clean air, and tranquility. The very act of being in this environment, combined with their expectation of healing, could potentially trigger real physiological changes. Moreover, the relaxation induced by such an environment could lower stress levels, which we know has a significant impact on overall health. Reduced stress can improve immune function, sleep, and other benefits."


    "Your theory has merit," she admitted. "It would explain the reports of healing despite the lack of concrete evidence ever discovered. Combining belief and a conducive environment could produce measurable health improvements."


    Tyson smiled, pleased that T''Pol saw the logic in his theory. "Exactly. So while Haven might not have any magical healing properties in its soil, air, or flora, the experience of being here could be therapeutic in its own right."


    As their plates were cleared away, Tyson said, "I spoke with Captain Picard. He approved your visitation rights on the Enterprise. I''ve been meaning to ask. How are you finding life in this time?"


    "It has been... enlightening. The technological advancements are impressive, though not unexpected. I find the social and cultural changes most intriguing." Tyson nodded, encouraging her to continue. "The level of cooperation and understanding between species has progressed significantly," T''Pol elaborated. "It is... gratifying to see the realization of what began in my time."


    "No doubt. I haven''t seen any Andorians and Vulcans throwing down on the Enterprise."


    She raised an eyebrow at his unusual phrasing. "Indeed."


    "Oh, before I forget, I need to pick a wedding gift for Counselor Troi. Care to help me choose? I heard Haven produces some excellent wines."


    "I am not certain I would be the most suitable advisor for selecting alcoholic beverages. However, I will assist if you believe my input would be valuable."


    After settling their bill, they stopped at a nearby wine merchant. Bottles of various shapes and sizes lined the shelves. The proprietor, a jovial Havenite greeted them warmly. "Welcome, friends! Here to sample the finest wines in the quadrant?"


    "We''re looking for a wedding gift. Something special, unique to Haven."


    The proprietor''s eyes lit up. "Ah, a celebration of love! I have just the thing." He disappeared into the back of the shop, returning moments later with an elegantly crafted bottle. The liquid inside seemed to dance with swirls of gold and silver.


    "Havenwood barrels," he announced proudly, "infuse the healing essence of our planet into the wine created from locally grown fruits unique to Haven. It''s said to bring good fortune and lasting happiness to newlyweds."


    Tyson nodded, impressed. "It sounds perfect. We''ll take it." However, T''Pol examined the wine skeptically.


    As the proprietor wrapped the bottle, Tyson turned to T''Pol. "What do you think? Will Counselor Troi like it?"


    T''Pol considered for a moment. "While I cannot speak to individual tastes, the cultural significance of this wine makes it a logical choice for a wedding gift."


    With the win secured, they stepped back out into the evening air. The stars were now fully visible, bathing the streets of Solacium in a soft light from both the stars and the bioluminescent plants lining the walkways.


    "Well, what do you say we explore more of the city? I''ve heard there''s a botanical garden nearby with some spectacular night blooms. We could check it out and then hit a hot spring to soak off the day''s exploration."


    "That would be agreeable. I am curious to observe the nocturnal behaviors of Haven''s native flora."


    Tyson grinned roguishly. "Did you pack any swimwear?"


    "I did not anticipate the need for such attire on this expedition."


    "No worries," he said with casual confidence.


    T''Pol raised a skeptical eyebrow. "Your enthusiasm makes me question your intentions at this hot spring."


    Tyson let out a surprised bark of laughter. "You''re getting to know me all too well. And if I didn''t know better, I''d think you just made a joke."


    His combadge chirped, interrupting their plans. "Captain Picard to Ensign Tyson," came the captain''s voice.


    Tyson tapped his badge. "Yes, captain?"


    "We have a situation developing. Your presence is required back on the Enterprise immediately." Picard said firmly.


    He looked to T''Pol regretfully, but she spoke before he could. "Go," she said. "Attend to your duties. I will return to the Personal Reality shortly¡­ Perhaps we can come back in the future to visit one of the hot springs since you''ll likely be deprived of the experience."


    Tyson stepped closer. "I appreciate your understanding and consideration."


    Slowly, he raised his hand. T''Pol mirrored the gesture, their fingers joining in an intimate psychic link. She leaned forward, bestowing the lightest kiss upon his lips before pulling away. With a last longing look, Tyson stepped backward.


    "On my way, sir," Tyson replied. Tapping his combadge again, he said, "Tyson to Enterprise, one to beam up."


    ¡ª Star Jumper ¡ª


    Tyson browsed through the system menu in his HUD as he took the turbolift to the bridge. If he was being recalled, there must be some crisis incoming. Captain Picard and the Enterprise crew had accepted his sudden position as an Ensign without question, despite the Perk being purchased in the alternate Trek timeline. He hadn''t been assigned a duty shift, but his guest quarters were reassigned. He still had quarters; they were far smaller, more like a studio apartment than his previous one-bedroom suite. However, he had his Personal Reality Housing Complex to stay in, which was nicer.


    Tapping through menu after menu, Tyson searched for a perk he''d previously seen that would allow him to take advantage of his situation. He purchased it without hesitation.


    [50 CP (Discounted)] Speedy Promotions (Perk)Support the author by searching for the original publication of this novel.


    Whenever you''re a member of a hierarchical organization like a military or corporation, you''ll always find yourself being promoted at a faster rate than your peers.


    Character Points: 1150


    Now maybe he could get that promotion and have some nicer quarters on the Enterprise. Once he had a permanent space on the ship, there were options to link it to his Personal Reality, but he''d hold off on that until it was settled. Tyson strode onto the bridge as the turbolift doors swished open. He went across to another door, then down the ramp to the observation lounge, to join the senior staff already assembled within.


    The officers'' faces were etched with concern as they reviewed the data on the viewscreen.


    Commander Riker addressed him, "Glad you could join us, Ensign. A damaged Tarellian vessel is approaching Haven at impulse. Traveling that slowly¡­ it must be a crippled ship."


    "If she can''t reach warp, it''d take years to make this trip from Tarella," Geordi agreed.


    Riker gave a curt nod. "Without warp capacity, this journey would''ve spanned decades."


    "Please, continue the briefing, Mr. Data," Captain Picard prompted, steepling his fingers on the table.


    "Tarella was a Class M planet, similar to Earth, with comparable humanoid inhabitants. However, they succumbed to hatred and attacked one another with biological weapons."


    Picard''s expression darkened, new lines creasing his face. "Open warfare? With viruses?"


    "Correct, Captain," Data confirmed. "One nation released a deadly pathogen targeting the other landmass. The results were... devastating."


    Dr. Crusher sighed. "A pointless conflict. It''s tragic how humanoids can spiral into violence despite our intelligence." She shook her head sadly.


    Picard looked at her, asking, "Can you identify the origin of the infection, Doctor?"


    Crusher sighed. "The Tarellians had reached Earth''s late twentieth-century level of knowledge. That''s all you need if you''re a damned fool. A deadly, infectious virus that is not difficult to grow at that modest level of knowledge. The surviving Tarellians are all asymptomatic carriers of their plague. They may look healthy, but any contact with them is deadly."


    Tasha Yar added, "We learned the rest of the story in security training. Some Tarellians made it to other worlds, only to die along with the populations they infected."


    LaForge nodded. "It''s pretty well covered in Academy training now, Captain. Many tried to avoid other civilized worlds as they escaped only to be hunted down and destroyed anyway."


    "And it was believed that the last Tarellian vessel was destroyed eight years ago by the Alcyones."


    "Yes, sir," confirmed LaForge.


    Picard turned to Data. "Exactly when will they reach Haven?"


    Data replied with his usual precision, "Exactly thirteen hours, nine minutes, twenty-two seconds¡­"


    "Thank you," Picard interrupted, not needing the exact figure. He continued, "Which creates a very difficult problem for the Enterprise. Our treaty requires us to protect Haven, and Federation policy requires that we assist life forms in need, which must include the Tarellians.¡±


    Picard cleared his throat, shifting in his chair to adopt a lighter, more jovial tone. "However, there will be ample time for your second assignment, voluntary of course. The pre-joining announcement of Counselor Deanna Troi."


    He paused, glancing around the table. "And Wyatt Miller."


    At the mention of Miller, Commander Riker''s face darkened. His jaw clenched, and he stood abruptly, the chair scraping loudly against the floor. Without a word, he strode from the briefing room, the doors hissing shut behind him.


    Obviously frustrated, Riker''s exit left a charged silence in the air, which Tyson broke by saying, "I, for one, would be happy to help with the event planning."


    Unfazed, Picard replied, "I''ve no problem with it so long as it''s fine with Counselor Troi. The Miller family is living on Earth, and they might enjoy whatever spin you can add that would make the ceremony more familiar. But, Ensign, I have a request for you. You found a solution to the Tsilokovsky infection. I''d greatly appreciate it if you''d be willing to work with Dr. Crusher on the Tarellian plague after the reception."


    "It''s been studied exhaustingly, but any insights you can offer might be helpful."


    "Of course, Captain. I''m happy to assist in any way I can."


    ¡ª Star Jumper ¡ª


    The atmosphere in one of the Enterprise''s diplomatic lounges was charged with tension. Tyson had hoped for 10-Forward, but it still wasn''t available. Captain Picard had opened one of the ship''s many other reception rooms for this impromptu gathering.


    Victoria, Wyatt''s mother, addressed the captain. "We''ve discussed it and would like to hold the ceremony tomorrow if you agree. And Captain, would you do us the honor of officiating?"


    Caught off guard by the request, Picard responded cautiously, though not unkindly. "Well, yes, of course, if that is what all parties wish."


    Lwaxana Troi bristled. "All parties do not wish it. It''s simply out of the question. My apologies, Captain, but you lack the necessary training in Betazoid joining rituals."


    "Quite true," Picard conceded diplomatically, relieved to be spared the unexpected duty.


    "Therefore, you are totally unqualified," Lwaxana continued dismissively.


    But Victoria stood firm, refusing to back down. "He is qualified to conduct a traditional Earth ceremony, which is what this will be."


    Lwaxana scoffed, her voice dripping with disdain. "I thought you were humorless. An Earth wedding? Absurd!"


    "My family resides on Earth now," Victoria retorted, undeterred by the matriarch''s scorn.


    Lwaxana feigned pity, slowly shaking her head. "So that explains this backward ritual you request. How sad, Captain, to see a woman decline so."


    "Decline?" Victoria repeated incredulously, offended by the woman''s uncalled-for slight.


    "Mother, enough!" Deanna said, raising her voice, unable to restrain herself any longer.


    Nearby, Tyson observed the escalating conflict with growing amusement. Unable to resist fanning the flames, he interjected teasingly, "I vote for the Betazoid-style ceremony."


    Lwaxana pointed triumphantly at the tall man. "You see? He understands!"


    Data cocked his head inquisitively. "Fascinating. Tyson, why do you advocate for the traditional Betazed ceremony when you hail from Earth?"


    He turned an accusatory look upon Lwaxana. "This whole arrangement strikes me as backward. Even in my time, over three hundred years in the past, such antiquated practices as arranged marriages were largely abandoned."


    Captain Picard raised a hand. "Ensign Tyson, while Earth customs have certainly changed since your era, we must strive to respect the diverse cultures within the Federation, regardless of how alien their ways may seem."


    Tyson dipped his head deferentially. "Of course, Captain. I spoke out of turn." He pivoted to address the expectant android. "To answer your question, Commander, I believe that if Counselor Troi must endure this, we ought to provide her some amusement¡­ In a traditional Betazed wedding, the participants are naked. That should provide sufficient entertainment."


    "I see," Data replied, as if that explained everything. The other officers shifted uncomfortably, exchanging uneasy glances at this revelation.


    Amusement flickered across Tasha Yar''s face, and she rolled her eyes knowingly. "Why am I not surprised you''d focus on the naked aspect, Tyson? You seemed right at home among the Edo."


    The ensign shrugged nonchalantly. "It''s not a big deal to me."


    "Maybe not to you," Beverly Crusher retorted wryly.


    Quick as a flash, Tyson volleyed back, "Come now, doctor, you''re talking like you took a close look at my medical scans. I''m sure I''ve got nothing your tricorder hasn''t scanned before."


    His words brought a vivid blush to the doctor''s cheeks. Yar spoke up in her defense. "She''s the doctor. She''s seen most of us naked."


    T''Pol, in her typical Vulcan manner, commented, "He was indeed comfortable with the Edo. Considering I have encountered Tyson unclothed, I can confirm he has nothing to be ashamed of."


    Yar sipped her wine and said, low, but not so low that everyone didn''t hear, "Even the Vulcan saw him naked. Now I''m feeling left out."


    T''Pol turned to Yar. "Lieutenant, I fail to understand why you feel ''left out'' when I am engaged in a physical relationship with Ensign Tyson?" Yar''s eyes widened, her mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. Before she could formulate a response, T''Pol continued. "I can only assume, from your words, that you wish to see him naked as well. Were you unaware of our relationship, or is polyamory common among humans?"


    Data, ever eager to share information, chimed in before Yar could recover. "Actually, T''Pol, polyamory has a fascinating history in human culture. While not always openly acknowledged, it has existed in various forms throughout Earth''s past."


    Geordi groaned, sensing another of Data''s impromptu lectures. "Here we go..."


    Undeterred, Data continued. "In many societies, particularly those with strong patriarchal structures, men of power often engaged in relationships with multiple partners. This was especially prevalent among royalty and nobility."


    T''Pol nodded, absorbing the information. "I see. Dr. Phlox on the Enterprise was Denobulan and he had multiple wives, but I never observed such among humans. So, in accordance with human customs, it would not be unusual for Tyson to have multiple female partners. He is, after all, exceptionally powerful by human standards."


    "Fascinating," Data interrupted, "Are you suggesting that Tyson''s unique abilities make him more suitable for polyamorous relationships?"


    "I am merely observing that Tyson''s extraordinary capabilities might align with historical human practices of powerful individuals engaging in multiple relationships."


    Data tilted his head, processing this information. "An intriguing hypothesis, T''Pol. However, I must point out that correlation does not imply causation. Tyson''s abilities, while remarkable, do not necessarily predispose him to polyamorous behavior."


    "Perhaps not," T''Pol conceded. "However, it is logical to consider that his unique abilities might influence his approach to relationships."


    Tyson, amusedly listening to this exchange, cleared his throat. "I appreciate the academic interest in my love life, but maybe we should change the subject? We''re here for Counselor Troi''s relationship, after all, not mine."


    Data, oblivious to Tyson''s intentions, pressed on. "On the contrary, Ensign. This discussion provides valuable insight into the intersection of human cultural practices, interspecies relationships, and individual capabilities. Your situation is unique, but there may be points that are applicable to Counselor Troi''s relationship. Giving advice to the soon-to-be-wed is another Earth tradition."


    "Indeed," T''Pol agreed.


    "If we are to draw parallels between Ensign Tyson''s unique situation and historical precedents, one particularly apt example comes to mind. That of Genghis Khan, the founder of the Mongol Empire." The android''s words drew curious glances from around the room.


    "Genghis Khan was a man of extraordinary power and influence in his time," Data continued, oblivious to the growing discomfort of some of his audience. "He united the nomadic tribes of Northeast Asia and created the largest contiguous land empire in history. But what''s particularly relevant to our discussion is the impact his power had on his personal relationships."


    Geordi groaned softly. "Data, maybe we should-"


    But the android pressed on, undeterred. "Historical and genetic evidence suggests that Genghis Khan fathered an unprecedented number of children with multiple partners. This was not merely a result of his personal desires, but a strategic move to solidify alliances and ensure loyalty across his vast empire."


    T''Pol nodded, her eyebrow raised in fascination. "Logical. Using personal relationships as a means of political and social control is a strategy employed by many cultures throughout history, even beyond Earth."


    "Precisely," Data agreed. "In fact, records of genetic studies from Ensign Tyson''s times indicate that approximately 0.5% of the male population in the world, or roughly 16 million men, were direct descendants of Genghis Khan."


    Tyson shifted uncomfortably in his seat, acutely aware of the parallels being drawn. He didn''t want his name anywhere near Khan''s, given that he was secretly an Augment. The Outlawed Drawback hadn''t affected him much because no one knew. "Data, I appreciate the lesson, and most of what you said lines up with my memories from history class, but I''m not sure how this relates to¡­"


    "On the contrary, Ensign," Data interrupted earnestly. "The parallels are quite striking. Like Genghis Khan, you possess abilities that set you apart from the general population. Your power to create portals and your access to advanced healing abilities marks your unique potential."


    "Data," Picard warned, sensing the conversation was veering into dangerous territory.


    But the android continued, and his programming drove him to complete his analysis. "Just as Genghis Khan''s relationships served to strengthen his empire, one could argue that your relationships could have far-reaching implications for the Federation and beyond. Given your abilities, it''s not unreasonable to hypothesize that your offspring could inherit some of these traits. This could have significant implications for future generations, much like the genetic legacy of Genghis Khan."


    Tasha Yar, who had been uncharacteristically quiet, finally spoke up. "Are we really discussing Tyson''s... reproductive potential right now?"


    "It is a relevant topic," T''Pol stated matter-of-factly. "If Ensign Tyson''s abilities can be passed down genetically, it would be logical to consider the implications of his reproductive choices."


    Tyson raised his hands in a placating gesture. "Whoa, let''s pump the brakes here. I''m not planning on fathering an army or creating some sort of dynasty."


    "Perhaps not intentionally," Data replied. "But history shows us that individuals of great power often have an outsized impact on future generations, whether they intend to or not. Genghis Khan likely did not set out to become the ancestor of millions, yet his actions had that effect."


    "Fascinating," T''Pol mused. "So, in human culture, it would be considered acceptable, even expected, for a person of Tyson''s abilities to engage in multiple relationships?"


    Data tilted his head, considering. "While modern human society generally frowns upon polygamy, we''ve already discussed there are historical precedents and other examples within the Federation. However, it''s important to note that ethical considerations and personal choice play a significant role in modern relationships."


    "I see. So, the nature of Tyson''s abilities and his potential impact on future generations could justify a more... expansive approach to relationships, at least from a logical standpoint."


    Picard, sensing the need to steer the conversation back to safer ground, cleared his throat. "I believe we''ve strayed quite far from the original topic of Counselor Troi''s upcoming nuptials."


    But T''Pol was not to be deterred. She turned to Tyson. "In light of this information, I believe we need to discuss the nature of our relationship. It appears that human customs, particularly for individuals of your unique status, may allow for a more complex relational structure than I had initially understood."


    "T''Pol, I don''t think-"


    "It is only logical," T''Pol continued, her tone matter-of-fact. "If your genetic material and personal connections could have such far-reaching implications, it would be remiss of us not to consider all possibilities. Counselor, your input would be valuable. As an expert in interpersonal relationships, what are your thoughts on the potential benefits and drawbacks of a polyamorous arrangement for someone in Ensign Tyson''s unique position?"


    Deanna Troi blinked, caught off guard by the direct question. "I... well, that''s a complex issue that would require careful consideration and open communication between all parties involved."


    "Precisely," T''Pol nodded. "This is why Ensign Tyson and I need to have a thorough discussion about the parameters of our relationship. It seems there are cultural and practical considerations we have not yet addressed."


    Tyson attempted to redirect the conversation. "T''Pol, I appreciate your... logical approach, but maybe this isn''t the best time or place for this discussion."


    "On the contrary," T''Pol replied, her eyebrow arching. "Given the presence of relationship experts like Counselor Troi and the historical context provided by Commander Data, this seems an ideal setting to begin our discussion."


    As the room descended into an awkward silence, Captain Picard found himself wishing for a Romulan attack, a spatial anomaly, or any other crisis that might provide an escape from this increasingly bizarre diplomatic gathering. He took his first sip of his drink, then swirled the ruby liquid in his glass.


    "This wine... It''s not synthehol."


    The room fell silent as all eyes turned to the captain.


    "You''re right," Beverly agreed, examining her glass. "I can feel the effects. It''s been a while since I''ve had real alcohol. No wonder this discussion took such a turn."


    Picard''s brow furrowed. "Where did this come from? We don''t keep alcohol on board."


    Tyson cleared his throat. "Ah, that would be my doing, Captain. I purchased a barrel on the surface for the reception. I thought it might add a touch of authenticity to the celebration. And it was my gift to the couple."


    Lwaxana Troi, who had been uncharacteristically quiet during the previous exchange, suddenly perked up. "Oh, how delightful! A proper drink for a proper celebration."


    Picard glanced around the room, noticing the flushed cheeks and loosened postures of his officers.


    "I believe you''re right, Mrs. Troi," Picard agreed. "Though it appears most of the crew are not accustomed to real alcohol. While I appreciate the gesture, Ensign Tyson, in the future, please consult with me before bringing unauthorized substances aboard the Enterprise."


    "Of course, Captain. My apologies." he agreed, though he still held an amused expression.


    Lwaxana''s declaration rang out imperiously across the room, ending the conversations. "So it''s settled. Mister Homn will conduct the joining in a traditional Betazed ceremony."


    Lines of concern creased the brow of Steven, Wyatt''s father. "But Homn can''t even talk!" he protested.


    The Betazed matriarch arched one sculpted eyebrow, her dark eyes flashing with disdain. "No matter. He is highly adept in the art of sign language." She waved a bejeweled hand dismissively. "The matter is closed."


    Victoria bristled, hands clenching into fists at her sides. She demanded through gritted teeth, "Who are you to tell us what we should do?"


    Lwaxana''s eyes sparkled with a touch of malice. She drew herself up, practically preening. "Your ignorance is astonishing," she purred. "I am Lwaxana Troi, Daughter of the Fifth House, Holder of the Sacred Chalice of Rixx, Heir to the Holy Rings of Betazed." Her tone turned challenging as she tilted her chin arrogantly. "Who are you?"


    Tyson interjected. "I hold a treasure as well, one I''ll be bringing to the ceremony." he paused, building anticipation. "I''m the keeper of the Fabled Staff of Fantasies. And with a Betazed-style wedding, it will most certainly be on display."


    Geordi, Crusher, and Yar burst into laughter. Captain Picard pressed his lips together. He had to keep the peace. Striding over, he addressed the crowd. "Ladies and gentlemen, it is a Starfleet tradition that at social gatherings, disputes are not permitted. I hereby declare, therefore, all disagreements resolved."


    As the group sat around the table for the meal, Picard took the opportunity to raise his glass. "A toast. To the young couple and their families."


    The room filled with a chorus of "hear, hear," and cheers as glasses clinked and tension eased, if only for a moment.


    As the laughter and clinking glasses continued in the background, Tyson decided he''d had enough of the party and slipped away from the group with T''Pol at his side. As he strode down the hallway, he heard the soft patter of footsteps behind him. Turning, he found himself face to face with Troi, her usually serene visage marred by a hint of uncertainty. "Tyson, I wanted to talk to you. I appreciate that you said something about my marriage. I understand what you were trying to do."


    Tyson chose his next words carefully, not wanting to offend. "I''m struggling to understand why you''re going along with this betrothal tradition without advocating for yourself or considering what you truly desire."


    Counselor Troi recoiled. A flare of defiance crossed her delicate features. "It''s not so simple," she replied crisply. "There are family obligations to weigh, expectations to meet."


    T''Pol arched her eyebrow and asked, "You seemed quite amenable to Vulcan customs when we discussed them. Is there something particular about the counselor''s arrangement that perturbs you?"


    Tyson met T''Pol''s gaze. "There is. Where I''m from, women fought hard for equality. Within my lifetime, they couldn''t even start a business or control their finances. Crucial rights were stripped away, even healthcare access in extreme cases." He took a step closer to Troi, holding her stare. "You''re a respected Lieutenant Commander in Starfleet. Why let archaic tradition undermine your goals and jettison your career? You''ve proffered advice in high-stakes crises and diplomatic talks, yet you recoil at confronting your mother?" Tyson paused, shaking his head. "Forgive my bluntness, but addressing conflict and emotions is your profession. I''m an empath, too, remember. I can sense your feelings. I can''t believe your mother doesn''t know how you feel."


    Troi''s delicate features hardened. "I forged my path in Starfleet, but I''m also trying to honor my Betazoid heritage." She lifted her chin, dark eyes flashing with defiance. "Thank you for the blunt perspective, Tyson. Your candor was unexpected, but I appreciate you speaking so openly."


    Tyson softened his tone. "All I mean is, don''t let fear bind you to expectations and tradition. You deserve a chance to choose your path, even if it means confronting your family''s wishes."


    "Thank you. I''ll think carefully about what you''ve said." With a final gracious nod, she turned on her heel and continued down the hallway. As Tyson watched her disappear around the corner, he wondered if his words had changed anything.


    His enhanced hearing picked up her next whispered words. "Computer, locate Commander Riker."


    Tyson smiled faintly. Perhaps his blunt words had struck a chord and given Deanna Troi the resolve she needed to confront her mother and refuse the arranged marriage.


    He glanced at T''Pol, noticing the Vulcan seemed uncharacteristically pensive, her eyes clouded with conflict. "Is something troubling you?" he asked.


    "No, nothing," T''Pol replied evenly.


    "Ah, the double negative," he pointed out. "Clearly, something weighs on your thoughts."


    T''Pol''s expression remained impassive, making it clear she had no wish to give voice to the internal debate currently occupying her thoughts. Instead, she met his gaze and asked, "Are you interfering in Counselor Troi''s marital arrangements because you deem her a suitable romantic partner for our polyamorous relationship?"


    Tyson blinked, momentarily taken aback.


    T''Pol continued, "I gathered from your discussion that Deanna Troi is an empath. Any offspring produced would likely be quite gifted psionically."


    For several seconds, Tyson could only stare at the lovely Vulcan. Then he broke into laughter, shaking his head in amusement. "Now I know you''re messing with me."


    ¡ª Star Jumper ¡ª


    The doors to sickbay hissed open as Tyson stepped inside. Dr. Crusher and her team all sat at terminals studying the data related to the Tarellian plague. As he approached, Crusher looked up from her work. "Tyson, I''m glad you''re here. I need to brief you on the Tarellian plague and the potential threat it poses to the inhabitants of Haven."


    Crusher gestured for Tyson to follow her to a nearby display, where an intricate representation of the Tarellian virus floated. She tapped a few controls, and the image began to rotate, revealing the complexity of the pathogen. "The Tarellian plague is a highly virulent and deadly virus that wiped out nearly the entire Tarellian population," she began, "It''s spread through airborne transmission, making it incredibly contagious. The virus targets the respiratory system, causing severe pneumonia and ultimately leading to organ failure. All surviving Tarellians are passive carriers."


    "Unfortunately, the virus is highly adaptable and resistant to all known treatments. We''ve been working around the clock to find a solution, but we haven''t had any success. Federation scientists encountered the Tarellians over a century ago and never developed a solution."


    "Let''s take a step back for a moment," he said, raising a hand. "While I appreciate the complexity here, virology is not my area of expertise. As you know, my Medical Bay operates on technology beyond my understanding." He glanced at the swirling diagram of the virus, feeling out of his depth. "I don''t pretend to grasp the intricacies of this plague. But from what I''ve seen of the Medical Bay''s capabilities, it likely holds the solution you seek."


    Crusher sighed. She had expected this as much as it pained her to admit it.


    Tyson held up his hand for a moment of thought. He hadn''t used the Force much while on the Enterprise. He''d used it to push away the crew members approaching him during the Polywater Contagion, and Yar had seen him use it on Ligon. While he''d briefed the senior staff, they hadn''t ever really seen him use his abilities beyond opening portals.


    "I might be able to cure the plague by using the Force," Tyson said with a hint of uncertainty.


    "The Force? You mean that mystical energy field you mentioned?" Dr. Crusher''s skepticism was evident.


    "Yes. Force Healing is a powerful ability that can combat diseases. It''s not just about mending physical wounds; it can purge toxins and pathogens from the body."


    Crusher leaned forward, intrigued despite her initial doubt. "And you believe this... Force could cure the Tarellian plague? Something our most advanced medical science hasn''t been able to touch?"


    "It''s possible," Tyson replied. "But there''s a catch. I''d have to heal each person individually, hands-on. It''s an intensive process." He paused, considering the alternatives. "On the other hand, my Medical Bay could potentially cure all the Tarellians at once."


    "But for both solutions, you''d have to be in close proximity to the Tarellians, wouldn''t you? That puts you at risk of infection."


    Tyson nodded grimly. "You''re right. To get them into the Medical Bay, I''d either have to go to them to open a portal, or they''d have to come to me."


    She tapped her combadge. "Crusher to Captain Picard. Please report to Sickbay."


    Picard''s voice came through. "On my way, Doctor."


    Minutes later, the doors hissed open, and Picard strode in. "Report, Doctor," he prompted.


    "Captain, I''ve exhausted every avenue pursuing a cure for the Tarellian plague. Our simulations have failed repeatedly." She shook her head in frustration. "But Ensign Tyson believes his Medical Bay may succeed where our science has fallen short."


    Picard raised his eyebrows, intrigued. "Go on."


    "The Medical Bay utilizes advanced technology beyond what we have access to," Crusher explained. "It cured the Tsilokovsky virus and freed you from the alien energy being."


    Tyson jumped in eagerly. "I''m happy to help in any way, Captain. But the issue is I''d need to bring infected Tarellians into my Personal Reality. So either they''d need to come to the Enterprise, which I don''t recommend, or I''d need to visit their ship myself."


    Captain Picard''s face darkened as he considered the potential risks of bringing infected Tarellians aboard the Enterprise. "I see. That certainly complicates matters," he said gravely.


    "Yes, it does," Doctor Crusher agreed. "But we believe the Medical Bay is the only route to success. We need your permission to proceed."


    Captain Picard''s jaw set firm as he weighed the risks involved in their proposal. His gaze shifted between them as he delivered his decision. "I''m sorry, Doctor, Ensign, but I cannot authorize this course of action. The safety of the Enterprise crew is my primary responsibility, and I cannot knowingly jeopardize their well-being."


    Doctor Crusher''s face fell at his blunt refusal, and she pressed urgently, "Captain, this may be the only chance we have to save the Tarellians from annihilation."


    "I understand your conviction, Doctor, but the safety of this crew must come first. Recklessly endangering them is something I cannot condone." Crusher opened her mouth to object, but Picard raised a hand. "Furthermore, sending Ensign Tyson alone into a plague-ravaged ship would be tantamount to ordering his death. I''ll not sacrifice any member of this crew by demanding they undertake such peril."


    Crusher''s shoulders slumped, her agitation plain. Picard''s expression softened slightly. "There are additional concerns beyond the risk, Doctor. The Prime Directive must also be considered." He began pacing. "If we utilize advanced technology to rescue the last Tarellians from annihilation, would that constitute interference in their natural development? This pathogen was of their creation. Countless pre-warp civilizations obliterate themselves before achieving warp capability." His mouth twisted bitterly. "While the Tarellians are warp-capable, our involvement may still violate the Prime Directive''s spirit, if not the letter." Picard raised his chin. "I''ll not hide behind the Prime Directive as an excuse to allow their extinction. But neither will I endanger this crew nor violate my oath of office. I''m truly sorry, Doctor. My decision stands."


    Crusher stared at him, crestfallen. But she knew that steely finality in his tone. "Very well, Captain. I''ll continue researching and exhaust every possibility to find another solution."


    "Please do, Doctor. I have faith that you will leave no stone unturned."


    At Doctor Crusher''s disheartened look, Tyson cleared his throat. "Captain, a moment, please?" Tyson asked respectfully.


    "Very well, Ensign Tyson. What is it you want to discuss?"


    "Captain, I fully understand your reasons for denying the treatment proposal for the Tarellian plague, but I humbly ask you to reconsider. I volunteer without reservation for this mission."


    Doctor Crusher''s eyes widened in surprise. "Tyson, are you certain? Braving the Tarellian ship could prove extremely hazardous, even fatal."


    "We can''t just stand by and do nothing. I''m sure I can save these people. I''ve faced plenty of dangers before, and I trust in my equipment to administer the treatment. If we don''t act, these people will die. If there''s a chance that we can save them, I believe we have a moral obligation to try. Captain, I understand your reservations. Despite what the Temporal investigators determined, you disapproved of my methods against the Romulans. I know people from my era are often regarded with the same wariness as the Tarellians. And that''s not without cause." Picard opened his mouth to object, but Tyson pressed on.


    "You''re not wrong. We nearly destroyed ourselves and our planet through wars and greed."


    He paused, letting his words sink in, and the objection on Picard''s lips died.


    "Do you remember what Q said when he dropped me in your lap? Advancement isn''t defined solely by technology and science. Maybe you lost something vital along the way." Tyson smiled. "You might see Q as a menace who likes messing with you. I know what that''s like. He relishes tormenting us both. But I can''t believe it was simply chance that brought me to your ship. I have much to learn from you, Captain, but perhaps I can also surprise you along the way."


    "Let me try to save these people. At best, we save a dying race. At worst, it makes for an interesting log entry. And without me here, Q has one less excuse to bother you."


    Captain Picard studied the young ensign. His stern expression gave no hint of his inner thoughts. After a long, tense moment, he finally spoke. "I will allow you to undertake this mission," he said at last. "However, I want you to be equipped with the necessary protective gear and precautions, and I will inform the crew to prepare for any potential fallout."


    "Thank you, Captain. I won''t let you down."


    A sudden announcement from the bridge interrupted their discussion. Commander Riker''s voice came over the comm system, urgent and concerned, "Captain Picard, Doctor Crusher, and Counselor Troi to the bridge immediately."


    The trio exchanged worried glances before quickly making their way to the bridge. Upon arrival, they found the senior staff gathered around the main viewscreen, which displayed an image of the Tarellian vessel.


    Commander Riker reported, "We have a situation," he said. "Wyatt Miller has just transported himself onto the Tarellian vessel without permission."


    Captain Picard''s face grew taut with concern. "Why on Earth would he do that?"


    Doctor Crusher shook her head, her eyes wide with worry. "I don''t know, but we need to get him back immediately. If he''s exposed to the Tarellian plague, it could be fatal."


    "Captain, there''s something you should know. Wyatt told me about a woman he''d been seeing in his dreams since childhood. He had sketches and renderings of this dream woman all throughout his quarters. The woman from Wyatt''s dreams, the one he''s been seeing, is on the Tarellian ship." Counselor Troi revealed.


    The crew exchanged surprised glances. Captain Picard furrowed his brow. "Are you certain, Counselor?"


    Troi nodded. "Yes, I saw her when we opened communications with them. She is undoubtedly the reason Wyatt went over there."


    "Chasing his dream girl¡­ I can respect that." Tyson said, "We shouldn''t waste any time. I''m ready to go over there and help treat the Tarellians. I should be able to save Wyatt as well."


    Captain Picard nodded his agreement. "Very well, Tyson. Coordinate with Doctor Crusher and prepare for immediate transport. We''ll maintain a transporter lock on you and Wyatt, but again, I must warn you. I will not bring you back to the Enterprise if you''re infected with the Tarellian Plague."


    Tyson rushed to Deck 6, reaching transporter room 2. He quickly moved to the transporter pad. Deanna entered the room immediately afterward. She turned to the on-duty crewman and said, "Dismissed." As the crewman left, she approached Tyson, her eyes filled with concern. "I need to talk to you. I know you want to help the Tarellians, and I understand that. But you don''t have to risk your life. There must be another way."


    "Deanna, I appreciate your concern, but I promise you I have already had this discussion with Doctor Crusher and the Captain. We had settled on this course of action before Wyatt''s transport. There isn''t as much risk to me as everyone is making it seem."


    Troi hesitated for a moment and Tyson could feel her emotions shifting through his empathy. "I have to ask. Are you doing this for me?"


    "I''m doing this because it''s the right thing to do. I know this situation with Wyatt affects you deeply, but I''m the one best equipped to help them. Honestly, you''re all worried over nothing. I''m going to be fine."


    Troi realized she couldn''t sway him. Instead, she hugged him tightly and whispered, "Just promise me you''ll be back."


    Tyson wrapped his arms around her, returning her hug. Grinning, he replied, "I have to do this. Otherwise, I''ll miss the triumphant moment of character development when you stand up to your mom and Wyatt''s parents and declare the wedding off¡­"


    He joked, "If things don''t work out with Commander Riker, I''d happily take you on a date."


    Troi playfully swatted Tyson''s chest. Her eyes held a hint of moisture but danced with amusement. "Oh, you''re incorrigible! Really, Tyson? As if T''Pol isn''t enough." She joked back, "Maybe we should work on the character development part first. But fine, I''ll consider your offer on the condition that you return safe and sound. Deal?"


    Tyson''s face lit up with mirth. "Deal! Ha! Your fate has been sealed, Deanna Troi! No take-backs." He declared triumphantly before stepping onto the transporter pad. "And for the record, it was T''Pol''s idea. You heard her at the reception. Who would have thought putting a Vulcan and an android in the same room would cause so much drama?"


    Troi walked over to the transporter console. Tyson cheekily asked, "Are you sure you know how to operate that thing?"


    Troi rolled her eyes in response. "Weren''t you the one who reminded me that I''m a Lieutenant Commander? I think I can handle a simple transport."


    She smiled wryly. "Maybe."


    Tyson''s grin faltered slightly. "What do you mean, maybe?"


    "Energizing." She said with a playful wink.


    The transporter beam shimmered around Tyson, scattering his molecules through the stream. As his form dissolved into golden light, his last glimpse was of Deanna''s smiling face. Then, there was only the beam''s familiar tingle and the transit blur.


    The transporter beam deposited Tyson onto the decrepit Tarellian vessel. He had manifested the helmet of his Gray Goo Suit. The Spacesuit functionality ensured that he wasn''t exposed to the virus.


    The dim emergency lights flickered erratically across the dilapidated ship. As Tyson surveyed his unfamiliar surroundings, a haggard figure caught his eye. Wyatt stood amidst a small group of eight emaciated Tarellians. They were carriers of a curse that killed all they came in contact with but did not affect them otherwise.


    "I''m Ensign Tyson," he announced, "I''m here to help."


    Wyatt turned, surprise flickering across his pale, sweat-sheened face. "I didn''t expect anyone else to come," he rasped. As Tyson approached, he noticed Wyatt''s complexion had grown ashen, his hands trembling slightly.


    "You''re showing signs of the disease," Tyson said bluntly.


    "It was bound to happen," Wyatt replied, attempting to brush off Tyson''s observation despite the tremors in his limbs. "I came here knowing the risks."


    Tyson didn¡¯t feel chastising the man would be helpful, but he couldn¡¯t deny that coming to the Tarellian vessel was idiotic. What could Wyatt have hoped to accomplish in this ship with its obsolete technology, where even the greatest Federation scientists had failed after decades of research? Especially without supplies or a solid plan. Coming here had been foolish, a suicide mission driven by emotion rather than logic.


    Tyson couldn''t help but think he''d been spending too much time with T''Pol if he was going to chastise someone over being illogical.


    Surveying the vessel, he noticed its antiquated technology and dilapidated condition. The ship was at least a century behind the Enterprise-D. No replicators were in sight, explaining the Tarellians'' emaciated frames. As Geordi and Riker indicated, the warp engine was dormant, and the ship operated on emergency power alone. At the vessel''s heart was an enormous fusion reactor. It was the only thing keeping the lights on and life support functioning.


    Tyson couldn''t shake the oppressive feeling of doom that seemed to permeate every inch of the ship.


    Shaking off his unease, Tyson placed a hand on the nearest wall and opened a portal directly into his Medical Bay. "Everyone, get in and onto a bed," he directed. Let''s clear up this infection and see if we can get you all healthy again. You too, Wyatt."


    ¡ª Star Jumper ¡ª


    The familiar electronic chirp of the communications console pierced the pensive silence of Captain Picard''s ready room. He tapped the console, opening the priority channel from Starfleet Command.


    Admiral Jameson''s stern, aged face appeared on the viewscreen. "Captain Picard, I have new orders for the Enterprise. You are to proceed immediately to the Persephone System."


    "Admiral, we are currently engaged in a delicate situation with the Tarellians. We encountered one of their vessels and have made significant progress developing a treatment for the plague devastating their people, but we require more time to ensure their survival."


    The old Admiral remained unmoved. "The Tarellians? They were declared extinct years ago." The admiral paused briefly before continuing, undaunted, "While I understand the difficult position this places you in, Captain, we cannot ignore the growing emergency in the Persephone System. Your ship is the fastest in the sector and is desperately needed there as soon as possible."


    Picard''s mind raced through options even as duty left him with only one choice. "I formally request a brief delay in our departure. We have a crew member aboard the Tarellian ship working to administer the treatment. Abandoning them now would condemn him to die with them."


    The admiral''s gaze softened microscopically, but his voice remained unyielding. "I sympathize with your predicament, Captain, but I must deny your request for delay. You have your orders."


    Picard closed his eyes briefly. Though it tore at his conscience, he knew he could not disobey a direct command. "Understood, Admiral. We will set course for Persephone immediately."


    "Thank you, Captain. Godspeed." Jameson''s image winked out, leaving Picard alone with the weight of his duty.


    Picard opened a communication channel from his Ready Room to the Tarellian vessel. He saw Tyson through the portal into his Personal Reality, and the weight of his orders bore down on him. Tyson''s attention turned to the communication terminal. He stood and reentered the Tarellian ship.


    "Ensign, I''m afraid I have grave news," Picard began without preamble. "We''ve received urgent orders from Starfleet Command. The Enterprise is to set a course for the Persephone System immediately. I''m afraid we cannot delay our departure any longer."


    "I understand, Captain. I''ll continue administering the plague treatment to the Tarellians as best I can. Wyatt has been cured. With your permission, I''ll bring him to sickbay and allow Dr. Crusher to evaluate him and confirm my treatment and scans."


