FicWad

- War -

--War Rages--

30

(((BOOM)))

An explosion took out the entire forward controls of the Bird's command centre sending Data's mechanised frame spiralling into the ceiling with a crunch, and smashing back down into the deck.

A metal rafter creaked above and Data flipped quickly onto his back to witness the heavy girder that hung overhead dislodge itself and drop.

A rage that burned hotter than the fiery pits of hell rose up within him and the girder froze suddenly mid-fall against Data's raised feet. He roared and tossed the metal beam aside.

Confusion had its grip on everything around him as his minions fumbled aimlessly. He rose from the shaken deck and began pulling his sh-t together. As he checked the destroyed controls he had his creatures verify the ships' status. What came back was a mixed bag. Most systems worked well enough - seemingly they had avoided the worst of the blast - but the cloak wasn't looking good. The cloak that was linked directly to his double-layered cloaking device. The same double cloak his torpedo launching commands were routed through.

"Shields! Ready shields! And bring disruptors up to full power!"

Things were about to get rough. And he didn't like it.

*

Ripples of visibility passed across the hull of the Bird as enemy Fighters regained their equilibrium and regrouped, forming a protective shell about the Scoutship.

*

Geordi La Forge stepped out of the turbolift and onto the bridge of the Enterprise. Picard acknowledged him with a nod of gratitude. As he made his way to the aft engineering station he glimpsed the Bird of Prey materialising on the viewscreen and he allowed himself to feel a degree of triumph.

Worf vocalised their success: "His cloaking device has been disabled, Captain."

A smile almost surfaced at the corner of Picard's mouth. "Mr. Worf, please signal the Rutherford with orders to target all hostile light-craft."

"With pleasure," he replied.

"Lay in a pass across the Bird of Prey, Mr. Jutla. Target phasers and photon torpedoes on their weapons and propulsion systems."

*

Commander Vaun took the orders at the Rutherfords' tactical station and passed them onto his crew. Pilot Chevva Swift set the Akira-class Starship rolling, Danil Oom worked Ops, and at the rear of the room, Anya stood enveloped in a cloak of terror beyond anything she'd experienced since the moment she became human again.

"Any words of advice from the expert, Miss?" Vaun asked of her.

She struggled with the question a moment as she observed the mass of vessels shown on the big TV screen on the wall... "Hit them hard. Take no prisoners. Demons like to play dirty so... watch your back. ... Watch all our backs."

"You heard the lady. Take us in, Chevva. Hard and fast."

"Dat's me speciality, Commanda'."

*

Deep in the belly of the Rutherford, Xander Harris sat with the boarding party in the security office - phaser rifle in-hand and the power cell clamped between his feet. His was a tense waiting game. Yet, all his mind and heart was focused on his precious flower. Anya.

She had to get through this okay. She just had to.

*

The U.S.S Rutherford charged forth with all her shuttles and the captain's private yacht - drawing in fire from the hostile fleet. The Enterprise slipped in behind them, her target - the very villain who created this war.

Captain Dave Freeman prepped the weapons of the Narayan as the bullet-like shuttlecraft slipped by its own squadron. In the tiny Nightingale, Lieutenant Gataana turned to Saskia and wished her good hunting.

*

Data didn't have a command throne any longer in his broken bridge. But he stood as if a King at its centre and drew ready to meet the assault.

Reports came in:

Primary shields still holding. Weapons at 90 percent max.

He knew the Enterprise would come for him. He would target their weak Stardrive section and see an end to Picard and his crew of hero wannabe's.

*

Enterprise passed over the Bird of Prey, pounding half a dozen torpedoes into her along with a tirade of phaser fire. In return, her engineering section took a multitude of disruptor hits before she went out of range.

*

"Her shields are weakening," Worf reported. "Ours stand at sixty percent."

McPhee had thrown some extra power into the Stardrive' starboard shields, holding her up well.

"Bring us about the long way round, Mr. Jutla," instructed the captain. "Also...I'd like to ask the fleet for some cover..."

*

With the USS Rutherford and Starfleet shuttles focused on taking down the enemy fleet, and the Enterprise targeting the Bird of Prey, the Klingons being the Klingons took it as fair game: a free hunt. The Warship fired on anything hostile that dared to move with her countless gun turrets and disruptor cannons. Her damage so far was minimal, and still 8 of her Attack Fighters were operational.

New orders came in across the fleet from the Enterprise.

Every remaining Starfleet shuttle and Klingon Fighter converged on the edge of the dispersed gas cloud and began to attack Data's ship in a wild frenzy.

*

His command deck rocked, but Data kept his footing. Shields were depleting but torpedoes were almost routed back to the main controls, and he was having none of this nonsense.

"They're trying to confuse our sensors... fire disruptor cannons - full spread!" he screamed aloud.