    "Make it so." Picard let out a sigh of relief. Yet regret remained etched on his face. "I wish circumstances allowed us another course of action. But my hands are tied in this matter. If, for any reason, you cannot return to the Enterprise before we depart because it is beyond your teleportation range, we will establish contact with the Tarellian vessel once the Persephone situation is resolved. Afterward, we''re scheduled to head to Starbase 74 for maintenance and should have time to rendezvous if necessary. I give you my word. We will not abandon you."


    "Thank you, Captain. I appreciate your concern, but it won''t be a problem. I''ll rejoin you shortly."


    "I know you will, Ensign," Picard replied heavily. "Good luck. Picard out."


    The screen went dark. Picard wished he didn''t have to leave the young man behind before resolving the situation. But duty allowed only one path.


    Follow orders to the Persephone system and whatever unknown threat awaited them there.


    ¡ª Star Jumper ¡ª


    Wyatt''s parents, Victoria and Steven, anxiously paced the observation lounge. Lwaxana and Deanna Troi sat rigidly on the lounge''s firm chairs. Finally, the door slid open with a soft hiss. Wyatt strode in, with Doctor Crusher close behind. The gathered family exhaled a sigh of relief as they saw him hale and healthy before them.


    "Your son is in the clear," Crusher reassured. "Because he was recently infected, the treatment finished much faster than it did for the Tarellians."


    Victoria rushed forward and threw her arms around her son, tears of joy and relief spilling down her cheeks. "Oh, Wyatt, thank goodness you''re all right."


    Lwaxana swept forward, unwilling to be outdone in displays of emotion. She grasped Wyatt''s hand in both of hers. "We are so grateful for your safe return, Wyatt." Her voice rang with theatrical warmth. "And now, we simply must continue planning the wedding."


    Deanna, who had been silent until now, rose smoothly from her seat. Her voice was firm yet tinged with the faintest hint of sadness. "Actually, Mother, there will be no wedding."


    Lwaxana let out an indignant gasp that sounded like a deflating balloon. "What are you talking about, Deanna?" she demanded, her voice sharpened by outrage.


    Deanna stood firm. "I''ve been thinking a lot," she began, "and I''ve come to realize that this marriage isn''t what I want. It isn''t what any of us truly want. We''re all just blindly following tradition without considering our desires."


    Wyatt nodded, stepping forward to stand shoulder-to-shoulder with Deanna. "She''s right. We barely know each other, yet we''re expected to commit to a lifelong partnership because it''s tradition. It doesn''t make sense."


    Victoria''s eyes blazed as she whirled on Deanna. "How dare you dismiss generations of tradition so flippantly? Our families were promised to be united by this marriage. Does that mean nothing to you?"


    Before Deanna could respond, Lwaxana chimed in. "Exactly! Who are you to break faith with our honored customs?" She drew herself up, bristling with righteous fury. "You act as though you''re the first person ever to question the wisdom of our ways."


    Steven raised his hands in a calming gesture, trying to be the voice of reason amidst the growing furor. "Now, hold on, everyone. Perhaps we should take a step back here. Deanna and Wyatt are the ones getting married. Maybe we should listen to what they want."


    "Mother, I understand how profoundly important tradition is to our families. But we must recognize that times have changed. The old ways served their purpose in the past, but we should not allow ourselves to be bound by the ghosts of previous generations, forced into a life that neither of us truly desires." Deanna glanced at Wyatt, who gave her a subtle nod of encouragement. "Wyatt went to the Tarellian ship, risking certain death because there was a woman there that he saw in his dreams. Someone he likely believed he was destined to be with. If he''s that uncertain, why would you force us together? What kind of foundation is that for a marriage?"


    Wyatt stepped forward, standing shoulder-to-shoulder with Deanna in a show of solidarity. "Deanna is right. If we are to be married, it should be founded on real love and understanding between us, not merely fulfilling the expectations handed down by our families," he declared. "We need time to discover who we are as individuals first, to understand our hearts before we can commit to each other for life."


    Lwaxana''s eyes flashed with indignation. Her carefully painted lips drew into a tight frown. "Have you thought about the message this sends to the rest of our people, that our most sacred customs can be easily discarded?"


    Deanna lifted her chin in quiet defiance. "It sends the message that we are strong enough to make our own choices, to forge our own paths through life rather than mindlessly follow those laid out for us by the past," she replied, "We honor tradition, but we must also have the courage to question it when needed. Isn''t that a message worth sending, Mother?"


    The room became a cauldron of roiling emotions as the two families struggled to settle their disagreement. Shock and anger mixed with confusion and a small amount of fear. Yet, Deanna stood firm in her bold declaration of independence from the shackles of tradition.


    Picard stepped into the observation lounge to find the Troi and Miller families. Clearing his throat softly, he drew their attention. "Please accept my sincerest apologies for the intrusion," he began, regret heavy in his voice. "But I''m afraid I must inform you of a change in plans. The Enterprise has received an urgent summons to the Persephone System and we must depart immediately. Therefore, I must regretfully ask that you all disembark, as I can no longer officiate the wedding ceremony."


    A murmur of surprise rippled through the room at the captain''s words. Deanna Troi addressed Picard directly. "Captain, there will be no need for you to officiate, for there will be no wedding," she declared. "I have decided to remain aboard the Enterprise. The wedding is canceled."


    The two families responded to her blunt announcement with disappointment and understanding. Lwaxana Troi, however, was not so easily placated. "Deanna, are you certain this is what you want?" she asked.


    "Mother, I have made my decision. My place is here on the Enterprise, where I can make a real difference. This is where I choose to stay."


    Picard regarded Troi with quiet respect, acknowledging the difficulty of her choice to prioritize duty over family. He had made this sacrifice many times before. He gave her a solemn nod and then addressed the gathered families.


    "I understand this is a challenging situation for everyone," he said gently. "Rest assured, arrangements will be made for your swift and safe transport off the Enterprise. I sincerely apologize for the inconvenience, and I wish you all the best."


    Deanna''s voice rang out just as Picard reached the lounge door. "Captain, wait," she called.


    "What will become of Tyson if the Enterprise departs?"


    Picard halted. He knew Tyson''s predicament weighed heavily on her. Though Tyson had been prepared to treat the Tarellians, Wyatt''s actions precipitated his abrupt transport.


    "I informed Ensign Tyson of our imminent departure," Picard explained frankly.


    Deanna''s features still held traces of doubt. "But what will happen once the treatment concludes? Will we return for him?"


    "I cannot promise anything, Counselor. Our directives from Starfleet Command are explicit. We must voyage to the Persephone System forthwith. However, you have my word that I will do all in my power to guarantee Tyson''s safe return once our mission concludes. Ensign Tyson has assured me no complications will arise regarding his return to the Enterprise after he succeeds in healing the Tarellians. I have no cause to question his sincerity. Besides, he seems to have a talent for returning to the Enterprise after his forays without our intervention."


    Deanna knew she must accept the circumstances at hand. Tyson had promised this situation was not as dire as she feared. The best course was to trust in him. "Thank you, Captain," she acknowledged softly.


    Picard offered an understanding smile, attempting to convey his support. "You''re welcome, Counselor. If you pardon me, I must attend to our departure preparations."


    The Captain exited the lounge, leaving the Troi and Miller families to grapple with their decision. Meanwhile, Deanna Troi readied her goodbyes to her mother and the Millers.


    ¡ª Star Jumper ¡ª


    Tyson stood on the bridge of the Tarellian ship. He approached the main console, extending his hand toward it. An interface option materialized before him.


    [Free] Import (Spaceships)


    Instead of choosing a Ship Type and Size for purchase, import one space-worthy vessel you already own. Its default Section Size and Rating are that of a ship of the corresponding size. At your choice, ship parts you buy can either replace pre-existing parts of the original ship or exist in addition to them.


    The Tarellians were safely ensconced in his Medical Bay, and their treatment was well underway. The plague was being methodically unraveled from their genetic code. It would take time, but they would emerge healthy. Now, he stood alone on this ghost ship, considering its fate. The vessel represented both the Tarellian''s tragic history and their resilience in the face of unimaginable hardship. It had been their home, prison, and only hope for survival. The Tarellians had maintained it admirably despite their limited resources.


    He glanced at the viewscreen, which showed the planet Haven and the vast expanse of space beyond. The Enterprise was long gone, streaking toward Persephone at high warp.


    Tarellian Plague Ship (Spaceships)


    A vessel operated by a dying race as late as the 2360s to carry refugees. Nearly all of these ships have been destroyed to prevent the spread of the Tarellian Plague. It may be the last of its kind. It is equipped with a warp drive and transporter but carries no defensive systems.


    He accepted the import, and the vessel appeared on his character sheet.


    Decommission (Spaceship)


    Destroy this vessel. Decommissioned vessels do not self-destruct. They are absorbed by the system. In return, you are granted half of its value in Ship Points. Any living creatures on a vessel, when decommissioned, will be sent to your Personal Reality along with any CP-backed items. Non-CP-backed items will be destroyed.


    [50 SP] Ship Size Rating: II


    [100 SP] Artificial Gravity


    [100 SP] Alcubierre Drive(Damaged)


    [50 SP] Fusion Reactor


    [50 SP] Navigation Suite


    [400 SP] Transporter Room


    Total Adjusted Decommission Value: 375 SP


    Tyson called up the ship menu and reviewed his options. The Tarellian vessel was a relic of a bygone era, likely the last surviving ship of its kind. Its angular hull and exposed fusion reactor marked it as a ship of refugees, desperately seeking aid from a galaxy too fearful of contagion to offer them safe harbor. He stroked his chin, conflicted. The ship was a piece of living history, but would anyone in the Federation risk keeping such a ship as a historical artifact?


    It would be better for him to decommission the ship and use its points than let Starfleet simply destroy it. The Tarellians would understand. He would explain that it was necessary to ensure their plague did not spread further.


    He initialized the Decommission, and the system absorbed the aged vessel. The race''s legacy disappeared, and Tyson was displaced into his Personal Reality.


    Ship Points: 2750


    Episode: Star Trek The Next Generation - Haven Complete!


    +100 RP


    Reality Points: 600


    ¡ª Star Jumper ¡ª


    Tyson


    Origins: Human, Humanoid, Drop-In, Space Pirate, Bad Guy, Officer


    Race: Augment Human-Betazoid (Hybrid)


    Character Points: 1150, [250 KOTOR (Vicky)]


    Reality Points: 600


    Ship Points: 2750


    Credits: 115,450


    Status Effects: (none)


    Drawbacks:


    Gauntlet (Locked)


    Ensign Marty Stu


    A Simple Re''Q''uest


    Hybrid (Betazoid)


    Amok Time/Blood Fever


    Outlawed


    Mary Sue


    Perks:


    Cosmic Awareness


    Out of Nowhere


    Going Native


    Live and Let Live


    This is (Not?) Rocket Science


    Kinda Bland


    Determinator


    Painted On


    Snakeskin


    Adaptable


    Duelist


    Master with your Hands


    Best of the Best


    Everything Is A Weapon


    Augment


    Force Specialization: Intelligence


    Tactical Info


    Sever Force


    Specialty: Operations; Sub-Specialties (Communications, Engineering, Piloting)


    Speedy Promotions


    Items:


    Laser Blade


    Spacesuit


    Agony Booth


    Cloaking Minefield


    Lightsaber


    Gray Goo Suit


    Transwarp Beam Equation


    Companions:


    (Vicky) V-KO IV Nursedroid: Access Key, Artificial Intelligence Upgrade, Gray Goo Upgrade, Master With Your Hands, Light Weapon, Jumper''s Master Key, Scaling Cloak, Origin:Jedi, Force Specialization: Intelligence, Enhanced Mind, Lightsaber, Armored Robes, Battle Meditation


    T''Pol: Access Key


    Personal Reality:


    Access Key (Additional Keys, Key Link)


    Security System


    High-Security Inter-Reality Connecting Door (Star Trek Enterprise, Star Wars Knights of the Old Republic)


    Medical Bay (The Nano-Medical Lab, The Bio-Synthesis Lab, Microbiome Replacement Lab)


    Housing Complex (Basic Nutrition, Choice Apartments, Who''s Got the Powa, Pipes Pipes Pipes)


    Playing With Portals (Portal Link, Portal Control Rod, Free Portal, Portal Aperature x4)


    The Mystical Menagerie


    Ship Sections (Cryo-Chambers)


    Personal Mini-Reality


    Spaceships:


    Tramp Freighter (Destroyed - Respawn on 02/28/2365)


    Sith Interceptor (Bridge Upgrade)


    Automated Repair Station (Ship Size Rating: IV, Station, Bridge, Space Hulk, Artificial Gravity, Cryo-Chambers, Auto-Repair System, Synapses, Distributed, Automated Ship, Analytic Suite, Docking Port, Transporter Room, Matter Printer, Negentropy Reactor, Deflector Shields, Clarketech Module, Production Lines, Hangar, Cargo Bay, Living Quarters)


    Narada (Ship Size Rating: IV, Artificial Gravity, Alcubierre Drive, Auto-Repair System, Exotic Materials (Nanomaterials), Cargo Bay, Hangar, Hyperdrive (Transwarp), Antimatter Reactor, Navigation Suite, Analytic Suite, Deflector Shields, Missiles, Cyber Warfare Suite (Mining Drill)

 Season 2: Episode 21 - Tatooine

    Episode 21 - Tatooine


    Stardate: 41298.7


    Earth Standard Date: April 18, 2364.


    Location: Personal Reality.


    Decommissioning the Tarellian Plague Ship forced Tyson back into the Antechamber of his Personal Reality. He opened a portal to the Automated Repair Facility, in orbit of the Lehon system''s star in the Star Wars Knights of the Old Republic galaxy. He exited onto the facility at the port where the Narada was docked. The massive Romulan mining vessel loomed through the viewport. The sight of it brought back memories of his recent adventure in the alternate timeline, where he had prevented the destruction of Vulcan and captured the formidable ship.


    He had a wealth of Ship Points that were begging to be spent. Tyson considered his options, first would be the Space Hulk Upgrade, giving it an alternate ship size. Even though he could open portals large enough to fit the Narada, the ship was simply unwieldy, given how large it was. The question was, what ship size should he select?


    Tyson hadn''t considered it too heavily when he chose the option for the Automated Repair Facility. At the time, he needed to use the smallest size to move the facility between realities, using his Warehouse as an in-between point. But now that his Personal Reality was the size of the Sol system and had an ''outer space,'' that wasn''t a concern.


    Pulling up his HUD, he scrolled through the available options. The Narada''s current size was far beyond what most starships could achieve. Reducing it would make it more manageable and less conspicuous. As he browsed, Tyson realized that along with purchasing the Space Hulk upgrade, it would allow him to give the Narada the appearance of any of the ships that he owned or had Decommissioned previously. This opened up a range of possibilities. He could disguise it as the Tarellian plague ship or the Vulcan ship, Seleya, that he had encountered earlier in his journey. The Narada wouldn''t gain any of the abilities of the previously decommissioned vessels, only the cosmetic appearance.


    The idea of transforming the Narada into something more familiar to the Federation appealed to him. This would allow him to utilize its advanced technology without immediately alarming Starfleet.


    [200 SP] Space Hulk (Spaceships)


    You may buy a new size for your vessel. It gains an alt-form having that size, while still having access to everything its original form has.


    Available Frames:


    Tramp Freighter (Ship Size Rating: II)


    Sith Interceptor (Ship Size Rating: I)


    Jellyfish (Ship Size Rating: I)


    D''Kyr Class Cruiser (Ship Size Rating: III)


    Star Forge (Ship Size Rating: V)


    Automated Repair Facility (Ship Size Rating: IV)


    Tyson frowned, his brow furrowing as he scrolled through the available options for the Narada''s new appearance. None of them truly sparked his enthusiasm. The D''Kyr class Vulcan cruiser seemed the most practical choice. Since the design came from a Federation member world, it was unlikely to cause concern. Yet, it still felt like settling for something less than ideal.


    He paced along the docking port, pausing to lean against a nearby console. He tapped his fingers rhythmically, deep in thought.


    "What''s the rush?" he muttered to himself.


    He was an Ensign in Starfleet, after all. Even with his Speedy Promotions Perk, it might be some time before he reached the rank of Lieutenant Commander or Commander, the minimum required to command a starship officially.


    He had time.


    Why spend Ship Points on an appearance that didn''t truly excite him? The Narada was a unique vessel, one with capabilities far beyond most ships in known space. It deserved a form that matched its extraordinary nature.


    He turned back to face the Narada. "You and I," he addressed the ship, "we''ve got time to find the perfect look."


    Tyson would wait. The perfect design for the Narada would reveal itself in due time. If an emergency situation arose, he would choose the D''Kyr design out of necessity, but otherwise, he would sit on the choice until he found something that ''felt right.''


    Opening a portal, he stepped through, leaving the silhouette of the Narada behind and emerging into the warm embrace of Mediterranean sunlight. He found himself standing on a pristine beach.


    He''d chosen Crete as the starting point of his Personal Mini-Reality. Before him stretched the azure expanse of the Aegean Sea. The gentle lapping of waves against the shore provided a soothing rhythm. Tyson turned, taking in the panoramic view of the island. The coastline curved gracefully, forming secluded coves and dramatic cliffs. In the distance, rugged mountains rose majestically, their slopes covered in a patchwork of olive groves and cypress trees. The air was thick with the scent of wild herbs; thyme, oregano, and sage. He began to walk inland, his feet leaving imprints in the untouched sand. The beach gave way to a landscape of rolling hills and fertile valleys. Wildflowers of vibrant purples, yellows, and reds dotted the countryside, swaying gently in the wind. Climbing a small hill, he paused at the top to appreciate the island''s natural beauty. Tyson found a comfortable spot on a grassy knoll and sat down, drinking in the spectacular view. The absence of human activity lent an air of tranquility. The only sounds were those of nature, the rustling of leaves, and the distant crash of waves against the cliffs.


    Yet the island''s splendor felt incomplete. No buzz of cicadas or chirps of crickets broke the silence. No deer grazed in the valleys, nor hares darted through the undergrowth. No birds flew upon the breeze.


    He opened his menu. This island could become a thriving, vibrant ecosystem. Tyson smiled, eager to transform the barren landscape into a paradise brimming with life.


    [100 RP] Wildlife for Your Wild Life (Personal Reality)


    This upgrade adds in small forest creatures like rabbits, squirrels, wolves, and bears. Oh, yeah. birds, too, I guess. And bugs... but only mostly harmless ones. Bees, yes, Wasps, no. If you add at least 10 males & 20 females of any moose-sized or smaller species to the system, they will be added in and balanced accordingly. Non-magical species only.


    [100 RP] The Meaning of Life (Personal Reality)


    This upgrade adds fish, shellfish, and pondweed/seaweed. Also the occasional duck or swan or other waterfowl. Maybe some frogs or lizards or small reptilians, but nothing dangerous.


    [Free] The Village (Personal Reality)


    Your Personal Reality now looks like a town in the middle of the woods, or in a mountain valley, or on a cliffside or seaside/lakeside. Not only that, but you can divide up sections of the Warehouse by placing paths or bits of forest or water between them. This includes all Personal Reality expansions you buy, so if you want your Olympian Temple on an island off the coast of your village, that¡¯s fine.


    Reality Points: 400


    As Tyson activated the upgrades, life began to blossom across the island of Crete. Swallows darted through the sky, their forked tails trailing behind them as they swooped and dived in pursuit of insects. Colorful finches perched on thistle heads. In the olive groves, the soft cooing of wood pigeons echoed through the gnarled branches. High above, a pair of majestic golden eagles soared on thermal currents, their keen eyes scanning the terrain below.


    The undergrowth came alive with the rustle of small mammals. Rabbits emerged cautiously from their burrows, their noses twitching as they sampled the air. Hedgehogs snuffled through the leaf litter, searching for insects. In the denser parts of the forest, a red fox hunted.


    Insects buzzed and hummed, filling the air with a constant, soothing drone. Bees flitted from flower to flower, and butterflies danced in the breeze.


    Life flourished beneath the surface in the freshwater streams and ponds. Schools of small fish darted through the clear waters, and frogs croaked from the banks, their bulging eyes just visible above the water line.


    Along the coastline, seabirds wheeled and cried. Gulls patrolled the beaches, their raucous calls carrying on the sea breeze. Cormorants dove beneath the waves, emerging with fish clasped firmly in their beaks. In the shallows, crabs scuttled sideways across the sand, disappearing into tiny burrows as the tide ebbed and flowed.


    The island pulsed with the energy of countless living beings. He closed his eyes, letting the sounds of nature wash over him, feeling a deep sense of satisfaction and connection to this thriving ecosystem he had created.


    Next, he turned his attention to shaping the structures that would form the nucleus of his Personal mini-Reality. He envisioned a blend of ancient and modern architecture.


    First, he focused on the Housing Complex. As he willed it into existence, a grand structure materialized on a gentle slope overlooking the Aegean Sea. The building took shape as a modern interpretation of an ancient Grecian palace, its clean lines and elegant proportions evoked the timeless beauty of classical architecture. The facade was crafted from warm, honey-colored stone. Graceful columns lined the entrance, supporting a pediment adorned with intricate carvings depicting scenes from Greek mythology. Large windows with Mediterranean blue frames offered breathtaking views of the surrounding landscape.


    The roof was tiled in terracotta, its gentle slope reminiscent of traditional island dwellings. A series of terraces and balconies extended from each floor, providing outdoor spaces where one could enjoy the Cretan climate. Climbing vines and potted olive trees softened the building''s edges, integrating it further into the natural surroundings.


    Adjacent to the Housing Complex, Tyson shaped the Medical Bay. This structure seamlessly connected to the main building, its design complementing the Grecian aesthetic while subtly hinting at its advanced capabilities. The exterior featured the same honey-colored stone but with more modern lines that suggested the technology within. A pair of stylized Asclepius staffs marked the entrance. The snake-entwined rod was a recognizable symbol of healing. The windows here were tinted an opaque soft blue, providing privacy while allowing natural light to filter through.


    A short distance away, Tyson created the entrance to the Mystical Menagerie. This structure was a monumental gate, its design inspired by the grand entrances to ancient Greek temples. Two massive pillars, intricately carved with animal motifs, supported a heavy lintel stone. Atop this sat a triangular pediment adorned with a relief sculpture depicting a fantastical array of creatures, both real and mythical. The gate itself was crafted from bronze. When closed, the two leaves of the gate formed a seamless mural of intertwining vines and animals.


    As Tyson stepped back to admire his handiwork, he was struck by how naturally the new structures blended into the landscape. Rather than detracting from the island''s beauty, they enhanced it, adding a touch of civilization that complemented the natural surroundings. Together, these structures formed what could easily become a small, exclusive resort town. Yet they remained in harmony with the wild beauty of Crete, a perfect balance of man-made elegance and natural splendor.


    As beautiful as it was, he knew that beauty alone wasn''t enough. He''d been putting off necessary upgrades, especially given that his Personal Reality wasn''t empty anymore. Everyone he''d saved from the Automated Repair Facility and the Tarellians stayed within the Housing Complex. Security was his next priority. The locked doors to the other realities wouldn''t be enough to keep this place secure forever.


    He pulled up his HUD, scrolling through the available options. The Central Control upgrade caught his eye. It would be the perfect first step in enhancing the security of his Personal Reality. However, he didn''t want it to be easily accessible to anyone who might find their way into this pocket dimension.


    Tyson considered his options carefully. He could place the control room within a building near the Housing Complex, but to secure it, he''d need to purchase the Forcefield upgrade, which would cost another 200 RP.


    It was definitely on his ''to buy'' list, but for now, he chose a different approach.


    He decided to place the control room somewhere more remote, somewhere that would be challenging to reach. Tyson and his Companions could access it through portals, but putting the door somewhere inaccessible would be simple.


    But where to choose? He had the entire solar system; he could put it on the moon if he wanted to. The best part of using portals within his Personal Reality was that it was HIS reality. He could open portals anywhere within, even places he hadn''t visited previously.


    With a thought, he opened a portal and stepped through.


    The warm Mediterranean air was instantly replaced by a biting, frigid wind. Tyson found himself standing on a ledge of ice and snow.


    He had transported himself to the ice shelf of K2, the second-highest mountain in the world.


    The view was breathtaking. Jagged peaks stretched as far as the eye could see, their snow-capped summits piercing the clouds. The air was thin here, over 6,000 meters above sea level, but the Gray Goo Suit protected him from negative effects.


    He carefully made his way along the ice shelf. The wind howled around him, threatening to push him off the narrow ledge. After a few tense minutes, he reached a relatively flat area, protected somewhat from the wind by an overhanging ice formation.


    "Perfect," Tyson muttered.


    [100 RP] Central Control (Personal Reality)


    This hooks your Personal Reality up with a Smart Pseudo-Intelligent Computer System that tracks the location and condition of all items and creatures brought into your Personal Reality. It will share that information with you or anyone you authorize to use the system. They do not have to have a key, and you can set up varying levels of access. Central Control can also recall your companions to the Personal Reality if you have Portals and command it to, or they are killed and you¡¯ve set up automated recall. It can open your Personal Reality Door from the inside if you¡¯ve given it permission to do so, but it will only admit those it believes will assist you. It can only open doors on which the Access Key has been used, but the key need not be still in that door for the door to be opened.


    Reality Points: 300


    He activated the Control Room upgrade, visualizing how he wanted it to manifest in this harsh environment. As the upgrade took effect, the ice and snow before him began to shift and change.


    A structure emerged from the mountain face. Its exterior was a smooth marble surface that blended seamlessly with the surrounding ice and rock. The entrance was a heavy, reinforced door that looked like it could withstand a direct hit from a photon torpedo.


    Tyson approached the door, which slid open silently at his presence. He stepped inside, and it sealed behind him with a soft hiss. The interior was comfortably temperate.


    Holographic displays flickered to life as Tyson moved further into the room, showing real-time data from every corner of his Personal Reality. One wall was dominated by a massive screen that currently displayed a panoramic view of the Cretan landscape he had just left.


    The Control Room was easily the most secure area within the Personal Reality. So, he integrated several of the other sensitive areas into its design.


    He adjoined the Antechamber opposite the door to the mountain. The Antechamber contained the locked doors leading to other realities. It was also the default location when entering his Personal Reality using the Access Key. Next, he attached the Warehouse, which appeared through a large opening. Its shelves were mostly empty, save the few items he''d found on his adventures that were worth saving. Finally, he installed the Cryo-Chambers, which included the pod holding Ambassador Spock.


    His lips curled into a faint smile as he surveyed the upgrades. His base of operations was now complete, for now.


    Then, a door slid open.


    Tyson turned, shocked. He hadn''t expected anyone to ever be able to find the Control Room, let alone so quickly after he placed it. But he released his breath when he realized it was Vicky, his pink-haired droid companion. She came in from the Antechamber, not the door to K2.


    "Love what you''ve done with the place!" Vicky exclaimed.


    Tyson walked up and gave her a hug and a kiss. The familiar warmth of her embrace was a welcome comfort. She had spent the last several weeks impersonating Darth Malak.


    "Missed you," he said.


    "I missed you too," she replied.


    "How''s leading the Sith?"


    Vicky shrugged. "Same as always, minor skirmishes, nothing of note..." She paused, a mischievous glint in her eye. "Except I have something for you."


    Tyson raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "Oh?"


    "That Interdictor you wanted!" Vicky announced excitedly.


    Tyson''s face lit up with a broad smile. "You got me a new ship!"


    "I saw the Narada. The ship I have for you is a little more inconspicuous, as far as warships go anyway." They both laughed. "I just wanted to pop by and let you know about the ship. It''s docked at the station. And your Sith Interceptor is in the hangar bay."


    Tyson''s mind raced with possibilities. Interdictor-class ships were formidable. Capable of pulling ships out of hyperspace and controlling the battlefield. The tactical advantages it offered were immense.


    "Thanks, Vicky," Tyson said gratefully.


    She stepped back, and a portal shimmering into existence behind her. With a final wink, she disappeared through it, leaving Tyson alone once more in the control room. He quickly opened a portal back to the Automated Repair Facility. Stepping through, his eyes were immediately drawn to the new ship docked on the opposite side from the Narada.


    The Interdictor''s angular design contrasted sharply with the organic, urchin-like appearance of the Narada. Where the Narada was all curves and protrusions, the Interdictor was sharp lines and aggressive angles.


    Tyson made his way across the station, approaching the Interdictor''s airlock. The interior was pristine. The corridors were wide and had a typical utilitarian design. Tyson navigated the ship easily since the layout was similar to the Leviathan. The bridge was spacious, with a raised command platform overlooking several crew stations. The viewports offered a panoramic view of space.


    He couldn''t hold back his smile.


    This would be his primary vessel within this universe, while the Narada would be reserved for eventual use in the Star Trek universe and, ultimately, maybe both once he settled on the upgrades he''d apply.


    That was the plan, at least for now.


    Settling into the captain''s chair, he ran his hands over the controls. He pulled up the ship''s manifest, confirming Vicky''s words. The vessel was empty, save for his Sith Interceptor in the hangar bay. No crew, no unnecessary supplies, no additional fighters or shuttles. It was a blank slate. Tyson pulled up his HUD, scrolling through his available Ship Points. He had enough to make some initial improvements to the Interdictor, though it wouldn''t need much. The ship was already a formidable war machine for this galaxy, and he''d save most of his Ship Points for the Narada.


    [Free] Import (Spaceships)


    Instead of choosing a Ship Type and Size for purchase, import one space-worthy vessel you already own. Its default Section Size and Rating are that of a ship of the corresponding size. At your choice, ship parts you buy can either replace pre-existing parts of the original ship or exist in addition to them.


    Interdictor Class Cruiser (Spaceships)


    This ship is among the most numerous capital ships seen in action by the Sith Armada during and after the Jedi Civil War. The primary weapons are turbo lasers, but is also armed with a Gravity Well projector, which interrupts hyperspace travel. It possesses deflector shields, an ion drive for sub-light maneuvering, and a hyperdrive.


    Decommission (Spaceship)


    Destroy this vessel. Decommissioned vessels do not self-destruct, they are absorbed by the system. In return, you are granted half of its value in Ship Points. Any living creatures on a vessel when decommissioned will be sent to your Personal Reality along with any CP-backed items. Non-CP-backed items will be destroyed.


    [300 SP] Ship Size Rating: III


    [100 SP] Artificial Gravity


    [100 SP] Hangar


    [300 SP] Hyperdrive


    [50 SP] Fusion Reactor


    [50 SP] Navigation Suite


    [50 SP] Point Defense


    [100 SP] Deflector Shields


    [100 SP] Jump Suppression Field


    [50 SP] Beam Weapons (Turbolasers)


    Total Adjusted Decommission Value: 0 SP


    Unsurprisingly, the Interdictor was worth no ship points. The ship had been made by the Star Forge, a facility he already decommissioned. If it was that simple, he could just use the Automated Repair Facility to create ships to be decommissioned for additional points continuously.


    He considered his options carefully. The biggest weakness of the ship was that it was designed to be crewed by several thousand.


    [100 SP] Follower Crew (Spaceships)


    Your ship can, at your choice, be automatically manned by generic crew members in color-coded overalls or jumpsuits in a futuristic design comprised of the various sapient species in this jump.


    Ship Points: 2650


    Tyson made the purchase, and suddenly, the bridge doors opened, and Sith troopers began streaming in, taking their stations. The once-empty bridge came alive with activity as the silver-armored figures efficiently moved to their posts.


    "Status report," Tyson commanded, testing the responsiveness of his new crew.


    "All systems operational, Lord Typhon," a trooper at the helm responded promptly. "Awaiting your orders."


    Tyson nodded, pleased with the immediate response. The best part of a follower crew created by the system was that they''d be completely loyal to him. He''d never have to worry about them disobeying or questioning his orders. But on the flip side, they''d never offer opposing opinions that had merit or do more than baseline duties. No going above and beyond. He watched as the crew worked. They operated the ship''s systems efficiently, but there was a certain mechanical quality to their actions.


    One downside of the follower crew was that they couldn''t make command decisions; he needed to purchase Officers for that, and a single officer cost 50 SP.


    As he observed the crew more closely, Tyson noticed that while they wore the iconic Sith armor, it was purely cosmetic. The armor added no real protection, and having functional armor would cost an additional 200 SP. For now, he decided, the cosmetic appearance would suffice.


    Tyson didn''t think he''d need any other upgrades for the time being. The Interdictor was already a formidable vessel, and with its new crew, it was ready for action. Eager to utilize his new ship, he thought of where he could go or what he could do. His mind drifted back to his Personal Reality. He had the Menagerie and hadn''t added much to it. The Star Wars universe was filled with wondrous creatures, and one planet stood out in his mind as a good first stop.


    "Set a course for Tatooine," Tyson said aloud.


    Several of the follower crew responded in unison, "Yes, Lord Typhon."


    The navigator inputted the coordinates, and the helmsman prepared for the jump to hyperspace. Tyson felt a surge of excitement as the stars outside the viewport began to elongate.


    "Entering hyperspace in three... two... one," the helmsman announced.


    With a lurch, the Interdictor shot forward, the swirling blue tunnel of hyperspace enveloping the ship.


    ¡ª Star Jumper ¡ª


    Tyson eased the Sith Interceptor out of the Interdictor''s hangar bay. The ship''s comm system crackled to life as he entered Tatooine''s upper atmosphere.


    "Greeting Sith ship, this is the Protocol Officer for the Czerka Corporation. We tried contacting the cruiser in orbit, and they routed us to you, claiming you were the ranking officer."


    Tyson keyed the comm, his voice dropping an octave as he assumed the role of a Sith apprentice.


    "This is Darth Typhon, apprentice to Lord Malak."


    The protocol officer''s voice sputtered, clearly caught off guard. "Lord Typhon, I beg your forgiveness. Czerka was unaware any Sith representatives were heading to Tatooine. We heard about the problems surrounding Taris and would like to cooperate in any way possible to avoid any misunderstandings."


    Tyson''s lips widened into a grin. The Interdictor''s presence in orbit was already paying dividends, ensuring a level of compliance he might not have otherwise enjoyed. He decided to play up his fabricated persona.


    "I''m coming to the surface for leisure," Tyson drawled. "I intend to do some hunting. I assume there will be no issues."


    "Lord Typhon, I''m sending you the coordinates of Anchorhead. It''s where our main base is located, and we''d be happy to host you," the officer replied, his tone now deferential. "We recommend landing in the spaceport instead of flying over the dune sea searching for large game. Giving hunting licenses is part of Czerka''s purview, and several big-game species will go to ground when sensing starships approaching. It''s what makes hunting them difficult. Hunting licenses are restricted, but we would happily provide you with one."


    Tyson considered the offer. It would be easier to blend in and gather information if he played along with the local authorities. "Very well," he conceded.


    "We look forward to hosting you," the officer concluded, his relief evident in his voice.


    Tyson followed the transmitted coordinates, guiding his Interceptor through Tatooine''s atmosphere. The planet''s endless expanse of sand stretched out below him, broken only by rock formations or the occasional settlement. As he approached Anchorhead, the spaceport came into view, a collection of weathered buildings and landing pads nestled against the backdrop of rolling dunes. He set the Interceptor down gently on one of the vacant landing pads, kicking up a swirl of sand. As the engines powered down, Tyson took a moment to survey his surroundings through the cockpit viewport. The spaceport was busier than he''d expected, with various freighters and personal craft occupying the other bays.


    One ship, in particular, caught his eye. Its design was unmistakable.


    The Ebon Hawk.


    Tyson''s eyes narrowed as he contemplated this unexpected development. The presence of the Ebon Hawk could only mean one thing.


    Revan and likely Bastila were on Tatooine.


    He''d known the events of the Knights of the Old Republic games were unfolding in this reality, but he hadn''t expected to cross paths with the protagonists again so soon. The last he''d seen them had been when they escaped Taris, heading for Dantooine.


    As he powered down the ship''s systems, Tyson considered the implications. He''d have to tread carefully. He willed his Gray Goo Suit to take the appearance of Mandalorian armor. It would fit the hunter motif and would be recognizable by ''Avner''s'' group.


    Lowering the ship''s ramp, he stepped out onto Tatooine''s surface. The heat hit him, the air shimmering with mirages even in the spaceport''s relative shade. But his suit protected him from any discomfort the temperature would have caused. Sand crunched beneath his boots as he made his way towards the spaceport''s main building.


    A Czerka official, likely the protocol officer he''d spoken with earlier, hurried to meet him. The man was sweating profusely, whether from the heat or nervousness, Tyson couldn''t tell.


    "Lord Typhon," the official said, bowing deeply. "Welcome to Anchorhead. I trust your journey was pleasant?"


    Tyson nodded curtly, adopting his best Sith demeanor. "It was adequate. Now, about that hunting license..."


    "Of course, of course," the official stammered. "If you''ll follow me to our offices, we can process that for you immediately. We''ve also prepared a briefing on the local wildlife and terrain. Hunting on Tatooine can be quite dangerous for the unprepared."


    As they walked, Tyson''s gaze wandered back to the Ebon Hawk. He saw no sign of its crew. They were likely already in Anchorhead, perhaps pursuing their own objectives.


    "Tell me," Tyson said, turning back to the official, "have there been any... interesting visitors to Anchorhead recently?"


    The official hesitated, clearly unsure of how much information to divulge. "We''ve had the usual traders and moisture farmers, my lord. There was a group of Republic citizens who arrived recently, but they''ve caused no trouble."


    Tyson nodded, filing away the information. They reached the Czerka offices, a squat, sand-colored building that looked like it had been hewn from the desert. "Please, have a seat, Lord Typhon," the official said, gesturing to a chair in front of a worn desk. "I''ll fetch the necessary paperwork for your hunting license right away."


    As the official scurried off, Tyson took a moment to reflect. He was on Tatooine. The Ebon Hawk was docked nearby. And here he was, about to embark on a hunting expedition under the guise of the apprentice to the Sith Lord.


    Tyson couldn''t help but chuckle at the absurdity of it all. He''d come to Tatooine on a whim, and it seemed the Force¡­ or maybe Q had decided to oblige him in ways he couldn''t have anticipated. As he waited for the official to return, Tyson began to formulate a plan. He would get his hunting license, yes, but he would also keep a close eye out for Revan and his companions.


    The official returned with a stack of datapads in his arms. "Here we are, Lord Typhon. If you review and sign these forms, we can issue your hunting license immediately."


    "You mentioned that hunting licenses are restricted. Have you issued many recently?"


    The official paused, his hand hovering over the datapad. He glanced nervously at Tyson, clearly weighing his words carefully.


    "There was one group that received licensure recently," he admitted. "Czerka Corporation allowed them to enter the Dune Sea on the condition that they stop the Sand People raids, bringing their gaffi sticks and particularly the chieftain''s gaffi stick as proof." He wiped his brow with a handkerchief. "The Sand People have been interfering in our mining operations for months."


    Tyson nodded, his face impassive behind his Mandalorian helmet. It was likely Revan and his companions. They would be out there, negotiating with or fighting the Sand People. He wondered how far along they were in their mission.


    "I see," Tyson said, his modulated voice betraying no emotion. "And these... raiders. They pose a significant threat?"


    The official nodded vigorously. "Oh yes, Lord Typhon. They''ve been attacking our sandcrawlers, disrupting supply lines. It''s been quite troublesome for our operations."


    Tyson tapped his fingers on the desk, considering. Since he was aware of their presence, he could use this situation to his advantage and cross paths with or avoid Revan''s group.


    "And what of other hunting opportunities?" Tyson asked, feigning casual interest.


    The Protocol Officer perked up at this, seemingly eager to change the subject. "If you''re searching for big game, there are reports of a Krayt Dragon in the Eastern Dune Sea. Krayt Dragons are rare and extremely dangerous, but I''m sure it''s not a problem for someone of your station."


    A Krayt Dragon. Now, that would be a worthy addition to the Menagerie.


    "Tell me more," Tyson prompted, his interest genuine now.


    The official seemed relieved to be on safer ground. "They''re massive creatures, my lord. This one has been terrorizing the Eastern Dune Sea for years. Many hunters have tried to bring it down, but none have succeeded." He paused, then added with a nervous chuckle, "Some say it guards great treasures in its lair, but that''s just local legend, of course."


    Tyson nodded slowly. "Of course," he echoed, "And where exactly in the Eastern Dune Sea has this dragon been sighted?"


    The official pulled up a map on his datapad, pointing to a region marked with warning symbols. "Here, my lord. Near the Jundland Wastes. But I must warn you, it''s treacherous terrain. Sand People territory."


    "I''m not concerned about Sand People," Tyson said dismissively. He leaned forward, examining the map closely.


    "I''ll take that hunting license now. And I''ll need detailed maps of the Eastern Dune Sea. Provide me with any additional information you have on the Krayt Dragon''s habits and territory, as well as any other fauna, large or small."


    The official nodded eagerly, clearly relieved that Tyson seemed interested in the dragon rather than the Sand People situation. "Of course, Lord Typhon. I''ll gather everything we have immediately."


    ¡ª Star Jumper ¡ª


    Tyson leaned forward on the speeder bike, the wind whipping past his Mandalorian helmet as he raced across the sun-baked dunes of Tatooine. The Czerka Corporation had been falling over themselves to accommodate him, even loaning him this top-of-the-line speeder bike to traverse the harsh terrain. He had to admit it had significantly cut down his travel time. As he crested a particularly large dune, Tyson caught sight of a herd of Dewbacks in the distance. The large, reptilian creatures were lumbering across the sand, their thick hides glistening under the twin suns. Tyson slowed the speeder bike, bringing it to a halt atop the dune. He watched the Dewbacks for a moment, considering.