*

The Bird fired off a number of blasts from her wing-tips into the swarm of shuttles. Most of the shots vanished into the fleet as it quickly parted - to reveal the Enterprise as she burst through the cloud and unloaded all barrels.

The Bird of Prey took direct hits on all sides.

*

The whole fight, for Darkness, had slipped into Hell. His ship was barely holding itself together. Shields almost exhausted. Computers crashing. Fires in all sections.

But weapons were working! And he always had his Evil will!

*

A group of seven shuttles possessed of Evil spun around at that moment and in a terrible suicide attack, they drove themselves headlong into the Rutherford. Another nine took the same kamikaze mission to the Enterprise and both great ships were hit by a storm that turned the stomachs of their crews inside out.

The Rutherford's shields were drained badly and damage had been taken to key sensor clusters.

Worf reported the Enterprise' shields were dangerously low...

*

"We have lost phasers," added the Klingon, still not completely recovered from his whiplash.

"Stay on the Bird," Picard continued defiantly. "Quantum torpedoes. Target weapons and shields."

*

Commander Vaun saw fallen crewmen all across his bridge. He rolled over, signalling Hutchinson to take his tactical post before dragging himself over to the civilian girl.

"Locate that Klingon heap," he ordered as he checked Anya over. She stirred.

"Having a little trouble getting a reading, Commander," Hutchinson noted. "Looks like we've got some scarring to the primary sensor clusters."

"Try, Ensign. And prepare a torpedo spread; lock onto their shield generators and weapons systems."

Vaun slapped his communicator badge. "Can we get a medic to the bridge?"

After a moment of struggling, Hutch found their enemy. "Got it."

"Fire!"

*

Both ships fired together unexpectedly and the smaller Scout took the double impact of twin torpedo spreads - writhing like a wounded snake.

The Bird was crippled in every way and hung together only by a thread.

*

At last the chance he was striving for had come! Picard shot up from his command chair. "Chancellor, Ambassador - prepare the boarding party." He reached the turbolift as Worf and Martok moved to join him. "Will, you have the-"

(((BOOM)))

A great fireball burst out from the heart of the Bird!

The captain physically staggered back. '.../Data.../'

On the massive viewscreen, the Bird of Prey - gutted across her belly - seemed to 'drop out of the sky'.

Picard quickly returned to his seat. "Report?"

Jumping back to his terminal, Worf rushed a scan. "Severe internal damage; they have lost all helm control."

La Forge had patched into the tactical systems as soon as he'd seen that last explosion tear into Data's ship. He checked the scout's speed and heading. "Captain! They're on a collision course with the gHin TAQ!"

"Raise them!"

"Already performing evasive manoeuvres!" Worf responded.

Martok looked up from beside him with distant eyes. "...It is too late."

*

The Bird of Prey slammed into the shields of the gHin TAQ and burst through them - its shields designed to deflect weapons, not other ships. The small scout impacted on the hull of the giant Warship and shattered apart, but the heavily armoured skin on the surface of the gHin TAQ protected it from the worst of the explosion.

The massive Klingon flagship began to list to one side - slowly drifting off its axis and towards the planet below.

*

Picard saw the Bird destroyed and gripped onto the edge of his seat. "Data..." He realised then that the Negh'Var-class Attack Cruiser showed signs of damage more severe than one would expect. "Status?"

Geordi already studied his panel. "I can't explain. There's no reason for the loss of control."

"Open a channel."

"No response," said Worf.

Martok turned from his aft station. "The impact overloaded their shield generator."

"Sensors are picking up some residual energy patterns," La Forge noted. "From multiple transports!"

Was it possible the crew of the Bird could have made it to the Warship within such a tight window of opportunity?

Martok cried out: "Their life-support has gone offline!"

Geordi spun back to the sensor display. "I'm detecting hundreds of forcefields cordoning off sections of the ship."

It was Darkness! He was on the bridge!

"The Klingons are trapped, sir!" said the engineer.

"Confirm - their shields are down?"

Worf verified quickly. "Aye, sir."

"Drop shields; beam them aboard. As many as you can."

"I cannot, Captain," the Klingon replied surely.

"What?"

"They're coming about!" cried Martok. "Locking on weapons!"

...That ship could pound through the Enterprise' shields in 3 or 4 good shots!

Picard slammed into his chair and held on for dear life. "Full power to shields! Evasive manoeuvres!"

*

The fully armoured Warship turned on the 2 Starships and brought her many disruptor cannons to bear on them. Green cannonballs of energy went forth from her metal flesh and tore into both Starfleet vessels. Soon her Mega-distruptor was charged to full intensity and she unleashed devastation upon her enemies.

The Enterprise physically spun on impact and her shields evaporated.

The Rutherford received a second jolt from the Mega-weapon - throwing her shields down to 15 percent and further compounding her sensor glitch.

Enterprise' impulse engines fired up, sending her into a retreat arc; giving her crew an opportunity to gather composure.