    With a thought, Tyson opened a large portal directly in the path of the Dewback herd. The shimmering gateway led to the expansive desert environment within his Mystical Menagerie. He gunned the speeder bike''s engine, circling wide around the herd. The Dewbacks, startled by the sudden appearance of the fast-moving vehicle, began to lumber faster, their powerful legs kicking up sand. He used the speeder bike to herd the Dewbacks, much like a shepherd might use a dog to guide sheep. He weaved back and forth behind the creatures, slowly but surely driving them towards the portal. The lead Dewback, a particularly large specimen, hesitated at the edge of the shimmering gateway. Tyson gave a gentle push with the Force, and the creature stumbled forward, disappearing into the portal with a surprised bellow. The rest of the herd followed. Their instinct to stay together overrode their fear. One by one, the Dewbacks vanished into the portal until the last tail disappeared from view. Tyson closed the portal with a satisfied nod, then revved the speeder bike''s engine and continued on his journey.


    As he sped across the desert, Tyson''s keen eyes spotted movement in the sand. Womp rats, the ubiquitous pests of Tatooine, scurried about. Tyson began opening small portals directly in the path of the rodents.


    One moment, a womp rat would be scampering across the sand, and the next, it would vanish through a shimmering hole in the air. He made a game of seeing how many he could catch without slowing his speeder bike, opening a portal at just the right moment to catch the unsuspecting creatures. By the time he''d crossed the stretch of desert, He''d sent dozens of womp rats tumbling into his Menagerie. He grinned behind his helmet, imagining the confused rodents finding themselves in a new desert.


    Tyson heard a haunting howl echo across the desert. He slowed the speeder bike, his senses on high alert. The howl came again, closer this time, accompanied by several others. Ivy updated his HUD, streaming information about the predators.


    Anoobas.


    He read the information Czerka provided about these vicious predators. They were Canine-like desert mammals known for their ferocity and pack-hunting tactics. He brought the speeder bike to a stop and dismounted, his hand resting on his lightsaber hilt. From behind a nearby rock formation, the Anooba pack emerged. Their gray fur was matted with sand, and their distinctive lower jaws, complete with chin tusks, gave them a fearsome appearance. The lead Anooba, larger than the others, fixed Tyson with its piercing gaze and let out a low growl.


    Tyson stood his ground, reaching out with the Force to sense the pack''s intentions. They were hungry, desperate. To them, Tyson looked like a potential meal.


    The pack began to spread out, attempting to flank him. Tyson acted fast; he wasn''t worried about the threat they posed, but he wanted to make their acquisition easier. He opened a large portal behind the pack, the shimmering gateway revealing a glimpse of his Menagerie''s desert. The Anoobas hesitated, confused by the sudden appearance of the portal.


    Seizing the moment, Tyson reached out with the Force, creating a powerful push that sent the nearest Anooba tumbling backward through the portal. The creature yelped in surprise as it vanished from view.


    This spurred the rest of the pack into action. They charged at Tyson, their powerful legs eating up the distance between them. But Tyson was ready. He used the Force to lift two more Anoobas into the air, their legs scrambling uselessly as he guided them through the portal.


    The remaining Anoobas, including the pack leader, circled Tyson warily. He opened a pair of large portals behind both him and the pack. As the Anoobas lunged, he used precise Force pushes to guide them into the portals. One Anooba leapt at him, jaws snapping, only to find itself suddenly falling through empty air into the Menagerie. The pack leader, seeing its companions disappearing one by one, let out a furious howl and charged directly at Tyson. Tyson waited until the last moment, then sidestepped, using the Force to guide the Anooba''s momentum. The creature''s eyes widened in surprise as it found itself running straight through a portal.


    The desert was silent once more, the only sound the gentle hum of his speeder bike''s idling engine. As he mounted the bike, Tyson couldn''t help but feel a sense of satisfaction. In just one day, he had added a herd of Dewbacks, countless womp rats, and a pack of fierce Anoobas to his collection. And he wasn''t done yet. The Krayt Dragon was still out there.


    Tyson revved the speeder bike''s engine and set off once more across the desert under the twin suns of Tatooine. He''d hunted enough for now and made a beeline for the Krayt Dragon''s location.


    The twin suns of Tatooine beat down mercilessly as Tyson arrived at a large cave where the Krayt Dragon was suspected to be. Several speeder bikes were parked nearby. A Twi''lek and another man stood closer to the cave entrance, engaged in what appeared to be a heated discussion.


    As Tyson dismounted his speeder bike, he noticed another hunter standing perilously close to the mouth of the cave to the northeast. The man''s posture radiated impatience and bravado.


    "I''m tired of waiting, Komad," the hunter called out, his voice echoing across the barren terrain. "How big can this dragon of yours be? I''m going in!"


    Before anyone could react, the hunter took a few steps into the cave. Suddenly, a bone-chilling roar reverberated through the air, followed by the hunter''s terrified scream.


    "AAAAHHHHHHH!!!"


    The scream was cut short, leaving an eerie silence in its wake. Tyson shook his head at the foolishness of the hunter''s actions. Even from this distance, he could clearly see the massive form of the Krayt Dragon curled up within the cave. Its massive head was easily the size of a landspeeder.


    Tyson approached the Twi''lek and the other man, his Mandalorian armor clanking softly with each step. The Twi''lek''s eyes widened as he took in Tyson''s appearance.


    "Ah, another hunter, I see," the Twi''lek said, his lekku twitching with interest. "You must be here for the Krayt Dragon as well. I''m Komad Fortuna. Perhaps you''d be willing to help us bait the beast out of its lair?"


    "I don''t need to bait it out," he replied, his voice modulated through the helmet''s speaker.


    Komad''s brow furrowed in confusion. "But that''s the only way," he insisted. "We need to tempt it with banthas. It''s the safest method to lure it out without risking our lives."


    Tyson considered Komad''s words. The man was clearly an experienced hunter, and his knowledge of the Krayt Dragon''s behavior could be valuable. Still, he began walking toward the cave, his stride purposeful and unhurried. Komad''s eyes widened in alarm.


    "Wait!" Komad called out, his voice tinged with panic. "Didn''t you see what happened to the other hunter? Getting close to that Dragon is suicide!"


    Tyson paused, turning to look back at Komad. The Twi''lek was right; the Krayt Dragon was a formidable beast. Even from this distance, Tyson could appreciate its sheer size and power. The dragon''s body stretched far back into the depths of the cave, its serpentine form coiled like a massive spring, ready to uncoil at any moment. Its scales were a patchwork of sandy browns and sun-bleached whites, providing perfect camouflage in the desert environment. The creature''s head alone was the size of the Sith Interceptor, with jaws that could easily snap a bantha in two. Its muscles rippled beneath its armored hide as it shifted slightly, causing small avalanches to cascade down its flanks.


    Tyson stood his ground, unfazed by the awesome sight before him. He had a plan, one that didn''t involve risking his life. With a thought, he opened a massive portal right near the front of the cave entrance. The shimmering gateway revealed a glimpse of his Menagerie, specifically the area where he had recently deposited the Dewback herd.


    Komad gasped in shock at the sudden appearance of the portal, but Tyson paid them no mind. He didn''t have any banthas, but he figured the Dewbacks might serve as an adequate substitute.


    The effect on the Krayt Dragon was immediate. The massive creature''s nostrils flared as it caught the scent of potential prey. Its eyes widened, focusing intently on the herd of Dewbacks visible through the portal. With an earth-shaking roar that sent tremors through the ground, the Krayt Dragon lunged forward. The dragon charged through the portal, its huge form barely fitting through the magical gateway. As soon as the tip of its tail cleared the portal''s edge, Tyson closed it with a thought, trapping the Krayt Dragon in his Menagerie.Love what you''re reading? Discover and support the author on the platform they originally published on.


    Silence fell over the desert landscape, broken only by the soft whisper of sand carried on the wind. Tyson turned to face Komad, who stood frozen in shock, their mouths agape.


    "That was... far easier than I expected," Tyson mused aloud, his modulated voice carrying a hint of amusement.


    Komad simply stared at Tyson, his lekku twitching erratically as he struggled to process what he had just witnessed. The Twi''lek opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out.


    With deliberate slowness, Tyson reached for his belt and unclipped his lightsaber. The metallic hilt gleamed in the harsh sunlight as he held it up for Komad to see.


    "Sith business," Tyson said simply.


    Komad''s eyes widened even further, if that was possible. He quickly raised his hands in a placating gesture, clearly not wanting to get on the bad side of a Sith.


    "Of... of course," Komad stammered, taking a step back. "I... I won''t interfere. Please, carry on with your... business."


    Tyson turned his attention to the now-empty cave. The Krayt Dragon''s absence left an eerie silence in its wake, broken only by the soft whisper of sand carried on the desert wind. He stepped into the cavernous opening, his boots crunching on the loose gravel and bone fragments that littered the ground.


    The cave''s interior was dimly lit, with shafts of sunlight filtering through cracks in the ceiling. He noticed the scattered remains of the dragon''s previous meals. Bones of various sizes and shapes were strewn about, some picked clean, others still bearing remnants of desiccated flesh. He moved closer, kneeling to examine what appeared to be tattered fabric. As he lifted a piece, realization dawned on him. These were the remains of Jedi robes, weathered and stained, but unmistakable in their design. It seemed a Jedi had fallen victim to the Krayt Dragon at some point in the past. He wondered about the circumstances that had brought a Jedi to this remote cave on Tatooine, only to meet such a grim fate.


    As he sifted through the remnants of the robes, Tyson found a holocron, but then also felt a sudden tug through the Force. Something among the remains was calling to him. He closed his eyes, letting his senses guide him. His hand moved of its own accord, brushing aside sand and fabric until his fingers closed around a small, hard object.


    Opening his eyes, he uncurled his fingers. There, nestled in his palm, was a crystal. Its deep purple hue seemed to pulse with an inner light, even in the dim confines of the cave. He knew instantly what it was.


    A lightsaber crystal.


    He turned the crystal over in his hand. It hummed with potential, resonating with the Force. He could feel its power.


    Tyson opened a portal into his Warehouse and stored the crystal and holocron within. He had no experience modifying his lightsaber, and the thought of incorporating this new crystal into his weapon was intriguing. Perhaps it could enhance his blade''s power, or grant it new properties he had yet to discover.


    As he made his way back towards the cave entrance, Tyson''s enhanced hearing picked up voices. He slowed his pace, moving silently to avoid drawing attention. The voices grew clearer as he neared the mouth of the cave.


    "...but it''s impossible!" Komad''s voice rang out, still disbelieving. "No one has ever taken down a Krayt Dragon single-handedly, let alone make it vanish into thin air!"


    Another voice, gruff and skeptical, responded. "Are you sure you''re not just trying to cover up a botched hunt, Fortuna? Maybe that Mandalorian was in on it from the start."


    Tyson inched closer to the entrance, careful to remain in the shadows as he listened.


    "I swear on my life, it happened just as I said," Komad insisted. "He opened some kind of... portal. The dragon went through, and then it was gone. And then he showed me his lightsaber. Said it was ''Sith business.''"


    A third voice chimed in. "A Sith? Here on Tatooine? That can''t be good news..."


    Tyson stepped out of the cave''s shadows. The group gathered near the entrance turned to face him, their expressions a mix of surprise and wariness. Revan, or "Avner" as he was currently known, stood at the forefront, flanked by the grizzled Mandalorian warrior Canderous Ordo and the Republic soldier Carth Onasi. The towering Wookiee Zaalbar loomed behind them. A fifth figure, clad in the distinctive wrappings of a Tusken Raider, stood slightly apart from the others.


    Canderous snorted derisively. "That''s not a Sith, you backwater moron," he growled, his eyes narrowing as he assessed Tyson''s armor. "That''s a Mandalorian."


    Komad, the Twi''lek hunter, backed away nervously. "He claimed he was a Sith, I didn''t make that up," he said, his lekku twitching anxiously.


    Tyson retracted his helmet, revealing his face to the group. A wide, friendly smile crossed his face as he addressed them. "Avner, Carth, Big Z, good to see you all."


    Carth''s brow furrowed in confusion. "Tyson? What are you doing here?"


    "Hunting," Tyson replied casually, as if stumbling upon them in the middle of the Tatooine desert was an everyday occurrence. "What about you guys?"


    Avner stepped forward. "We''re searching for the star map," he explained. "It should be in the cave."


    Tyson shrugged. "Oh, I didn''t look too deep in," he said, gesturing back towards the cave entrance.


    The figure in Tusken Raider garb stirred, their voice muffled by the mask but distinctly feminine. "That''s Tyson? The one from Taris?"


    Tyson squinted, a nagging sense of familiarity tugging at his mind. The voice wasn''t Bastila''s, as he''d initially assumed, but it struck a chord in his memory. He watched as the Tusken reached up and grasped her mask, slowly removing it to reveal green skin and strikingly beautiful features.


    "I''ve been looking forward to meeting you... again," she said, her voice rich with anticipation.


    Tyson''s eyes widened in recognition, and he immediately activated his helmet, sealing it shut. His Augment mind raced, recalling the woman''s identity in an instant.


    D''Lavina.


    The Orion woman he''d encountered during the Barter By Combat, just before he''d been pulled into the anomaly that brought him to the KOTOR universe.


    As D''Lavina continued to strip off her Tusken Raider disguise, Tyson''s mind worked furiously, connecting the dots. He glanced at the party around her¡­


    All men.


    The realization hit him. She was manipulating them with her pheromones. She was the Mary Sue, the product of the Drawback that was attempting to weave her way into the narrative and bend him to her will.


    D''Lavina, now wearing very little, her green skin glistening with sweat under Tatooine''s twin suns, smiled invitingly at Tyson. "I''m so glad we ran into you," she purred, her voice dripping with seduction. "Why don''t you come over here, and we can talk about what''s been happening since you all split?"


    She was trying to pull him into her harem.


    To manipulate him as she had the others.


    He could see the glazed look in Carth''s eyes. Even Zaalbar, despite his species'' differences, appeared more placid than usual. Avner, or rather Revan, powerful as he may be, was not immune to the Orion''s pheromones.


    Tyson shook his head firmly. "Nope," he said through the helmet''s modulator.


    D''Lavina''s smile faltered for a moment, a flicker of annoyance crossing her features before she smoothed it away. "Come now, Tyson," she coaxed, taking a step towards him. "Don''t you want to catch up with old friends? We have so much to discuss."


    Tyson stood his ground, grateful for the helmet''s filtration system that protected him from her pheromones. He could see the effect she was having on the others, the way they seemed to lean towards her as if drawn by an invisible force.


    "I don''t think we have anything to discuss," he replied coolly.


    D''Lavina''s expression hardened, her alluring smile transforming into a scowl. "You''re being very rude," she said, her voice losing some of its silky quality. "I thought we parted on better terms than this."


    "We parted in the middle of a fight," Tyson reminded her. "And I''m not interested in picking up where we left off."


    Carth shook his head as if trying to clear it. "What''s going on?" he muttered, looking confused. "How do you two know each other?"


    Before Tyson could respond, D''Lavina stepped forward, placing a hand on Carth''s arm. "It''s nothing to worry about, dear," she said soothingly. "Tyson''s just a bit confused. Why don''t we all go into the cave and look for that star map?"


    Tyson tensed, realizing her plan. If she could get them all into the confined space of the cave, her pheromones would be even more effective. He had to act fast.


    His eyes darted to the side, taking in the group''s transportation. A trio of massive banthas stood placidly nearby, their shaggy fur rippling in the hot desert breeze. Closer were the three speeder bikes; two belonging to the hunters, and the third his own borrowed vehicle.


    With a subtle gesture, Tyson opened two portals. One shimmered into existence near the banthas, a gateway to his Mystical Menagerie. The other, barely visible, materialized beneath the speeder bikes leading to his Warehouse.


    D''Lavina''s voice dripped with false concern. "It must be true," she proclaimed, her eyes fixed on Tyson. "He''s turned to the dark side and joined the Sith. It''s up to us to help him return to the light... by my side."


    Tyson felt a surge of irritation at her manipulative words. Drawing deeply on the Force, he gathered his power, feeling it build within him like a gathering storm.


    With a sudden, explosive motion, Tyson released a massive Force push. The energy radiated outward from him in an invisible wave, rippling through the air. The group tensed, bracing themselves for impact, but Tyson''s target lay elsewhere.


    The banthas, caught off guard by the sudden burst of Force energy, stumbled backward. Their massive bodies shifted just enough to cross the threshold of the portal to the Mystical Menagerie. At the same moment, the speeder bikes teetered on the edge of their own portal before toppling into the Warehouse below.


    In the blink of an eye, Tyson closed both portals, cutting off any chance of easy pursuit. He spun on his heel, sprinting back towards the Krayt Dragon''s cave. The sound of startled shouts erupted behind him as the group realized what had happened.


    "After him!" D''Lavina''s voice rang out, tinged with fury.


    Tyson didn''t dare look back. He didn''t fancy testing his chances against this particular group. A seasoned Mandalorian warrior, a skilled Republic soldier, a powerful ex-Sith Lord, and an Orion woman with Jedi training and the plot armor of a Mary Sue. Not to mention the Wookiee''s raw strength.


    As he ran, Tyson reached out to the Force once more, using it to enhance his speed. His legs pumped faster, eating up the distance between him and the cave entrance. The harsh Tatooine landscape blurred around him as he pushed his body to its limits.


    Behind him, he could hear the sounds of pursuit. The crunch of boots on the sand, the clatter of armor, and the labored breathing of his pursuers grew fainter as he widened the gap between them.


    Tyson burst into the cave, not slowing down. As he rounded a corner, he spotted what the other group was seeking.


    The Star Map.


    He pulled out his Lightsaber and Laser Blade and sliced through the artifact, turning it into slag in seconds.


    With a Force-assisted leap, he propelled himself upward, landing silently in a hidden nook above. He pressed himself against the cool stone, controlling his breathing as he listened intently. With a thought, he opened a portal directly behind him, revealing a glimpse of the frozen, icy environment of his Menagerie within his Personal Reality.


    Just as he was about to enter, a voice called out behind him.


    "Stop right there!"


    Tyson turned to see D''Lavina standing at the mouth of the tunnel. Her lightsaber was ignited, casting an eerie glow on the cave walls. Her eyes blazed with anger, but beyond that, he could sense her desire through his empathy.


    "You can''t run from me forever, Tyson," she said, taking a step forward. "We''re destined to be together. I''ve seen it in a vision granted by the Force."


    Tyson shook his head, backing towards the portal. "Didn''t anyone ever tell you, lady? No means no."


    D''Lavina''s face contorted with rage. She raised her lightsaber and charged forward.


    But with a final step backward, he passed through the portal. The last thing he saw before closing it was D''Lavina''s furious expression as she reached the spot where he had stood moments before.


    Tyson emerged into the frigid landscape of his Menagerie''s ice environment. Without missing a beat, he opened another portal, this time stepping into the Control Room of his Personal Reality.


    Tyson let out his breath. He''d escaped a Mary Sue. As his heartbeat slowed back to normal, his frustration boiled over, and he shouted.


    "That''s not funny, Q!"


    In response, boisterous, mocking laughter radiated from everywhere and nowhere at once. The sound seemed to permeate the very air around him, a reminder of the omnipotent being''s penchant for chaos.


    Tyson huffed in frustration. But as the absurdity of the situation sank in, he found himself chuckling, shaking his head in disbelief. It was fucking ridiculous, he had to admit. Objectively, it was somewhat funny. An all-powerful Orion woman chasing him across the galaxy, determined to add him to her harem? It sounded like the plot of a terrible Star Trek episode.


    Still chuckling, Tyson pulled up his character sheet on his HUD. He scrolled through the information until he found the Drawback section, rereading exactly what he was dealing with.


    [+400 CP] Mary Sue (Drawback)


    They are ridiculously overpowered and have overwhelming plot armor. Their goals & actions directly oppose yours. What''s more, they know about you and believe that if they "befriend" you hard enough, you can be redeemed and join their harem.


    Tyson read through the description carefully. The Drawback didn''t say anything about not being able to beat them or kill them. It just stated they were overpowered and had plot armor. The value of the Drawback gave him pause. 400 CP was a significant amount, indicating that this wouldn''t be an easy obstacle to overcome. D''Lavina wouldn''t go down without a fight, and her "plot armor" would likely throw unexpected complications his way.


    But Tyson allowed himself a small smile. He had already gained an advantage by taking out the Star Map and stranding the group in the desert. The Star Maps led to the Lehon System, where he''d replace the Star Forge with the Automated Repair Facility. Without the maps, they wouldn''t be able to find its location. Sure, D''Lavina might find another way, given her plot armor, but his actions had bought him some time to get ahead of her and plan his next move.


    Decision made, Tyson opened a new portal. The shimmering gateway revealed the dusty spaceport within Anchorhead, back on Tatooine. The Sith Interceptor sat where he had left it. Tyson approached the ship,circling to the cockpit. Not wasting any time, he climbed into the pilot''s seat. With a thought, he opened another portal directly in front of the Interceptor into the hangar bay of the Interdictor. Tyson engaged the Interceptor''s engines, guiding the craft through the portal into the hangar bay, touching down with barely a sound. As soon as the landing gear locked into place, Tyson was out of the cockpit.


    He jogged across the hangar bay. Reaching the portal, he went back through to Anchorhead. Quickly making his way to where he''d seen the Ebon Hawk.


    The familiar dynamic-class freighter loomed before him. If he could steal the Ebon Hawk, it would throw a major wrench in whatever chaos D''Lavina''s presence would bring.


    As he neared the ship''s boarding ramp, Tyson paused. He reached out with his senses, probing the area for any signs of danger or unwanted observers. The Force flowed around him, carrying whispers of the bustling spaceport and lives within the ship, but nothing that set off alarm bells.


    Satisfied that he wasn''t walking into a trap, Tyson started up the ramp.


    Stepping into the main hold, he was caught off guard by the sight before him. Bastila Shan stood rigid and alert. Beside her, the young Twi''lek Mission Vao lounged in a chair, her feet propped up on a nearby crate. Mission''s hand instinctively moved towards her blaster at the sight of the armored figure, but Tyson quickly retracted his helmet. Recognition dawned on her face, replaced by a broad grin.


    "Tyson!" Mission exclaimed, leaping from her seat. "I can''t believe it''s you!"


    Bastila''s reaction was more reserved, a slight nod acknowledging his presence. "Tyson," she said, her voice calm but tinged with curiosity. "This is... unexpected."


    Mission bounced on her heels, excitement radiating from her. "You won''t believe what''s happened since we last saw you! We made it to Dantooine, and Avner and D''Lavina trained as Jedi. It was wild!"


    At the mention of D''Lavina, Tyson''s eyes narrowed. Mission caught his expression and lowered her voice. "Between you and me, I don''t trust that D''Lavina woman. There''s something... off about her."


    Bastila shifted uncomfortably, but after a moment''s hesitation, she nodded. "I... find myself in agreement with Mission, as unusual as that may be. D''Lavina''s actions have been... questionable."


    Tyson''s jaw set in a grim line. "She''s manipulating the others," he said flatly. "We need to get away from her. We should get off this planet," he continued, his voice urgent. "The sooner, the better."


    Mission''s face fell, and her lekku twitched nervously. "We can''t leave yet," she protested. "My brother is here somewhere. I know he is."


    Tyson sighed, mentally calculating how much time they had before D''Lavina and the others might catch up. The situation was growing more complicated by the minute.


    Bastila cleared her throat. "I, too, have family here," she admitted.


    Tyson puckered his lips, weighing their options. After a moment, he nodded. "Alright then. Speedrun it is. Let''s go," he said, gesturing towards the exit.


    He led Mission and Bastila out of the Ebon Hawk and through the dusty streets of Anchorhead. The twin suns beat down mercilessly as they made their way to the Czerka Corporation office. Inside, they approached the protocol officer, a harried-looking human who eyed them warily.


    "I''m looking for someone named Griff," Tyson said without preamble.


    The officer''s eyes darted nervously. "Griff? Uh... there''s no Griff here. Never heard of him. No, I... I don''t remember a single Griff on the Czerka Corporation payroll." he said, obviously lying.


    Tyson leaned in, his voice lowering dangerously. "Are you certain of that?"


    The officer''s resolve crumbled. "Oh, you mean that Twi''lek! It must have slipped my mind for a second. Yes, of course, I remember Griff." His words tumbled out in a rush. "We hired that Twi''lek some time ago. According to his crew chief, he is not a good worker, always complaining and faking injuries to get out of work. He entered false time sheets and slept through his shifts. We even suspected him of stealing Czerka Corporation supplies, although we could never prove it."


    Mission''s face fell, but she nodded resignedly. "Yes, that sounds like him."


    The officer pressed on. "We would''ve fired him, but we needed workers. It would have been better for him if he had been fired. Then the Sand People wouldn''t have gotten him."


    Tyson''s eyes narrowed. "The Sand People?"


    "He was lost in a Sand People raid we suffered not too long ago," the officer explained. "There were prisoners taken, but our rescue parties never found anyone alive. In the end, it just wasn''t cost-effective to keep searching. All miners sign a waiver absolving Czerka Corporation of liability in these circumstances."


    "So your workers are all expendable?" Tyson asked, his voice hard.


    The officer bristled. "Czerka Corporation cares deeply for all of its employees. That''s why we started a bounty program to thin the Sand People numbers. We didn''t find his body, so we have to assume he was taken prisoner. Whether he''s still alive, I couldn''t say. That''s all I can tell you. I shouldn''t even have said this much; this is all privileged corporate information. I could lose my job!"


    Tyson leaned in. "Is there some type of reward for saving him?"


    The officer shook his head. "As I said, all employees have signed waivers absolving Czerka Corporation of any financial liability if this occurs. It is the industry standard."


    Mission''s eyes flashed with anger. "Those sand people took my brother prisoner! Griff may be a slime, but we have to go rescue him! We can''t just leave him with those... those... those monsters!"


    Tyson placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "Don''t worry, Mission. We''ll get him back."


    Mission''s face lit up. "I knew I could count on you! There are definite fringe benefits to being friends with a Jedi!"


    Bastila nodded approvingly. "Already, you''re doing more good than D''Lavina. Let''s go."


    They rushed to the gates of Anchorhead, the urgency of their mission driving them forward. Once outside, Tyson opened a portal to his Warehouse. Mission and Bastila gasped as the shimmering gateway appeared before them.


    Inside the Warehouse, three speeder bikes sat ready. Tyson stepped up to one, and Mission and Bastila followed his lead, their eyes wide with wonder.


    Bastila shook her head in disbelief. "By the Force, how are you doing this?"


    Tyson mounted his speeder bike. "It''s not the Force," he explained quickly. "It''s closer to advanced technology, but there''s no time to explain now."


    They mounted up on the speeder bikes, and Tyson opened another portal, this time leading out into the Dune Sea, at the closest point to the Sand People Territory that he passed. The hot wind whipped past them as they sped across the desert, sand spraying in their wake. After a few minutes of intense riding, they spotted a group of figures in the distance, trudging towards Anchorhead on foot. As they drew closer, Tyson''s enhanced vision picked out details. They were refugees from the Sand People camp, their clothes tattered and their faces haggard from their ordeal. The scorching Tatooine suns beat down mercilessly as they approached the group of refugees. Among them, a disheveled Twi''lek stumbled forward. Mission''s eyes widened in recognition, a mixture of relief and trepidation crossing her face.


    "Griff, don''t you recognize me? It''s Mission!" she called out.


    The Twi''lek''s head snapped up, his eyes focusing on the young girl. "Mission? Is it really you? I heard Taris was under a Sith blockade! I thought you would never get off that planet!" A grin spread across his face, though it didn''t quite reach his eyes. "Joy of joys, my little sister is alive!"


    Mission dismounted from her speeder bike, taking a hesitant step toward her brother. Her hands fidgeted nervously as she spoke, "I... I have to ask you something, Griff. It''s important. I ran into Lena. She said... she said it was your idea to leave me on Taris. It''s not true, is it?"


    Griff''s smile faltered, and he rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. "Ah, well... there''s the truth, and then there''s the truth, you know? I always meant to go back to Taris, sis. Just as soon as I had the credits to pay off my debts. But credits have been hard to come by."


    Mission''s face fell. "You mean it''s true? It was your idea to leave me there? I''m your sister. How could you abandon me like that?"


    Griff shrugged. "Come on, sis. You didn''t need me to look after you anymore. You may have been young, but you knew how to take care of yourself. Besides, you''re here now. Everything worked out fine."


    Mission''s shock turned to anger, her lekku twitching with frustration. "That''s it? That''s all you have to say to me after all these years. After deserting me on Taris?"


    Griff''s eyes darted between Mission and Tyson, a calculating look crossing his face. "Well, that and uh... could you please get me back to town? You''ve got a tough-looking friend there to protect us and a speeder bike. And, uh, you look like you''re doing well. Financially, I mean." He paused, a sly grin spreading across his face. "Say... um... could you spare me a few credits to get back on my feet?"


    Mission''s eyes widened in disbelief. "You... you''re hitting me up for credits? I don''t believe this! I knew I shouldn''t have come looking for you!" Her voice cracked with emotion. "Don''t talk to me anymore. Ever!"


    As Mission stormed back to her speeder bike, Griff called after her, "Huh... that didn''t go well. Sis always was a little too fiery for her own good. She''ll cool down in time."


    "Don''t be so sure." Tyson said.


    Griff waved his hand dismissively. "Ah, she''ll be okay. We''ve had our fights before." His gaze shifted to Tyson, a hopeful glint in his eye. "Too bad, though. I could really have used a helping hand right now. Those Jedi may have saved my life, but I don''t have a single credit to my name. Say, you wouldn''t be able to spare me some credits? Just till I get back on my feet, you know?"


    Tyson regarded the Twi''lek for a moment before reaching into his pocket. "Sure. Here''s 100 credits."


    Griff''s face fell slightly as he accepted the small handful of credits. "That''s it, huh? Oh, figured you would be able to spare a bit more than that, but, you know, I''ll take whatever I can get." He pocketed the money with a shrug. "Don''t worry about me... I''ve already got a job waiting."


    Tyson turned away from Griff, focusing his attention on Mission and Bastila. With a gesture, he opened a portal ahead of them, leading back to his Warehouse. The three of them drove their speeder bikes through the gateway, leaving Griff and the other refugees behind in the scorching desert.


    Once inside the cool confines of the Warehouse, Tyson dismounted and approached Mission. Her shoulders were slumped, and she avoided eye contact. "Do you want to talk about your brother?" he asked gently.


    Mission shook her head, her voice tight with emotion. "Look, I''m happy Griff''s alive, but I''m mad at him right now. Let''s focus on something else, like Bastila''s family."


    Tyson respected her wish to change the subject. He turned to Bastila, who had been watching the exchange with a mix of sympathy and concern. With another gesture, Tyson opened a new portal, this time leading back to the Czerka office in Anchorhead.


    As they stepped through, Bastila spoke up, her voice tinged with a hint of nervousness. "If my mother is around here, she''s probably at the cantina."


    Without further discussion, the trio set off. The cantina''s entrance loomed before them, promising a respite from the heat and the possibility of answers for Bastila. As they approached the door, the sounds of music and raucous laughter spilled out into the street.


    Tyson hung back, allowing Bastila to take the lead, her eyes scanning the dimly lit cantina. The air was thick with smoke and the pungent smell of alien beverages. Conversations in various languages blended with the tinny sound of music from a battered jukebox in the corner. Bastila''s gaze locked onto a figure seated at a table in the northwest corner of the room.


    Without a word, she purposefully strode toward the table, Tyson and Mission following close behind. As they approached, Tyson could make out an older woman with graying hair and features that bore a striking resemblance to Bastila''s. The woman looked up, her eyes narrowing as she took in the sight of the approaching group.


    "Yes? I''m sorry, do I know you?" the woman asked, her voice tinged with a hint of suspicion.


    Bastila''s posture stiffened, her voice tight as she replied, "I am here, Mother. Or don''t you recognize me?"


    The woman''s eyes widened in surprise, then quickly narrowed again. "What do you expect when I haven''t so much as had a picture of you since you left? Do you know how long I''ve been trying to find you?"


    Bastila''s jaw clenched, her tone growing defensive. "You knew as well as I that communication would be impossible once I joined the order. Now, what is this about? Where is Father?"


    A flicker of pain crossed the older woman''s face. "Then you haven''t heard. I should have known."


    "Has something happened to him?" Bastila demanded, her composure slipping. "Are you going to tell me or not?"


    Helena''s voice was quiet but firm as she delivered the news. "Your Father is dead, Bastila. That is part of the reason why I was looking for you."


    Bastila recoiled as if she''d been struck. "Dead? What happened? What did you do to him?!"


    Helena''s eyes flashed with anger. "Isn''t this a lovely reunion? Already, she is flinging insults at me." She turned to Tyson, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "Tell me... you''re one of her friends. Do you treat your mother this way?"


    Tyson held up his hands, taking a step back. "This is between you two. I''m staying out of it."


    Helena let out a bitter laugh. "I''m sure Bastila feels the same way you do. She would prefer to be left out of it, at least until I''m as dead as her father is."


    Bastila''s eyes narrowed, her voice cold. "I was told you were sick. Are you actually dying, or is this merely melodrama for my benefit?"


    "Such sweet things you say," Helena replied wearily. She let out a heavy sigh. "Perhaps I should tell you everything, first, before we start arguing again."


    "You could start by telling me what you got Father into that killed him," Bastila snapped.


    Helena''s patience seemed to wear thin. "I hadn''t realized Jedi were so spiteful. You want me to tell you I brought your father here for an expedition, do you? Do you want to blame me for his death? You never accepted that your father loved going on his treasure hunts, leaving you alone with me. I was always to blame for everything. What else is new?" Her voice rose as she continued, "So yes, fine. I brought your father here to look for krayt dragon pearls. He took an expedition into the Tatooine desert, and he died."


    Bastila''s voice wavered slightly. "How can you be sure of that? Father is an experienced--"


    Helena cut her off. "Do you think I would look for you if I wasn''t sure? They were attacked by a krayt dragon, and one of the guides fled the battle. He saw your father killed."


    The fight seemed to drain out of Bastila. "I... see. So what do you want from me? Credits?"


    Helena''s face twisted in disgust. "Don''t be insulting. I want you to use those senses of yours. I want you to find him. I want you to bring back his Holocron."


    "Why? So you can sell it?" Bastila accused.


    Helena''s voice softened slightly. "Is it too much to ask that I have something to remember your father by? Of course, it is, isn''t it? You couldn''t be bothered. I haven''t the coin to hire another expedition. Nor am I the adventurer my husband was."


    Tyson, who had been silently observing the exchange, finally spoke up. "What about your mother''s sickness? It doesn''t seem to have anything to do with what she''s asking. "


    Bastila turned to her mother, her voice uncertain. "Are you actually sick, Mother?"


    Helena waved her hand dismissively. "What difference does it make to you? None, I''m sure. Just find your father''s Holocron, and you won''t have to worry about me again either way."


    Tyson placed a hand on Bastila''s shoulder. "Can I talk to you privately for a moment?"


    Bastila nodded, following Tyson as he led her away from the table, out of sight and earshot of Helena. Once they were alone, Tyson turned to face her.


    "Bastila, I found the Krayt Dragon''s lair earlier," he said quietly.


    Bastila''s eyes widened in surprise, but before she could respond, Tyson reached behind his back. His hand disappeared through a small, shimmering portal that appeared out of thin air. When he withdrew his hand, he was holding a small, glowing cube, the Holocron.


    "Here," Tyson said, offering the device to Bastila. "I found this in the remains."


    Bastila stared at the Holocron, her hand trembling slightly as she reached out to take it.


    "Maybe you should listen to what your mother has to say."


    Bastila''s eyes flashed with frustration. "You don''t know her. My mother is notoriously deceptive when she wants something. Why should she have the Holocron?" She paused, her shoulders slumping as she let out a heavy sigh. "Alright, fine. I''ll do it. Because you honor my father''s memory by returning this."


    The older woman immediately went on the offensive as they returned to Helena''s table. "Is it too difficult to believe that I am a dying woman who simply wishes to see her husband one last time?"


    Bastila''s voice was cold as she replied, "I find it difficult to believe anything you say, Mother."


    Tyson stepped between them, his hands raised in a placating gesture. "Maybe one of you should be the first to give the other a break?"


    Bastila''s expression softened slightly. She took a deep breath, her voice calmer as she spoke. "You''re right. It shames me, but I just... I find it difficult to... let go of the past. I''m... sorry, Mother."


    Helena''s face crumpled, her own anger seeming to dissipate. "I was hard on you, dear. I wasn''t a very good mother to you, I know that. Your father loved you so much. He wanted you to be just like him... he wanted to take you on his hunts, but I said they were too dangerous. I always tried to keep him from the dangerous ones, but he would have none of it. It was a reckless life we led, always moving... I didn''t want that for you."


    "So that''s why you gave me to the Order?" Bastila asked.


    Helena nodded. "What do your father and I have to show for all those years of hunting? Nothing. That was no life for anyone, especially not someone as gifted as you. Your father... he spent all his last years trying to pay for my treatments. That''s why he went for the pearls. I begged him not to, but..."


    Bastila''s eyes widened in realization. "Your treatments."


    "I''m dying, Bastila," Helena admitted. "I did not lie about that. It''s been a long time in the coming, and there''s really nothing that can be done anymore. I told your father to let me go, but you know how he was. Stubborn. Like you."


    Tears welled up in Bastila''s eyes. "I''m so sorry, Mother. I don''t know what to say..."


    Helena reached out, gently taking her daughter''s hand. "Keep the holocron, Bastila. It would do me good to know you have it. This... talking to you... this is what I really needed before I..."


    "I know, Mother," Bastila said, squeezing her hand. "Thank you. I''m glad we talked, too."


    Helena turned her attention to Tyson, her eyes searching his face. "Well, now. You said you had important business, and you were never one to mince words. You there... you take care of my daughter, you hear me?"


    Tyson nodded solemnly. "I''ll do my best."


    A small smile crossed Helena''s face. "That''s good. I''ll feel a lot better knowing there''s someone to watch her."


    "Where are you going to go?" Bastila asked, concerned.


    Helena waved her hand dismissively. "It doesn''t matter, dear. Don''t you worry about me."


    Bastila reached into her pocket, pulling out a handful of credits. "Here. Take these 500 credits. It''s all I have. Go to Coruscant and find a doctor. I''ll meet you there after... after what I have to do."


    "But I already told you there''s nothing that can¡­" Helena began, but Bastila cut her off.


    "Please, take it. I... want to see you again. When we can talk."


    Tyson, who had been quietly observing the exchange, suddenly spoke up. "Wait. I can heal her."


    Bastila turned to him, her eyes wide with disbelief. "What do you mean?"


    "I have access to a Medical Bay that can heal nearly anything," Tyson explained.


    "Truly?" Bastila asked hopefully.


    Tyson nodded confidently. "Come with me."


    He led them through the bustling cantina, weaving between patrons and servers until they reached the door. Instead of opening it to reveal the scorching Tatooine desert, Tyson pulled out his Access Key. The door opened directly into his Medical Bay.


    The room was filled with advanced medical equipment that seemed to hum with energy. Several beds were occupied by the Tarellians, but there was an open bed that Tyson led Helena towards.


    Bastila hesitated, her hand on her mother''s arm. "It''s safe? You''re certain?"


    "Yes," Tyson assured her. "Less than a week, she''ll be in perfect health."


    Helena looked between her daughter and Tyson, a mix of hope and resignation in her eyes. "I don''t have much to lose." She turned to Bastila. "I''ll see you soon."


    With that, Helena settled onto the bed, the advanced medical systems already beginning to hum and scan her body. Bastila watched with hope and trepidation. Helena''s eyes fluttered closed, and her breathing steadied. The bed bathed her in a gentle blue light. Tyson watched for a moment, ensuring the treatment appropriately began, then turned to face Mission and Bastila.


    "Family matters settled?" he asked, his tone light but tinged with genuine concern. "We ready to blow this dust ball?"


    Mission''s face lit up, her lekku twitched with excitement. "Heck yeah! Let''s get out of here. I''ve had enough sand to last me a lifetime."


    Bastila, however, lingered by her mother''s bedside. Her usually sharp and focused eyes now held a mix of worry and hope as she watched Helena''s peaceful form. "Where will we go now?"


    Tyson''s lips curled into a small smile. "Why not stay here? It''s like a resort, and after what you guys have been through recently, it seems like you could use a break."


    Mission''s eyes widened, her voice incredulous. "A resort? Here?"


    "Yeah, check it out," Tyson said, gesturing towards the door. He led them out of the Medical Bay, the sterile environment giving way to something entirely unexpected. As they stepped through the doorway, warm sunlight washed over them. The air carried the salty tang of the sea mixed with the sweet fragrance of blooming flowers. Soft sand crunched beneath their feet, a far cry from the coarse grains of Tatooine.


    Before them stretched a pristine beach, its white sands meeting crystal-clear turquoise waters that sparkled under the sun. Palm trees swayed gently in the breeze, their fronds casting dappled shadows on the ground.


    Mission''s jaw dropped as she took in the scene. "Woah... This is... This is incredible! Where are we?"


    "Welcome to Crete," Tyson said. "Or at least, my version of it. Sure you''re sick of sand, Mission?"


    Bastila, usually composed, couldn''t hide her amazement. Her eyes darted from the pristine beach to the verdant hills, then back to Tyson. "How is this possible? We were just in a medical facility, and now..."


    "It''s a long story. But for now, let''s just say it''s a little pocket of paradise. A place to rest, recover, and prepare for whatever comes next."


    Mission had already kicked off her boots and was wiggling her toes in the warm sand. "This is amazing! Can we go swimming? Oh! Is there food? I''m starving!"


    "There''s all that and more," Tyson assured her. "Beaches, forests, mountains... There''s even a Housing Complex with rooms for each of you, stocked with food."


    Bastila, still processing the sudden change in environment, asked, "And my mother? She''ll be safe here while she recovers?"


    "Absolutely. You can visit her anytime you want."


    For the first time in what felt like ages, Bastila allowed herself to relax. A small smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. "I... thank you, Tyson. This is more than I could have hoped for."


    Mission, who had been bouncing on her toes with excitement, suddenly grabbed Bastila''s arm. "Come on! Let''s go explore! I want to see everything!"


    As Mission dragged a bemused Bastila towards the shoreline, Tyson watched them go.


    He stepped back through a shimmering portal, leaving the idyllic beach of Crete behind. He emerged onto the familiar deck of the Ebon Hawk. Without hesitation, he made his way to the cockpit, his footsteps echoing through the empty corridors. Settling into the pilot''s seat, his fingers danced across the controls, and the ship''s systems hummed to life.


    The Ebon Hawk lifted off smoothly, its engines purring as it rose above the dusty surface of Tatooine. A sense of relief washed over him as he left the desert world behind, knowing that Bastila and Mission were safe in his Personal Reality. As the ship broke through the desert planet''s atmosphere, the sky darkened to the inky black of space. Tyson''s eyes scanned the star-filled expanse, quickly locating the imposing silhouette of the Interdictor cruiser. He guided the Ebon Hawk towards the larger vessel.


    The Interdictor''s docking bay loomed before him, a cavernous maw of metal and light. Tyson eased the Ebon Hawk inside, the ship settling onto the deck with a gentle thud. As the engines powered down, he let out a long, slow breath.


    He''d done it.


    He''d gotten Bastila and Mission away from the group, leaving Revan and D''Lavina stranded on the planet below. For a moment, Tyson sat in silence, contemplating his next move. The thought of bombing the Dune Sea crossed his mind, but he quickly dismissed it. D''Lavina''s plot armor would likely protect her from such a direct assault. He''d need to be more creative and subtle in his approach to dealing with her.


    Shaking off these thoughts for now, Tyson stood and made his way out of the Ebon Hawk. As he stepped onto the deck of the Interdictor, he pulled out his Access Key. With a few quick gestures through his HUD, he initiated the process of importing the Ebon Hawk into his system, but he didn''t decommission the vessel. He felt it was worth more than the Ship Points it offered.


    [Free] Import (Spaceships)


    Instead of choosing a Ship Type and Size for purchase, import one space-worthy vessel you already own. Its default Section Size and Rating are that of a ship of the corresponding size. At your choice, ship parts you buy can either replace pre-existing parts of the original ship or exist in addition to them.


    Dynamic-Class Freighter: Ebon Hawk (Spaceships)


    This smuggler ship was a highly modified freighter that became well-known throughout the galaxy during the Jedi Civil War. It was believed to be in the top ten of the fastest ships in the galaxy during its time, as it was the fastest ship in the Outer Rim Territories.


    Decommission (Spaceship)


    Destroy this vessel. Decommissioned vessels do not self-destruct, they are absorbed by the system. In return, you are granted half of its value in Ship Points. Any living creatures on a vessel when decommissioned will be sent to your Personal Reality along with any CP-backed items. Non-CP-backed items will be destroyed.


    [0 SP] Ship Size Rating: I


    [100 SP] Artificial Gravity


    [300 SP] Hyperdrive


    [50 SP] Fusion Reactor


    [50 SP] Navigation Suite


    [50 SP] Beam Weapons (Turbolaser Turret)


    Total Adjusted Decommission Value: 275 SP


    Tyson strode through the corridors of the Interdictor. Crew members nodded respectfully as he passed, but he barely noticed them, his mind already focused on the next phase of his plan. He reached the bridge, the expansive viewscreen offering a panoramic view of the space around them. Tyson opened a massive portal in space.


    "Take us through," he commanded.


    The follower crew didn''t hesitate to execute his orders. The Interdictor''s engines thrummed with power as the massive ship moved forward, slipping through the portal, leaving Tatooine behind. He ordered the crew to dock with the Automated Repair Facility as the Interdictor emerged back into the Lehon system.


    A satisfied smile snuck onto Tyson''s face at having accomplished his immediate goals. Bastila and Mission were safe, and he had successfully escaped Tatooine, stranding his enemies and stealing the Ebon Hawk.


    He opened a final portal, this one much smaller. Just for him.


    It was time for him to return to the Enterprise.


    ¡ª Star Jumper ¡ª


    HK-47''s photoreceptors flickered on, casting an eerie red glow in the tiny storage area aboard the Ebon Hawk. The assassin droid''s processors whirred as he reached the bridge and assessed the situation.


    "Observation: It appears the Mandalorian meatbag has absconded with the master''s vessel. How inconvenient."


    The droid swiveled his head, scanning the empty ship. His metallic fingers tapped against the control panel, activating the Ebon Hawk''s sensors. "Analysis: We seem to be within the confines of an Interdictor-class cruiser''s hangar bay. Probability of Sith involvement: 98.7%. How delightfully perilous."


    The droid''s circuits buzzed with what could only be described as excitement. He stood, his joints whirring softly as he made his way to the ship''s exit ramp.


    "Statement: The master would be most pleased if I were to reclaim her property. It would be remiss of me not to attempt such a heroic feat."


    As HK-47 descended the ramp, he took in the bustling activity of the hangar bay. Crew members in Sith armor hurried about their tasks, paying no attention to the rust-red droid in their midst.


    "Amused observation: These meatbags seem particularly oblivious to my presence. Perhaps their cognitive functions are even more limited than the average organic."


    HK-47 strode purposefully across the hangar, his photoreceptors darting from side to side, analyzing potential threats and escape routes. Not a single crew member stopped him or questioned his presence.


    "Commentary: The security protocols on this vessel are laughably inadequate. It''s almost disappointing how easy this infiltration is proving to be."


    The droid made his way to a nearby computer terminal and accessed the ship''s schematics. The cruiser had gravity well projectors, and he''d need to disable those to allow the ship to escape. HK-47 memorized the route to the projector control room and set off, his metallic feet clanking against the deck plating. As he walked, he passed numerous crew members, none of whom gave him a second glance.


    "Incredulous statement: The level of incompetence displayed by these meatbags is truly staggering. I''m almost offended by the lack of challenge."


    As he approached a turbolift, two officers stepped out. HK-47 slipped in behind them, unnoticed.


    "Query: Which deck houses the gravity well projector controls, meatbags?"


    The officers turned. They exchanged confused glances before one of them hesitantly replied, "Deck 7, Section C."


    "Gratitude: Your cooperation is noted and appreciated. Rest assured, your deaths will be swift when the time comes."


    The officers'' didn''t respond before the turbolift doors closed, whisking HK-47 away to his destination.


    "Reflection: Perhaps I should have refrained from mentioning their impending demise. Old habits, as the meatbags say, expire with great difficulty."


    The turbolift doors opened on Deck 7, and HK-47 stepped out into a bustling corridor. He made his way to Section C, his sensors on high alert for any sign of suspicion from the crew. To his continued amazement, no one challenged his presence.


    "Commentary: These meatbags practically beg to be terminated."


    As HK-47 rounded a corner, he came face to face with a security checkpoint.


    "Statement: Greetings, meatbag sentries. I am here to perform routine maintenance on the gravity well projector controls. Please step aside and allow me to proceed with my assigned tasks."


    The guards exchanged glances, then shrugged. "Go ahead," one of them said, stepping aside. HK-47 strode past the checkpoint. He entered the control room, finding it mercifully empty of organic life forms. The assassin droid bypassed security protocols and accessed the core systems. With practiced efficiency, he began the process of disabling the gravity well projectors. As HK-47 worked, alarms suddenly blared throughout the ship. Red warning lights bathed the control room in an ominous glow.


    "Observation: It appears my actions have not gone unnoticed after all. How refreshing to encounter a modicum of competence, even if it arrives belatedly."


    The droid redoubled his efforts, his processors working at maximum capacity to complete the sabotage before security forces could arrive.


    "Exclamation: Success! The gravity well projectors are now useless."


    HK-47 turned away from the control panel, his photoreceptors scanning the room for an alternative exit. He spotted a ventilation shaft in the corner, just large enough for his frame.


    "Statement: While crawling through ducts is beneath my dignified programming, needs must, as it were."


    With a series of whirs and clanks, HK-47 removed the vent cover and hoisted himself into the shaft. As he began to crawl through the cramped space, he could hear the sound of booted feet approaching the control room. His metallic frame scraped against the narrow confines of the ventilation shaft as he navigated the Interdictor''s innards. The droid''s photoreceptors cast an eerie red glow in the darkness, illuminating the dust and cobwebs that clung to the duct''s interior. After several minutes of navigating the labyrinthine network of shafts, HK-47''s sensors detected a significant energy signature nearby.


    "Exclamation: Ah, the fusion reactor! What a tempting target."


    The assassin droid carefully removed a ventilation grate. He made his way to the reactor room''s entrance. The door slid open with a soft hiss, revealing the massive fusion reactor that powered the entire ship.


    "Observation: Such an impressive feat of engineering. It would be a shame if something were to... happen to it."


    HK-47''s chest panel opened, revealing a hidden compartment. With delicate precision, he extracted several plasma charges, each one capable of unleashing devastating energy.


    "Statement: Always be prepared, as the meatbags say."


    The droid placed the charges at strategic points. His calculations ensured maximum damage. He set a timer. After all, he still needed the ship intact long enough to make his escape. With the charges in place, HK-47 retraced his steps to the ventilation shaft. He pulled himself back into the duct, navigating the ventilation system once more, this time making his way toward the hangar bay. Finally, the droid removed the vent cover and dropped down into the hangar bay, his metallic frame clanging against the deck. The chaos around him provided the perfect cover as he made his way toward the Ebon Hawk.


    Scaling the ramp, the assassin droid boarded the ship and settled into the pilot''s seat. He brought the ship''s systems online. The engines hummed to life, a sound that seemed to go unnoticed amidst the cacophony of alarms. With a flick of a switch, the droid raised the entry ramp, then manipulated the controls, lifting the Ebon Hawk off the hangar deck.


    "Exclamation: Farewell, meatbags! Your failure will be recounted with great amusement in my memory banks."


    The Ebon Hawk rotated smoothly in the confined space of the hangar, its nose pointing towards the shimmering force field that separated the bay from the vacuum of space. HK-47 pushed the throttle forward, and the ship shot out of the hangar.


    As the Ebon Hawk cleared the Interdictor''s hull, HK-47''s sensors detected no pursuit craft launching.


    "Smug statement: A flawless escape, executed with the precision only a droid of my caliber could achieve."


    Once clear of the Interdictor''s immediate vicinity, HK-47 turned his attention to the nav computer. His processors whirred as he analyzed their current position and plotted a course back to Tatooine.


    "Analysis: Our current location appears to be deep within the Unknown Regions. Fascinating. The journey back to Tatooine will be... substantial." The nav computer beeped as it finished calculating the hyperspace route. HK-47 reviewed the projected journey time and let out what could only be described as an electronic sigh. "Resigned statement: It seems I will be forced to endure an extended period without the opportunity to terminate meatbags. How terribly dull."


    Through the Ebon Hawk''s viewport, a brilliant flash lit up the void of space. The Interdictor cruiser erupted in a spectacular chain of explosions, starting at its stern and rippling forward through its massive hull. Segments of the warship peeled apart like a blooming flower made of durasteel and fire. Secondary detonations followed as the reactor core breached, sending chunks of debris spinning into the darkness. The plasma charges had done their work with devastating efficiency. HK-47''s photoreceptors adjusted to compensate for the intense light of the explosion, capturing every detail of the cruiser''s demise. The shockwave rattled the Ebon Hawk, causing the ship''s stabilizers to whine as they fought to maintain course. Within moments, all that remained of the mighty Interdictor was a expanding cloud of superheated gas and twisted metal.


    "Addendum: I must remember to acquire more plasma charges. Their effectiveness at destruction is most impressive."


    With the course set, HK-47 engaged the hyperdrive. The stars outside the cockpit stretched into lines, and the Ebon Hawk leaped into hyperspace with a lurch.


    ¡ª Star Jumper ¡ª


    Tyson was perched on the edge of the biobed. The soft hum of Dr. Crusher''s tricorder beeped as she ran it over him, checking for any traces of the Tarellian plague.


    "Just a few more minutes," she said, adjusting one of the settings with a practiced touch. "We need to be absolutely certain."


    A sudden chime interrupted his thoughts as a message notification flashed across his field of vision.


    Episode: Star Wars Knights of the Old Republic - Tatooine Complete!


    +500 RP


    Reality Points: 800


    Ebon Hawk (Spaceships) has been lost!


    Interdictor (Spaceships) has been destroyed! Spaceship will respawn on 04/18/2365!


    Sith Interceptor(Spaceships) has been destroyed! Spaceship will respawn on 04/18/2365!


    Tyson smiled at the Reality Point boost. It was about as much as he could get from an episode. But when he saw the Ebon Hawk message, he immediately checked his character sheet. The ship was gone as if it had never been imported into the system. And the Interdictor''s respawn date was listed as well.


    He mumbled, "What the hell is going on?"


    It had to be some plot armor bullshit.


    <hr>


    Tyson


    Origins:


    Race:


    Character Points:


    Reality Points:


    Ship Points:


    Credits:


    Status Effects:


    Drawbacks:


    Perks:


    Items:


    Companions:


    Personal Reality:


    Spaceships:

 Season 2: Episode 22 - Too Short a Season

    Episode 22 - Too Short a Season


    Stardate: 41309.4


    Earth Standard Date: April 23, 2364.


    Location: USS Enterprise-D, enroute to the Mordan System.


    Tyson blinked, still trying to process the rapid turn of events. The notification told him that he''d lost the Ebon Hawk. And the Interdictor, which he''d just gotten from Vicky, had been destroyed. He stared up at the ceiling of the Enterprise''s sickbay, trying to figure out how.


    Captain Picard strode in, breaking him from his thoughts. "Welcome back, Ensign. It is good to see you healthy. Congratulations on a successful mission."


    "Thank you, Captain, but I didn''t do much. The Medical Bay did most of the work. I destroyed the Tarellian vessel to ensure no one else would get infected. The survivors have rooms set up for them in the Housing Complex within my Personal Reality."


    Dr. Crusher smiled. "Tyson, your work is remarkable. By curing them and providing a safe haven, you''ve given the Tarellians a chance to thrive, free from the stigma of their illness."


    "Indeed. Well done," Picard said, inclining his head. His expression grew serious once more. "Now that you''re back let''s appraise you of our current situation. Admiral Jameson is on board for diplomatic negotiations. Doctor Crusher was about to update me on his health."


    Crusher''s smile faded. "There are unfamiliar chemical traces in the Admiral''s blood and tissues. Nothing in our pharmacopeia matches. I''m still cross-referencing with alien medical databases, but whatever he ingested is strongly affecting his physiology."


    "Specifics, Doctor," he requested.


    "Captain, there are a myriad of anomalies at play. I cannot provide specifics until extensive further analysis."


    "Please provide your current findings, then." Picard insisted.


    "His erythrocyte levels are dangerously elevated with abnormal cellular mutations occurring rapidly throughout his body. The precise nature eludes me presently. His DNA helix is distorted in ways I cannot yet fathom. Moreover, there are biochemical indications of reversed aging. Most shockingly, there is no remaining evidence of Iverson''s Disease."


    "You claimed no cure existed for Iverson''s."


    "None known to Federation science," Crusher affirmed. "Yet these unknown compounds have somehow purged all traces. The mechanisms behind such dramatic physiological impacts remain unknown."


    "Bring me answers, Doctor," Picard requested as he departed.


    "Aye, sir," Crusher replied. She turned to Tyson. "I desperately need assistance investigating this medical mystery."


    "I''m no doctor, doctor. My skills lie in sticking patients into the Medical Bay and letting the technology work its magic. But I''m happy to lend my brain to bounce ideas off of."


    Dr. Crusher gestured him over to a console displaying the admiral''s test results. Side-by-side, they pored over the data. Though Tyson lacked formal medical training, his genetically enhanced intellect granted him an accelerated capacity for learning and comprehension. He didn''t have much to add, mostly acting as a logical sounding board for Crusher''s thoughts.


    "There''s no stabilization occurring in his DNA." Dr. Crusher said sharply.


    Tyson followed her gaze to the data. She explained what she was seeing. The admiral''s physiology was unraveling at the genetic level. Such instability promised only one outcome.


    Rapid systemic collapse.


    "It looks like the rate of change is increasing," Tyson noted.


    "If this continues, it could lead to a total cellular breakdown. We need to find a way to reverse or at least halt the process."


    "The Medical Bay''s Bio-Synthesis Lab can reconstruct damaged DNA."


    "It''s likely our best option," Crusher murmured, still distracted by the data.


    "The Medical Bay strikes again. We don''t need to find a solution. Just get him in, and everything will be fine." Tyson said with finality.


    Then his combadge chirped.


    "Ensign Tyson to Transporter Room 2," Captain Picard''s clipped tone ordered. "We require your expertise on an away mission."


    Tapping the insignia, Tyson responded, "Acknowledged, sir. On my way."


    He turned apologetically to Dr. Crusher. "Duty calls."


    Crusher waved absently, her attention already refocused on her console, determined to find a true solution to the admiral''s condition. Tyson set a quick pace through the corridors, crewmen stepping aside briskly for the large man. He strode into the transporter room, only to pull up short at the sight of Worf, Tasha, and Data already standing on the pads.


    "Well, this looks serious," he quipped, taking in their grave expressions. "We got the whole varsity squad gearing up." His joke was met with stony silence. "Tough crowd."


    But as he turned, he pressed his lips together, realizing that Picard and a man whose uniform indicated he was an Admiral were facing off. He must have interrupted something because the tension was palpable as they faced each other down. Pretending no one noticed his blunder, he stepped onto the empty pad. Yar offered him a phaser, but he shook his head. Tyson grimaced at the remote-like design and its terrible ergonomics. Reaching behind his back, he produced the phaser he''d gotten while on Pike''s Enterprise.


    If Tyson had to guess, he''d say that the Admiral looked to be in his early thirties. He had studied the man''s medical records, and Crusher had mentioned he was de-aging, but that was an understatement.


    "Prepare to energize, Chief," Jameson ordered.


    Picard raised a hand. "Belay that," he commanded. "Admiral, your proper place is on the Bridge."


    Jameson''s eyes narrowed. "I will remind you one more time, Picard. I am the Senior Mission Commander, and I''m leading this team."


    Riker, observing the exchange with a concerned look, spoke up, "Sir?"


    "The admiral is correct, Number One." Picard acquiesced. "He has that right. But I am the Captain of this ship, and I have a right to accompany him." Looking at the first officer, he added, "Riker, you''re in command of the Enterprise. Energize."


    With a final nod from Picard, the transporter chief activated the sequence, and the away team members dematerialized in a shimmering glow.


    The particles of the transporter beam left the away team within a series of tunnels. Admiral Jameson''s eyes lit up with recognition. "Yes, perfect. We''re in tunnel M-4, right below the Governor''s residence. This one connects to several main thoroughfares the hostages may be using."


    Data consulted his tricorder. "Apologies, Admiral, but my scans contradict that." He turned the device towards Jameson. "This tunnel was sealed two years ago. It dead-ends just ahead."


    Jameson waved dismissively. "Your data is flawed. I know these tunnels by heart. Keep scanning for human life signs. Karnas kept prisoners here before."


    The android lowered his voice and said to Captain Picard, "Sir, the schematics confirm this tunnel''s current configuration. It no longer links to the main network."


    "Your facts are likely correct, Mister Data. However, the Admiral''s memory stems from over forty years back. The tunnels may well have connected then."


    They reached a dead end, as Data had indicated. Jameson stared, fuming, as the truth sank in. Picard turned to Tyson. "Ensign?"


    Tyson called up the sensor readings from the tricorder within the Gray Goo Suit that encased his body to his HUD. A mini-map blinked to life in his heads-up display, showing the tunnel continuing beyond the adjacent wall.


    "The tunnel stretches on, sir," he reported, pointing to the wall, its surface conspicuously brighter than the time-worn concrete surrounding it. "This section''s a newer construction."


    Jameson nodded sharply. "That''s it. It''s the fastest route. Set phasers to cut through."


    "Unneeded, Admiral," Tyson said as he drew his Lightsaber in a flourish of plasma. He carved through the false wall in seconds, opening their path forward.


    Data cocked his head. "Non-regulation equipment, Ensign?"


    "Yes, sir," Tyson said as he drew the alternate-universe Starfleet issue phaser with his off-hand. "I prefer to come overprepared."


    "Admiral, if you''ve got coordinates on the hostages, we could beam right to them," Lieutenant Yar suggested.


    "Karnas may not have them in the same place," Jameson replied as he led the team through the smoking hole. "There''s no substitute, Lieutenant, for personal reconnoiter."


    A sudden ping sounded in Tyson''s helmet. At the same time, he sensed aggressive intent through the Force. He grabbed Jameson''s arm, yanking the senior officer down behind a concrete pylon. "Motion sensors ahead, sir. And multiple hostiles approaching."


    "Set phasers to stun!" Picard barked as a phaser beam sizzled over their heads, barely missing. "Take cover!" he yelled.


    Tyson rose to stand amid the incoming phaser bolts, batting each energy beam away with calm precision. His lightsaber hummed as he strode toward the soldiers. He flowed between the men like a storm unleashed, and precise phaser shots dropped soldiers in his wake. To the Starfleet team taking cover behind the concrete pylons and walls, Tyson seemed an unstoppable warrior wielding formidable skills. As the last attacker collapsed boneless at Tyson''s feet, he lowered his blade. His senses and the tricorder indicated there were no further threats.


    "Clear, sirs," he called.


    Behind the barricade, Picard straightened, tugging his uniform crisp. "Well done, Mr. Tyson." He gestured the team forward through the litter of stunned soldiers. "Let''s keep moving."


    They had only taken a few steps when a sudden cry jerked Tyson''s attention back.


    "Ensign Tyson!" Picard shouted from his position, crouched beside the admiral. Tyson stowed his weapons in a blink, hurrying over.


    Reaching the struggling Jameson, the severity of his condition became painfully clear. Beads of sweat slicked the admiral''s face while each breath rasped short and labored. The DNA Degradation had accelerated, and the admiral''s health plummeted by the moment. Knowing time was critical, Tyson focused inward, channeling the Force''s healing energy granted by his Force Specialization: Intelligence Perk. He funneled the power into Jameson, stabilizing the man''s condition.


    But the respite was only temporary.


    The Force could heal various wounds, infections, and diseases but couldn''t permanently repair genetic instability. Tyson assessed Admiral Jameson''s rapidly deteriorating condition. He turned to Captain Picard, urgently seeking permission. "His condition is critical. I need to get him to the Medical Bay if we''re to save him."


    Picard nodded sharply. "Do it."


    Without hesitation, Tyson opened a portal directly into the Med Bay of his Personal Reality. He effortlessly scooped up the admiral, cradling the man against his chest. The away team followed closely behind as Tyson strode through the portal. Once they were all through, Tyson sealed the entrance behind them. He gently laid Admiral Jameson onto one of the beds. The integrated scanners immediately began their work. He then opened another portal leading directly to sickbay on the Enterprise-D.


    "I believe Dr. Crusher will want to be present," Tyson explained to Picard. "If you wish to return to the Enterprise, you may do so."


    Dr. Crusher stepped through the portal. She wasted no time, making a beeline for the Bio-Synthesis Lab to examine the treatment options.


    "Keep me informed," Picard requested, already moving back toward the portal to the Enterprise. Before stepping through, he turned to Lieutenant Yar. "One security personnel should stay with Dr. Crusher and Admiral Jameson." Yar nodded crisply, motioning she''d remain behind, freeing Worf and Data to return to the ship. Picard''s gaze shifted back to Tyson. "I also request that a portal remain open between the Medical Bay and sickbay for the duration of the Admiral''s treatment."


    "Agreed, Captain," Tyson replied.


    As Picard disappeared through the portal, Tyson moved to join Dr. Crusher in the Bio-Synthesis Lab. He pulled up a holographic display of Jameson''s DNA structure. "It''s giving us a real-time view of the degradation," he explained. "You can use this to target your treatment more effectively."


    Dr. Crusher leaned in, studying the display intently. "The rate of cellular breakdown is still accelerating," she observed. "We need to stabilize him before we can even consider reversing the damage."


    "The systems here are automated, but with a skilled, knowledgable doctor, the treatment becomes more effective," he said. "I never try doing it myself since I don''t have the requisite knowledge and training. But with you present, the Medical Bay should be far more effective."


    Yar watched from a respectful distance, clearly out of her depth but vigilant nonetheless.


    Dr. Crusher''s eyes narrowed as she studied the readouts. "His vital signs are stabilizing, but we''re not out of the woods yet," she cautioned. "This is going to be a long process."


    ¡ª Star Jumper ¡ª


    Tyson was still seated in the Medical Bay. Admiral Jameson lay motionless on the bed, but his labored breathing had relaxed to a normal cadence. Dr. Crusher remained with the Admiral, her eyes fixed on the biomonitors.


    "Hey doc, I''m going to go handle some things. As long as I remain within the Personal Reality, the portal to the Enterprise will remain open. If you need to take a break, feel free to head through those doors. It''ll drop you out on a Mediterranean beach." Crusher did a double-take at his words. Tyson chuckled, "Yeah, real thing too, not a holodeck. Don''t worry about the Admiral. The Medical Bay works better under your expertise, but he''ll be on his feet within a week, even without your guidance."


    "I''ll take a break soon. Thank you, Tyson."


    He opened a second portal and stepped into the Control Room. He accessed the central console and used it to recall his Companions.


    "Time to bring the team together," he murmured to himself.


    From the Control Room, he was able to send a notification, and when they were ready, the portals would open automatically. T''Pol arrived first, slipping away from her duties on the NX-01 Enterprise. Minutes later, Vicky arrived, dropping her guise as Darth Malak and reappearing as the attractive pink-haired woman Tyson had come to know. She stretched as if her nano-bots needed to shake off the last vestiges of her disguise.


    "Ah, it feels good to be back in my own skin," Vicky said, "Playing Malak gets tiresome."


    Tyson couldn''t help but laugh. "I can imagine. How did things go on your end?"


    "Not much has changed. What''s so important that you had to summon me?"


    T''Pol tilted her head, matching the other woman''s curiosity.


    Tyson gestured between the two women. "Introductions first. T''Pol, subcommander of the NX-01 Enterprise. Meet Vicky, a V-ko IV Nursedroid turned Grey Goo. She''s an artificial being that has been given a spark of life. She''s posing as Lord Malak, leader of the Sith."


    T''Pol''s eyebrow arched even higher, her gaze sweeping over Vicky with renewed interest. "Fascinating. I was unaware that artificial life forms could achieve such a level of sophistication and autonomy."


    "Oh, honey, you have no idea. I''m way beyond your standard AI."


    "Indeed," T''Pol replied, she turned to Tyson. "I assume there is a reason you''ve brought us together?"


    "Yes. We''ve got a problem, and I need both of your expertise to tackle it."


    "What kind of problem?" Vicky asked, her playful demeanor fading.


    "A Mary Sue problem," Tyson said grimly.


    T''Pol tilted her head. "I''m unfamiliar with this term."


    Vicky''s eyes glazed over for a moment as she interfaced with the VI within Tyson''s Gray Goo Suit. As she received the information from his character sheet, she groaned. "Oh no. Not one of those."


    "I''m afraid so. T''Pol, a Mary Sue, is someone who is seemingly good at everything, and luck seems to always go their way to ensure that they win. In this case, her name is D''Lavina, and she''s in the same universe as Vicky. She already somehow managed to destroy one of my Spaceships and manipulate Revan and his crew, and I''m worried about the long-term consequences of her actions."


    "Revan?" T''Pol inquired.


    "A powerful Force user," Tyson explained. "He was previously the Sith Lord until he was betrayed by his former friend and apprentice, Lord Malak. Vicky and I defeated Malak, and now she poses as him. But Revan had lost his memories. He''s slowly been regaining his powers, but he''s fallen under D''Lavina''s sway."


    Vicky crossed her arms. "So what''s the plan? We can''t just go in guns blazing. If she''s a true Mary Sue, she''ll have plot armor thicker than beskar."


    "That''s why I need both of you," Tyson said. "T''Pol, your logical approach, and scientific mind might be able to find weaknesses that we''re overlooking. And Vicky, your position as Malak gives you insider knowledge of the Sith and their military backing."


    T''Pol nodded slowly. "I understand. How do you propose we proceed?"


    Tyson leaned against the control panel, his frustration evident in the tightness of his jaw. "That''s the problem. With a Mary Sue, it''s impossible to know. No matter what traps we set, or contingencies we plan for, they pull something out of their ass to win."


    "Here''s an example," Tyson continued, "I ran into D''Lavina on Tatooine, a planet not too dissimilar to Vulcan but all desert."


    "I stranded her group out in the middle of the desert," Tyson explained, "I took their personal vehicles and their animal mounts. I returned to town, stole their spaceship, and pulled it through a portal into the unknown regions of space."


    Vicky whistled low. "That should have been game over for them. Even the most resourceful group would take days to get out of that situation if they survived at all."


    Tyson''s face darkened. "Somehow, they still managed to steal their ship back and destroy the cruiser I had it docked inside... And they did it within 2 hours."


    T''Pol''s eyebrows knit together. "That seems... highly improbable."


    "It''s infuriating," Tyson agreed, "But more so, it shows how difficult it is to fight against a Mary Sue. They defy logic and probability."


    T''Pol tilted her head, considering. "I find the concept of such a being difficult to accept. Perhaps we need to approach this problem from a different angle."


    "What do you mean?" Tyson asked.


    "If this... Mary Sue... defies conventional logic. Perhaps we need to employ unconventional tactics," T''Pol suggested.


    "We could pull back from that universe completely."


    Vicky''s eyes narrowed. "Would that work?"


    "Maybe, maybe not. I wouldn''t block the possibility that she could find a way to escape."


    "What is this Mary Sue''s goal?" T''Pol asked


    Tyson hesitated as a flicker of embarrassment crossed his face. "To add me to her harem."


    T''Pol''s eyebrow shot up while Vicky burst into laughter. Tyson fixed them both with a deadpan look.


    "You don''t seem to be shy about physical relationships," T''Pol observed. "Why not join her?"


    Tyson''s jaw clenched. "I''m not going to be part of someone else''s harem."


    T''Pol''s other eyebrow joined the first. "Your answer infers that you wouldn''t mind having your own harem."


    "Hypocritical, sure," Tyson admitted grudgingly. "But no, just no."


    T''Pol pressed on. "Are there any examples of a Mary Sue being defeated that you''re aware of?"


    Tyson shook his head in frustration. "No. That''s the point. A Mary Sue pretty much always wins."


    Vicky''s eyes lit up suddenly. "That''s it. We make sure the Mary Sue wins, end the story."


    Tyson''s eyes widened as understanding dawned. "End the story. Yeah, that might work."


    "I don''t understand," T''Pol said.


    "D''Lavina is traveling with Revan, the prior Sith Lord. Vicky is posing as his former apprentice, who deposed him¡­ It''s fate." He began to pace, his words coming faster as the plan took shape in his mind. "They were on Tatooine looking for the Star Maps, which would lead them to the Star Forge, a space station that... is now under our control. But I destroyed the Star Map to hinder her progress."


    He paused, a new realization hitting him. "Now that I think about it¡­ since the Ebon Hawk was in that system, they''ll have its coordinates and won''t need the Star Maps anymore. They''ll probably be coming for Malak and the station."


    Vicky nodded, following his train of thought. "They''re pretending to be the good guys."


    "Pretending? Technically, they are the good guys. Maybe we should be the bad guys," Tyson continued, his eyes gleaming with the thrill of a forming plan. "Continue playing the role of the Sith Lord and his new apprentice and have the final battle against them. Prepare the station for their arrival and turn the place into a trap that they can never escape from."


    T''Pol listened intently, working through the implications. "I can see the irony, but I''m unsure how this solves the Mary Sue problem."


    "It''s all about narrative, T''Pol. Mary Sues thrive on being the hero, on overcoming impossible odds. But what if we give them exactly what they want?"


    Vicky chimed in, catching on to Tyson''s plan. "We become the villains they expect us to be. We set up the classic final confrontation scenario."


    "Exactly," Tyson nodded. "We make it look like they''re winning, like they''re overcoming our traps and defeating our minions. But in reality, we''re leading them deeper and deeper into our trap."


    T''Pol''s brow furrowed slightly. "I still fail to see how this defeats the Mary Sue."


    Tyson''s grin widened. "We''re not trying to defeat her, T''Pol. We''re trying to end her story. Mary Sues exist to be the hero, to overcome the villain and save the day. So we let her do exactly that."


    "But with a twist," Vicky added, her own excitement growing. "We make the trap so complete, so perfect, that even when she ''wins'', she still loses."


    Tyson nodded. "We give her the victory she craves, but we make it a Pyrrhic one. She defeats us, but in doing so, she traps herself."


    T''Pol''s eyebrow arched higher. "And you believe this will work because..."


    "Because it gives the Mary Sue what she wants," Tyson explained. "She gets to be the hero. She gets to defeat the big bad Sith Lords. But in doing so, she writes herself out of the story."


    Vicky snapped her fingers. "And if the story ends, so does her power."


    T''Pol considered this for a moment. "It''s an... interesting theory. But it relies heavily on assumptions about the nature of this Mary Sue''s powers."


    Tyson shrugged. "At this point, it''s the best plan we''ve got. Conventional tactics won''t work against her. We need to think outside the box."


    "And if it doesn''t work?" T''Pol pressed.


    "Then we''re no worse off than we are now," Tyson replied. "But if it does work, we solve our Mary Sue problem and stop her reality-warping influence."


    Vicky clapped her hands together. "So, what''s our first move? How do we start setting up this elaborate trap?"


    Tyson turned back to the control panel. "First, we need to prepare the Star Forge. And prepare ourselves. It''s time to stop being stingy with my points. We''ll need to create layers of plans and backups. "


    We''ll start with Vicky''s purchases.


    [100 CP] Fellow Captain (Companions)


    For when you want your own little fleet. Import a companion, and they get 600 CP, as well as a stipend of 800 SP, to spend on their own ship and may choose any origin or species.


    Character Points: 1050


    [Free (Stipend)] A.I. (Origin)


    Some people might ask if you really are alive. You are a machine, after all, or rather code or the copy of a living mind running on a machine. Nonetheless, you clearly are sentient and sapient, even overshadowing many biological minds in that second category.


    [Free (Stipend)] Elite (Origin)


    No matter what hierarchies exist within this universe, you are near the top. Be it as a member of an empire¡¯s ruling caste or as the head of an industrial conglomerate, planets live or die at your word, and laws are mere suggestions to you. Yes, this includes some of the physical ones, should you decide to invest enough resources into overcoming them.


    [Free (Discounted)] Memory Banks (Perk)


    You have the ability to effortlessly process and categorize a near-infinite amount of information and perfect memory, as long as nothing physically destroys the storage medium.


    [Free (Discounted)] Social Algorithms (Perk)


    Even if you can not empathize with the emotions of another being, you will still be capable of anticipating and believably simulating such things to a point where your counterpart will believe them to be real.


    [Free (Discounted)] Above Law and Reason (Perk)


    You somehow have a way of getting away with cruelty, corruption, and mismanagement, be it perceived or real, far longer than should be reasonable.


    [Free (Discounted)] Pedigree (Perk)


    No matter the background a new Jump would grant you, you will always be able to trace your lineage to prestigious ancestors or will be related to someone in power twice or three times removed. Similarly you are guaranteed knowledge of the social norms of high society.


    [Free (Discounted)] Planetary Domicile (Items)


    Living space on a planet¡¯s surface is at a premium, and the real estate in your possession is naturally the best. The vast mansion grants a view over a positively breathtaking otherworldly landscape.


    [Free (Discounted)] Photonic Rapier (Items)


    A weapon of a more civilized age. this metal cylinder can project a blade consisting of an arcane mixture of superheated plasma, hard light and laser technology that can cut through nearly anything and is freely adjustable in length up to three meters of blade length. Alternatively may be fashioned to resemble another melee weapon of your choice.


    [100 CP (Discounted)] Security Features (Perk)


    You have the capability to create backups of your core personality that can be used in an algorithm detecting any divergences. This allows you to check yourself for things like morality drift, outside control, or signs of mental deterioration and, in case of unwanted developments, forcibly restore a prior state. This does not erase any memories and potentially will be noticed by entities currently trying to influence you. To ensure maximum safety, the decision to restore a prior state, as well as the decision to create a new backup, will be made by an instance of the most recent core personality from the backup library, ensuring no changes are discarded or saved against your will. Upon gaining this perk you automatically gain a current backup and one from when you started your chain.


    Royal Road is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author.


    [200 CP (Discounted)] Quantum Locked BUS (Perk)


    No matter how far apart subsystems or avatars that are part of you are, you will still remain one coherent being, your parts capable of communicating instantly and lag-free, even over interstellar and interdimensional distances. Furthermore, any time a copy or new instance of you is made, you can decide to seamlessly incorporate it into your being.


    [300 CP (Discounted)] Adaptive Personal Force Field (Items)


    Easily deflecting most man-portable weapons systems this defensive shield lets you project an air of invulnerability, dispassionately watching on while your subordinates dispatch your enemies on your commands. In addition to protecting you from enemy weapons, this clarketech shield also completely seals you off from outside environments, protecting even from prolonged exposure to extreme temperatures and providing a breathable atmosphere, and protects you from all manner of exotic hazards from gravitics, to spatial warping, to interdimensional attacks, as well as adapting to as of yet unknown threats after a few interactions.


    They reviewed the list of purchases and upgrades they had just made.


    Vicky cocked her head to the side. "Not that I''m complaining, but why these upgrades? Some of them seem... oddly specific."


    "Well, first and foremost, we''re upgrading you. These perks allow your VIs to become part of you. The Quantum Locked BUS Perk, in particular, is a game-changer."


    "How so?" T''Pol inquired.


    "It means Vicky can control all aspects of herself regardless of distance. She can be inside her primary body, other android bodies, ships, facilities, heck even across different universes. It''s a massive upgrade to her capabilities."


    [Free (Stipend)] Station (Spaceships)


    Not designed as means of transportation space stations nonetheless are exceedingly common, acting as staging points, fortifications, or habitats. Rather than a ship you possess an orbital installation. This precludes you from taking any Drive options save the free Sub-Light Thrusters used for corrections of your orbit and the options explicitly discounted for the Station. On the upside Stations can be truly vast, and double the maximal size given for Sections.


    [Free] Ship Size Rating III (Spaceships)


    Maximal Section Size: 500m, 400,000 m3, Rating: III


    [Free (Discounted)] A.I. Core (Spaceships)


    Your ship is equipped to house an artificial intelligence and have it monitor and guide its functions.


    [100 SP] Entertainment Deck (Spaceships)


    This place offers everything one could wish for, from a recreational center to places to exercise to virtual reality environments for training, play, or historical re-enactment.


    [100 SP] Exotic Materials: Nanomaterials (Spaceships)


    The bulk of the ship does not consist of conventional materials but rather a closely monitored and strictly regulated hive of nanomachines, allowing for a highly variable layout and quick redistribution of infrastructure and armor from one place to another.


    [200 SP] Modular (Spaceships)


    The vessel can attach itself to another spaceship, effectively providing that ship with access to the components bought from this one.


    [200 SP] Secure (Spaceships)


    While there are measures in place to prevent control of the vessel from falling into the wrong hands on any ship, yours is protected by one of the most advanced systems available, consisting of unobtrusive but effective authentication methods and other powerful countermeasures against cyber warfare effectively making it impervious to such attacks. This effectively increases the ship¡¯s rating by two when resisting such attacks.


    [200 SP (Discounted)] Nanite Shroud (Spaceships)


    Your vessel can emit a corrosive mist consisting of nanites that will convert anything they come into contact with into more of themselves until a shut-off signal is broadcast. While this approach will fail against most shields, it is highly effective against unshielded but highly durable targets. This weapons system damages targets not protected by shields equivalently to what is shown for a Rating of VII if left alone long enough. The lower its actual rating is, the longer it takes until it ramps up to that level of damage, with Rating I requiring up to a month, Rating VII up to half an hour, and Rating VIII a few minutes.


    "But what about the ship? Why invest in that?"


    Tyson grinned, clearly pleased with himself. "Ah, that''s where it gets interesting. The difference between having the spaceship and not is only 50 CP. It''s absolutely worth the cost. But the ship itself isn''t the main bonus."


    "Elaborate," T''Pol prompted.


    "The points need to be spent on an additional ship. They can''t be applied to an existing one. But by purchasing the Modular upgrade, we can attach it to the Automated Repair Facility later. This means Vicky can fully control that with her nanobots. The new station, the ''false'' Star Forge, will essentially become an extension of her body with the nanite upgrades."


    Vicky commented, "So, I''ll have complete control over the entire station? That''s... impressive. But how does this help with our Mary Sue problem?"


    Tyson''s grin widened. "The false Star Forge isn''t just an upgrade. It''s our trap."


    "I''ll move the actual Automated Repair Facility and the Narada into the Personal Reality, where they''ll be safe," Tyson said, "When D''Lavina and her group arrive, they''ll find this new station. It''ll be smaller, but it''ll have the same appearance as the original Star Forge."


    "And the trap?" Vicky prompted.