*

Deep within the Enterprise:

Finally, they were ready. In all the shaking and quaking, things had at last fallen quiet and the spell was prepped. A triangle of sand marked a barrier around the ingredients of the casting. In the centre lay the clamshell containing more sand. Beside it, the granite bowl of ground incense. Next to that, a charcoal block and a Klingon dagger - kudos to Buffy for that - and an Eyghon talisman soaked in blood. Finally, in Giles' corner, the 13th candle stood waiting to be lit.

"Well..." Giles said, setting down 2 containers for trapping Darkness, and scanning the room, "that's everything. ...I think."

Willow, with PADD in-hand, shot him an irked look, which he replied to with a shrug. It wasn't like anything was certain here.

"Damn," Buffy cussed with a click of her fingers. "I forgot the popcorn, kids."

Rupert allowed himself the slightest smile. "And, on that note..."

"Let's get to it," she finished.

The Scoobs took to their corners. Willow sat at the head before the windows, Buffy - the Anchor - to her left, and Giles to her right - The Caster.

He passed an eye over their young faces and considered making some comment about 'luck' or 'crossing fingers'. In the end, he abandoned it as fluff. No reason to delay any longer. Rupert reached down with a quivering hand and brought up a small ignition device. He set the charcoal block carefully in the sand-filled shell and fired up the igniter. Leaning into the heart of the Triangle, he brought the igniter down to meet the charcoal.

Already he was sweating with fearful anticipation.

The point of no return had arrived...

((BOOM))

Part of the deck beyond the guestroom next-door exploded suddenly out into space with a thundering pop. Everything around them rose to the ceiling and crashed back to the deck in a state.

Buffy landed in a crouch and caught a site that she would never easily forget. All the contents of a half dozen rooms blew out into space. Equipment. Furniture. People.

She watched their twisting, flapping bodies fly away into the expanse.

*

Shattering earthquakes bombarded the Enterprise until her hull cracked.

A sudden and bone-jarring impact took the bridge by surprise and a side terminal sparked and blew.

Lieutenant Sallyanne McPhee shielded her face from the blast. In that instant, a sliver of shrapnel tore across the bridge and embedded itself straight through her ribcage - throwing her over the workstation and into the deck.

Picard staggered back into the command chair. "Medical team to the bridge! Report!"

Riker stumbled over to the empty seat at Ops.

"Direct hit to the portside pylon!" called Worf.

La Forge feverishly worked his aft station. "Captain, we're losing the port nacelle!"

*

The left wing trembled terribly as it weakened under the pressure of the ships' flight and right through the centre a great fissure formed. The enormous pylon folded slightly... Then cracked in two, severing the warp engine from the vessel in sparks of flame.

Enterprise rumbled on as the nacelle twisted in space behind her - shards of debris trailing in its wake.

*

Riker struggled with his controls. "I'm having trouble holding her together, Captain."

"Hold her together, Will!"

His controls signalled a critical warning. "I can't!"

*

The stump of the wing burst open from within and, like a bomb, exploded.

*

"Losing helm control, sir!" Jutla cried out. "She's off-balance!"

"Compensate, Geordi."

"She's unresponsive."

Riker turned. "Inertial dampers failing!"

*

The portside wing - now nothing more than a jagged blackened stump - sealed off as emergency bulkheads closed. Much within the open wing was lost as no power could be made available for forcefields.

*

"Divert power to the dampers."

Geordi checked his display. "The structural integrity field is taking up everything we've got left - and it's barely holding."

The ship groaned from dented bow to crippled stern, and her bridge creaked and shuddered as they began to feel the turbulence of their flight.

Picard winced.

"Structural integrity field at fifteen percent!" warned La Forge.

There was nothing for it. He opened his mouth and, loath to say the words, he uttered simply: "Abandon ship."

None present were surprised nor protested.

Riker opened the internal comm. as he also typed - for the benefit of areas where the comms were down but terminals remained operational. "Emergency notice; crew to escape pods. All hands, abandon ship. Repeat; all hands, abandon ship."

Picard moved across to Riker at Ops. "Locate the nearest suitable landing site and program the escape pods. Somewhere other than Epsilon Six if possible, Will."

After trying so hard to keep the 6th planet free from interference, he had to get his people to another safe, UNpopulated location.

Riker quickly complied.

*

Giles groaned and cradled his throbbing head as he pealed his body from the deck. Managing to sit upright, he found a little blood leaking from a small cut at his right temple. His heart sank the moment he saw the state of his quarters as the entirety of its contents had been lifted and slammed down by a great impact - scattering and wrecking almost everything in his site.

He kicked a chair away from off his bruised legs and looked about for the girls.

Buffy he found instantly - she crouched in the centre of the room staring out the window with the most horrible pale expression on her sweat-covered face.

A moment later, Willow appeared intact from behind the overturned couch. The pair followed Buffy's gaze. There wasn't much left to view.

"I saw people," she uttered.

Rupert and Will could only imagine the horror. The trio seemed to freeze at the shock of the situation. What in the hell were they going to do now?

Then the door zipped open to reveal a security officer. His face flushed, hair dishevelled and the pin-badge absent from his uniform.

"Come with me," he demanded, waving his arm out into the smoky corridor.

Buffy shot up. "What happened?"

"Please follow me now."

Willow pointed to the mess that had been their spell shrine. "But...our-"

"There's no time!" he snapped. "This way. Please!"

The man's tolerance seemed to reach its limit when they hesitated at the notion of abandoning their all-too-important work.

"MOVE!"

Giles alone noted that this man wasn't either of the 2 guards he'd witnessed posted outside his door. And it was Giles also who noticed them missing as they retreated from the room.

Outside, the passageway was awash with smoke and floating debris. But, not 10 metres away, the corridor visibly and abruptly ended. Beyond it - nothing but outer space. And the 2 security men were gone. Standing guard at his door, it seemed, had been their final duty.

"We need to hurry," said the guard. "This way."

Buffy swallowed her heart back into her chest and said, as they moved away from the gaping hole: "Giles, we can't leave now!"

Given the situation he wasn't sure exactly how to argue that point. He did however try to broach the subject: "E-excuse me, Officer-"

The man didn't acknowledge as he led them further away from their room and clear of the smoke.

Buffy impatiently broached the subject with greater verve: "Where are we going?"

"Orders from the bridge, Miss," the officer responded without looking back. "We have to evacuate this level. They need to close the bulkheads and seal the deck - those forcefields won't hold out for long."

She looked to Giles. But he could only admit that their mission had been ruined beyond all hope. The ship simply wasn't safe anymore. And this entire level was about to be exposed to deadly space.

The group moved quickly along the passage until they reached a Jefferies tube hatch. The man led them into a wall tunnel that Buffy and Will recognised from their early escape attempt, and up the ladders to the next level.

The officer - a yellow-shirt - sealed the floor hatch and moved to a working wall panel to report the lower deck clear. As he did so, he discovered Riker's updated notice:

Immediate evac on all levels.

"Come on. Quickly." He slipped into a jog.

The Scoobs gave chase.

"Where are you taking us?" Giles called forth.

"To the escape pods. And I'll have no arguments!"

"The what?" Buffy yelled in confusion.

"Lifeboats. We're evacuating the ship."

"Wait-"

"I said NO arguments!"

And so he kept on going, and they were forced to keep on following him - through heavy shaking, bursts of smoke and fire, and hard impacts - until he stopped them finally where huge hatches had dropped from the walls to create ramps into the lifeboats.

He ushered them quickly into the small pod but before he could lock the hatch, Buffy returned and stopped him. They were a man down. Giles was missing!

"Wait here for me," said the officer. "I'll retrace our steps and get him back here-"

"No!" Buffy insisted adamantly. "I'm coming with you!"

"Look!...Miss...Please." He put up his hands in appeal. She could see he was young and struggling to keep his composure. All he wanted was to do this one task he had been assigned.

"Please," he went on. "I need you to stay together here. I'll go back for your colleague right now so I can get you all safely off this ship. ...Okay?"

Buffy sighed heavy and stepped down. "You promise you'll find him?"

He put a fist to his chest. "You have my word."

"Go," she said, and no sooner had she stepped inside the pod when she heard the hatch close behind her with a thud.

Security Officer Fournier noted the girl on the small interior video link as she hurled fists and profanity his way through the half-meter thick door.

"Sorry," he uttered, before releasing the escape pod into space.

*

Rupert gradually became aware of his consciousness. He opened his eyes to a blurry world and ran a hand over his face to confirm he was missing his spectacles. He seemed to recall a few knocks and minor explosions on their run to the lifeboats - one of which he accredited his current state to. But just where was he? And more importantly...where were-

"Your spectacles, sir," came the familiar voice of the young officer they were following.

Rupert slipped his glasses back on and accepted the man's help to stand. Around him he observed a metal panel at his feet and a number of pipes exposed from above.

"I wasn't sure I'd find you," the officer said. "I sent the girls on ahead so now I gotta get you to another pod. Can you walk, Mr...?"

"Giles. Yes. I'll be fine, thank you. Lets go then shall we?"

"Sure. Sounds like a plan to me, Mr. Giles. Lieutenant Fournier, by the way."

Rupert's response was suddenly interrupted by the shivering and hissing of a hanging length of pipe.

Fournier felt it wise to just go, so he steered Giles away. But, as he moved, a sudden terrible thing happened. The pipe - filled either with something toxic, hot, or both - split in half and swung up, blasting its contents into Lt Fournier's face. Screaming out in shear agony, he stumbled backwards - beating at his face with flailing arms - and crashed to the deck.