    "The trap lies in the Entertainment Deck," Tyson revealed, his eyes glinting with mischief. "It''s equivalent to the Enterprise''s holodecks. We can lure D''Lavina inside, and if we play our cards right, she won''t even notice the difference."


    "You intend to trap her in a simulation?" T''Pol asked.


    "Exactly. Since Vicky will control everything in the station, we can lock D''Lavina inside the Entertainment Deck. She''ll play out the rest of her story there, none the wiser that she''s actually trapped in a sophisticated holographic environment."


    Vicky let out a low whistle. "That''s... devious. But will it work? Mary Sues have a knack for overcoming impossible odds."


    "That''s the beauty of it," Tyson explained, his excitement palpable. "We''re not trying to overcome her. We''re going to let her fulfill all her goals. But within a controlled environment where she can''t cause any real damage."


    T''Pol considered this for a moment. "It is an intriguing plan. However, I must point out that there are numerous variables that could lead to failure."


    Tyson nodded, acknowledging her concern. "You''re right, T''Pol. That''s why we need to be prepared for every contingency. Vicky''s upgrades will give us unprecedented control over the environment. We can adapt on the fly, change scenarios, and keep D''Lavina engaged in her ''heroic journey'' indefinitely."


    "And what of Revan and the others?" Vicky asked. "They''re part of her group now."


    "We''ll need to separate them," Tyson mused.


    T''Pol folded her arms, her expression thoughtful. "This plan relies heavily on deception and manipulation. Are we certain this is the most appropriate course of action?"


    Tyson''s expression sobered. "We have to consider the bigger picture. D''Lavina''s presence in this universe is causing untold damage. Her pheromone-produced mind-control abilities make her too dangerous. By containing her in a controlled environment, we''re preserving the integrity of this universe and removing a direct threat."


    T''Pol considered this for a long moment before finally nodding. "Your logic is sound. While I still have reservations, I acknowledge that this may be our best option given the circumstances."


    Tyson clapped his hands together. "Alright, then. We have our plan now let''s get some for T''Pol."


    [100 CP] Fellow Captain (Companions)


    For when you want your own little fleet. Import a companion, and they get 600 CP, as well as a stipend of 800 SP, to spend on their own ship and may choose any origin or species.


    Character Points: 950


    [Free (Stipend)] Rubber Forehead (Origin)


    You¡¯re... Essentially human. Some minor differences might apply, like subtly longer or shorter life spans or latent psychic powers, but in the end, the only real distinguishing feature will be exactly that: a visually obvious distinguishing feature, like bone ridges on your forehead, green skin, or oddly shaped ears.


    [Free (Stipend)] Elite (Origin)


    No matter what hierarchies exist within this universe, you are near the top. Be it as a member of an empire¡¯s ruling caste or as the head of an industrial conglomerate, planets live or die at your word, and laws are mere suggestions to you. Yes, this includes some of the physical ones, should you decide to invest enough resources into overcoming them.


    [Free (Discounted)] Above Law and Reason (Perk)


    You somehow have a way of getting away with cruelty, corruption, and mismanagement, be it perceived or real, far longer than should be reasonable.


    [Free (Discounted)] Pedigree (Perk)


    No matter the background a new Jump would grant you, you will always be able to trace your lineage to prestigious ancestors or will be related to someone in power twice or three times removed. Similarly, you are guaranteed knowledge of the social norms of high society.


    [Free (Discounted)] Distinct Feature (Perk)


    You gain a single ability or property that provides you increased utility rather than a straight-up power boost. At your choice this comes with a mostly cosmetic alteration (presumably the one demarcating your specific Alien Species) you can apply to any human forms you possess at will.


    [Free (Discounted)] Everyone Likes Green Chicks (Perk)


    No matter that you are not human, you are stunningly attractive by human standards and those of your species.


    [Free (Discounted)] Planetary Domicile (Items)


    Living space on a planet¡¯s surface is at a premium, and the real estate in your possession is naturally the best. The vast mansion grants a view over a positively breathtaking otherworldly landscape.


    [Free (Discounted)] Photonic Rapier (Items)


    A weapon of a more civilized age. this metal cylinder can project a blade consisting of an arcane mixture of superheated plasma, hard light, and laser technology that can cut through nearly anything and is freely adjustable in length up to three meters of blade length. Alternatively, it may be fashioned to resemble another melee weapon of your choice.


    [200 CP (Discounted)] Protector Drones (Items)


    You are an important person, and important people attract enemies. To combat this issue, you have access to a small squad of drones purpose-built for personal security, including at least one medic.


    [200 CP (Discounted)] Space Elf (Perk)


    Your species is, in some ways, distinctly superior to humanity. Be it an extended lifespan allowing you to live for thousands of years, raw physical strength, or innate psychic powers. You can be sure to exhibit a few attributes that will make humans look upon you in envy. Do note that no matter how superior you feel, you will still be within the realm of the biologically plausible.


    [300 CP (Discounted)] Space Wizard (Perk)


    Through access to the best of the best science has to offer, you have been granted a deeper understanding of the forces of creation and can evoke powerful magic-like effects. This includes gravity manipulation with a variance of up to 5g (affecting a volume of up to 35,000 cubic meters), short-term precognition (of up to half an hour), teleportation, and dynakinesis capable of outputting up to 2,000,000 Joules when used in short bursts and a sustained output of 400,000 Watt. All these abilities can be projected at a planetary range, with the exception of teleportation, which will allow you to reach other planets in the same system, though you will effectively be restricted by your ability to perceive or calculate your target from data you¡¯ve been given, to properly target them.


    "I must admit," T''Pol began, "these upgrades are quite... extensive. I''m particularly intrigued by the Space Wizard perk."


    "I thought that would catch your attention. Using the Force is an incredible experience, but with the Space Wizard upgrade, you gain all the similar powers, except it''s not based on an intangible cosmic field. It''s based on physics. Think of it as advanced manipulation of fundamental forces. Gravity manipulation, for instance. It''s not mystical. It''s just an incredibly advanced understanding and control of gravitational fields."


    Vicky chimed in. "And the short-term precognition is not foresight, but rather an advanced form of probability calculation based on current data and trends."


    "Fascinating. And the teleportation?"


    "Again, it''s not magic," Tyson explained. "It''s an advanced understanding of space-time and matter transfer. Just like the Enterprise''s transporter, but it''s limited by your ability to perceive or calculate your target from available data."


    "That is... considerable power. And all of this is based on scientific principles?"


    "Exactly," Tyson confirmed. "I thought it would suit you better than the more mystical aspects of the Force. It aligns more closely with Vulcan logic and scientific understanding, just taken to an extreme degree."


    [Free (Discounted)] Symbol (Spaceships)


    The Symbol isn¡¯t just a ship, it is a display of your power and wealth. Where a more frugal shipwright might have built three ships of the same class with the resources it took to build yours, it is the absolute apex in both performance and luxury, outperforming any normal vessel of its class by roughly 20% and allowing anyone on board to live like a king.


    [Free] Ship Size Rating II (Spaceships)


    Maximal Section Size: 250m, 200,000 m3, Rating: II


    [Free (Discounted)] Distributed (Spaceships)


    Why only have one bridge? In case the main bridge gets disabled, there are several secondary control rooms that can take over the functions required to control the ship in an emergency.


    [Free (Discounted)] Battery Banks (Spaceships)


    Some ships may be constructed to allow their energy requirements to exceed their reactor¡¯s output. In this case, it is prudent to invest in a proper storage method, stockpiling unused energy for later use.


    [Free (Discounted)] Physical Armor (Spaceships)


    Your vessel is already resilient to damage simply by means of its construction. Crystalline growth on the hull, often meters thick on bigger ships, protects you from the vacuum of space and enemy fire.


    [50 SP] Beam Weapons (Spaceships)


    Lasers and other beams are a staple of sci-fi. Here is your opportunity to equip your vessel with them. It also stands to reason they would be quite effective, seeing that the near vacuum of space does little to refract them and that they save a lot of resources, not needing to rely on stockpiled ammunition.


    [50 SP] Gravitic Shields (Spaceships)


    Your ship is hidden behind a maelstrom of gravitic fluctuations, which jerk projectiles coming close to it wildly off course and away from the ship.


    [100 SP] Exotic Materials: Crystal (Spaceships)


    Your ship is a true marvel to behold, consisting of crystalline structures, filigree crystal lattices substituting for more conventional circuitry, and thick deposits on the ship¡¯s surface acting as armor.


    [100 SP] A.I. Core (Spaceships)


    Your ship is equipped to house an artificial intelligence and have it monitor and guide its functions.


    [200 SP] Modular (Spaceships)


    The vessel can attach itself to another spaceship, effectively providing that ship with access to the components bought from this one.


    [300 SP] Inertialess Drive (Spaceships)


    Somehow, this drive manages to violate one of the basic laws of physics, requiring a completely separate framework of physical formulae to even understand how it works. In effect, this drive allows you to accelerate past the speed of light by ignoring the conventional physical law of inertia, as well as providing pinpoint accuracy in maneuvering, even at superluminal speeds.


    T''Pol turned her attention to the ship upgrades. "Why the Symbol? How does it fit into our overall strategy?"


    "Vicky''s False Star Forge will be integrated into the Automated Repair Facility. Your Symbol will be integrated into the Narada as an auxiliary craft."


    "But," Vicky interjected, "based on these purchases, the Symbol is a fully functional vessel on its own as well. It''s not just an add-on."


    T''Pol tilted her head slightly. "Luxury seems... unnecessary for our purposes."


    "Don''t underestimate the power of perception," Tyson countered. "The Symbol isn''t just a ship; it''s a statement. All its bonuses will carry over to the Narada. It could be incredibly useful in diplomatic situations or when we need to impress potential allies or intimidate adversaries."


    Vicky pulled up a detailed schematic of the Symbol. "Look at these specs. Distributed control systems, advanced battery banks, physical armor made of crystalline growth... It''s a fortress for a ship for its size, and it doesn''t have any component overlap with the Narada. Combined, they''ll be a force."


    T''Pol studied the schematics carefully. "The inertialess drive is particularly intriguing. It seems to defy conventional physics."


    "That''s because it does. It allows for faster-than-light travel by essentially ignoring inertia and relativity. It''s a complete game-changer in terms of maneuverability and speed, perfect for a small vessel."


    "But how does this fit into our overall plan?" T''Pol pressed. "How will these upgrades assist us in dealing with the D''Lavina situation?"


    "The Symbol provides us with a smaller vessel that can function independently of the Narada if needed. It''s more of a long-term investment than meant to help with our current situation," he answered.


    "I''m guessing you''re going to make purchases that will help you directly target D''Lavina."


    Tyson frowned and winced at the same time. "I''m hesitant to spend so many points when I''m not even sure if they''ll help. The problem is that Drawbacks always trump Perks. So if I purchase something, there''s a chance that she''ll be able to get around it."


    He pulled up a display, re-reading the drawback''s description.


    [+400 CP] Mary Sue (Drawback)


    They are ridiculously overpowered and have overwhelming plot armor. Their goals & actions directly oppose yours. What''s more, they know about you and believe that if they "befriend" you hard enough, you can be redeemed and join their harem.


    D''Lavina doesn''t just have overwhelming strength; she has ''plot armor''. That means the universe itself seems to bend to her will, making her nearly invincible."


    T''Pol interjected, "You can attempt to mitigate its impact. Perhaps consider perks or items that enhance mental fortitude or resistance to manipulation."


    "But what about the ''plot armor''?" Vicky asked. "Is there anything that can counteract that?"


    "That''s the tricky part. Plot armor isn''t just about being tough or lucky. It''s about reality itself bending to accommodate the character." Tyson scrolled through the available options. "I''ve already picked out two possibilities."


    [300 CP (Discounted)] Untainted (Perk)


    Brainwashing rays? Ooo~ Pretty lights! Ultra Sonic Mind Control? This is my jam! Psychic Alien fucking your brain meats? Kinky! You can easily shrug off the effects of physical and mental alterations. This can even work on recreational drugs with nasty side effects, and if you want to enjoy those side effects? Then good for you, because you can set a timer! Once the timer''s set, all changes that occurred while it was on will revert. It only counts if the main intent of the drug or technological/psychic/soul effect was to alter your mind and body.


    [300 CP (Discounted)] Q This (Perk)


    It''s time to show those ¡°transcendent¡± beings who''s boss. With this perk you can disable the supernatural powers of a single reality warping creature so long as you''re in direct contact with it.


    Tyson folded his arms, a crease of doubt crossing his brow. "I have reservations about the Untainted Perk. This D''Lavina manipulates her followers with pheromones, something the perk should counteract. But since she herself is a Drawback, I''m unsure if she''ll override the Perk''s effects anyway." What he didn''t say was that he was tempted to take the perk regardless. It wasn''t guaranteed to shield his mind from D''Lavina''s pheromones but it would protect him from other threats like the creeping influence of the dark side or assimilation by the Borg.


    "Her plot armor bends reality itself. It''s why I picked out the Q This Perk. It specifically targets reality-warping creatures. But that still leaves the problem of Drawbacks overriding Perks."


    His eyes returned to the list, searching for an unconventional solution. The answer eluded him thus far, but he refused to surrender the initiative to D''Lavina. There had to be a way to beat a Mary Sue at her own game.


    T''Pol tilted her head slightly. "Perhaps we are approaching this from the wrong angle. If we cannot directly counter her abilities, maybe we can redirect them."


    "What do you mean?" Tyson asked, intrigued.


    "The drawback states that her goals and actions directly oppose yours," T''Pol explained. "What if we were to alter our goals? By doing so, we might be able to manipulate her actions to our advantage."


    Vicky''s eyes widened. "That''s brilliant! We could set up false objectives, making her think she''s opposing us when she''s actually playing right into our hands."


    Tyson nodded slowly. "That could work. But they couldn''t be false objectives; they would need to be genuine objectives. It''s a solid strategy. Instead of trying to overpower her, we use her own narrative against her."


    Vicky chimed in, "What about the ''befriending'' aspect? She believes she can redeem you and add you to her harem. Could we use that to our advantage?"


    Tyson winced. "That''s a dangerous game that I''d prefer not to play."


    "As I said earlier, if you join her harem, conflict could be avoided completely," T''Pol noted.


    Tyson still shook his head. "We have a few strategies to consider. First, invest in Perks that boost resistance to her influence and counteract her plot armor. Second, we set up our objectives to redirect her actions in a way that benefits us. Distant third, maybe find a way to let her befriend me that doesn''t turn me into her harem slave."


    "So, are we in agreement?" Tyson asked, looking at his companions.


    T''Pol and Vicky exchanged glances before nodding their assent.


    "Alright then," Tyson said, his fingers hovering over the holographic interface. "Let''s make these purchases and start planning our strategy in detail. We''re not just going to counter D''Lavina. we''re going to outmaneuver her on a narrative level."


    Character Points: 350


    Tyson laid out the plan. "Vicky, consume the Adaptive Personal Forcefield. Since it''s a system Item, it''ll appear in the Warehouse again tomorrow. Then I''ll do the same. The following day, T''Pol can grab it and use it as hers, along with the Scaling Cloak."


    "Understood. I''ll take care of that right away."


    Tyson continued, "Vicky, I need you to bring the Automated Repair Facility into the Personal Reality, in orbit of the Sun, so that it can still be used. Also, bring the Narada. Place your False Star Forge in its place as bait for D''Lavina''s group."


    Tyson then turned to his Vulcan Companion, his expression serious. "T''Pol, head to the Warehouse and grab the Spacesuit. It has an enclosed environment. If you encounter any Orion women, activate it. While Vulcan women have a measure of resistance against Orion pheromones, I would prefer not to test if it holds up against plot armor." The Vulcan nodded, appreciating Tyson''s cautious approach. He continued, "Additionally, in the Warehouse are Armored Robes. They''re laced with a metal called cortosis, which will interfere with a lightsaber blade. Wear that as well whenever you''re outside of your native reality."


    "I understand. Thank you for considering my protection."


    Tyson smiled, then turned back to Vicky. "I''m going to work on the crew for the False Star Forge."


    With their tasks assigned, the trio sprang into action. Tyson opened a portal to the Warehouse, gesturing for T''Pol to follow him. Meanwhile, Vicky went through her own portal to begin the process of moving the Automated Repair Facility and Narada into the Personal Reality.


    As they stepped through the portal, Tyson pointed out the Spacesuit and Armored Robes to T''Pol, who moved to collect them. While she gathered her new protective gear, Tyson strode purposefully towards a set of shelves tucked away in a corner. His eyes scanned until they landed on what he was looking for.


    Lore.


    The android counterpart to Data. Tyson lifted the deactivated android. Its weight was substantial but manageable.


    T''Pol, now holding the Spacesuit and Armored Robes, approached. "I have what I need," she said, "I will return to the NX-01 now." With a slight incline of her head, she bid him farewell and stepped through another portal.


    Tyson, still holding Lore, waited for Vicky to complete her task. When she signaled that the Automated Repair Facility had been successfully moved, he opened a portal and stepped aboard. Vicky appeared beside him, her eyes immediately drawn to the android in his arms.


    "What are we doing with him?" she asked.


    Tyson set Lore down carefully on a nearby workstation.


    "It''s time we expanded our capabilities. We''re going to create an entire crew of Soong-type androids, and you''re going to control them all."


    "An entire crew? That''s... ambitious."


    "With this facility, it won''t be a problem. Soong-Type androids are rare, but the Matter Printer can create anything. He pulled up the description.


    Clarketech Matter Printer (Spaceships)


    One of the most fundamental pieces of technology available. This is what allows things like replicators or some teleportation systems to work. This device allows you to essentially print objects consisting of any combination of matter, requiring only a blueprint and a sufficient energy supply. The clarketech version of this device has surpassed certain restrictions and is now even capable of printing substances with magic, mythic, or other supernatural properties.


    We''re going to start with duplicates of Malak and myself, then create a large number of generic models." He began to pace, as he thought through the plan. "We''ll use synth-skin on the main ones to make them look real. The generic ones will be outfitted in Sith armor."


    Vicky''s eyes widened. "Why Sith armor?"


    "Optics, mostly," Tyson replied. "It ties into our strategy of misdirection. D''Lavina should expect an army of Sith on a facility as important to the war effort as the Star Forge."


    Tyson turned to the nearby console. "First things first, we need to analyze Lore''s construction. We''ll use that as our base model, then make modifications as needed."


    As Tyson worked, several robotic arms lowered from the ceiling, assisting in the analysis and beginning the replication process. "I''ve started fabricating the basic components," Vicky reported. "How many units are we aiming for?"


    "Let''s start with a hundred. We can always make more if needed."


    The Automated Repair Facility hummed to life, its advanced systems beginning the complex process of creating the android army. Tyson moved to another console, pulling up schematics for Sith armor.


    "While the androids are being fabricated, let''s work on the armor designs," he said. "We''ll need to modify them slightly to accommodate the android physiology and add a shield generator, just to make things even more difficult for them."


    As they worked, the first few androids began to take shape. Tyson watched with satisfaction as perfect replicas of himself, and Malak emerged from the fabrication chambers.


    "Impressive," Vicky commented, her voice emanating from the newly created Tyson android. "The synth skin is indistinguishable from real human tissue."


    Tyson approached his doppelganger, examining it closely. "Incredible. Any issue controlling all of these simultaneously?"


    Vicky nodded, using the Tyson and Malak androids to demonstrate her multitasking capabilities. "It''s easily doable. The positronic brains are added to my processing power. Creating these actually lowers the strain on me. Each unit can operate independently or as part of a coordinated group."


    As they spoke, more androids continued to emerge from the fabrication chambers, each one a blank slate ready to be molded into whatever form they needed.


    ¡ª Star Jumper ¡ª


    Tyson returned to the Medical Bay to find Dr. Crusher and Captain Picard hovering over Admiral Jameson, who had regained consciousness. Picard''s combadge beeped with an incoming message.


    "Bridge to Picard," came Commander Riker''s voice through the open portal still connecting the Enterprise and Personal Reality.


    "Picard here," the Captain responded briskly.


    "We just received a new threat from Karnas, sir. If we don''t hand over Admiral Jameson in the next five minutes, he''ll execute one of the hostages. Another will face a ''most painful'' death every fifteen minutes after that." Riker''s tone was grim.


    Jameson strained to speak. "Let me go, Picard. If I give myself over, Karnas will release the hostages. It''s me he wants."


    Picard hesitated. "It would mean certain death for you, Admiral."


    "My life for twenty hostages, Picard?" Jameson pleaded. "Let me go."


    Tyson chose that moment to interject. "Sirs, if I may propose an alternative plan?" He quickly outlined his idea, and both Picard and Jameson agreed it could work.


    "Number One," Picard tapped his combadge, "inform Karnas that Admiral Jameson will beam down shortly.


    Riker sounded perplexed. "Did I hear that correctly?"


    "You have your orders. Picard out." The Captain closed the channel.


    Minutes later, the elderly Admiral Jameson, seated in his mobile chair, materialized on the surface. Karnas took custody of the weakened admiral. He circled Jameson, his voice dripped with contempt. "Ah, Admiral Jameson. The great hero, finally within my grasp. I''ve waited a long time for this moment. Did you think you could escape the consequences of your actions? That you could simply hide away in the vastness of space?" Karnas continued his monologue. "Your interference in our conflict all those years ago did nothing but prolong the suffering and devastation. You may have thought you were helping, but you only served to fan the flames of war. And now, here you are, a frail old man, still trying to right your wrongs." He stepped closer to Jameson, smiling cruelly. "But today, I finally have my revenge. I will make you pay for the years of pain you caused my people. You will experience a mere fraction of the torment you inflicted upon us."


    As Karnas continued to gloat, it was clear that he relished every moment of Admiral Jameson''s current predicament. Feeling satisfied with his monologue, he tapped his comms device and ordered, "Release the Federation prisoners."


    He turned his attention back to Admiral Jameson, who sat slouched but with a composed expression on his aged face. Karnas'' anger flared at the admiral''s unyielding demeanor, and he decided it was time to break the man''s spirit. He grabbed a nearby hammer and slammed it down on the admiral''s hand.


    Or at least he tried to.


    The room was filled with the ringing of metal striking. But to Karnas'' astonishment, Jameson didn''t scream out in pain. At the last moment, the aged Admiral had moved his hand, avoiding the attack, causing it to pang harmlessly against the mobile chair.


    Jameson said, "Watch where you''re swinging that thing, young man."


    Karnas stared at the admiral, baffled. So he raised the hammer and swung again, and yet again, the Admiral avoided the strike, seemingly moving with prescience.


    Looking down at the hammer in his hand, he felt an unsettling mix of anger and suspicion, sensing a deception at play. Confusion and frustration washed over him, and he demanded, "What is this trickery?"


    He couldn''t ignore the nagging doubt that the admiral was part of a larger ruse. Refusing to be made a fool, he tapped his comms device.


    "Halt the release of the Federation prisoners!" he barked into the device. "Detain them and prepare for the first to be executed!"


    His subordinate''s response only fueled his frustration. "Sir, the Federation prisoners have already been transported away."


    Karnas clenched his fist, his face reddened with rage. He turned to face Admiral Jameson, determined to take out his anger on the man who had made a mockery of him. But before he could utter a single threat, the Admiral winked and vanished before his eyes, transported away.


    Karnas stood in the now empty room as the reality of the situation settled in. He had been outmaneuvered, his plans for vengeance thwarted. He had been so close, then his prize was stolen from him. The fury that coursed through him was beyond what words could express.


    As Admiral Jameson''s form shimmered into existence on the transporter pad, Captain Picard greeted, "Welcome back, Admiral," putting a hint of gentle mockery on the rank.


    The reply, however, came not in Jameson''s tones but in the voice of Tyson. "Thank you, Captain. I do appreciate the promotion."


    Picard laughed aloud. "Excellent work, Ensign. Thanks to your efforts, the hostages are now safe, and Admiral Jameson is recovering comfortably." His smile broadened as Tyson''s features shifted back to his normal appearance.


    The Gray Goo Suit he wore was capable of disguising his looks but could not change his size. Mimicking the frail, elderly Jameson would have been impossible. Yet slouched in the admiral''s motorized chair, Tyson had successfully maintained the deception long enough for the Enterprise crew to carry out the rescue.


    With the crisis resolved and the captives freed, it was time to return to their regular duties. Picard gave an approving nod before they turned together and strode from the transporter room.


    Episode: Star Trek The Next Generation - Too Short A Season Complete!


    +100 RP


    Reality Points: 900


    <hr>


    Tyson


    Origins: Human, Humanoid, Drop-In, Space Pirate, Bad Guy, Officer


    Race: Augment Human-Betazoid (Hybrid)


    Character Points: 350, [250 KOTOR (Vicky)]


    Reality Points: 900


    Ship Points: 2650


    Credits: 115,350


    Status Effects: (none)


    Drawbacks:


    Gauntlet (Locked)


    Ensign Marty Stu


    A Simple Re''Q''uest


    Hybrid (Betazoid)


    Amok Time/Blood Fever


    Outlawed


    Mary Sue


    Perks:


    Cosmic Awareness


    Out of Nowhere


    Going Native


    Live and Let Live


    This is (Not?) Rocket Science


    Kinda Bland


    Determinator


    Painted On


    Snakeskin


    Adaptable


    Duelist


    Master with your Hands


    Best of the Best


    Everything Is A Weapon


    Augment


    Force Specialization: Intelligence


    Tactical Info


    Sever Force


    Specialty: Operations; Sub-Specialties (Communications, Engineering, Piloting)


    Speedy Promotions


    Untainted


    Q This


    Items:


    Laser Blade


    Spacesuit


    Agony Booth


    Cloaking Minefield


    Lightsaber


    Gray Goo Suit


    Transwarp Beam Equation


    Companions:


    (Vicky) V-KO IV Nursedroid: Access Key, Artificial Intelligence Upgrade, Gray Goo Upgrade, Master With Your Hands, Light Weapon, Jumper''s Master Key, Scaling Cloak, Origin: Jedi, Force Specialization: Intelligence, Enhanced Mind, Lightsaber, Armored Robes, Battle Meditation, Origin: AI, Origin: Elite, Memory Banks, Social Algorithms, Above Law and Reason, Pedigree, Planetary Domicile, Photonic Rapier, Security Features, Quantum Locked BUS, Adaptive Personal Force Field, False Star Forge.


    T''Pol: Access Key, Origin: Rubber Forehead, Origin: Elite, Above Law and Reason, Pedigree, Distinct Feature, Everone Likes Green Chicks, Planetary Domicile, Photonic Rapier, Protector Drones, Space Elf, Space Wizard, Symbol


    Personal Reality:


    Access Key (Additional Keys, Key Link)


    Security System


    Antechamber


    Warehouse


    High-Security Inter-Reality Connecting Door (Star Trek Enterprise, Star Wars Knights of the Old Republic)


    Medical Bay (The Nano-Medical Lab, The Bio-Synthesis Lab, Microbiome Replacement Lab)


    Housing Complex (Basic Nutrition, Choice Apartments, Who''s Got the Powa, Pipes Pipes Pipes)


    Playing With Portals (Portal Link, Portal Control Rod, Free Portal, Portal Aperature x4)


    The Mystical Menagerie


    Ship Sections (Cryo-Chambers)


    Personal Mini-Reality (The Village, Wildlife for Your Wild Life, The Meaning of Life)


    Spaceships:


    Tramp Freighter (Destroyed - Respawn on 02/28/2365)


    Sith Interceptor (Destroyed - Respawn on 04/18/2365) (Bridge Upgrade)


    Automated Repair Station (Ship Size Rating: IV, Station, Bridge, Space Hulk, Artificial Gravity, Cryo-Chambers, Auto-Repair System, Synapses, Distributed, Automated Ship, Analytic Suite, Docking Port, Transporter Room, Matter Printer, Negentropy Reactor, Deflector Shields, Clarketech Module, Production Lines, Hangar, Cargo Bay, Living Quarters)


    Narada (Ship Size Rating: IV, Artificial Gravity, Alcubierre Drive, Auto-Repair System, Exotic Materials (Nanomaterials), Cargo Bay, Hangar, Hyperdrive (Transwarp), Antimatter Reactor, Navigation Suite, Analytic Suite, Deflector Shields, Missiles, Cyber Warfare Suite (Mining Drill)


    Interdictor (Destroyed - Respawn on 04/18/2365) (Ship Size Rating: III, Artificial Gravity, Hangar, Hyperdrive, Fusion Reactor, Navigation Suite, Point Defense, Deflector Shields, Jump Suppression Field, Beam Weapons, Follower Crew)


    False Star Forge (Ship Size Rating: III, Station, A.I. Core, Entertainment Deck, Exotic Materials: Nanomaterials, Modular, Secure, Nanite Shroud)


    Symbol (Ship Size Rating: II, Station, Distributed, Battery Banks, Physical Armor, Beam Weapons, Gravitic Shields, Exotic Materials: Crystal, A.I. Core, Modular, Inertialess Drive)

 Season 2: Episode 23 - Star Forge

    Episode 23 - Star Forge


    Stardate: 41331.5.


    Earth Standard Date: May 1, 2364.


    Location: USS Enterprise-D, Omicron Pascal System.


    "Number One, please inform Ensign Tyson that our arrival at Starbase 74 will be delayed a week." Picard straightened his uniform jacket, tugging it sharply into place. "I believe the good Admiral wishes to satisfy his curiosity regarding the man who saved his life. He''s scheduled a full evaluation of Tyson''s actions since arriving on the Enterprise."


    Commander Riker nodded. "Aye, sir." He tapped his combadge. "Riker to Ensign Tyson."


    "Tyson here," came the prompt response.


    "Ensign, I wanted to inform you that Admiral Jameson has insisted on evaluating your progress when we arrive at Starbase 74 in two weeks."


    "Understood, Commander. Thank you for the update."


    As Riker signed off, Tyson leaned back in his chair. He had taken to staying within his Personal Reality, but leaving a small portal opened to an unused section of the Enterprise so that he could still receive communications through his combadge. Now, he needed to decide how best to spend his newfound time. In his suite within the Housing Complex, the remnants of breakfast still lingered on the table. The warm aroma of Tyson''s coffee and T''Pol''s tea filled the air.


    "Two weeks," Tyson mused, his fingers tracing the rim of his coffee mug.


    "How do you intend to utilize this period?" his companion asked.


    Tyson smiled, leaning forward slightly. "Well, I was hoping you might have some input on that, T''Pol. I''d like to spend some of this time with you if you''re amenable."


    "That would be... agreeable," T''Pol replied with a hint of warmth that Tyson had learned to recognize. "However, I must remind you that my duties continue, regardless of your temporary reprieve."


    "Of course. I wouldn''t dream of interfering with your work. But perhaps we could explore some shared interests during your off-hours?"


    "What did you have in mind?"


    "Would you like to go on a date with me to the arboretum? We could search for special plants, like we did on Haven."


    After a moment''s consideration, T''Pol nodded her agreement. "Very well. I accept your invitation. It seems like a... logical way to spend our time."


    Tyson reached for her hand, and their fingers intertwined. He opened another portal to the Enterprise, and together, they strolled toward the arboretum. The lush greenery and soft lighting created an idyllic setting for their date. The air was rich with the mingling scents of various plants. His eyes landed on a tree with vivid crimson leaves, their edges tinted with hints of amber and gold. As they drew nearer, an aromatic scent wafted from the foliage, spicy yet subtly sweet.


    "This tree reminds me of you, though I can''t quite pinpoint why," Tyson remarked.


    "Indeed. It is Vulcan spice tea. The leaves are dried and steeped to produce a popular variety of tea on my homeworld. You have observed me drinking it many times, which likely explains the association."


    Tyson studied the tree with new appreciation. He carefully selected the smallest sapling and uprooted it. Rich soil clung to its roots as he cradled the plant, and they resumed their leisurely stroll through the arboretum. Their path led them to a tiny, secluded corner glade covered with soft, verdant grass. Feeling a touch of whimsy, Tyson asked, "Would you like to join me in the grass?" he asked, attempting to inject an air of romance into their walk.


    "While I do not typically engage in such frivolous activities, I am willing, for you, Tyson."


    He gently guided T''Pol into the vibrant green patch, which was marked with a sign as Klaban grass. They sat on the soft, cushioned ground, facing each other with their knees touching. The air was filled with the soothing scent of the grass, creating an atmosphere of serenity that enveloped them. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, centering himself in the moment.


    Glancing down at the lush grass beneath them, an idea formed. With gentle care, Tyson uprooted a small section of grass and cradled it alongside the Vulcan spice tea sapling.


    They rose to their feet and resumed their stroll through the arboretum, with Tyson carefully balancing his acquisitions. As they completed their circuit, they stumbled upon a quaint gift shop nestled among the verdant greenery.


    A captivating aroma wafted through the air, guiding T''Pol to a display of potted plants labeled Jibalian Fudge Thistle. The rich, chocolate-like scent was simply irresistible. Despite her stoic Vulcan demeanor, T''Pol found herself inexplicably drawn to the small herbaceous plant. Its alluring aroma seemed to bypass her logical defenses, tapping into a hidden, indulgent side she rarely allowed herself to experience.


    Tyson couldn''t help but playfully tease as she examined the velvety purple blooms with fascination. "It appears that even Vulcan women cannot resist the allure of chocolate."


    A subtle green flush colored her cheeks as she raised an eyebrow, acknowledging the unexpected truth in his words. "It seems you are correct," she admitted.


    He watched as T''Pol''s fingers hovered near the velvety petals, not quite touching but close.


    "You know," he said, his voice low and conspiratorial, "The sign says that this plant has some rather interesting properties. Beyond its taste and strong scent, it can induce a mild euphoria in certain species."


    T''Pol''s eyebrow arched higher. "Indeed? I assure you that Vulcans are immune to such effects."


    Tyson chuckled softly. "Of course, of course. But surely you can appreciate its aesthetic qualities and unique aroma?"


    "It is... pleasing," she conceded.


    Tyson gently picked up one of the potted Jibalian Fudge Thistles, cradling it alongside the Vulcan spice tea sapling and the patch of Klaban grass. "Well, then. I think we''ve found the perfect addition to our little botanical collection."


    As they made their way to the counter, Tyson noticed T''Pol''s gaze lingering on thir most recent acquisition with something that looked suspiciously like anticipation.


    The shopkeeper, a jovial Bolian with bright blue skin, greeted them warmly. "Ah, excellent choices! The Jibalian Fudge Thistle is particularly popular for its uses in cooking and desserts."


    The shopkeeper packaged their plant, and upon leaving the arboretum, Tyson opened a portal to his Personal Reality. They stepped onto the island of Crete with their recent acquisitions.


    "Do you have anywhere in particular you were thinking of planting these?" she asked.


    "I do have something in mind," he admitted. With a gesture, he pulled up the system menu.


    [100 RP] Guardian''s Greenhouse (Personal Reality)


    This greenhouse is set up for geoponics/terraponics, hydroponics, or aeroponics. All plants/fungi grown in your Greenhouse are guaranteed to be either vibrantly tasty and nutritious or peak effective. The Greenhouse comes with a Soil Analyzer, which can analyze a plant or seed to determine what conditions it needs to produce optimal results and produce soil, clay, mulch, rock, atmosphere, or hydro-solutions to match. It can also analyze soil samples you give it and recreate them. Adds a custom Guardian Chiller to all kitchens in your Personal Reality. Fruits, Vegetables, Spices, Herbs, Mushrooms, and similar produce stored in a Guardian Chiller are guaranteed not to lose their flavor over time and to remain at the peak of ripeness as long as that¡¯s where they were harvested. Plants within the Guardian''s Greenhouse will begin growing in appropriate environments across your Personal Reality, and a steady supply of any edible portions of the plants will be added to the Guardian Chillers.


    Reality Points: 800


    Slowly, a structure began to materialize a short distance from the other buildings. It solidified into a magnificent greenhouse that seamlessly blended with the surrounding architecture. The greenhouse''s walls were a combination of marble columns and expansive panels of crystal-clear glass.


    "This is the Guardian''s Greenhouse. It''s a facility designed for optimal plant growth and cultivation. Would you like to come inside with me? We can plant our new acquisitions together."


    "That would be agreeable."


    The air inside was perfectly regulated, warm and humid without being oppressive. The scent of rich earth filled their senses.


    Tyson led T''Pol to a central workstation, where they carefully set down their plants from the Enterprise''s arboretum.


    "Where shall we begin?" Tyson asked, gesturing to the array of planting areas around them. There were raised beds filled with rich, dark soil, hydroponic systems with nutrient-rich water flowing through them, and even sections set up for aeroponic cultivation.


    T''Pol considered for a moment, her eyes scanning the options. "Perhaps we should start with the Vulcan spice tea sapling," she suggested. "It would likely benefit from soil similar to that of my homeworld."


    Tyson nodded, moving to the Soil Sampler and Analyzer. "Excellent idea. Let''s see what we can do."


    He placed a leaf from the sapling into the device, and within moments, it had analyzed the plant''s needs. The machine hummed to life, mixing and preparing the perfect soil composition. A minute later, the Soil Sampler beeped. Together, they carefully transplanted the Vulcan spice tea sapling into its new home in a raised bed near the center of the greenhouse.


    As they patted the soil around the sapling''s base, their hands brushed against each other. Tyson felt the spark of a psychic connection. He looked up to find T''Pol''s eyes on him.


    "Shall we plant the Klaban grass next?" Tyson asked softly, not wanting to break the moment.


    T''Pol''s fingers lingered near his for a moment longer. "Yes, I believe that would be logical. Its properties may prove beneficial for meditation practices."


    They moved to another section of the greenhouse, this one set up for larger ground cover plants. As they prepared the area for the Klaban grass, Tyson couldn''t help but reflect on how this simple act of planting together felt like nurturing more than just flora; it was growing the connection between him and T''Pol as well as enriching his Personal Reality.


    The tranquil moment in the Guardian''s Greenhouse was shattered when a warning message flashed across his HUD, the words appearing directly in the middle of his field of view


    Red Alert.


    Recognizing the urgency of the notification, he realized it could only be from one person, the only one who could control his suit like that. Vicky. She''d merged with all her VIs, so Ivy was part of her once more. The message began scrolling.


    The Ebon Hawk has entered the Lehon system with a Republic fleet.


    T''Pol immediately sensed the shift in his demeanor.


    "I need to go. It''s time. D''Lavina is attacking." She moved to join him, but Tyson shook his head. "I appreciate you and value you, so I say this kindly. You are not ready for a fight like this yet. You''re not familiar enough with your Space Wizard powers or Photonic Rapier to the point where you could enter a battle with a Jedi like Revan. Please return to your Enterprise for now."


    Tyson''s empathy allowed him to sense the undercurrent of concern that T''Pol masked. But finally, she replied, "I understand. Good luck, and please consider my recommendations."


    He gave a final nod and opened a portal to the false-Star Forge station they''d positioned near Lehon''s star. Without hesitation, he stepped through, leaving T''Pol to return to the NX-01. The space station was a hive of activity, with the Soong-type android crew, all Vicky VI''s hidden within Sith armor, working in perfect synchronicity. Tyson immediately moved to the central command console.


    "Vicky, what''s the situation," he demanded.


    The real Vicky entered the room through a portal to stand beside him. "The Ebon Hawk has entered the system, accompanied by a substantial Republic fleet. They''re headed straight for us. I''ve already begun mobilizing our forces. The token Sith fleet is moving to intercept. This facility has no shields; it''s about as open a target as we can make ourselves."


    "I want all available Sith androids equipped and ready for combat."


    "Understood," Vicky replied, fulfilling Tyson''s orders through her various autonomous bodies.


    ¡ª Star Jumper ¡ª


    The stars shimmered like diamonds scattered across the endless void of space. In the distance, massive fleets of warships from both the Republic and the Sith forces had gathered. Republic Hammerhead cruisers formed the vanguard. On the opposing side, Interdictor cruisers surrounded by swarms of Sith interceptors and bombers hovered around the capital ships. As the two fleets drew closer, the tension was palpable. Turbolaser batteries charged, and squadrons of starfighters flew in formation.


    Suddenly, the standoff was shattered by a barrage of turbolaser fire. Emerald and crimson lances of energy crisscrossed the void, striking shields and deflector arrays. The first casualties began to mount as smaller vessels were caught in the crossfire.


    Republic Aurek-class strikefighter squadrons weaved through the hail of enemy fire, unleashing proton torpedoes and concussion missiles upon the Sith capital ships. Explosions blossomed across the hulls of the dreadnoughts, their shields flickering under the strain.


    The Sith retaliated with Interceptors that swarmed the Republic lines. Laser cannons blazed, cutting down the Republic fighters.


    Lord Malak ordered that the Sith Interdictor cruisers not engage their gravity well projectors, allowing damaged Republic vessels to retreat.


    Through it all, the False Star Forge remained untouched in the distance.


    The battle raged on, with both sides suffering losses. Republic and Sith fighters engaged in deadly dogfights, and capital ships exchanged devastating broadsides.


    Vicky and Tyson watched the battle from the False Star Forge''s Viewing Platform. Turbolaser fire crisscrossed the void, illuminating the darkness with emerald and crimson hues.


    "I need them to take the bait," Tyson mumbled as he studied the unfolding conflict.


    "Maybe we need to sweeten the pot," Vicky suggested. "Give them a little extra incentive."


    Tyson nodded slowly. "Yeah, maybe I need to do something to make D''Lavina notice me. I could go out there and stir things up a bit."


    "That''s risky," Vicky cautioned. "The Interceptors aren''t durable. One stray shot, and you''ll be space dust."


    "You''re right." Tyson pulled up his System menu, scrolling through the options.