Giles, the instant the venting stopped, went to the man but saw nothing he personally could do. The man's face was melted into something unrecognisable. His arms still flapped about. His body shaking. Something close to a cry sounding from someplace inside his head.

Giles closed his eyes and put a hand against the wall. He couldn't even bare to imagine Fournier's pain. Everything had gone wrong. He had never expected any of this to happen. It was a complete mess. A disaster of epic proportion. And he had to face it... They weren't going to perform any spell.

He opened his eyes again. To hell with it. The spell was ruined. There wasn't a hope of solving this war with magic. It was time to do something useful.

Ripper took Fournier in his arms and hoisted his quivering body over his shoulder.

"Hang in there, son. I'll get you to a doctor."

Beverley could surely use a hand right now.

*

The USS Rutherford made every effort to evade the green energy blasts that lashed at her, but the very number of cannons bombarding them made Chevva's attempts utterly futile.

Hutchinson struggled with tactical. "I'm blind here, Commander. I can't even see the gHin TAQ to make a lock."

Vaun left Anya's side, calling again for a medic, and headed around to Hutch.

Danil, the part-Vulcan Betazoid, reported from Ops: "Sensors are no longer responding. We're fighting a ghost."

The bridge rocked hard and something rumbled deep below.

"Shields down, sir." Hutchinson informed them. "And last word from Enterprise is she's in evac."

"We can't take much more of this," Vaun considered as another impact jarred them. "Evac sounds like a good idea right now - set it in motion."

Hutch moved off to turn the plan into action, but Dan piped up: "We have an E.E.V problem. We took heavy damage to the dorsal ring. We're down by eight pods."

"I guess we ain't all gittin offa dis boat," Chevva added.

"Not a problem," replied Vaun. "Means there'll be enough of us left to make a dent in that Warship."

*

Xander realised, when his fellow security team members began dispersing from the office with talk of evacuation and escape pods, that they wouldn't be boarding any ship today. Which left him with only one other concern. He dropped the rifle, kicked away the power cell, and ran to the bridge.

*

"Hutch - fire a full phaser spread. If you see anything light up on that screen you hit it with everything," Vaun instructed.

The room jumped again and trembled.

"Damage report?"

Dan huffed. "I dunno where to start..."

"Negative impact...that I can tell," reported Hutchinson.

The girl groaned at Vaun's feet and he returned to tactical. "Hutchinson - please take the young lady here to an E.E.V and get her clear of the Rutherford. I don't think we'll be needing her 'expert' advice any further."

"Aye, sir." He moved off again to carry out his order, but this time the lift doors opened to reveal Xander, panting and sweat-covered.

"Belay that order, Ensign. Back to your post." Vaun switched over to the tactical map at the back of the bridge. "Get her and yourself out of here, Mr. Harris. Where are my enhanced sensors, Dan?"

Xander raced across to Anya as she lay on the deck. She was making faint noise and stirring slightly. It was a good sign, he thought, as he tried to wake her gently. She seemed in a deep sleep and so he took hold of her shoulders and rocked her. "Anya? ...Anya? Wake up, Sweetie."

She only groaned louder.

"Anya!" He shook her.

SLAP! She sprung up and threw her hand across his face.

"OW!" He recoiled. "Hello! Ow!"

Her eyes almost popped out in surprise. "Oh! Honeybunny..." She now threw her arms around him and squeezed him preciously. "I am sooo sorry."

"Hey!" Vaun yelled down to them. "You still here?"

/Right/. "C'mon." Xander took Anya by the hand and led her away just as quickly as he could.

By the time Xander managed to find the way to a lifeboat ring, the yellow-shirt there had no good news. Xander insisted he put Anya in a lifeboat. He had some crazy notion about getting onto a shuttle somehow and fighting in this war. But the yellow-shirt could only tell them that all the working pods were spent. There were no little boats left to take them off this big boat.

"There has to be a way," Anya groaned. "I don't want to stay here anymore."

The Rutherford quaked under fire. Xander gave the officer a pleading look.

The blond-haired Bajoran sighed and worked his systems terminal. After a time he said: "Alright, guys...we have an option..."

He managed to locate an escape pod without a full crew, passing them by at close range. Enterprise model ASRV-173. "I'm gonna tie into the emergency beam-out transporters.... And put you on one of those boats...this'll take some precision workmanship..."

Xander caught his breath. "Um... transporters? The beamy thing? No. Absolutely no."

"Not an option," the guy replied, making computations.

"Send Anya," Harris pleaded. "Get her someplace safe - I can stay and help here-"

She punched his arm viscously. "You'd send me away to watch you die here-?"

"HEY!" snapped the yellow-shirt. When he was sure he had their attention, and that they were nicely still, he smiled. "Have a safe trip."

With that, their entire existences broke down into infinitely minute particles of energy and shot across space.

*

"I think we're heading for that planet!" Willow shouted, looking at the computer screen to the front of the pod. She was strapped in tight as the lifeboat shook turbulently as it careered across the void between the Enterprise and the baron planet ahead.

Buffy - strapped in opposite her - bounced in her seat. "I swear I'll never put a banana through the harrowing trauma of becoming a smoothie ever again."

Things eased off a touch then and their flight became almost calm.

To their surprise, 2 figures suddenly faded into reality before them. And one of them had his eyes scrunched tight, squealing like some kind of pig-hawk creature.

"Xander!" Buffy beamed, unclipping herself instinctively.

"Anya!" added Willow.

The pod lurched and Buffy slammed back into her seat.

"Seatbelts!" Will called out.

The Slayer clipped herself back in. "Bad move. My bad."

Anya strapped a dribbling Xander in before fastening herself down beside him. Soon as he was recovered and settled he began feeling to see if his face was on the right side of his head.

Turbulence returned with a bite as they sped toward the planet - no doubt right through the war zone.

Buffy yelled out over the din: "How did you guys get here?"

Right then, without warning, something struck them violently - jolting them like a fairground ride and spinning the tiny boat around.

The lights flickered above them and went out.

Soon enough, calmness returned and the pod seemed to now glide softly without a shake or shudder and low-level lights gave them visibility again.

Buffy unhooked herself and looked out from a tiny porthole beside her seat.

Willow slipped over to the chair in front of the computer terminal. Not a single glimmer of life remained in it. On the wall, however, by the porthole, a single small sensor panel remained lit and functional. She examined it. "Looks like we're still heading to the planet," she said.

Xander and Anya got up from their seats.

"What happened?" asked Anya.

Will played with the panel. "I don't know. I think maybe something hit us. Debris or something. But...Oh, no."

"What?" Buffy tensed.

"We've lost the computer!" answered the witch. "It must have overloaded."

"Or possibly it was blown into the next millennium!" Xander scoffed.

Willow shook her head at the sensor read-out. "This isn't good. This is bad. Very, very bad."

Buffy stepped over to her. "What are you saying?"

"Without the computer's automated systems, our approach trajectory-"

"Will! In English. Please," begged Xander.

Buffy nodded appealingly.

"Okay." Willow turned to address them all. "When we hit the atmosphere of that planet... if we're not in exactly the right position... at the perfect angle..." She took in a sharp breath. "We'll burn up on entry."

Anya verbally gasped. That was followed by sighs from everyone.

"The computer was supposed to calculate that trajectory," Will explained.

(Xander felt the weight of reality crush him completely. His legs fell numb and cold. Nausea threatened to take hold of him. He stepped away to the porthole and looked out. No fresh air for him there.)

"I've decided. It's official. I hate space," he mumbled to himself.

Buffy fought to find reasoning. "Can't we calculate the trajectory ourselves?"

"Even if we could..." Willow considered, "...we don't have thrusters. We're a drifting duck."

"I KNEW it!" snapped Anya. "I was right all along! We ARE going to die!"

"We're NOT going to die!" insisted Buffy.

(Xander saw out the tiny window as wreckage floated gently by and an apparently stationary Starfleet shuttle - still lit up - came into view.)

The Slayer struggled to accept the facts. "Willow - can you fix the damage? Get the computer-"

"Buffy... there's nothing I can do."

(Something flashed through his mind. The craziest thing.)

"I just don't know enough about these computer systems..."

Their voices faded away from Xander as he began pressing buttons on the only remaining computer panel that hadn't exploded in the crash.

Willow saw him aimlessly trying to decipher the screen before him.

As Buffy and Anya began to argue their fate, Will walked over to him carefully. "Xander?"

He looked like he was beginning to lose it.

He slammed a finger against the small window. "That shuttle," he whispered, shaking faintly. "Is it damaged badly?"

Willow used that one working short-range sensor panel to find out. "Some external damage but nothing major. Oh, wait," she said, reading the display some more. "There's a hull-breach in the cockpit."

"How big?" he asked.

"Small. Like... pea-sized, maybe."

"But it works?"

"I think so. But...there's no one in there to fly it. ...Not even bodies. ...That's weird."

That seemed to both satisfy Xander yet, at the same time, increase his despair. He looked back out the window as they slowly moved past the craft. It was SO close.

(He closed his eyes tightly and tried not to think.)

Willow put a gentle hand on his back. "Are you...?" .../What? Okay?/ Of course he wasn't okay. They were facing certain death.

(He almost felt like he was floating. His body seemed to stop at the hips and he was surprised that he was still standing, as his legs had NO feeling. Only that hollow drunken feel that came with true fear.)

"Xander?"

(It was Willow. She was talking to him.)

"We've faced worse than this," she said.