    He''d always planned on improving the Narada and added the Modular upgrades to the more recent purchases to take advantage of sharing the benefits of multiple ships. But there was one purchase he''d been eyeing for a while. He''d held off purchasing it because it used Character Points, which he''d been running low on. He''d much rather use Ship Points, but he''d resolved to stop being stingy with his points when it came to overcoming D''Lavina. Plus, regardless of how strong he was, if the ship he was piloting were destroyed, it''d all be for naught.


    [200 CP] Iconic Item (Items)


    This status can be attached to any item (chosen when this is purchased). In addition to never needing to be cleaned, maintained, sharpened, refueled, recharged, or reloaded, and always functioning properly, this item will now gain the abilities of any item of the same type (melee weapon to melee weapon, computer to computer, vehicle to vehicle, etc.) that has system backing, if you want to add those abilities. If destroyed this item returs to your Warehouse in 24 hours.


    If he purchased the Iconic Item and designated a spaceship, it would gain the properties of his other spaceships. It was an elegant solution.


    Tyson purchased the Iconic Item and picked out a random Sith Interceptor from those remaining inside the False Star Forge. Immediately, the starfighter began to transform, its hull shifting and expanding as it took on the capabilities of Tyson''s other vessels.


    Character Points: 150


    The Sith Interceptor now boasted a formidable array of weapons and defensive systems. Its hull bristled with turbolaser batteries, small phaser arrays and missile launchers. Powerful deflector shields enveloped the craft, that now had multiple ftl options.


    Tyson grinned. The ship had every upgrade any of his Spaceships possessed.


    Iconic Interceptor


    (Ship Size Rating: IV) (General Upgrades: Artificial Gravity, Auto-Repair System, Bridge Upgrade, Modular, Exotic Materials: Nanomaterials, Exotic Materials: Crystal, Secure) (Sections: Cargo Bay, Cryo-Chambers, Hangar, Living Quarters, Production Lines) (Controls: A.I. Core, Distributed, Synapses) (Crew: Follower Crew, Automated Ship) (Propulsion: Alcubierre Drive, Hyperdrive (Transwarp), Hyperdrive, Inertialess Drive) (Reactors: Battery Banks, Fusion Reactor, Antimatter Reactor, Negentropy Reactor) (Sensors: Navigation Suite, Analytic Suite) (Shields: Physical Armor, Point Defense, Deflector Shields, Gravitic Shields, Jump Suppression Field, ) (Utilities: Docking Port, Entertainment Deck, Transporter Room, Clarktech Matter Printer) (Weapons: Beam Weapons, Missiles, Cyber Warfare Suite (Mining Drill), Nanite Shroud)


    As Tyson vaulted into the cockpit, Vicky splayed her hand on the Interceptor''s hull. Her consciousness flowed into the ship, integrating herself with the AI Core. The hull widened, and the central area of the ship scaled up slightly to accommodate the Bridge Upgrade. Settling into the command chair, Tyson sensed the Interceptor responding to his thoughts, becoming an extension of his will. Through the Synapses neural interface, his mind melded seamlessly with Vicky''s within the Interceptor. With a thought, he guided it from the hangar into the raging battle beyond. Follower Crew members in Sith armor entered the bridge, manning the other stations, though with Tyson directly controlling the ship with his mind, they were mainly for apperances.


    The ship moved as if alive, connected to his mind. Now, to put it through its paces. Vicky''s consciousness within the A.I. Core embraced his, ready to unleash hell. As the Iconic Interceptor entered the battle, Vicky and Tyson''s minds interfaced, working together. Vicky processed all the incoming sensor data of the hundreds of ships surrounding them, seamlessly passing all relevant data to Tyson''s mind while he controlled the ship.


    A Republic Hammerhead cruiser was his first target. Its turbolaser batteries spat emerald bolts at the Sith capital ships, not noting his presence. Tyson locked onto the vessel, and the Interceptor''s forward-facing laser cannons and its phaser array opened fire. Crimson-orange lances of energy lashed out, slamming into the cruiser''s shields. The Hammerhead''s deflector arrays flickered and wavered. It didn''t take long for the Iconic Interceptor''s Rating-IV firepower to collapse the cruiser''s shields, leaving its hull exposed. With a thought, a swarm of missiles streaked from the Interceptor. These projectiles, gained from the Narada, swarmed toward the defenseless Hammerhead, targeting non-vital systems. Explosions blossomed across its hull as the missiles found their mark, shredding through armor and superstructure.


    The cruiser was left adrift. The Iconic Interceptor banked hard at unmatched speed, its Inertialess Drive allowing it to defy the laws of physics.


    Another Hammerhead cruiser filled the Interceptor''s targeting reticle. Again, the laser cannons and phasers blazed, and another volley of swarm missiles followed. This time, the cruiser''s shields held longer, but they, too, ultimately failed under the relentless barrage.


    By the time Tyson had crippled a third Hammerhead, the Republic forces had taken notice of the new threat in their midst. Several cruisers broke formation, and their turbolaser batteries swiveled to track the Iconic Interceptor.


    But the Interceptor was no mere starfighter. Its advanced systems and upgrades made it a force to be reckoned with. Tyson pushed the throttle forward, and the ship surged ahead, its Inertialess Drive allowing it to outmaneuver the slow-turning cruisers easily. As the Interceptor danced through the hail of turbolaser fire, a new threat emerged. A squadron of Republic starfighters, led by the Ebon Hawk, broke off from the main battle and gave chase.


    Under Tyson''s direction, the Interceptor broke away from the battle, retreating toward the False Star Forge.


    Vicky''s voice crackled over the comm. "Sith Interceptor squadron, engaging the Republic fighters."


    Laser cannons blazed, and the Republic fighters scattered, their pilots reacting with to avoid the flanking Sith. But one ship remained on Tyson''s tail and refused to be deterred.


    The Ebon Hawk.


    Tyson''s lips curled into a grin as he recognized the freighter-turned-starfighter. The Iconic Interceptor raced back toward the False Star Forge with the Ebon Hawk hot on its tail. Laser fire scorched the void around them as the Republic freighter refused to break off its pursuit. As they neared the station''s entrance, Tyson opened a portal leading directly into the Automated Repair Facility within his Personal Reality. Into the ''true'' replacement Star Forge. With a deft maneuver, he guided the Interceptor through the shimmering gateway, the ship vanishing from normal space.


    To any outside observer, it would appear as though the Interceptor had docked within the False Star Forge itself. But in actuality, Tyson had transported it to his Personal Reality where it would be safe.


    Once inside the Repair Facility, he opened another portal and stepped back onto the False Star Forge Viewing Platform.


    "The Ebon Hawk has docked," Vicky reported.


    ¡ª Star Jumper ¡ª


    Sure enough, the feed showed the modified freighter had settled into one of the station''s hangars. Tyson watched as the boarding ramp lowered, and a group of figures emerged.


    D''Lavina led the way, clad in revealing dark robes. Avner strode at her side. Canderous Ordo, the grizzled Mandalorian mercenary, followed close behind while Carth Onasi, the Republic soldier, kept a wary hand on his blaster pistol. Zaalbar, the Wookiee, brought up the rear, his crossbow held at the ready. Then, the last member came into view.


    HK-47.


    Tyson cursed. The droid''s presence explained how he''d lost the Ebon Hawk the first time. HK wasn''t part of their group when he saw them on Tatooine. It must have been somewhere on the Ebon Hawk, and he missed it. He wouldn''t have detected the droid with empathy, and apparently not with the Force. He suspected some plot armor shenanigans were at play, but it explained how the Ebon Hawk had been stolen and his other ship destroyed.


    They encountered resistance as the group left the Hangar Bay and made their way deeper into the station. Squads of Sith troopers emerged from side corridors. But unbeknownst to the group, these were no ordinary troopers. They were Soong-type androids, all controlled by Vicky. The androids opened fire. D''Lavina reacted, her lightsaber igniting with viridian plasma. She deflected the incoming fire, sending the bolts ricocheting harmlessly off her blade. Avner was a whirlwind of motion, his own purple lightsaber a blur as he tried to cut down the android troopers. Canderous and Carth added their own firepower to the fray, their blasters barking in rapid succession. Zaalbar let loose a roar as his bowcaster released bolts.


    On the bridge, Tyson watched the unfolding battle with grim satisfaction. "Keep the pressure on them," he instructed Vicky. "Let them advance, but make sure it''s a slow progression. Do your best to wear them down."


    "Understood," Vicky replied as the commands were instantly relayed to the android forces.


    Tyson opened a portal and stepped through, leaving Vicky alone on the Viewing Platform.


    The battle inside the ''Star Forge'' continued, but it quickly became apparent that D''Lavina and her companions were facing a far more formidable enemy than they had anticipated. The Sith Troopers moved with uncanny coordination; their reactions were faster, and their targeting was more precise than any common soldier the group had ever encountered.


    Avner closed on a trooper and slashed with his lightsaber, aiming for its midsection. To his shock, the blade met unexpected resistance when a shimmering energy field flickered to life, blocking his lightsaber and leaving the trooper unharmed.


    "They have personal shields!" Avner shouted.


    D''Lavina gritted her teeth. "Focus your attacks! We need to overload their shields!"


    Canderous unleashed a barrage from his heavy repeating blaster, the rapid-fire bolts hammering against a trooper''s defenses. The energy field flickered and wavered under the sustained assault.


    "Damn it!" the Mandalorian growled. "All this to take down just one of them?"


    Carth ducked behind a fallen piece of debris, popping up to squeeze off a few blaster shots. "We''re not making a dent in them!"


    HK-47''s metallic voice cut through the chaos. "Observation: These meatbags seem to possess superior defensive capabilities. Suggestion: Perhaps a tactical retreat would be advisable, master."


    Zaalbar roared in agreement, providing cover fire for Carth as they fell back. D''Lavina''s face was a mask of concentration as she reached out with the Force, attempting to push back the advancing line of Troopers. But her Force Push washed unaffectively over the Sith trooper''s shields.


    "Fall back!" she commanded, using her lightsaber to bat away incoming bolts as she covered the group''s retreat. Avner moved in perfect sync with D''Lavina, the two Force users created a protective barrier of deflected blaster fire as their companions withdrew. But for every Trooper they managed to stagger or push back, another seemed to take its place.


    Canderous unleashed a final, furious barrage from his repeating blaster before turning to sprint toward the ship. "We need to come up with a new plan!"


    Carth nodded grimly, providing covering fire for the Mandalorian mercenary as they retreated. "He''s right. We''re outgunned and outmatched."


    D''Lavina''s eyes narrowed as she deflected another volley of blaster fire. She could sense something was off about these troopers, but in the heat of battle and with their shields, she couldn''t pinpoint exactly what it was. "Everyone, to the ship!" she ordered over the din of combat.


    As they neared the Ebon Hawk''s boarding ramp, the Sith troopers intensified their assault, seemingly intent on keeping them pinned down. Blaster fire rained down on the retreating group, forcing them to duck behind cover and stalling their final sprint to safety.


    As D''Lavina and her companions were trapped so close to the Ebon Hawk''s boarding ramp, they all heard a sound that crushed their hopes of escape.


    The freighter''s ramp unexpectedly began to rise.


    Confusion and alarm rippled through the group as they realized they were now cut off from their only means of escape.


    Unknown to them, Tyson had already infiltrated the Ebon Hawk, using his ability to create portals to gain access to the ship. He had bided his time, waiting for the perfect moment to strike. With the Jumper''s Master Key, he easily reclaimed control of the ship''s systems.


    The Ebon Hawk''s engines roared to life, and the ship began to lift off.


    Avner reached out with the Force in a desperate attempt to halt the escaping vessel. His hands clenched into a fist as he poured his will into the effort.


    To Tyson''s surprise, just as the Ebon Hawk ascended, its progress was stopped. He felt Revan''s invisible bonds of Force engulfing the vessel. "You''ve gotta be kidding me," he mumbled, feeling the freighter shaking as its engines strained against Revan''s formidable power.


    "Vicky," he said through gritted teeth, "I need a distraction."


    Vicky''s consciousness, housed within the Gray Goo Suit, heard his request, and the androids in the hangar bay responded immediately. They shifted their focus, and their blaster rifles trained solely on the Jedi, Revan and D''Lavina.


    The two Force users suddenly encountered a relentless barrage of energy bolts. Their concentration shattered as they were forced to focus on deflecting the incoming fire and abandon their efforts to hold the Ebon Hawk in place. Canderous, Carth, and Zaalbar did their best to adjust to the sudden shift in the Troopers'' tactics; they didn''t have a defensive counter but tried to provide cover for their Jedi.


    Then, even more troopers joined the fight. Blaster bolts ricocheted off the durasteel walls, filling the air with the acrid scent of ozone and scorched metal. Canderous unleashed a torrent of curses as he ducked behind a fallen piece of debris. Carth and Zaalbar found themselves pinned down.


    With Revan and D''Lavina fully occupied, their focus split between deflecting blaster bolts and shielding their companions, Tyson seized the opportunity, pouring power into the ship''s engines to free the Ebon Hawk. The freighter surged forward, escaping the hangar bay and soaring into the void beyond. Tyson initially thought of bringing the ship into his Personal Reality. But he quickly dismissed the idea, wary of the potential risks involved. Instead, he opened a portal into the space above Taris. He guided the Ebon Hawk through the portal, emerging in the ecumanopolis''s orbit.


    Once safely in the void of space, Tyson opened another personal portal leading back to the Viewing Platform of the False Star Forge, leaving the Ebon Hawk adrift in Taris'' orbit for now.


    He reported, "The Ebon Hawk is secure,"


    Vicky responded, "D''Lavina and her companions are still aboard the station, trapped in the hangar bay."


    "Good. Let''s see how they handle the next phase of our little game."


    ¡ª Star Jumper ¡ª


    D''Lavina and Avner exchanged a grim look as they surveyed the overwhelming forces arrayed against them. With the Ebon Hawk gone, their escape routes had dwindled to nothing. They scanned their surroundings frantically.


    Carth called out, "There!" He pointed to a corner of the hangar. "An elevator!"


    They had initially avoided it, wary of being trapped in such a confined space. But with blaster fire raining down on them and their options rapidly diminishing, the elevator suddenly looked like their only choice.


    The group made a mad dash for the lift, deflecting blaster bolts and returning covering fire. They piled in, and as the doors slid shut, a barrage of shots peppered the metal surface.


    Carth, breathing heavily, consulted his datapad. "According to the scans of this place, we can take the elevator to the command deck. From there, we follow the corridor to the eastern elevator, which leads to the Viewing Platform. That''s where we should find Malak."


    In the relative quiet of the elevator, D''Lavina furrowed her brow. Finally, she was able to place what was bothering her about their enemies. "These Sith troopers... they have no Force presence."


    Avner nodded grimly. "I took a closer look at the one of the few we defeated. They''re droids."


    Canderous let out a low whistle. "Strongest combat droids I''ve ever seen. And I''ve seen plenty."


    The elevator doors slid open, and they quickly found themselves again in the thick of battle. They fought their way across the station, blasters blazing and lightsabers humming. Surprisingly, the resistance was much lighter here. It was as if the Sith had overextended their forces, focusing on stopping the group at the hangar.


    HK-47 took point, leading them toward the east elevator. They entered a large, circular room, and the droid assassin paused. The door to the east elevator was sealed shut, and no amount of trying to slice the control panel or force the doors open was effective. The other two exits were equally inaccessible.


    Only one door remained open.


    "Observation: This is undoubtedly a trap, master," HK-47 stated.


    Carth grimaced. "We don''t have any other options."


    The others nodded in agreement and cautiously approached the sole open door. It turned out to be another elevator. They stepped inside, and it began its ascent.


    Avner suddenly tensed at a strange sensation at the back of his head. "Something''s wrong," he muttered.


    D''Lavina nodded, her face etched with concern. "I sense it too, but we need to keep moving."


    The elevator doors slid open, and the group cautiously stepped onto the Viewing Platform. Malak stood with his back to them, cutting an imposing figure, silhouetted against the Lehon star and the vast expanse of space visible through the massive viewport. To his side, a few meters away, stood a figure wearing a Mandalorian helmet that watched them enter.


    Carth leveled his blaster rifle at Malak, the others quickly following suit. "Don''t move, Malak," he growled, his finger ready on the trigger.


    Malak slowly turned to regard the intruders. "Ah, the great heroes have arrived. I must admit, I''m impressed you made it this far."


    D''Lavina stepped forward and ignited her green lightsaber with a snap-hiss. "It''s over, Malak. Surrender now, and we can end this without further bloodshed."


    "Oh, but the battle has only just begun, my dear."


    Avner''s eyes darted between Malak and his apprentice. Then, the apprentice reached up and removed his Mandalorian helmet, tossing it aside.


    Gasps could be heard as they realized it was Tyson underneath the mask.


    "Why are you working with him?" Avner demanded. "You''re not Sith."


    Tyson smiled enigmatically. "Things aren''t always as they seem, Avner. Or should I say... Revan?"


    The name hung in the air like a physical presence. D''Lavina''s eyes widened in shock while the others looked at Avner in confusion.


    Malak let out a harsh laugh. "Oh yes, your council has been keeping secrets. The great Revan, reduced to this... a pawn of the Jedi."


    Avner, or rather Revan, shook his head in confusion. "What are you talking about?"


    D''Lavina stepped closer to him. "Revan... it can''t be."


    Tyson moved away from the viewport, circling the group. "It''s true. The Jedi Council captured Revan after Malak''s betrayal. Rather than let such a powerful Force user die, they gave him a new identity." he paused dramatically before saying, "Avner is Revan, reborn. What better way to defeat your greatest enemies than to set them upon each other?"


    The revelation sent shockwaves through the group. Carth''s face twisted in anger and betrayal, while Canderous, surprisingly, looked almost pleased. Revan struggled to process this information as images flashed through his mind. "I... I don''t remember... but I''ve been having visions, or maybe they''re flashbacks."


    Malak mocked, "Of course, you don''t remember. The Jedi took that from you. But now you''re beginning to see, to remember."


    D''Lavina''s grip on her lightsaber tightened. "Even if what you say is true, it doesn''t change anything. We''re here to stop you, Malak."


    Tyson raised an eyebrow. "Are you sure about that, D''Lavina? Did you tell them your secret?"


    All eyes turned to D''Lavina, who suddenly looked uncomfortable. "I don''t know what you''re talking about," she said, but her voice lacked conviction.


    "Oh, I think you do. You''re not who you claim to be either, are you? You''re not even from this universe."


    D''Lavina''s companions looked at her with a mixture of confusion and suspicion.


    The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.


    "What is he talking about?" Carth demanded.


    Her shoulders sagged slightly. "I..."


    Tyson interrupted, "D''Lavina here is an Orion, a race whose women have a unique trait. They release pheromones that allow them to control men."


    Malak laughed coldly. "And here I thought I was the greatest threat to the galaxy. It seems you have an even more dangerous interloper in your midst."


    D''Lavina''s eyes flashed with anger. "That''s not true! I''m here to help!"


    "By manipulating people to your liking?" Tyson challenged.


    Revan stepped between them, his head still reeling from the rapid revelations. "Enough! Whatever the truth is, we''re here now. We need to focus on stopping Malak and destroying the Star Forge." He pointed his lightsaber at Tyson. "Have you allied yourself with the Sith?"


    "I have allied myself with no one but my own goals," he replied. "Malak is merely a means to an end."


    "You''re a fool if you think you can control him," Canderous rumbled, his repeating blaster leveled at Tyson. "The Sith answer to no one."


    Malak''s laughter boomed again as his hand drifted to the hilt of his lightsaber. "Enough talk. It''s time to end this charade."


    D''Lavina tensed, raising her blade defensively. "We don''t have to do this, Malak. There''s still a chance to walk away from the dark side. To join me."


    Malak''s eyes narrowed, and his lightsaber ignited with a crimson blaze. "The only chance you have is to embrace death."


    The Sith Lord charged forward, and his blade clashed against D''Lavina''s in a shower of sparks. Carth and the others opened fire on Tyson, but he activated his red lightsaber and deflected the blaster bolts.


    The clash of lightsabers filled the air as D''Lavina and Malak traded blows. Revan watched the duel unfold, his mind still reeling from the revelations about his true identity. He could sense the power radiating from D''Lavina, her Force presence burning bright and intense. But Malak... there was something off about him.


    Carth and the others continued firing at Tyson, and a few of their blaster bolts even got past his guard. But those bolts dissipated against a shield that rose to protect him. Frustration etched across Carth''s face as he emptied another volley to no avail. Canderous growled as his heavy repeater proved equally ineffective.


    Revan reached out with the Force to sense their opponents'' presence. But it was like grasping at smoke. "This isn''t right," he mumbled, eyeing Tyson warily. "Something''s not adding up." Malak and Tyson''s signatures were muted, almost non-existent. A frown creased his brow. For someone as powerful as Malak, his Force aura should have been overwhelming.


    D''Lavina disengaged from the duel, leaping back to gain some distance. She shot a questioning look at Revan, silently communicating her confusion.


    "I sense it too," Revan said grimly. "Their Force presences... they''re suppressed somehow."


    Malak let out a harsh laugh; his artificial voice grated their ears. "Ah, the great Revan finally begins to see the truth."


    He charged forward. D''Lavina raised her lightsaber to parry the attack. Malak battered her defenses, raining down a flurry of blows that drove her back, step by step.


    Revan moved to aid her, but Tyson stepped into his path. "I''m afraid this is between them, Revan. You''ll have to go through me."


    Canderous leveled his blaster at Tyson. "With pleasure."


    The Mandalorian opened fire, but Tyson parried Canderous'' bolts. In his off-hand, Tyson leveled a remote-control-style phaser and fired at the Mandalorian. Canderous let out a grunt of pain as the stun beam slammed into him, dropping him to the deck. Carth raised his blaster and fired at Tyson. But his red lightsaber deflected each shot with almost casual precision. Carth''s eyes widened as Tyson''s phaser pointed toward him, and then everything went black as he, too, was struck by a stun beam.


    Revan reentered the battle, making a large Force-assisted leap at Tyson. Purple lightsaber met red as their blades clashed in a shower of sparks and crackling energy. Tyson parried and blocked each strike, fighting defensively. Across the platform, D''Lavina found herself hard-pressed against Malak''s assault. A series of rapid strikes drove her back, step by step.


    Zaalbar''s bowcaster spit a barrage of energy bolts at Malak, forcing the Sith Lord to break off his attack to deflect the incoming fire. D''Lavina seized the opportunity, launching a counterattack that turned the tide in her favor.


    Revan disengaged from his duel with Tyson, spinning to aid D''Lavina against Malak. The two Jedi moved in perfect sync. Malak''s defenses crumbled under the dual onslaught. D''Lavina saw her chance and took it. Her emerald blade lanced forward in a blindingly fast strike.


    The blade pierced Malak''s chest. As it withdrew, he sank to his knees. He dropped his blade, and the crimson glow of his lightsaber snuffed out.


    Tyson used the opening to hit Zaalbar with two shots from his phaser, then moved to rejoin the fray, but he was too late. Revan and D''Lavina had already turned their attention to him and raised their lightsabers in a challenge.


    He didn''t back down, engaging the two opponents. They pressed the advantage relentlessly, their strikes coming from multiple angles, probing for any weakness in his guard. Revan saw an opening and seized it. His purple blade lanced forward in a lightning-fast strike. Tyson tried to parry, but the Jedi''s blade sliced through his defenses, cleaving through his forearm in a shower of sparks and severed circuitry.


    Tyson staggered back, and his severed hand and lightsaber clattered to the deck.


    He dropped to one knee, his remaining hand clutching the cauterized stump of his wrist as D''Lavina leveled her blade at his throat.


    "Surrender," she commanded, her voice hard as durasteel.


    Tyson''s head dropped, his shoulders slumping in apparent defeat.


    But Revan''s eyes narrowed as he studied the scene more closely. Tyson''s severed hand wasn''t covered in seared flesh and blood. Instead, it was a tangle of broken circuitry and metal. He glanced at the gaping hole in Malak''s chest, and his suspicions crystallized.


    "It''s not them," Revan growled, his voice laced with disgust. "We''ve been fighting droids this entire time."


    D''Lavina closed her eyes, reaching out with the Force to sense her surroundings. What she felt through the Force and what she saw with her eyes were distinctly different. With a growl of frustration, she threw her lightsaber at the ground. The floor in that area immediately shifted to reveal a simple, solid black floor.


    "It''s a holodeck," she spat. "We''ve been tricked."


    The Tyson-android laughed a deep echoing bellow. D''Lavina cut it off with a quick slice, severing the android''s head from its body.


    Revan''s brow furrowed as he took in their surroundings. "We need to backtrack and follow the original path," he said as he bent down. He claimed the fake Tyson''s red lightsaber and donned the Mandalorian-style helmet he discarded. He glanced over at the prone forms of Carth, Zaalbar, and Canderous, who were still unconscious from the android-Tyson''s stun blasts.


    "What about them?"


    HK-47''s synthetic voice cut through the tension. "Declaration: Leave the meatbags. We need to finish this."


    D''Lavina nodded grimly. "He''s right. We''ll come back for them."


    The three turned and left Zaalbar, Carth, and Canderous behind, with HK-47 leading the way.


    They reached the sealed door they had initially avoided, and Revan jabbed his purple and crimson blades into the heavily reinforced durasteel, slowly slicing through the bulky metal. Eventually, the door fell aside, revealing another corridor leading to an elevator.


    As they moved cautiously forward, D''Lavina couldn''t shake the feeling that they were being watched. Her grip tightened on her lightsaber hilt, and she stretched her senses to their limits but still sensed nothing at their destination.


    Back on the Entertainment Deck, where the androids had fought the group, the real Tyson shimmered into view, deactivating his Scaling Cloak as he appeared beside the prone forms of Carth, Zaalbar, and Canderous. He opened a portal and grabbed the humans. As the elevator doors slid shut behind D''Lavina, HK, and Revan, they remained none-the-wiser that Tyson was dropping Carth and Canderous on beds within the Medical Bay of his Personal Reality. Another quick trip, and they were followed by the Wookie, who was large enough that Tyson needed two hands to carry him.


    Bastila and Mission, who''d been within his Personal Reality since he left Tatooine, stood nearby, their expressions a mix of concern and confusion.


    "What''s going on?" Bastila demanded, her eyes flicking between the unconscious forms of their former companions.


    "They''ll be fine," Tyson reassured, "But they''ve been under D''Lavina''s control. She emitted pheromones to manipulate them. The Medical Bay will clear their system of her influence."


    Tyson opened another portal and stepped through, gesturing for Bastila and Mission to follow him. The two women found themselves in the cockpit of the Ebon Hawk. Tyson opened a portal in space outside the ship. He piloted the modified freighter, heading through the opening to the Lehon system, where the battle still raged. He set the Ebon Hawk in an area away from the battle but in view of the False Star Forge suspended in orbit around the sun.


    The station had previously been in a high orbit, but now it quickly sank toward the star''s surface. Unbeknownst to all except Tyson, this was Vicky''s doing.


    It was the final part of their trap.


    Planned back when they purchased the station. With the A.I. Core and Secure upgrades, the station was under Vicky''s control, and no one could adjust the station''s heading from within.


    The pair were trapped with no escape vessels on a station set on a collision course with a star.


    "D''Lavina and Revan are still on the station," Tyson said.


    Bastila gasped. "You know Avner was Revan?"


    Tyson nodded gravely, he smoothly lied. "I could sense the taint of the Dark Side on Revan." He opened another portal.


    Then, with as much conviction as he could muster, he announced, "I need to make sure they don''t destroy the Star Forge and that Revan doesn''t fully turn to the dark side." He closed his eyes, locking in his resolve, ensuring it was truly his goal. Then he turned to Bastila and Mission, reannouncing his intentions to them and the universe, "I''m going to save the Star Forge and prevent Revan from embracing the Dark Side."


    As he stepped through the portal, Mission called out, "Good luck, Starbreaker!" using his moniker earned in the Taris Dueling Ring for added emphasis.


    On the False Star Forge, Revan, D''lavina, and Revan strode up the steps to the true Viewing Platform to find it empty. Their footfalls echoed off the metal deck plating in the vast chamber.


    Halfway up, HK-47 paused as he stepped into a puddle of viscous silver liquid. The substance clung to his metal feet and legs like a shiny tar.


    "Query: What is this secretion?" the droid grumbled, scraping at it with little success. "Deduction: Undoubtedly, some meatbag''s refuse."


    D''Lavina and Revan ignored the droid''s antics and continued their ascent to the large panoramic windows. Lehon''s enormous yellow-orange star dominated the view, swirling gases and plasma flaring as the station lost altitude. Seemingly caught in its gravitational pull, the False Star Forge sank ever closer to oblivion in the star.


    "We haven''t much time," Revan said. "The Star Forge''s defenses won''t last long in that heat."


    D''Lavina turned to examine the chamber, looking for the computer consoles. There had to be controls for the station''s emergency thrusters nearby.


    "Statement: We will be incinerated. There are no escape craft within the station," HK-47 reported matter-of-factly as he continued fruitlessly wiping at the silver goo clinging to his feet and climbing up his legs.


    Horror etched across her features as she took in the looming inferno. The star swelled before them, its golden flames licking ever closer.


    Revan closed his eyes, his brow creasing in concentration. He flung out a hand, the Force rippling from his fingertips. The station jerked to a halt, metal groaning in protest. Sweat beaded his temples from the effort. But his connection to the Force was strong. He was able to take hold of the ''Star Forge.'' Roaring plasma ejected from the star filled the viewport, and scorching heat was seeping through the hull, warming the Viewing Platform uncomfortably. But with Revan''s intervention, the station no longer fell closer to the star. It now hung precariously on the precipice of the point of no return.


    "We need to leave now!" Revan said through clenched teeth. Veins bulged under the strain as he used all his focus to stave off disaster, but he couldn''t maintain this for long.


    D''Lavina grabbed his hand. She closed her eyes and added her efforts to his. Together, they focused and called upon the Force. Slowly, the station began moving away from the star.


    Revan grunted with the effort. "We can''t... keep this up... for long."


    D''Lavina nodded, her face a mask of concentration. "We need... to find another... solution."


    ¡ª Star Jumper ¡ª


    Tyson stepped through the portal from the Ebon Hawk into the False Star Forge and activated his Scaling Cloak. Invisible to the senses and sensors, he made his way to the Viewing Platform to see Revan with his hand out in concentration. Tyson underestimated his strength in the Force. He single-handedly halted the station''s movement, keeping it from plummeting into the sun. D''Lavina grabbed his hand, adding her efforts to his. Together, they slowly moved the False Star Forge back toward a safe orbit.


    Revan grunted with the effort. "We can''t... keep this up... for long."


    D''Lavina nodded, her face a mask of concentration. "We need... to find another... solution."


    Tyson shook his head at the plot-armor-shenanigans happening before his eyes. They were able to fight against the False Star Forge''s thrusters and the gravitational pull of a star?


    Pure bullshit.


    He crept behind the focused pair, relying on the stealth field of his Scaling Cloak to hide his presence.


    But as he neared, Revan and D''Lavina both stiffened as the Force screamed a warning of impending danger.


    Whirling quickly, Revan leapt clear, but not before Tyson''s upward slash connected with his helmet. The Mandalorian-Style durasteel split and fell off as he sailed away under the power of his Force-assisted jump, unharmed. D''Lavina ignited her blade and thrust it toward where the Force warned of the threat. Her lightsaber flashed through empty air as Tyson followed through his slash at Revan and dodged.


    But his attack had served its purpose. It broke their concentration.


    The False Star Forge groaned as its descent towards the star resumed.


    Her weapon still lit, D''Lavina slashed at Tyson again, but his shield flared to life, stopping her follow-through. Seizing the opening, he grabbed her throat. His Augment strength and Best of the Best Perks combined to create an iron grip. His Perk Q This activated the moment he got his hands on her, mitigating her reality-warping plot armor. He drove his Lightsaber deep into D''Lavina''s chest. She gasped, her eyes going wide in shock. Revan shouted in rage. He channeled the Force, into a focused push, telekinetically throwing Tyson violently away.


    Sliding to a halt several meters away, Tyson swiftly regained his feet as Revan rushed to D''Lavina''s side. Glancing outside, Tyson noted the station''s dangerous proximity to the roiling sun''s surface.


    He was tempted to leave now via portal but didn''t.


    There was no doubt that without confirming her death, the trope where the hero improbably survives would come into play.


    Tyson mumbled, "Vicky, make sure you''re recording this."


    Revan, unmasked after Tyson''s opening slash, looked up. Yellow crept into his eyes as the Dark Side fueled his grief and anger.


    "I will never forgive you for this," he spat, equal parts curse and vow. He ignited both his purple lightsaber and the red one he''d picked up from the android earlier, cutting an iconic figure.


    The Viewing Platform trembled as the False Star Forge continued its descent toward the star. The air grew thick with tension as Revan faced Tyson, wielding his dual lightsabers. Tyson stood his ground, his own Lightsaber and Laser Blade casting an eerie glow across the metallic floor.


    Revan''s face contorted with rage, and his yellow eyes burned with an intensity that matched the star looming outside. With a primal roar, Revan lunged forward, his dual lightsabers whirling in a deadly dance of purple and crimson. Tyson parried the first strikes, and the clash of their weapons sent sparks flying. But the Force-enhanced strength of Revan''s attack pushed Tyson back.


    Tyson ducked under a horizontal slash, feeling the heat of the blade pass over his head. He countered with a quick thrust, but Revan batted it away effortlessly. The Jedi-turned-Sith was a whirlwind of motion, his lightsabers creating a near-impenetrable defense. Tyson gritted his teeth, focusing on maintaining his defense against Revan''s relentless assault. He could feel the heat rising in the room as the False Star Forge drew closer to the star.


    Time was running out.


    Revan feinted left, then struck from the right. Tyson barely managed to deflect the blow, the force of it sending him staggering backward. He bumped into a control panel, and an idea sparked in his mind.


    "The station, Revan," Tyson shouted. "We''re going to crash into the star if we don''t do something!"


    For a moment, Revan''s eyes flickered, a hint of their former clarity returning. But the darkness quickly reasserted itself. "Let it burn," he snarled. "As long as you burn with it."


    Revan launched into another series of attacks. Tyson found himself being driven back, step by step, toward the massive viewport. The star loomed larger now, its fiery surface filling most of the view. Sweat poured down Revan''s face as he attacked. He could feel the heat of the star even through the station''s hull. The False Star Forge groaned and shuddered around them, systems failing as it plummeted toward its doom.


    In a desperate move, Tyson reached out with the Force, grabbing a loose piece of machinery and hurling it at Revan. The Sith Lord sliced through it easily, but the distraction gave Tyson the opening he needed. He lunged forward, his lightsaber arcing toward Revan''s chest.


    Revan twisted at the last second, avoiding a fatal blow, but Tyson''s blade sliced across his arm. Revan cried out in pain and anger, his yellow eyes blazing with renewed hatred.


    The duel intensified as Revan''s fury fueled his attacks. Tyson found himself on the defensive, barely able to keep up with the onslaught. The Grievous training program on the holodeck didn''t hold a candle to Revan''s mastery. His strength with the Force was evident in every move, every strike. He seemed to anticipate Tyson''s actions before he made them. And, using the Dark Side, he bent the Force to his will, making any warnings from the Force unreliable and mandating Tyson rely on his enhanced reflexes and training. Without his weeks of holodeck training, Tyson would''ve fallen quickly under Revan''s impossibly fast attacks.


    Revan pressed his advantage, his dual lightsabers creating a dazzling display of purple and red light. Tyson''s shield flared repeatedly as it absorbed glancing blows, each impact draining its energy. The False Star Forge continued its descent, the heat in the room rising to uncomfortable levels.


    Tyson gritted his teeth, focusing on maintaining his defense. He knew, in terms of raw Force power, he was outmatched. But he had other advantages, if he could just find an opening to use them.


    In a bold move, Revan leaped high, somersaulting over Tyson''s head like he was goddamned Anakin Skywalker. It should have been his doom, a move Tyson could have easily countered.


    But it wasn''t.


    The move was impossibly fast, as if gravity worked differently for Revan. It was more like he teleported rather than jumped. As he landed, he thrust both lightsabers toward Tyson''s back. Tyson spun, managing to deflect one blade with his own lightsaber, but the other slipped past his guard.


    In a split-second decision, Tyson disabled his shield. The purple blade continued forward to thrust through Tyson''s armor¡­


    And winked out of existence.


    Revan''s eyes widened in shock as his lightsaber deactivated upon contact with the cortosis-plating in Tyson''s Gray Goo Suit. The unexpected turn of events threw him off balance.


    Tyson seized the opportunity, launching a counterattack. His Lightsaber and Laser Blade moved in perfect harmony, forcing Revan to discard the purple lightsaber in his retreat.


    The tables had turned.


    Now, it was Revan using both hands on the single red lightsaber and struggling to keep up with Tyson''s assault.


    "Enough!" he roared. Revan raised his hand, and Tyson sensed him gathering Dark Side energy and could see the crackle between Revan''s fingers. He reactivated his shield, and the shimmering barrier appeared just in time to take the Force Lightning attack.


    As Revan ceased his attack, the shield dropped with a slight popping sound. They both knew what it meant. Its power had been completely expended, leaving Tyson vulnerable.


    "This is the end for you," Revan said, "Any last words?"


    Tyson cheekily replied, "Yeah. Look out behind you."


    The Force screamed a warning, and Revan spun, just barely deflecting a blaster shot from HK-47.


    The droid''s usual rusty red color was gone, completely replaced by a silver sheen. Revan closed the distance in the blur of Force Speed, his lightsabers flashing as he slashed at the droid''s neck. HK-47''s head tumbled off, but even as it fell, the Force screamed another warning at him.


    Tyson was on him, his own Lightsaber and Laser Blade clashing against Revan''s in a two-on-one weapons lock. Tyson pushed with all his might, his Augment-enhanced strength far exceeding that of a normal human. But Revan drew upon the Force. His eyes burned with hatred as he matched and exceeded Tyson''s power.


    Then Tyson used Sever Force.


    Revan''s Force-enhanced strength faded, giving Tyson an exceptional advantage. The former Sith Lord was forced to a knee, barely able to hold against the weapons'' lock.


    His blade was trapped, engaged with Tyson. Momentarily cut off from the force, Revan couldn''t receive warnings about any incoming attacks.


    Then, they both heard the unmistakable sound of a blaster firing.


    Revan gasped in pain as a bolt struck him in the back. Another shot rang out, and another, each one punching through his robes.


    The headless HK-47 continued firing, smoke curling from the barrel of his blaster. Revan stumbled, and his defenses faltered.


    Impossibly, the severed droid head that had hit the ground melted and flowed like liquid metal. The silvery goo streamed up and into the droid''s leg, reforming and reshaping the droid into a humanoid figure.


    Vicky.


    Tyson didn''t take any chances. He capitalized on Revan''s failed defenses. With a powerful two-handed swing, he slashed both of his blades in a brutal cross-cut.


    Revan''s body was bisected at the waist, and his head tumbled free a moment later.


    The Jedi turned Sith Lord, turned Jedi, and back again, was dead.


    Moving quickly, Tyson scooped up Revan''s fallen lightsabers and tossed them through a small portal he opened into his Warehouse. Glancing out the viewport, he saw the looming star growing ever larger.


    It wouldn''t be long now before the False Star Forge was consumed.


    Tyson knelt beside D''Lavina''s still form, his face unreadable as he studied her wound. The smell of charred flesh hung heavy in the air.


    He knew what he needed to do. All his preparations had led to this moment. The final step was to put his faith in the plan¡­ and T''Pol''s Vulcan logic.


    He announced aloud, "The Star Forge will be destroyed. I tried to stop it, but it seems I failed. I tried to stop Revan''s fall to the Dark Side, but I failed in that, as well."


    Tyson turned to D''Lavina and said, "I''m worried that the Dark Side has tainted you, like Revan."


    D''Lavina, who''d been clutching her impaled-then-cauterized chest, weakly shook her head, trying to say it wasn''t true. Her eyes now held a mixture of pain and desperation. She struggled to speak but only managed a faint whisper lost in the dying station''s rumble.


    "Though I believe I''ve finally won the Barter By Combat. So you owe me safe passage and accommodations, and I don''t need to be your willing servant." Tyson said lightly.


    D''Lavina''s eyes widened at his words, a flicker of recognition passed across her features, and she smiled despite her grievous wounds. She tried to push herself up, but the pain from her wound was too great. She fell back, gasping for breath.


    "I''m sorry," he said softly. "I had to do it. I needed to stop the Sith Lords."


    He glanced at Revan''s bisected corpse, then back to D''Lavina. "I killed Malak, and I knew Revan would turn to the Dark Side. I knew it the entire time since the moment I woke up in this universe¡­ I knew there was a chance he would. I had to stop him before he could corrupt you, D''Lavina. It was the only way."


    "Why did you have to fight me so hard? I wanted this station to be the hope for the galaxy, but now, it''ll be destroyed."


    "But I''d be lying if I said my reasons were purely altruistic. I wanted you badly when I saw you on that Tramp Freighter. Even from that moment, I knew we were meant to be together. I nearly submitted to you before we were pulled into that anomaly. I thought I''d lost you when I woke up in this universe, and you weren''t there. But, when I first saw you again, you had a harem of men following you." D''Lavina shook her head adamantly, and tears welled in her eyes as Tyson continued, "I admit, I''m a jealous man. It''s why I never became a Jedi. If I had, I''d have fallen just like Revan. I don''t like competition; I''d kill any man who placed his hands on you. But now it''s just you and me, and Vicky, too, right Vicky?"


    "Right," Vicky replied from nearby.