But had they? Really? Where were the vampires? Or the demons? Or the other psychotic creatures that usually were the face of their almost-certain-deaths?

No.

This time they were sat in what was basically a flying computer that even Willow couldn't fix - on a crash-course with hot fiery deadness. This was well and truly something else.

(Yet there was a thought on the edge of his mind that threatened to make him feel impossibly worse than he did at that moment. He just couldn't focus.)

"My God," Willow muttered to him. "You're really sweating."

(He thought he could feel her hand on his forehead, but he was trying too hard to concentrate to be sure.)

His eyes were still tightly shut. Like a pair of Jack-in-the-boxes just waiting to burst open.)

In the background, Buffy and Anya were still in heated conversation. Accusations of blame were flying between them.

(Xander remembered something. Something Captain Freeman... Dave ...had told him.

'It helps to have something to focus on.')

"If Dawn hadn't read the stupid inscription in the first place-" Anya spat.

"I don't believe you!" cried Buffy. "You're blaming Dawn for THIS?"

Anya went on: "And if YOU hadn't left her alone with the box-"

"ME? Anya-"

"And Giles just HAD to leave it lying around-"

"STOP!" Buffy physically put a hand on her. "You can hand out blame all day," she said. "But it ISN'T helping. Anya-"

(At that moment, Xander found his focus. It was love. His lifeline. 'Anya!')

His eyes snapped open.

They watched with fear and curiosity as Xander began tearing open the locker-style sections of the wall.

There HAD to be other emergency measures in place for if the computer systems failed in these cans. He pulled out all kinds of weird crap in his search - spreading most of it across the deck - until he came to a wall section that had a touch-pad key. He pressed it and the door slid open a crack before it jammed.

Buffy took a step in his direction. "Xander, what are you doing?"

He didn't answer. He couldn't give them false hope.

The door was truly stuck, so he gripped the edge in his hands and with shear determination he managed, with some struggle, to open it almost halfway. It was enough, as he could already see what he was looking for. He peered right inside the 'closet' space and saw seven spacesuits in all.

The other Scoobs watched him stop again - his hands against the wall - eyes wide shut. But only for a moment. He seemed to gather himself again and began a new search.

He looked high, low and everywhere between, but could not find it. Not even ONE. No jetpack. He stopped again. Who was he kidding? He had NO idea how to work one of those damn things anyway. Dave had taken care of that side of his previous space-walk.

"Xander?" Willow said, quite worried. Probably for his sanity. Like maybe he was at the end of his rope.

He had to face reality, though. Last time he'd been along for the ride. He COULDN'T do it. Not by himself. He COULDN'T. He just couldn't.

"Xander?"

It was Anya. 'Anya'. He sighed a long and shaky breath. Without a jetpack he wasn't sure it could be done.

(But, after all, wasn't he a man? Wasn't he MORE of a man than Captain Freeman? Freeman would do it.)

"There IS a way we can get out of this," he said with false conviction.

A minute later they looked on him with complete disbelief.

"Are you sure you know what you're doing?" Willow questioned.

'No' He thought. "I'm sure," he said. "I've done it before, remember?"

"I'm coming with you," said Buffy. She was the Slayer after all. Danger-girl.

"No, Buffy," he insisted.

But she pushed on: "You're not going out there alone."

He looked at her severely. She got the meaning. What, after all, could she DO out there?

"I'm going," Willow informed them bluntly.

Xander shook his head. "No one-" he started.

But Will shot him down: "How are you going to fly that ship? How are you going to get US out of HERE?"

"Do YOU know how to fly one of those things?" Buffy argued.

"Well, no. But I've never TRIED." Will fumbled. "And neither have YOU," she aimed at Xander. "Which one of us would you put money on to learn in just a few minutes? Because that planet isn't getting any further away."

*

Soon, they stood next to each other on the roof of the pod - Willow and Xander - in full spacesuit garb. The shuttle they were aiming to reach about 30 or 40 metres away. Wreckage floated all around them. A HUGE planet ahead.

'/Face your fear, Harris. Think of the mission. The mission/.' What he wouldn't have given right then for one of those crazy-ass rocket-packs.

"Physics," Harris said over the suit comm.

"Huh?"

"Physics," he said again, looking down at his feet and back at the shuttlecraft. "If we push off with our feet ... we'll go that way ... basically forever ... right?"

Will pondered. "...In theory."

"In theory?" He felt like calling it quits and going back inside. Better to burn quickly than drift for days in the dark.

"I've never actually tried it, so..."

They looked at their target for a moment as they drifted gently alongside it. It was about time THEY repaid Buffy for all those times that she had saved their hides.

Xander turned to his friend and held out a hand to her. Willow took it in hers - like two children about to set off for their first day at school.

"Willow-"

"I know."

They smiled. How insane that felt to them.

"On three?" she asked.

"How about ... on 'Go'."

"'Kay. On 'Go'."