    D''Lavina opened her mouth, but no words came out. She coughed, a trickle of blood spilling from her lips, her eyes pleading.


    Tyson held her in his arms, the Q This Perk mitigating her plot armor. He didn''t need to take any further action. If he just held her in his arms, she''d die from her wounds. He could easily take her life with his weapons or bare hands. She was defeated.


    But he couldn''t be sure.


    Plot armor was fickle like that.


    D''Lavina lay broken before him, no longer the unstoppable force. He gazed down at her pale green face, blood still trickling from the corner of her mouth. A gentle smile played across his lips. "Look at my eyes. There''s no yellow taint of the Dark Side. I haven''t been corrupted. It''s the opposite. I feel like¡­ It''s hard to say¡­ It''s almost like being near you, holding you, has saved me. We''re here, together. I''m with you at the end. We''ve stopped the Sith Lords, and the destruction of this station has been¡­ my redemption."


    Mary Sue (Drawback) Removed!


    Tension drained from Tyson''s shoulders. The conditions had been met. D''Lavina had accepted that she''d redeemed Tyson and made him part of her harem. She''d opposed his actions, the Fake Star Forge was doomed, and she believed she''d turned him to her side.


    The Mary Sue Drawback lifted like a heavy cloak falling away.


    "Don''t worry. Lady D''Lavina. I''ll save you."


    Tyson tore open a portal to his Personal Reality. He lifted D''Lavina''s limp form, carrying her through to his Medical Bay. Vicky followed, assisting as he placed the critically injured Orion onto one of the diagnostic beds. Blue light washed over the wounded woman as the bed''s scanners activated, targeting and beginning to repair the charred flesh where Tyson''s lightsaber had struck.


    Behind them, orange light bloomed through the portal''s opening as solar plasma breached the False Star Forge''s failing hull. Tyson flexed his will, sealing the portal shut before the station''s death could reach through into his Personal Reality.


    Vicky stared at the now unconscious D''Lavina, watching as the Medical Bay went to work healing her. "I can''t believe that actually worked," she said finally, shaking her head. "You managed to completely manipulate her right up until the end. That was some masterful gaslighting."


    Tyson gave a thin smile, though his eyes remained fixed on D''Lavina. "I simply treated the drawback like a prophecy," he replied after a moment. "She was destined to oppose my goals and try to force me into her harem no matter what." He let out a long breath. "I made my goal to keep her from destroying the station, and it ended up destroyed. The true Star Forge is gone, decommissioned. The ''fake'' replacement we put in its place has also been destroyed. The Sith Lords are dead. Both Malak and Revan. With just the two of us left, pledging ourselves to her, her harem quota was met. I gave her exactly what she and the Drawback wanted." He gave a bitter laugh.


    "It''s almost poetic, in a twisted way. We fulfilled her story."


    Vicky eyed D''Lavina''s motionless form, uncertainty furrowing her brow. "Are you certain bringing her here was a good idea? You could''ve just left her to die."


    "Maybe, but a true Mary Sue would find some way to recover. From her perspective, I''ve been redeemed by saving her," Tyson replied, "Besides, if you look at everything objectively, she hasn''t done enough to merit me killing her. She never harmed me. The biggest inconvenience she caused me was destroying the Interdictor and stealing back the Ebon Hawk. But now, I have the Ebon Hawk back, and the Iconic Interceptor has all the qualities of the Interdictor anyway. Besides, technically, HK-47 did those things, and you absorbed him, so he''s ''dead.'' Outside of the Drawback, she would never have been an issue, and without it, thanks to Untainted, I''m immune to her pheromones."


    He looked over the Orion one final time before turning to Vicky completely, "We have time to decide what to do with her. Her wound would''ve been fatal, so it''ll take some time for the Medical Bay to bring her back to full health." He paused, considering, before finishing, "I think so long as we stay true to the conditions that removed the Drawback, we don''t have to worry about her."


    Vicky burst into laughter. "So we''ll have to continue being her harem?" Her shoulders shook as she struggled to contain her mirth. "Great strategy there, Tyson. I can''t believe you''re willing to go along with that."


    "It was T''Pol''s idea. I just put my own spin on it. D''Lavina understands the rules now. I made it clear. No men in her harem, not after what happened to Revan and the others." A ghost of satisfaction crossed his features. "The ''prophecy'' binds her as much as it did us. She won''t risk my fall to the Dark Side or becoming homicidal by recruiting more men. Especially now that she knows what I''m capable of."


    Understanding dawned on Vicky''s face. "You brilliant bastard. You didn''t just escape her harem. With her only able to pick up women, you turned it into YOUR harem."


    The corner of Tyson''s mouth curved upward, and his eyebrows bounced in an exaggerated way that somehow managed to be both playful and smug. "I notice you aren''t exactly complaining about the arrangement." he added, "Just in case, we''ll make another purchase for the Medical Bay to ensure that she''s properly rehabilitated."


    [200 RP] The Counseling Bay (Personal Reality)


    This upgrade helps you (or anyone else) work through any psychological issue. A couch and solid-light therapist are included. This does not work instantly. More severe issues will require multiple hour-long sessions.


    Reality Points: 600


    Shortly afterward, the remainder of D''Lavina''s companions began to stir from their healing. Carth was the first to rise, his eyes blinking rapidly as he took in his surroundings. Canderous, the Mandalorian mercenary, followed suit, and then, finally, Zaalbar roused himself with a low growl.


    Tyson watched as they regained their bearings. "Welcome back to being yourselves, guys," he said, trying to project friendliness.


    Canderous narrowed his eyes, instantly suspicious. "What does that mean?" he demanded, his hand straying toward the blaster at his hip.


    Tyson held up a placating hand. "Come with me. I''ll explain everything to everyone, I promise." With a wave of his hand, he opened a portal, revealing the interior of the Ebon Hawk on the other side.


    Without waiting for a response, Tyson stepped through the portal, trusting the others to follow. They did, albeit hesitantly, emerging into the ship''s main hold. Bastila and Mission were already there, having finished watching the Star Forge''s destruction from the viewport.


    "What''s it looking like out there?" Tyson asked.


    "The Star Forge has been destroyed," Bastila reported. "The Sith forces are in disarray, fleeing the system."


    Tyson nodded, unsurprised. "Let me explain," he said, drawing the attention of the entire group.


    "Back on Taris, after we split, I entered the Leviathan. Lord Malak took an interest in me, and I played along, becoming his apprentice."


    Carth scowled at the admission, but Tyson held up a hand to forestall any interruptions. "When I had the chance, I killed Malak and replaced him with a decoy. A droid. That was what you fought on the Star Forge," Tyson continued. "The problem was that you picked up D''Lavina. Like I told you all, she''s from a species known as Orions. They have pheromones that allow them to control men. When I realized this back on Tatooine, I brought Mission and Bastila with me to get away from her. On the Star Forge, I had to knock you guys out to get them to leave you behind so I could get you to safety." He paused, letting them digest his words. Canderous shifted uncomfortably while Carth and Zaalbar exchanged an unsettled look. "That, and I could sense the Dark Side taint on Revan, even as far back as when we were on the Endar Spire," Tyson went on. "Then I went back and fought them on the Star Forge. Revan is dead, and D''Lavina was gravely injured."


    A heavy silence fell over the group as they processed Tyson''s revelations. Bastila was the first to speak. "You killed Revan?" she asked, her voice tinged with disbelief.


    Tyson met her gaze levelly. "Revan had fallen to the Dark Side again," he said. "He was beyond redemption. He would have retaken the mantle as Sith Lord if I hadn''t stopped him."


    Tyson walked over to a holographic projector. He interfaced his suit to the device, and it flickered to life. The recording showed Revan''s face in stark detail, his eyes the sickly yellow of Dark Side corruption. After a few exchanges, Lightning crackled from his fingertips, the Dark Force energy distorting the air before it branched out to splash upon Tyson''s shield.


    Bastila took an involuntary step back, her face draining of color as she watched the undeniable evidence of Revan''s fall. Carth clenched his jaw as he watched. The recording spoke volumes, more convincing than any words could have been. The image flickered and died as the recording ended.


    Carth shook his head, his expression conflicted. "I can''t believe Avner¡­ Revan would turn like that again," he muttered. "After everything we went through..."


    "Believe it," Tyson said. "And D''Lavina was no better, using her powers to manipulate and control you all."


    Canderous snorted derisively. "I don''t know about the rest of you, but no one was controlling me," he growled.


    Tyson arched an eyebrow at the Mandalorian. "Really? Then why were you following her orders so obediently?" Canderous opened his mouth to retort, then closed it again, having no comeback.


    "Look, I know this is a lot to take in," Tyson said. "But I did what I had to do to protect you all from the influence of the Dark Side, and the Republic from the Sith."


    The crew of the Ebon Hawk exchanged uncertain glances, the weight of recent events still settling on their shoulders. The destruction of the Star Forge, the revelation of Revan''s fall, and the manipulation by D''Lavina had left them adrift, their purpose suddenly unclear.


    After a few minutes of contemplation, he asked, "Where will you go now?"


    Carth opened his mouth as if to speak, then closed it again, shaking his head slightly. Mission fidgeted with the edge of her vest, her usual exuberance dampened by the situation. Even Canderous, typically quick with a gruff response, remained uncharacteristically quiet. Again, it was Bastila who broke the silence. "I suppose we should return to Dantooine and report to the Jedi Council," she said, her voice carrying a hint of resignation. She straightened her posture as if the mere mention of the Council had reminded her of her duty. "They''ll need to know about everything that''s happened."


    Tyson nodded slowly. "That makes sense," he agreed. "The Council would want a full account of what transpired here."


    Carth''s expression hardened slightly. "And what exactly are we going to tell them?" he asked with a note of challenge. "About Revan? About this... Orion woman?"


    "The truth," Tyson replied. "The Council needs to understand the full extent of what was faced here. The threat of the Sith Lords and the Star Forge may be over, but the repercussions of these events will be far-reaching. A new Sith Lord may rise from the remnants. There were still plenty of fallen Jedi among the Sith."


    Canderous grunted in agreement. "No point in hiding anything now," he said. "Besides, I''d like to see the looks on their faces when they hear about all this."


    Mission piped up, her voice small but determined. "What about me and Big Z?" she asked, glancing at the towering Wookiee beside her. "We''re not exactly Jedi material," Zaalbar growled softly in response, conveying his agreement.


    Bastila''s expression softened as she looked at the young Twi''lek. "You''re both welcome to come with us," she assured them. "The Council will want to hear from everyone involved."


    "Before we set course for Dantooine, we should take some time to rest and recover," Carth suggested. "It''s been a long and difficult journey for all of us." The others murmured their agreement, the exhaustion of their ordeal finally catching up with them.


    "What about you, Tyson?" Bastila asked, "Will you be coming with us to Dantooine?"


    Tyson considered his response carefully. He glanced around the hold of the Ebon Hawk, taking in the faces of the companions Revan''s death left behind. "No," he said finally. "I never visited the council on Dantooine. I was posing as Malak''s apprentice while you were there. I was never formally trained as a Jedi. And I worry about what the council will think of my part in all this. I should distance myself from the Jedi and Sith for a time."


    Bastila''s brow furrowed as Tyson spoke. Her blue eyes, usually so clear, were clouded with uncertainty. "I... understand your hesitation. But I believe the Council would greatly value your testimony. Your perspective could provide valuable insights into the workings of the Sith. Your time with Malak, while troubling, could be seen as a necessary sacrifice in the greater fight against the dark side. The Council has shown wisdom and understanding in the past, even in... complicated situations."


    Yet even as she spoke, doubt crept into her voice. Her Jedi training warred with the reality of what Tyson had done, of the choices he had made. She had been raised to view the ways of the Sith as a corruption of the Force. The idea of someone willingly joining their ranks, even as a ruse, went against everything she had been taught.


    "I won''t deny that your time with the Sith would be... problematic in the eyes of the Council. Especially after Revan''s second fall," Bastila admitted, her tone growing more conflicted as she reasoned aloud. "They might question your motivations, your methods. The Dark Side leaves its mark, Tyson. And though I can''t sense it on you. Should they, they would be wary of its influence on you."


    She sighed, her shoulders sagging slightly with her internal struggle. "I find myself torn," Bastila confessed. "As a Jedi, I believe in the wisdom and judgment of the Council. But I also understand your desire to distance yourself, to find your own path."


    Mission, who had been listening intently to the exchange, could no longer contain herself. "You can''t just leave!" she blurted out. "After everything we''ve been through? You were gone for so long, and now that you''re back, I don''t want you to go. You''re part of the team!" Mission''s voice cracked slightly, betraying the depth of her emotions. "I thought... I thought we were friends. You helped us. You saved us from Taris. You saved us from Revan and that Orion woman. How can you just walk away now?"


    She looked around at the others, seeking support. "Tell him, guys! He belongs with us, doesn''t he?" The raw emotion in Mission''s plea starkly contrasted with Bastila''s measured words. The young Twi''lek''s eyes glistened with unshed tears, her usual bravado stripped away to reveal the vulnerability beneath. "Please, Tyson. Don''t go. We''ve lost so much already. Don''t make us lose you too."


    Carth was torn between his suspicion of Tyson''s Sith connections and his grudging respect for the man''s actions. Canderous remained stoic, more intrigued by the potential fallout of Tyson''s decision than any care for the man himself. Zaalbar let out a low, mournful growl, expressing his agreement with Mission and desire for Tyson to stay with the group.


    Tyson''s expression softened as he looked at Mission''s tear-filled eyes. Glancing around at the others, he took in their varied reactions to his decision. He relented, "Alright. I hear you, Mission. How about this? I''ll return in... less than a month to check in on you all. How''s that sound?"


    Mission''s face lit up. "Really? You mean it?"


    "I do. It''ll give me some time to... come to terms with everything that''s happened and handle some other things I''ve got going on. And it''ll give you all a chance to deal with the Council without me complicating things further."


    "That seems like a reasonable compromise," Bastila said approvingly. "It will allow us to report to the Council without immediate concerns about your unique situation while also ensuring we don''t lose contact with you entirely."


    Carth, who had been watching the exchange guardedly, finally spoke up. "I suppose that''s fair. A month isn''t too long, and it''ll give us time to figure out our next steps." His pointed look made it clear that his suspicions hadn''t entirely faded, though he was willing to accept this arrangement.


    Canderous grunted, which could have been interpreted as approval or indifference. Zaalbar let out a series of growls and grunts, which Mission translated. "Big Z says he''s glad you''re not leaving for good. He says you''ve proven yourself a true friend and warrior."


    Tyson nodded, acknowledging each of their responses. "Thank you all for understanding," he said. "I promise I''ll be back before you know it."


    With that, Tyson raised his hand, and a portal materialized in the air beside him. "Until next time. Take care of yourselves. And Mission?" The young Twi''lek perked up at the sound of her name. "Try to stay out of trouble, okay?"


    Mission grinned mischievously. "No promises," she quipped, her earlier sadness all but forgotten.


    With a chuckle and a wave, Tyson stepped through the portal, and then both Tyson and the portal vanished, leaving the crew of the Ebon Hawk staring at the space where he had stood. For a moment, silence reigned in the ship''s hold. Then, slowly, conversations began to pick up as they prepared for their journey to Dantooine.


    Episode: Star Wars Knights of the Old Republic Complete!


    +1000 RP


    Reality Points: 1600


    <hr>


    Tyson


    Origins: Human, Humanoid, Drop-In, Space Pirate, Bad Guy, Officer


    Race: Augment Human-Betazoid (Hybrid)


    Character Points: 150, [250 KOTOR (Vicky)]


    Reality Points: 1600


    Ship Points: 2650


    Credits: 115,350


    Status Effects: (none)


    Drawbacks:


    Gauntlet (Locked)


    Ensign Marty Stu


    A Simple Re''Q''uest


    Hybrid (Betazoid)


    Amok Time/Blood Fever


    Outlawed


    Divine Voyeur


    Perks:


    Cosmic Awareness


    Out of Nowhere


    Going Native


    Live and Let Live


    This is (Not?) Rocket Science


    Kinda Bland


    Determinator


    Painted On


    Snakeskin


    Adaptable


    Duelist


    Master with your Hands


    Best of the Best


    Everything Is A Weapon


    Augment


    Force Specialization: Intelligence


    Tactical Info


    Sever Force


    Specialty: Operations; Sub-Specialties (Communications, Engineering, Piloting)


    Speedy Promotions


    Untainted


    Q This


    Items:


    Laser Blade


    Spacesuit


    Agony Booth


    Cloaking Minefield


    Lightsaber


    Gray Goo Suit


    Transwarp Beam Equation


    Iconic Item: Iconic Interceptor


    Companions:


    (Vicky) V-KO IV Nursedroid: Access Key, Artificial Intelligence Upgrade, Gray Goo Upgrade, Master With Your Hands, Light Weapon, Jumper''s Master Key, Scaling Cloak, Origin: Jedi, Force Specialization: Intelligence, Enhanced Mind, Lightsaber, Armored Robes, Battle Meditation, Origin: AI, Origin: Elite, Memory Banks, Social Algorithms, Above Law and Reason, Pedigree, Planetary Domicile, Photonic Rapier, Security Features, Quantum Locked BUS, Adaptive Personal Force Field, False Star Forge.


    T''Pol: Access Key, Origin: Rubber Forehead, Origin: Elite, Above Law and Reason, Pedigree, Distinct Feature, Everone Likes Green Chicks, Planetary Domicile, Photonic Rapier, Protector Drones, Space Elf, Space Wizard, Symbol


    Personal Reality:


    Access Key (Additional Keys, Key Link)


    Control Room


    Security System


    Antechamber


    Warehouse


    High-Security Inter-Reality Connecting Door (Star Trek Enterprise, Star Wars Knights of the Old Republic)


    Medical Bay (The Nano-Medical Lab, The Bio-Synthesis Lab, Microbiome Replacement Lab, The Counseling Bay)


    Housing Complex (Basic Nutrition, Choice Apartments, Who''s Got the Powa, Pipes Pipes Pipes)


    Playing With Portals (Portal Link, Portal Control Rod, Free Portal, Portal Aperature x4)


    The Mystical Menagerie


    Guardian''s Greenhouse


    Ship Sections (Cryo-Chambers)


    Personal Mini-Reality (The Village, Wildlife for Your Wild Life, The Meaning of Life)


    Spaceships:


    Tramp Freighter (Destroyed - Respawn on 02/28/2365)


    Sith Interceptor (Destroyed - Respawn on 04/18/2365) (Bridge Upgrade)


    Automated Repair Station (Ship Size Rating: IV, Station, Bridge, Space Hulk, Artificial Gravity, Cryo-Chambers, Auto-Repair System, Synapses, Distributed, Automated Ship, Analytic Suite, Docking Port, Transporter Room, Matter Printer, Negentropy Reactor, Deflector Shields, Clarketech Module, Production Lines, Hangar, Cargo Bay, Living Quarters)


    Narada (Ship Size Rating: IV, Artificial Gravity, Alcubierre Drive, Auto-Repair System, Exotic Materials (Nanomaterials), Cargo Bay, Hangar, Hyperdrive (Transwarp), Antimatter Reactor, Navigation Suite, Analytic Suite, Deflector Shields, Missiles, Cyber Warfare Suite (Mining Drill)


    Interdictor (Destroyed - Respawn on 04/18/2365) (Ship Size Rating: III, Artificial Gravity, Hangar, Hyperdrive, Fusion Reactor, Navigation Suite, Point Defense, Deflector Shields, Jump Suppression Field, Beam Weapons, Follower Crew)


    False Star Forge (Destroyed - Respawn on 05/01/2365) (Ship Size Rating: III, Station, A.I. Core, Entertainment Deck, Exotic Materials: Nanomaterials, Modular, Secure, Nanite Shroud)


    Symbol (Ship Size Rating: II, Distributed, Battery Banks, Physical Armor, Beam Weapons, Gravitic Shields, Exotic Materials: Crystal, A.I. Core, Modular, Inertialess Drive)


    Iconic Interceptor (Ship Size Rating: IV) (General Upgrades: Articial Gravity, Auto-Repair System, Bridge Upgrade, Modular, Exotic Materials: Nanomaterials, Exotic Materials: Crystal, Secure) (Sections: Cargo Bay, Cryo-Chambers, Hangar, Living Quarters, Production Lines) (Controls: A.I. Core, Distributed, Synapses) (Crew: Follower Crew, Automated Ship) (Propulsion: Alcubierre Drive, Hyperdrive (Transwarp), Hyperdrive, Inertialess Drive) (Reactors: Battery Banks, Fusion Reactor, Antimatter Reactor, Negentropy Reactor) (Sensors: Navigation Suite, Analytic Suite) (Shields: Physical Armor, Point Defense, Deflector Shields, Gravitic Shields, Jump Suppression Field, ) (Utilities: Docking Port, Entertainment Deck, Transporter Room, Clarktech Matter Printer) (Weapons: Beam Weapons, Missiles, Cyber Warfare Suite (Mining Drill), Nanite Shroud)

 Season 2: Episode 24 - 11001001

    Episode 24 - 11001001


    Stardate: 41364.5.


    Earth Standard Date: May 13, 2364.


    Location: USS Enterprise-D, Starbase 74, Tarsas System.


    Tyson gazed out the expansive windows of Thirteen Forward, watching the Enterprise glide toward Starbase 74. Though he had asked Captain Picard if he could pilot the ship into the dock, Picard briskly declined his request.


    The starbase itself was a rarity. One of the few constructed identical to the iconic design of Earth Spacedock. But unlike that station orbiting Earth, Starbase 74 had weapons. Tyson wondered what merited the massive station in this otherwise unremarkable system. His review of the files on Tarsus had revealed nothing extraordinary. The home system of the Bynars, Beta Magellan, lay nearby, but little else of note could be found. On the galactic map, Tarsus occupied an odd position. Looking at a 2d rendering of the Alpha and Beta Quadrants, the Federation is near the middle. The Klingon empire sits on the right of the Federation border, with the Romulans above them in the upper right. On the opposite side of the Federation, that''s the left, Alpha Quadrant side, pretty much even with where the Romulan and Klingon territories meet is Cardassian territory. Below that are Talarian and Tholians. It seemed excessive to position such a formidable starbase in this relatively quiet corner of space.


    The Enterprise was scheduled for two days of resupply, maintenance, and recreation at Starbase 74. Tyson''s evaluation with Admiral Jameson and Captain Picard was set for later that day. Draining the last of his drink, Tyson left Thirteen Forward and made for Airlock 5, where the Captain requested his presence to greet the maintenance team.


    The doors of Airlock 5 slid open with the hiss of depressurization. Captain Picard and Commander Riker stood at attention as Commander Quinteros strode onto the Enterprise with his team in tow. Flanking Quinteros were two small humanoids, their movements eerily synchronized as they walked in perfect tandem down the corridor. Though diminutive in stature, an air of competence surrounded them. Quinteros wasted no time with pleasantries. "Captain Picard, I trust there have been no issues with the Enterprise''s performance?" His voice was crisp and businesslike.


    "None whatsoever, Commander," Picard replied smoothly. "The Enterprise continues to exceed expectations. All systems are operating at peak efficiency thanks to the diligent maintenance of my crew."


    At this, Quinteros nodded, his stern expression softening almost imperceptibly. "Just as I anticipated. One expects no less from the Federation''s flagship." A glimmer of pride shone in his eyes. "As lead engineer, I oversaw the Enterprise''s construction."


    Riker gestured towards the two humanoids. "And who might these gentlemen be?"


    "The Bynars are not gentlemen. They are two halves of a cybernetic whole. Allow me to introduce Zero One and One Zero."


    The Bynars inclined their heads in eerie symmetry. Their movements flowed in flawless tandem as though controlled by a single mind.


    Picard welcomed the Bynars with a gracious nod. "Your reputation precedes you. I''m very pleased you''ll be improving our systems."


    "It is an honor to work on such a sophisticated mobile computer," One Zero replied.


    "You have forty-eight hours," Picard informed them. "At forty-eight plus six, we have a critical rendezvous at Pelleus Five that cannot be delayed."


    "We anticipated more time."


    Picard lifted an apologetic eyebrow. "My apologies. This mission is time-sensitive. Shall I postpone the work?"


    "Unnecessary," One Zero responded at once. "We can complete all tasks within the allotted window."


    Quinteros nodded. "They work swiftly. Still, forty-eight hours is ambitious."


    "Commander Riker will remain aboard should you require assistance," Picard offered. With an open palm, he gestured towards the young Ensign. "Allow me to introduce Ensign Tyson. He will attend to your needs during your stay."


    The Bynars pivoted in perfect unison, facing the group as one. "It is a pleasure to meet you, Ensign Tyson," One Zero intoned. Beside him, Zero One inclined his head in silent accord.


    Tyson returned a slight bow. Stepping forward, Picard said, "I''m certain Ensign Tyson will provide any assistance you require. Do not hesitate to alert me or Commander Riker if you need additional resources."


    "Your offer is most appreciated, Captain," One Zero responded. "We will be sure to relay any needs to the Ensign here."


    With a final gracious nod, Picard and Riker departed to allow the Bynars space to begin their work.


    As they watched the command duo retreat, Quinteros crossed his arms. "Will that time frame suffice?"


    "It will be adequate," Zero One confirmed simply.


    Satisfied, Quinteros gave them an approving look before glancing at Tyson. "I anticipate no need to trouble the Captain again before the inspection. Please assist our guests as required, Ensign."


    "Of course, Commander," Tyson nodded.


    The Bynars silently led the way into the corridor, with Tyson trailing in their wake. He curiously studied their deep integration with technology. Such extensive use of cybernetics was uncommon. The only other close reference that came to mind was¡­ the Borg, but Tyson quickly banished the dark comparison.


    As he followed the pair of Bynars, a second duo emerged to join their precise lockstep. A series of musical beeps flowed between them.


    No, not music, Tyson realized. Language.


    The Bynar''s speech was so rapid and incomprehensible that it seemed like technological telepathy.


    On the bridge, Picard observed the Four Bynars gathered before the console. Beside them, Wesley Crusher watched in unconcealed fascination. Riker approached. "Captain, were we not expecting two Bynars for this job?" He gestured towards the additional pair. "Do we know who these others are?"


    The response was immediate, the four voices speaking in unison. "Additional units required to complete system upgrades within the allotted timeframe." Their words held an odd cadence, as though the human language did not come naturally. "Increased processing power necessary for efficient system communication."


    As the Bynars returned to their work, Riker shot Wesley a questioning look. The acting-Ensign offered a slight shrug, unconcerned by their manner. "Could just be differences in how their species operates, Commander. We can''t expect humanoid behaviors from every race."


    Tyson, too, harbored doubts about the Bynars. However, he had kept a close eye on them so far. Though engrossed in their work, their focus seemed genuinely fixed on upgrading the ship''s systems. Riker turned to Tyson, eyebrows raised in a silent request. Tyson gave a slight, reassuring nod. He would continue monitoring the situation. Despite lingering uncertainty, Riker decided to go for a walkabout to check different departments. He left Wesley in charge on the bridge, instructing him and Tyson to watch the Bynars. As Riker strode off, Tyson wondered what prompted the senior staff to place such trust in Wesley. Was there a reason beyond his competence? Regardless, Tyson maintained his watch.


    Later, he followed a pair of Bynars to the holodeck. When they reached the doorway, they began tapping away at the arch console.


    Just as they finished, Commander Riker arrived. "Is everything going smoothly?" he asked.


    "We are nearly done," replied Zero Zero.


    "Maintenance is complete," added One One on Riker''s right, matching his partner''s cadence.


    Riker''s eyes narrowed with skepticism. "How much has changed? What exactly did you alter?"


    "Enhancements only. Nothing further," One One responded flatly.


    Riker watched with growing unease as the Bynars slipped into rapid streams of binary, their voices merging into a chorus of chirps and clicks unintelligible to human ears. They went silent, swiveling to face the first officer with that peculiar synchronized motion. Four voices responded in perfect unison, neither threatening nor reassuring.


    "Would you like to try the enhancement?" Zero Zero asked Riker.


    The Commander nodded. "All right. What should I choose? Computer, I''d like someplace to play some music. A little atmosphere."


    The computer responded with its usual prompt. "Specify."


    "Jazz," Riker said after a moment. "Circa 1958."


    "Location," the computer requested.


    "New Orleans. Bourbon Street Bar, New Orleans. Around two a.m." Riker specified.


    "Program complete. Enter when ready," the computer announced.


    As the holodeck doors slid open, Tyson stepped into the smoky interior of the jazz club, trailing behind Commander Riker and the two Bynars. His gaze swept over the intimate setting. Dim lights glowed amber against brick walls, casting a moody aura over the handful of tables. A small stage stood at the front, where a baby grand piano and double bass waited empty beside a drum kit.


    Riker''s face lit up as he strode inside, inhaling the atmosphere. "Very good, very good indeed," he remarked, nodding. He spoke aloud. "Now I''ll need someone to play with. A trio. Piano, bass and drums, and a trombone for me."


    At his words, three musicians flickered into existence upon the stage. They began running through a series of warm-up scales and riffs, the sweet melody of jazz filling the room.


    "Excellent job," he said at last with an approving dip of his head. Yet, the band members alone could not capture the essence he desired. "Now an audience," Riker declared.


    Club patrons began materializing at the tables, but the crowd multiplied too quickly, and the space became crowded. Riker held up a hand. "Whoa, too many," he interjected over the din. "I was thinking of something a little more intimate..."


    The computer obliged as the holographic audience faded away, replacing the crowd with a single woman. The first rendition was a stunning blonde, but Riker found her presence too distracting for his intended purposes.


    "Great job, boys. But, computer, blondes, and jazz seldom go together," he murmured. The holographic image shifted once more, this time revealing a sultry redhead. While her allure was undeniable, she still didn''t fit the bill for what Riker had in mind. He looked at the redhead and said, "Now, that is exceptional. But more sultry."


    Finally, a beautiful brunette appeared at the bar. Her eyes sparkled with intelligence and mischief. She wore a sleek, strap-less dress that hugged every curve, and as Riker approached, she smiled coyly at him. He recognized she was the perfect audience for his private jazz performance. With his characteristic sanguine smile, Riker strolled over to the brunette. His eyes held a playful glint as he straightened his Starfleet uniform with a casual tug. The lone woman had an aura of mystique around her.


    "Gentlemen, if this is what you call enhancement, you''ve got a gift for understatement," he said with a grin.


    The woman leaned in closer, her voice low and husky. "You like what you see?" she asked, sipping her glass.


    Riker''s heart raced as he took in her beauty. "More than words can say," he replied, "What''s your name? Tell me you love jazz," Riker said.


    "My name is Minuet, and I love all jazz except Dixieland," she replied.


    "Why not Dixieland?" Riker asked, intrigued.


    "You can''t dance to it," Minuet explained.


    Riker was entranced. "My girl. What''s a knockout like you doing in a computer-generated gin joint like this?"


    "Waiting for you," Minuet said.


    "Waiting for me? You can''t be serious," Riker said, slightly taken aback.


    "Oh yes, Will. I''ve never been more serious in my life," Minuet responded.


    Tyson watched Riker become enthralled by the holographic femme fatale. Their body language exuded mutual attraction, Riker leaning in with rapt focus while Minuet held his gaze with sultry confidence. Glancing around the jazz club, he noted the Bynars had already made themselves scarce. No surprise there. One look at Riker''s face told him to make a discreet exit if he didn''t want to play the third wheel. With a wry smile, Tyson headed for the holodeck doors, leaving Riker to romance Minuet. If a hologram sparked Riker''s eyes, who was Tyson to judge? He''d slept with Vicky, after all.


    As he stepped into the corridor, Tyson caught sight of the Bynars huddled around the holodeck control panel. As he opened his mouth to inquire about their work, his combadge chirped. "Captain Picard to Ensign Tyson," came the crisp voice of the Enterprise''s commanding officer. "Please join me on the Starbase for a meeting with Admiral Jameson."


    Tyson tapped his badge, responding promptly, "On my way, sir."


    As he spoke, the Bynar pair hurried off down the corridor. Tyson was suspicious at how quickly they left once he''d announced he would be leaving the ship. He approached the holodeck controls, "Vicky, I need you to figure out exactly what the Bynars did," he said quietly.


    His Gray Goo Suit began streaming off him, morphing and shifting as it separated from his body. After upgrading Vicky, all her VIs were integrated into her ''self.'' This meant she could split off his Gray Goo Suit, and it retained nearly all the capabilities of her main body, plus the unique facets absorbed by his suit.


    Vicky, now embodying the suit, began accessing the holodeck interface. Her fingers flew across the controls with a speed that was difficult for even Tyson, an Augment, to keep up with. At one point, her fingers seemed to liquefy, streaming into the console itself. Tyson recognized it as her using the Jumper''s Master Key to break the Bynars'' encryption.


    In less than a minute, Vicky reported, "They used a pre-created program to create a holodeck character. The encryption was to hide that they accessed crew logs, the Enterprise''s manifest, medical records and psyche evaluations, as well as internal sensor data. All were integrated into the holodeck character. The character is currently running on the program within, interacting with Commander Riker. Her name is..."


    "Minuet," Tyson finished, the pieces falling into place.


    "Right," Vicky confirmed. She added, "After this program is terminated, the character will be wiped from the computer banks. Any of her gathered information, her programming, and any traces of her creation will be wiped with her."


    Tyson thought quickly. He remembered this episode, and Vicky''s explanation brought the details to the forefront of his mind. Riker falls in love with Minuet, and after this episode, she''s never seen again. Now he knew why.


    "Okay, here''s what I need," Tyson said, formulating a plan. "Create a local Virtual Intelligence. I need you to copy the program, the Minuet personality, and all the data surrounding her. Have the Automated Repair Station immediately begin creating a Soong-type android exactly matching Minuet''s physical parameters. Use synth-skin so she looks human."


    Vicky processed the request silently as Tyson continued, "Once the Minuet program is terminated, I want all that data integrated into the android. I want an exact duplicate of Minuet, indistinguishable from the program, including her memories."


    He paused, considering the complexity of his request. "Can it be done?"


    Vicky''s response was immediate and confident. "If you had waited until after the program was deleted, no. But I''ve made all the necessary preparations."


    Tyson grinned, relieved. "Great, thanks, Vicky, you''re the best."


    "I know," she replied with a hint of playful smugness in her tone.


    Vicky began to dissolve back into his Gray Goo Suit and flow around him, settling back into place and conforming perfectly to his body. Now, he had a meeting with Captain Picard and Admiral Jameson to attend.


    ¡ª Star Jumper ¡ª


    Tyson stepped into the room, the doors whispering shut behind him. He surveyed the scene, taking in the four officers seated at the head of the long table. Admiral Jameson sat front and center, looking far younger than his years. To his right was Captain Picard. Tyson''s gaze moved to the two unfamiliar faces flanking them. One man stared back, eyes cold and calculating, his appearance tickling the edges of Tyson''s metaknowledge. The woman beside him was an unknown, her stony expression revealing nothing.


    "Ensign Tyson," Admiral Jameson beckoned, "please, have a seat."


    Tyson obeyed, settling into the chair opposite the imposing quartet and Admiral began the introductions. "You know Captain Picard already, of course. Allow me to introduce Commander Luthor Sloan from Starfleet Intelligence. And Commander Nedar Oh, from Starfleet Security."


    Tyson realized this evaluation went far beyond the scope of what he''d expected. The presence of Sloan meant Section 31 had noticed his arrival on the Enterprise. He should have expected as much. He''d already been debriefed by the Department of Temporal Investigations. That alone would have been enough to get him noticed by Section 31.


    Admiral Jameson leaned forward, clasping his hands together on the table and drawing Tyson''s attention from his thoughts. "Ensign Tyson. You''ve been summoned here today for an evaluation of your recent activities aboard Starfleet''s flagship. Your performance will be assessed by this panel, and appropriate action taken." His eyes glinted. "Let us begin."


    "Ensign, let''s discuss your arrival on the Enterprise. You were brought to the bridge by the entity known as Q. Shortly after your arrival, you were introduced to the holodeck. It has been reported that recently, you''ve been able to bring a character named T''Pol, a Vulcan from the NX-01 Enterprise simulation, out of the holodeck. Is that correct?"


    Tyson''s voice was steady as he responded. "Yes, Admiral. That is correct. However, I would like to provide further clarification. What you refer to as a holodeck simulation was, in fact, an alternate reality. The holodeck was used as a medium of transport, so to speak. T''Pol was able to leave the holodeck because she was not a character but an actual living being from that alternate reality."


    Commander Oh was as difficult to read as any Vulcan. Her expression betrayed the slightest hint of skepticism as she interjected. "And where is T''Pol now, Ensign?"


    "T''Pol is currently onboard the NX-01 Enterprise, within her original reality," he replied, ¡°She is currently assisting Captain Archer''s mission to prevent the Xindi weapon from attacking Earth."


    "If what you claim is true, it would have far-reaching implications for our understanding of the universe and the nature of reality. How can you be certain that it was an alternate reality and not just a highly sophisticated simulation?"


    Tyson paused, gathering his thoughts. His time with T¡¯Pol taught him that sometimes, the best way to argue with a Vulcan was to present the logical aspects of his argument and let them come to a natural conclusion. "I can understand your skepticism, Commanders. Holodecks can be disorienting and overwhelming, especially for someone from the past, such as myself. The simulations they project are difficult at times to distinguish from reality. But there was evidence that T''Pol was more than a holodeck malfunction. First, as you''re aware, holodeck characters are complex creations involving forcefields, replicators, and so on. In certain cases, items such as simple things like paper or objects made through replication can leave the holodeck. A common example is if you went swimming, you could leave the holodeck with wet clothes. Characters, on the other hand, can''t leave the holodeck. They¡¯re limited to the technology available. Namely, replicators are unable to create living creatures. Subsequently, T¡¯pol couldn¡¯t have been a creation of the holodeck as she could leave the ship. Secondly, and equally as telling was that T¡¯Pol had a telepathic presence. Counselor Troi on the Enterprise, a betazoid, can confirm. Telepathy is difficult to measure empirically and can¡¯t be mimicked by holography or technology available to the Federation."


    Commander Oh asked, "For clarification, was the sentient holodeck character not a product of the Enterprise¡¯s computer but a creation of your abilities?"


    Tyson mulled over the phrasing for a moment before nodding in agreement with Oh¡¯s statement. It wasn''t inaccurate. The commander seemed pleased at his response. But the Vulcan equivalent of a displeased look still lingered on her face.


    Sloan eyes were sharp with interest as he asked, "What can you tell us about the Q?"


    Tyson took a moment, gathering his thoughts. "The Q are an omnipotent and near-omniscient species. Their species are known collectively as the Q Continuum, or perhaps that is the name of the realm they inhabit, I¡¯m not entirely clear on that point. Regardless, they exist in a realm outside our reality. This may be a layer of subspace or a separate dimension." He paused, trying to balance his metaknowledge with what he should know. ¡°If you¡¯ve read Captain Picard¡¯s reports on first contact with Q, he''s claiming to judge humanity¡¯s worthiness to exist in the wider universe. However, I¡¯d add that there may be another aspect to his interactions. Sometimes, it seems he''s just bored and looking for entertainment. Consider that if his accounting of their existence is accurate, If you¡¯ve seen everything, why not change events a little to see how they play out?"


    "You mentioned omnipotence. Can they do anything?"


    "In many ways, yes. They can manipulate time, space, and matter with ease. They snap their fingers and make things happen. I¡¯m not sure if this is a product of an inherent ability or technology far beyond understanding."


    Commander Sloan nodded, taking in the information. "Thank you, Ensign. Your insight is valuable."


    Admiral Jameson continued, "Ensign Tyson, let''s move on to the Tsiolkovsky incident. The Enterprise crew was infected by a pathogen that significantly lowered their inhibitions. The pathogen was brought back by an away team you were a member of, from a ship where the pathogen killed all hands. Dr. Crusher''s report states that you were the one who provided the cure." He paused, eyeing him intently. "Furthermore, you were instrumental in regaining control of the ship from a rogue crew member under the influence of the pathogen. Is this an accurate account of the events?"


    Tyson kept his eyes steady on the Admiral. "Yes, Admiral, your recounting is correct."


    Commander Oh raised an eyebrow, her curiosity piqued. "According to records, this incident occurred approximately two weeks after your arrival. Your involvement, abilities, and knowledge exceed the expectations of someone in your position. How could you perform these feats, especially shortly after arriving here from the 21st century?"


    "Since arriving, I¡¯ve found I possess unique abilities that have allowed me to tackle situations that others might find impossible. The entity, Q, is the source of these abilities, including having access to a pocket dimension equipped with various facilities. One such facility is an automated Medical Bay. This was the source of the cure for the contagion."


    Captain Picard, who had been observing the proceedings, finally spoke up. "Admiral Jameson, I have worked closely with Ensign Tyson since his arrival on the Enterprise. While his abilities are indeed extraordinary, he has consistently demonstrated a commitment to the values and principles of Starfleet. I would add that in addition to Tyson deposing the rogue crewman, the engines of the Enterprise were disabled, and the ship was in danger. Tyson suggested that Lieutenant Commander Data assist in repairing the engineering malfunction. It is an example of his leadership and clearheadedness in a dire situation. I believe he is a valuable asset to our crew, and without his intervention that day, the Enterprise would likely have been destroyed."


    Admiral Jameson nodded, his gaze fixed on Tyson. "Very well, Ensign. We will take your testimony and Captain Picard''s first-hand observations into account. However, this evaluation is far from over. We have much more to discuss and consider."


    Commander Oh¡¯s stoic expression slipped at the mention of Data, but she regained her composure before asking Tyson, ¡°It is my understanding that you brought up several protocol suggestions to Captain Picard in the aftermath of this incident. Would you care to elaborate on those?¡±


    Tyson nodded, ¡°There were several breaches of security that should¡¯ve been impossible if proper fail-safes were in place. First, the away team returned from a mission with an infectious agent. In any situation with infectious potential, the returned crew should be quarantined and observed, with direct site-to-site transportation to sickbay or isolation, if available. Speaking with T''Pol, I''ve learned this was standard procedure on the NX-01 Enterprise. Perhaps with the advancements in technology, particularly transporters bio-filters, such procedures have fallen by the wayside. However, they still have a place as the Tsilokovsky incident demonstrates. Second, the rogue crewman was able to usurp control of the ship through verbal means, with no command codes needed. That¡¯s entirely too easy to exploit and should be fixed immediately. Lastly, certain areas of the ship should be heavily restricted access and have independent forcefields or shielding systems installed. At a minimum, the areas around the matter-antimatter reactor and warp core in Main Engineering. Also, any area storing weapons, including the armories and torpedo storage or torpedo tube access rooms, should be heavily restricted and monitored. While the actions of the rogue crewman put the ship in danger, it wasn¡¯t greater than the danger presented by an internal torpedo detonation.¡±


    Oh nodded in agreement with each point he made. She made some notes on a PADD.


    Admiral Jameson''s gaze narrowed as he broached the next topic. "Ensign Tyson, let''s discuss the mission to Ligon. The Enterprise was dispatched to obtain the Anchilles Fever vaccine for an outbreak on Styris Four. However, the situation escalated when the Ligonian leader attempted to abduct the Enterprise¡¯s security chief. Reports indicate that you intervened, defeating several of their guards in unarmed combat and escaping, opening a portal to the Enterprise in orbit. Having failed to abduct the security chief, the leader of Ligon transported the vaccine, allowing the Enterprise to complete its mission. Is this an accurate account of the events?"


    Tyson took a deep breath as he replied, "Yes, Admiral, your statement is accurate. However, I would like to point out that the Ligonian leader attempted to ¡®steal¡¯ Lieutenant Yar. Under their culture, stealing from a superior foe successfully is a great feat, which is why their leader perpetrated the abduction. By interrupting his attempt and returning Lieutenant Yar, I ruined any chances of their leader gaining renown in their people¡¯s eyes."


    Commander Nedar Oh crossed her arms, her expression skeptical. "Ensign, while your actions may have aligned with Ligonian culture, the Prime Directive is in place to prevent interference with the internal affairs of other civilizations. It is not strictly relegated to technological contamination. Using abilities of unknown origins to thwart the leader of a planet constitutes interference in its internal affairs. You must understand our concern regarding your involvement in this incident."


    Tyson nodded, acknowledging the commander''s point. "I understand, Commander Oh. However, my actions were taken to protect the lives of a member of the Enterprise''s crew and ensure the success of her mission. I did my best to adhere to the Prime Directive, while also preserving the lives of those on Styris Four who were in desperate need of the vaccine and safeguarding the Enterprise crew member who¡¯d been abducted. Also, generally, when a species takes direct, aggressive action against the Federation, does it not forfeit the protection offered by the Prime Directive?"


    Admiral Jameson leaned back in his chair, his eyes never leaving Tyson. "Ensign, your actions on Ligon, while commendable, do walk a fine line concerning the Prime Directive. As a Starfleet officer, you are bound by our regulations and principles, regardless of the extraordinary abilities you possess. Part of this evaluation is meant to determine whether you can uphold those principles in the face of the challenges and temptations that your powers present."


    Tyson met the Admiral''s gaze, "I understand, Admiral."


    Admiral Jameson cleared his throat, signaling that he was ready to move on to the next topic. "Commander, we¡¯re here to evaluate the actions of Ensign Tyson, not debate the finer points of the Prime Directive. Ligon filed no complaints with the Federation Council through any diplomatic channels, so whatever interference Tyson¡¯s actions may have induced have not been considered significant enough to their people to warrant an official response or discourse. As such, I deem Ensign Tyson''s actions justified, appropriate, and praise-worthy.¡±


    Commander Oh leaned back in acquiescence, allowing the Admiral to continue. ¡°Let''s proceed to the next incident under review. Reports indicate that you engaged in combat with Lore, a Soong-Type Android the Enterprise recovered and repaired, who had deceived the crew by impersonating Commander Data." He eyed him carefully, waiting for his response.


    Tyson nodded in agreement, paying particular attention to keeping his voice steady. "Yes, Admiral, that is an accurate recounting of the events." He purposefully worded his response to avoid addressing the ending where Lore was teleported away, knowing that it would raise further questions.


    "Ensign, can you give us an idea of the capabilities of Lore?" Commander Oh requested.


    Tyson took a moment to consider his response before offering a general overview of Soong-Type Android capabilities. "Lore possesses immense strength, as well as agility and speed higher than human norms. While his combat potential is high, his greatest asset is his impressive computational capacity. Lore poses a significant threat to any starship that encounters him due to his immense potential for usurping control of that ship¡¯s systems."


    Commander Sloan chimed in, his tone grave. "There is a key point left out of the reports. What are Lore''s current whereabouts?"


    "Lore was destroyed, Commander."


    Admiral Jameson continued, "Ensign Tyson, your encounter with Lore demonstrates your ability in single combat. However, I¡¯d like to note for the members of this panel that destroying Lore while tragic to lose such a remarkable individual, prevented the escape of a significant threat to Starfleet."


    Tyson nodded, "Thank you, Admiral."


    Admiral Jameson regarded Tyson for a moment before continuing with the evaluation. "Very well, Ensign. Let''s move on to the next matter at hand, the Enterprise''s encounter with a Tarellian vessel en route to Haven. It seems a civilian illegally transported himself to the Tarellian vessel, and you followed him with Captain Picard''s blessing. Against all odds, it''s reported that you cured the Tarellian Plague. Is this true?"


    Tyson considered the Admiral''s words. "Admiral, your assessment is partially incorrect. No cure was devised. Like with the Tsilokovsy incident, I brought the Tarellians to my Medical Bay, where they received treatment."


    Commander Sloan interjected, "What happened to the Tarellians and their ship?"


    "The Tarellians are currently living within my pocket dimension. There, they can live without posing a threat to anyone and avoid being hunted by other aggressive species. I destroyed the Tarellian ship to remove the risk of it being contaminated and spreading the plague."


    Admiral Jameson said, "Your actions in dealing with the Tarellians and their plague were commendable, but your dimensional pocket raises further questions about the extent of your abilities and the implications they may have."


    Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.


    Tyson nodded, understanding the Admiral''s concerns. "I assure you that I am committed to using these powers responsibly and following Starfleet principles."


    Admiral Jameson''s voice softened as he brought up the next topic, his eyes reflecting gratitude. "Ensign Tyson, now we come to a matter that is very close to my heart. As you know, I consumed a compound that rapidly de-aged me, destabilizing my DNA. After single-handedly defeating the forces arrayed against us on our mission, you personally healed me with your ability, stabilizing my condition. Then, I was administered treatment within your Medical Bay. First, I''d like to thank you again for giving me my life back. Your actions here are not in question, given that I witnessed them firsthand."


    Tyson inclined his head respectfully, acknowledging the Admiral''s gratitude. "You''re welcome, Admiral. I''m glad I could help."


    Commander Oh, intrigued by Tyson''s abilities, raised a question. "Ensign, could you explain more about your healing ability? How does it work?"


    Tyson took a moment to consider his response before answering. "My healing ability allows me to channel energy to heal damage and remove certain conditions. But in the Admiral¡¯s case his body was damaged at the cellular level. I could only stabilize his condition, and repairing his DNA was possible within the Medical Bay."


    Commander Sloan, always keen to explore new possibilities, inquired about the potential of de-aging drugs. "Ensign Tyson, do you think it''s possible to isolate and replicate the compound that de-aged Admiral Jameson? Or teach your healing ability to others. The medical and scientific implications could be profound."


    Tyson shook his head, his voice tinged with regret. "Unfortunately, Commander, I don''t possess the requisite medical knowledge to accurately answer that question. Any queries about isolate the compound would be for the Enterprise''s chief medical officer, Dr. Crusher. Any questions about the acquisition of the base compound would need to be directed at the Admiral as I am unsure of its origins." He hadn''t expected Sloan''s second question and hesitantly answered, "It may be possible to teach a small group of others. I can''t give an exact time frame, but it would likely take a significant effort."


    Admiral Jameson waited, and when no further questions came, he spoke. "Very well, Ensign. Your actions and abilities will be considered as we deliberate on your future within Starfleet."


    As this part of his evaluation drew to a close, Tyson knew that his extraordinary abilities and the choices he had made would be scrutinized heavily.


    ¡ª Star Jumper ¡ª


    Tyson found himself facing the panel once more. Admiral Jameson started, "Ensign Tyson, the panel has struggled to reach a unanimous decision. We''ve considered your actions since your arrival, the reports from your superiors, and of course, Captain Picard''s testimony." The silence that followed hung heavy in the room, each member of the panel watching Tyson intently.


    "Your Starfleet commission clearly denotes your Operations specialties in Communications, Piloting, and Engineering." Jameson continued, "There was one glaring omission in your Starfleet training that became apparent to us."


    Admiral Jameson continued, "All graduates from Starfleet Academy who are on the command track must complete a certain test."


    Tyson frowned at this, his mind racing. Had they seen through his Perk somehow? But then Admiral Jameson delivered the fateful words.


    "The Kobayashi Maru."


    The name hung in the air, resonating with a weight that was not lost on Tyson. The Kobayashi Maru, the no-win scenario, the test designed to push Starfleet''s finest to their limits. "I''m familiar with the hidtorical significance of the test. But what purpose does the test serve now?" he asked, his brows knitted together in confusion. "We''re at peace with the Klingons. The scenario isn''t applicable."


    "That''s a keen observation, Ensign," Commander Luther Sloan said, "However, the Kobayashi Maru isn''t solely about the Klingons. It''s designed to test your mettle, regardless of who the opponent might be." Sloan leaned forward, his hands clasped together on the table in front of him. "The test is updated regularly to reflect the current state of the galaxy. And each time an officer completes it, the scenario is changed. This way, their particular solution can''t be repeated."


    Tyson nodded, absorbing this new information. "So," he said slowly, his curiosity getting the better of him. "Who else besides Kirk has beaten the Kobayashi Maru?"


    Sloan answered, "Montgomery Scott also managed to complete the test," he said. "However, his solution was based on his own hypothesis that had been integrated into the examination. He exploited this hypothesis to complete the exam, but it was later proven false and non-viable in real-world applications. Even though it was judged he did not beat the exam, the test was adjusted to account for the way he''d ¡®completed¡¯ it."


    Commander Oh continued, "Lieutenant Commander Mackenzie Calhoun and Commander Quintin Stone are the only two officers who completed the test without resorting to controversial methods like Kirk and Scott. However, each of their solutions was unique, and like all successful resolutions to the test, they led to a reconfiguration of the scenario."


    A message crackled through the comm system. "Engineering to Captain Picard. We''re getting some very strange readings from the magnetic containment field."


    Picard''s brow furrowed as he tapped his combadge. "Picard here. What''s the situation, Data?"


    Before Data could respond, the ship''s red alert klaxon blared to life. Data''s voice came through again, more urgent this time. "The field is deteriorating. I am initiating Red Alert."


    LaForge''s panicked voice joined the conversation, "Data, I can''t maintain the integrity of the containment field. If the antimatter is released, the ship will be destroyed."


    Picard stood, his face a mask of concern. "Mr. LaForge, what options do we have?"


    "Nothing I do has any effect," LaForge replied, frustrated. "I''m losing it. Data, I''ve rechecked every circuit. This is not a misread by the computer."


    Data''s calm voice cut through the tension. "Computer, situation analysis."


    The computer''s male voice responded promptly. "Estimate release of antimatter in four minutes eighteen seconds. Seventeen seconds. Sixteen seconds."


    Data continued, gravely, "Captain, I recommend we alert starbase. Inform them we are abandoning the ship and initiate an automated sequence for departure. Set course and speed to put maximum distance between the Enterprise and any inhabited planets. Based on all information presently available, the decision is correct."


    "Make it so, Commander. I will join you immediately to oversee the evacuation." He swiftly left the meeting to return to the Enterprise.


    Data''s voice was still projected into the meeting room but was now broadcast throughout the Enterprise. "This is Lieutenant Commander Data speaking for the Captain. Abandon ship. This is not a drill. All personnel. This is not a drill. I say again, abandon ship. All personnel, this is not a drill."


    Crew members moved swiftly through the corridors of the Enterprise, some walking briskly while others broke into a run. The computer''s voice guided them through the evacuation process.


    "Decks two through four to cargo transporters. Decks five through ten proceed to transporters one, two, three, and four. Decks six through sixteen, proceed to transporters five, six, seven, eight, nine, and ten."


    Admiral Jameson ordered, "Commanders, Ensign Tyson, with me, to the command center."


    Tasha and Worf burst through the doors of the Starbase Command Center. Dr. Crusher was already present, her face etched with worry, as she stood next to Commander Quinteros.


    Worf''s deep voice rumbled through the room. "What''s going on?"


    Crusher turned to face them, her voice tight. "The Enterprise is being evacuated."


    "Why?" Worf demanded, his brow furrowing.


    "Some problem in Engineering," Crusher replied, shaking her head.


    Tasha''s training kicked in immediately. She turned to Worf, her voice sharp and authoritative. "Get a Security team together to oversee the evacuation."


    Worf nodded, his response crisp. "Aye, Lieutenant."


    The doors hissed open again, admitting Admiral Jameson, Commander Oh, Sloan, and Ensign Tyson. Sloan moved swiftly to a nearby console, his fingers flying over the controls as he patched the comms into the Enterprise''s bridge.


    Captain Picard''s voice filled the room, steady despite the crisis. "Status report."


    The Enterprise''s computer responded, its female voice eerily calm. "All decks empty."


    LaForge''s voice crackled through next, "Let''s go, Data. We''ve only got forty-one seconds."


    The sound of a turbolift door closing followed, and then silence.


    Tension mounted in the command centre as they waited. Seconds stretched into what felt like hours. Finally, a shimmer of light heralded the arrival of three figures. Data, Picard, and Geordi materialized before them.


    Worf asked, "Commander Riker?"


    Data''s head tilted slightly. "No. Is he not here on Starbase?"


    Tasha''s face paled. "No, we thought-"


    LaForge cut her off, his voice rising in alarm. "You mean he''s still on the Enterprise?"


    Before anyone could respond, Quinteros called out from his station. "The Enterprise''s magnetic field is regenerating."


    LaForge spun towards him, disbelieving, "Wait a minute. How is that possible?"


    Quinteros shook his head, his eyes fixed on the readouts. "Unknown." He paused, then added, "Look. Your ship is almost clear."


    All eyes turned to the massive viewscreen dominating one wall of the command centre. The Enterprise slowly backed out of the space doors. For a moment, it hung there, framed against the backdrop of stars. Despite the crisis, Tyson couldn''t deny the ship looked iconic, majestic even.


    Then, in a burst of light that momentarily outshone the surrounding space, the Enterprise leapt to warp, vanishing from view.


    The command centre fell into stunned silence. Everyone stared at the spot where his ship had been moments before, trying to process the unexpected turn of events. Admiral Jameson was the first to speak, breaking the command center''s stunned silence, "We need answers, and we need them now. Commander Data, what exactly happened on the Enterprise?"


    The android responded immediately, "The situation aboard the Enterprise began with anomalous readings from the magnetic containment field. Despite our best efforts, we were unable to maintain field integrity. The computer estimated antimatter release within minutes, necessitating immediate evacuation."


    La Forge, his face creased with worry, suddenly looked up. "Wait a minute. Where are the Bynars? They were working on the computer core when this all started."


    Picard''s eyes narrowed as he processed this information. "The Enterprise needs to be retrieved or destroyed. We cannot allow the flagship to fall under the control of a hostile power."


    Data added, "The Bynars are obviously still aboard. Another Starfleet vessel must be sent to intercept the Enterprise at Bynaus. They might be taking the ship to their home planet."


    Quinteros frowned. "What makes you think so?"


    "It is the best place for us to start," Data replied matter-of-factly.


    Tyson spoke up, "Sirs, let me try."


    "Explain," Sloan ordered.


    "You wanted me to complete the Kobayashi Maru, the no-win scenario," Tyson said, his gaze moving between Picard, Sloan, and Jameson. "This is a real-life version of that. Let me try to return the Enterprise from its captors."


    Admiral Jameson considered Tyson''s words, then said, "Commander Quinteros, you have three ships in here. We need one of them now."


    Quinteros shook his head. "We''re rushing repairs on the USS Melbourne, but it''s still eighteen hours until she''ll be ready. There''s nothing else you can do."


    Jameson''s gaze shifted to Tyson, weighing his proposal. After a moment of consideration, he asked, "Do you think you can retrieve her?"


    Tyson inclined his head in affirmation.


    "This isn''t the time to gamble," Captain Picard pointed out.


    Admiral Jameson nodded, acknowledging Picard''s concern. "You''re right, of course, Picard," he said, his tone measured. "But do you have a better idea?"


    Picard''s shoulders sagged slightly as he admitted, "I do not."


    Jameson''s gaze shifted to Sloan, who stood silently observing the exchange. He inclined his head almost imperceptibly, a subtle gesture that didn''t escape the admiral''s nor Tyson''s notice. "Alright then," he announced, his voice carrying the weight of command. "Ensign Tyson, your mission is to retrieve the Enterprise and return it here to Starbase 74." Jameson continued, addressing Picard directly. "Captain Picard, as Captain of the Enterprise, and she is your ship, you will accompany Tyson." He paused, ensuring his next words were clear. "Since this is his mission, he is the lead. However, the Enterprise is your ship. You, of course, may overrule his decisions if you feel it is in the best interest of your ship and Starfleet as a whole. Commander Sloan and Lieutenant Commander Data will accompany you as your crew and evaluators," Jameson added, gesturing to the two officers. "The Kobayashi Maru is a command test, and as such, you need a crew to command."


    Data tilted his head, processing the information, while Sloan remained impassive, his eyes betraying nothing of his thoughts.


    Tyson cleared his throat, drawing the attention of the senior officers. "With respect, sirs, I''ll now take command. Commander Data, is it safe to assume from all the given information that the Enterprise has been commandeered by the Bynars?"


    "Based on the available data, that is indeed the most logical conclusion, Ensign," he replied, his voice calm and measured. "The Bynars were the last non-crew members aboard the Enterprise, and their absence from the starbase corroborates this hypothesis."


    "What do we know about the Bynars that would indicate this is a course of action that they would take? They''re not a violent species, so they wouldn''t need the ship for its firepower. What reason would they have to steal the Enterprise?"


    The room fell silent as the officers considered Tyson''s questions. Captain Picard, despite his initial reservations, found himself impressed by the young ensign''s logical approach to the problem. Data was the first to respond, his positronic brain quickly sorting through relevant information. "The Bynars are indeed not known for violent behavior, Ensign. Their society is heavily dependent on computers, specifically a giant master computer on their home planet of Bynaus. It is possible that their actions are motivated by a technological need rather than any aggressive intent."


    Commander Sloan added, "The Enterprise''s computer core is one of the most advanced in the fleet. If the Bynars were facing some sort of computational crisis, it might explain their desperate actions."


    Tyson nodded, absorbing the information. "So we''re potentially dealing with a technologically motivated theft rather than a hostile takeover. That changes our approach significantly. Commander Data, did the Bynars make any unusual requests or show particular interest in any specific systems during their upgrades?"


    Data replied, "They were particularly focused on enhancing our computer''s processing speed and storage capacity."


    Tyson nodded, pieces of the puzzle starting to fall into place. "So we have a technologically advanced species, potentially facing a crisis, who''ve taken a ship with one of the most powerful computer cores in the fleet."


    Admiral Jameson, who had been silently observing the exchange, spoke up. "That''s good thinking, Ensign. But remember, speculation will only get you so far. You need a plan of action."


    "Yes, sir. Our first priority is to intercept the Enterprise. We need to establish communication with the Bynars and understand their motivations. If we can do that, we might be able to resolve this situation without conflict. According to Commander Quinteros, there are no ships within intercept distance, and the Melbourne isn''t spaceworthy."


    Captain Picard asked, "Are you capable of opening a portal onto the Enterprise?"


    Tyson hesitated, glancing towards Admiral Jameson. "I don''t want to pull a Kirk," he said, his voice tinged with uncertainty. "Is using portals cheating? It''s beyond what a normal officer would have access to."


    Jameson considered the question for a moment before responding. "If you have another means of reaching the Enterprise using available methods, by all means."


    Tyson nodded, his decision made. "Alright, let''s move. Everyone to the transporter room." As they began to move, he mumbled quietly, "I need you, Vicky. Be ready," seemingly to no one in particular. Upon reaching the transporter room, Tyson took charge and explained his plan to the assembled team. "We''re going to split into two teams. Commanders Data and Sloan will transport to Engineering."


    He opened a small portal and reached through. He pulled out a belt, holding it up for the others to see. "This is the Adaptive Personal Forcefield," he explained, handing it to Commander Sloan. Since this is a live mission, I''m offering this equipment temporarily to ensure the safety of all involved. This is a personal shield generator. It will take at least three direct phaser shots."


    As Sloan strapped on the belt, Tyson continued outlining the plan. "You will teleport into Main Engineering and assess any threats. Set phasers to Stun. Five seconds after you arrive, Commander Data will teleport in. If there are any active hostiles, Sloan will draw their fire, and Data will assist. Then you will assess the status of the Enterprise." He paused, making sure everyone was following along. "Thirty seconds after Commander Data has teleported in, Captain Picard and I will teleport into the turbolift adjacent to the bridge."


    Commander Data, ever practical, raised a point of concern. "A sound plan, but the Enterprise is no longer within the system and traveling at high warp. It is outside transporter range."


    Tyson nodded, having anticipated this issue. "I possess a Transwarp Beaming Formula that will allow us to transport onto the Enterprise, regardless of her distance, so long as she remains moving at Warp."


    Data''s yellow eyes flickered as he processed the information Tyson had just shared. "I must point out that such a formula does not currently exist within Federation databases, nor has it been discovered or encountered in any logs."


    Admiral Jameson interjected, "I''ll allow it," he decided, "so long as everyone participating is willing to do so."


    "Has this formula been utilized in live testing previously?" Sloan inquired, his eyes narrowing slightly.


    "When the entity, Q, transported me to the alternate past, an experience I detailed in my debriefing with the Department of Temporal Investigations, I used the formula to teleport from Delta Vega onto the Enterprise traveling at high warp through interstellar space. I arrived on the Enterprise''s bridge with no complications."


    Sloan, familiar with the report, merely nodded in acknowledgment.


    "Alright," Tyson said, turning to face the group. "In that case, Commander Sloan, please step onto the transporter pad." He then held out his hand to Captain Picard. "Captain, you''ll be with me. Commander Sloan is protected by the Personal Forcefield, and Commander Data will be covered by Commander Sloan. You''ll be the most vulnerable of this away team."


    Picard''s expression remained stoic. "I appreciate your concern, but it is my ship. I accept the risk."


    Tyson nodded respectfully. "Yes, sir, but it''s unnecessary. I''d like to pass my armor to you."


    Picard''s eyebrows raised slightly. "What about you?"


    "I''m the lowest-ranked member here," Tyson replied matter-of-factly, "thus the most expendable. However, I have another suit of armor as a backup."


    After a moment''s consideration, Picard acquiesced. "Very well, ensign."


    Tyson extended his hand towards Picard. As the captain grasped it firmly, Tyson''s Gray Goo Suit began slithering off his body in quicksilver rivulets, enveloping Picard in a second skin of protective nanofluid. The viscous metal flowed across Picard''s uniform, hardening rapidly into an intricate web of interlaced scales no thicker than a fingernail.


    Simultaneously, Tyson plunged his free hand into a shimmering portal that winked open beside him, reaching into his Personal Reality. He beckoned to Vicky. Though usually humanoid and autonomous, Vicky was a Gray Goo herself, and could willingly reshape herself into a functional Gray Goo Suit. She streamed onto Tyson, wrapping him in a fluid sheath as his original armor migrated to Picard. In moments, the exchange was complete, leaving both men encased in a nano-scale mesh that shifted to match their previous uniforms.


    Tyson lowered his hands. "It might not feel like much, but the suit can harden into protective armor and possesses its own personal forcefield."


    The officers watched this display of advanced technology. Data tilted his head, clearly intrigued by the process. Sloan''s expression remained impassive, but his eyes intently followed with interest.


    Tyson took in the assembled team and asked, "Ready?" A chorus of affirmations echoed through the transporter room.


    "Initializing transport," Tyson announced. In a shimmer of blue light, Commander Sloan dematerialized from the transporter pad. Without missing a beat, Data stepped forward, taking Sloan''s place.


    Tyson''s voice cut through the tense silence, counting down, "5, 4, 3, 2, 1... Initializing." Another burst of blue, and Data vanished from sight. He input the new equation, targeting the turbolift outside the bridge. Setting the delay, Tyson joined Captain Picard on the transporter pad. The familiar tingle of the transporter beam enveloped them, and 30 seconds later, they materialized in the turbolift adjacent to the bridge.


    Wasting no time, Tyson tapped his combadge. "Commander Data, report."


    Data''s calm voice crackled through the comm system. "The Enterprise is moving toward the Beta Magellan system at Warp 9. Controls are locked out from Main Engineering, and there are no hostiles. The Bynars are all located on the bridge."


    Picard moved to access the turbolift controls. The computer''s monotone voice responded, "Bridge access denied."


    "They''ve locked it off," Picard said. "We must find another way to get in." He paused, considering their options. "One of us could beam into the Bridge, but it takes several seconds to materialize. We''d be vulnerable during that period and have to rely on the armor."


    "I can override the lockout," Tyson said. He held his finger up to the access panel, forming the Jumper''s Master Key. Nanobots streamed from his fingertip into the panel. For a moment, nothing happened. Then, the computer''s voice reported.


    "Bridge access granted."


    The turbolift doors slid open with a soft hiss, revealing the bridge of the Enterprise.


    Captain Picard entered first to find the four Bynars lying propped up against each other, appearing unwell. His voice carried a stern yet concerned tone as he demanded, "Why did you steal my ship?"


    One Zero managed a weak reply, "Please try to..."


    "Help us," finished Zero One.


    Before they could explain further, the two Bynars slumped against each other, unconscious once more. Picard''s brow furrowed as he considered the unconscious aliens. "They appear to be dying," he said grimly. "Let''s see if we can get some answers."


    Tyson moved to the navigation console to assess their situation. "We''re in orbit around Bynaus." The viewscreen flickered, revealing the Enterprise had entered planetary orbit around Bynaus, the Bynars'' homeworld. "Sensors indicate the Bynars'' planetary computer is off. All sensors reveal that all of the equipment on the planet is inert. They can neither receive nor send any messages."


    Picard''s expression grew grave as he processed this information. "What about all the people in that world who are dependent on their computer? What is this all about? Why did they steal the ship and bring it here? What is their purpose?"


    Tyson accessed the Enterprise''s computer. "Looking through the computer core, it appears they cleared as much space as they could. Captain, it''s enormous. Every byte of free space in the computer has been filled." He paused, studying the data intently. "It appears that they must have made a core dump from their world to our computer."


    Picard''s eyes widened as the realization dawned on him. "Why?"


    Tyson continued to analyze the sensor data. "A star in a nearby system went supernova. The electromagnetic pulse from the explosion must have knocked out their main computer."


    Understanding washed over Picard''s features. "So their only choice was to transfer all the stored information and shut it down until after it passed. And then reactivate their system and transfer the information back to this main computer. The Enterprise has the only mobile computer large enough to handle all that information. So what went wrong? Why are they dying?"


    "We were delayed, sir. We arrived at Starbase 74 later than scheduled. We should return the data stored on the Enterprise''s computer back to the one on Bynaus."


    "I concur. Start the transfer."


    The computer''s monotone voice responded, "Access denied."


    Tyson held his finger up to the console, and the Jumper''s Master Key streamed in, a torrent of nanobots flooding the system. The computer''s voice rang out once more, "Access granted."


    As the Bynars'' systems started up, the four aliens began to stir, regaining consciousness. They rose to their feet, speaking in tandem.


    "Our world...


    ...is reactivated.


    Our people...


    ...express their gratitude.


    We will return to your starbase for whatever...


    ...punishment your system requires of us."


    Picard''s expression softened slightly as he regarded the Bynars. "Why didn''t you just ask for our help?" he asked, in a tone that was more understanding than accusatory.


    The Bynars conferred amongst themselves for a moment before Zero One responded, "You might have...


    ...said no.


    Our need was too great...


    ...to risk rejection."


    Picard considered their response for a moment. "No one has been hurt. You have achieved your objective. You have your planet back in order. We have our ship."


    Tyson reported, "Standing down from red alert. Contacting Commanders Sloan and Data and Starbase 74 to inform them of the situation. Return course to Starbase 74 set, engaging at Warp two."


    Tyson found himself deep in thought as the Enterprise cruised back to Starbase 74 at a leisurely warp. The recent meeting with Admiral Jameson and the panel, particularly Commander Sloan, weighed heavily on his mind.


    Section 31 had their eyes on him.


    If he was already under surveillance, perhaps he could turn this to his advantage. After all, why not gain something from a circumstance that was already in motion? With this thought in mind, Tyson discreetly accessed his system menu, scrolling through the available Drawbacks.


    Two options caught his attention, and he weighed the pros and cons. On the one hand, the Drawbacks would grant him additional points for something already happening. On the other, it would intensify Section 31''s focus on him, potentially complicating his life. The Drawbacks offered a substantial point boost, but at what cost? Even more pressingly, after preparing to confront D''Lavina, Tyson was extremely low on Character Points. The Reality Points had been rolling in steadily, and he had a surplus of Ship Points. However, the only way to gain Character Points was through Drawbacks.


    [+100 CP] Black Coat Society (Drawbacks)


    Section 31 is real, and they''ve suddenly taken a major interest in you. While you''re here, Section 31 agents will constantly try to get you to join their organization. It won''t matter how many times you say no. They''ll keep coming after you like a bunch of yandere stalkers until you agree to join them. They''ll never hurt you but expect to be kidnapped or manipulated into doing their dirty work.


    [+300 CP] Alien Threat (Drawbacks)


    You''ve been targeted by two incredibly powerful and dangerous intelligence organizations, the Cardassian Obsidian Order and the Romulan Tal Shiar. Both of these organizations have significant authority over their governments, and they will do everything in their power to capture or eliminate you.


    Character Points: 550


    Tyson confirmed the Drawbacks. He had just willingly placed himself in the crosshairs of not only a secretive Federation organization but also two of the most dangerous alien intelligence agencies in the quadrant. But points were points, and such attentions were likely inevitable.


    Tyson stood from the navigation console. "Captain, if you''ll excuse me for a moment, there is one final matter I must attend to before we reach the Starbase," he said.


    "Of course, Ensign. We''ll be docking within the hour."


    "Aye, sir. I''ll be back on the bridge before you know it."


    ¡ª Star Jumper ¡ª


    Tyson entered the holodeck, stepping into the atmospheric Bourbon Street Bar. The air was thick with the scent of whiskey and cigar smoke. Jazz music played softly in the background, a melancholic tune that matched the mood of the lone figure hunched over a table. Commander Riker sat alone, his broad shoulders slumped, nursing a glass of amber liquid. The usual twinkle in his eyes was absent, replaced by a distant, forlorn gaze. His fingers absently traced the rim of his glass, lost in thought.


    Tyson approached quietly, pulling up a chair at Riker''s table. The scrape of wood against the floor seemed to snap Riker out of his reverie.


    "She''s gone," Riker said. He didn''t look up from his drink. "I tried variations of the program. Other girls appeared, but not Minuet."


    Tyson nodded sympathetically. "It was all part of the Bynar''s programming," he explained gently. "She was made as a distraction for you. Their programming was complex. She was unique. They hacked into all the personnel files and internal sensors to create a woman perfectly suited to you." He paused, letting the information sink in. "But it was all designed with the equivalent of a digital self-destruct command to cover their tracks."


    Riker sighed deeply, his shoulders sagging even further. What Tyson said made too much sense. He knew it was true, but the knowledge didn''t ease the ache in his chest. "She''ll be difficult to forget," he admitted, taking a long swig of his drink and downing the remainder in one gulp.


    Tyson leaned forward and smiled. "Luckily, you''ve got the best Ensign in Starfleet looking out for you."


    Riker raised an eyebrow, a flicker of his usual humor returning to his eyes. "Oh? You gonna cheer me up somehow?" He gestured to the piano in the corner. "Maybe you''re good on the keys."


    Tyson snorted, shaking his head. "I don''t think more jazz will cheer you up." A mischievous glint appeared in his eye as he asked, "Commander, did you ever wonder what happened to Lore?"


    Riker''s brow furrowed, caught off guard by the sudden change in topic. He leaned back in his chair, studying Tyson''s face. "I hadn''t thought about it in a while," he admitted, curiosity creeping into his voice. "But now that you bring it up, you never did explain exactly what happened to the android."


    Tyson leaned in, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "Let me tell you about the Star Forge first." Riker raised his eyebrows, intrigued by the sudden shift in conversation. He gestured for Tyson to continue, his earlier melancholy momentarily forgotten. "The Star Forge was an ancient space station. It was created by the Rakata, an incredibly advanced ancient species within the other galaxy I can access. This wasn''t just any space station, Commander. It was a factory of unimaginable power and scale."


    Riker leaned forward, invested in the story. "What made it so special?"


    "It drew energy and matter directly from a star," Tyson explained, his hands moving animatedly as he spoke. "With this power, it could create an endless supply of starships, weapons, and droids. But here''s the catch. It was more than just a super-advanced production facility. The Star Forge was imbued with the dark side of the Force."


    Riker''s brow furrowed. "The Force? Like that power you can use?"


    "Exactly. But the dark side corrupted it. The Star Forge didn''t just create. It fed on the dark side emotions of its users, amplifying their hatred, fear, and anger. It drove its users further into darkness. It was a tool of ultimate power, but also of ultimate corruption."


    "Sounds ominous," Riker said.


    "It was," Tyson agreed solemnly. "That''s why I had to destroy it. But that''s not the interesting part, Commander. The important part is that I didn''t just destroy it. I rebuilt it."


    "Rebuilt it?" Riker echoed.


    "Without the corruption," Tyson quickly added. "I stripped away the dark side''s influence, leaving only the incredible technology behind. What remained was essentially that galaxy''s most advanced replicator, capable of recreating anything."


    Riker sat back, processing this information. "That''s... incredible. But what does this have to do with Lore?"


    "I''m getting to that. When Lore attacked me, I disabled him and brought him into my Personal Reality. Once the replacement Star Forge was complete, that''s where I took Lore."


    Riker leaned forward, fully engaged now. "And then what?"


    "I had it dismantle him," Tyson said matter-of-factly. "Atomized him, really. But in the process, the Star Forge gained the equivalent of a replicator pattern. A replicator pattern for a Soong-type android."


    Riker''s eyes widened as understanding dawned. He whispered, "You don''t mean..."


    Tyson didn''t respond verbally. Instead, he waved his hand, and suddenly, a portal appeared next to their table. The holographic bar patrons continued their activities, oblivious to this new development.


    Riker stared at the portal, his mouth slightly agape. He could make out a figure on the other side. As he watched, transfixed, the figure stepped through.


    It was a tall woman with flowing dark hair and piercing blue eyes. She wore a red dress. But it wasn''t her beauty that made Riker''s breath catch in his throat. It was her face¡­ a face he thought he''d never see again.


    The woman smiled as her eyes locked on Riker''s. When she spoke, her voice was exactly as he remembered it. Warm, melodious, with just a hint of playfulness.


    "Hello, Will," Minuet said.


    Episode: Star Trek The Next Generation - 11001001 Complete!


    +200 RP


    Reality Points: 1800


    Tyson


    Origins: Human, Humanoid, Drop-In, Space Pirate, Bad Guy, Officer


    Race: Augment Human-Betazoid (Hybrid)


    Character Points: 550, [250 KOTOR (Vicky)]


    Reality Points: 1800


    Ship Points: 2650


    Credits: 115,350


    Status Effects: (none)


    Drawbacks:


    Gauntlet (Locked)


    Ensign Marty Stu


    A Simple Re''Q''uest


    Hybrid (Betazoid)


    Amok Time/Blood Fever


    Outlawed


    Divine Voyeur


    Perks:


    Cosmic Awareness


    Out of Nowhere


    Going Native


    Live and Let Live


    This is (Not?) Rocket Science


    Kinda Bland


    Determinator


    Painted On


    Snakeskin


    Adaptable


    Duelist


    Master with your Hands


    Best of the Best


    Everything Is A Weapon


    Augment


    Force Specialization: Intelligence


    Tactical Info


    Sever Force


    Specialty: Operations; Sub-Specialties (Communications, Engineering, Piloting)


    Speedy Promotions


    Untainted


    Q This


    Items:


    Laser Blade


    Spacesuit


    Agony Booth


    Cloaking Minefield


    Lightsaber


    Gray Goo Suit


    Transwarp Beam Equation


    Iconic Item: Iconic Interceptor


    Companions:


    (Vicky) V-KO IV Nursedroid: Access Key, Artificial Intelligence Upgrade, Gray Goo Upgrade, Master With Your Hands, Light Weapon, Jumper''s Master Key, Scaling Cloak, Origin: Jedi, Force Specialization: Intelligence, Enhanced Mind, Lightsaber, Armored Robes, Battle Meditation, Origin: AI, Origin: Elite, Memory Banks, Social Algorithms, Above Law and Reason, Pedigree, Planetary Domicile, Photonic Rapier, Security Features, Quantum Locked BUS, Adaptive Personal Force Field, False Star Forge.


    T''Pol: Access Key, Origin: Rubber Forehead, Origin: Elite, Above Law and Reason, Pedigree, Distinct Feature, Everone Likes Green Chicks, Planetary Domicile, Photonic Rapier, Protector Drones, Space Elf, Space Wizard, Symbol


    Personal Reality:


    Access Key (Additional Keys, Key Link)


    Control Room


    Security System


    Antechamber


    Warehouse


    High-Security Inter-Reality Connecting Door (Star Trek Enterprise, Star Wars Knights of the Old Republic)


    Medical Bay (The Nano-Medical Lab, The Bio-Synthesis Lab, Microbiome Replacement Lab, The Counseling Bay)


    Housing Complex (Basic Nutrition, Choice Apartments, Who''s Got the Powa, Pipes Pipes Pipes)


    Playing With Portals (Portal Link, Portal Control Rod, Free Portal, Portal Aperature x4)


    The Mystical Menagerie


    Guardian''s Greenhouse


    Ship Sections (Cryo-Chambers)


    Personal Mini-Reality (The Village, Wildlife for Your Wild Life, The Meaning of Life)


    Spaceships:


    Tramp Freighter (Destroyed - Respawn on 02/28/2365)


    Sith Interceptor (Destroyed - Respawn on 04/18/2365) (Bridge Upgrade)


    Automated Repair Station (Ship Size Rating: IV, Station, Bridge, Space Hulk, Artificial Gravity, Cryo-Chambers, Auto-Repair System, Synapses, Distributed, Automated Ship, Analytic Suite, Docking Port, Transporter Room, Matter Printer, Negentropy Reactor, Deflector Shields, Clarketech Module, Production Lines, Hangar, Cargo Bay, Living Quarters)


    Narada (Ship Size Rating: IV, Artificial Gravity, Alcubierre Drive, Auto-Repair System, Exotic Materials (Nanomaterials), Cargo Bay, Hangar, Hyperdrive (Transwarp), Antimatter Reactor, Navigation Suite, Analytic Suite, Deflector Shields, Missiles, Cyber Warfare Suite (Mining Drill)


    Interdictor (Destroyed - Respawn on 04/18/2365) (Ship Size Rating: III, Artificial Gravity, Hangar, Hyperdrive, Fusion Reactor, Navigation Suite, Point Defense, Deflector Shields, Jump Suppression Field, Beam Weapons, Follower Crew)


    False Star Forge (Destroyed - Respawn on 05/01/2365) (Ship Size Rating: III, Station, A.I. Core, Entertainment Deck, Exotic Materials: Nanomaterials, Modular, Secure, Nanite Shroud)


    Symbol (Ship Size Rating: II, Station, Distributed, Battery Banks, Physical Armor, Beam Weapons, Gravitic Shields, Exotic Materials: Crystal, A.I. Core, Modular, Inertialess Drive)


    Iconic Interceptor (Ship Size Rating: IV) (General Upgrades: Articial Gravity, Auto-Repair System, Bridge Upgrade, Modular, Exotic Materials: Nanomaterials, Exotic Materials: Crystal, Secure) (Sections: Cargo Bay, Cryo-Chambers, Hangar, Living Quarters, Production Lines) (Controls: A.I. Core, Distributed, Synapses) (Crew: Follower Crew, Automated Ship) (Propulsion: Alcubierre Drive, Hyperdrive (Transwarp), Hyperdrive, Inertialess Drive) (Reactors: Battery Banks, Fusion Reactor, Antimatter Reactor, Negentropy Reactor) (Sensors: Navigation Suite, Analytic Suite) (Shields: Physical Armor, Point Defense, Deflector Shields, Gravitic Shields, Jump Suppression Field, ) (Utilities: Docking Port, Entertainment Deck, Transporter Room, Clarktech Matter Printer) (Weapons: Beam Weapons, Missiles, Cyber Warfare Suite (Mining Drill), Nanite Shroud)