They both bent their knees as much as the suits allowed and prepared to deactivate the magnetic grips on their boots...

And, after a breath, they both screamed: "GO!"

Releasing the boots, they kicked against the pod and were surprised at how suddenly they were propelled toward the shuttle. Ten metres passed. Fifteen ... twenty. It was working! They were going to make it! Hope.

Hope crept to the surface of Xander's thoughts for the first time since he thought up this crazy mission. But hope went crashing into oblivion when Xander reacted to a glimmer at the corner of his vision.

To their left, travelling at great speed, came a large, spinning hulk of wreckage. It came hurtling. Right AT them.

"Xander!"

He didn't stop to think. He let Willow go and pushed his feet against her as hard as he could manage - forcing them apart.

Willow felt the wind being kicked out of her as a sudden burst of speed propelled her into the side of the shuttle with a bang. She panicked slightly as she began to drift away from the hull. Quickly, she initiated the boots and, when she was sure she was secure, looked back for Xander... Just in time to see the twenty-foot slice of debris hit him head-on and glide away into the void - taking Xander with it.

*

A Klingon Fighter infected by Evil - its weapons useless - dropped down on the Narayan and rammed into her.

Helmsman Dean reacted fast enough to avoid a worse crash, but the collision took out the Narayan's phasers. The Fighter raced alongside them - shunting into them repeatedly.

Freeman fumed and ordered his pilot to drop back.

The zombies overshot them, turned, and flew back at the Narayan in a terrible game of chicken.

Dave's console lit up. "Their weapons systems are coming back online!" Acting on pure instinct, Freeman ordered: "Ahead quarter speed - prepare to bring us about and fire main thrusters full!"

"What?" Dean barked, forgetting his place.

"Trust me, young Bull."

"If you insist, sir."

"That I do."

The 2 craft went flying at each other...

A warning sounded - Dean saw on the console that the enemy had them locked in target and were powering their phasers.

Dave allowed as much time to pass as he dared until the other shuttle was almost upon them. "Now!"

The Narayan rolled around like a tornado and fired her thrusters - blasting the enemy shuttle's window apart.

*

Willow struggled with a tiny hatch on the roof of the vacant shuttle, cursing and fighting tears. The maintenance port snapped open and flew from her grip into space. She had to keep it together for the sake of everyone. She stared into the relay panel before her for a long moment... then broke down.

/Xander/...

He was gone. For real.

No!

No. Not if she could get this bucket moving and find him. She had to hope. But that faded quickly when she realised the panel before her was nothing more than a diagnostic relay. She sagged in defeat and let the tears come.

Until a voice in her ear gave her a start:

"Try overriding the security, little girl, and let's turn that frown around."

She wheeled about clumsily to see none-other than Xander himself posing beside her with hands on hips.

She couldn't even speak.

*

The huge slice of debris had come from nowhere and crashed right into him...

Xander felt his wind knocked out as he gripped the mass of metal that propelled him away. It rotated slightly, giving him footing for his mag-boots so that he managed to stand and assess his predicament. His heart went like a galloping gaggle of horses - his mind also racing as he struggled to think what he could possibly do to save himself from the rest of forever flying around the stars.

He surfed along at speed - seeing many other heaps of wreckage darting around him. In the distance on all sides, shuttles and starships battled for the future of the very universe.

His knees gave way as a small burned brick of shrapnel clipped his island, jarring him. Recovering, he spotted another sheet of metal heading his way - threatening to get dangerously close. His first instinct was to look for some escape route in case it got too close for comfort... then it dawned on him to check its path. Watching its movement, and turning back in the direction Willow would now be, he found it difficult to judge but figured it was at least going nearer the way he wanted to be... So, he went for the crazy option of switching platforms.

*

The Narayan's thrusters cut out and she narrowly avoided a flying hull fragment - turning hard into an entire field of debris. She cut left, cut right - ahead a massive chunk of wreckage approached them. Freeman blasted it in two with the phasers and they shot through the inferno between. He aimed again for another oncoming ship fragment, but held off at the last second. "Sharp right!"

The Narayan rolled suddenly to starboard and missed the hull plate by metres.

Dave apologised to Dean, explaining the sight he'd caught of a Starfleet officer in EVA suit drifting along atop the wrecked section of shuttle.

The pilot spun them around and drew in behind the floating plate. Sure enough, a lone figure stood magnetised to its surface - completely oblivious to their presence.

"Can we open a channel to their suit comm?" asked Freeman.

"I think our transmitters are fried, sir. I can patch in our receiver though."

"Alright; open a channel."

Crackling came before a voice rang out that Freeman recognised immediately:

"Battlestar Galactica....yeah...great show. Star Wars...sure...love it. 'I wanna be Han Solo'. Meh. ... I hate space."

Freeman smiled. "Whatya think about dropping shields and picking up a stray?"

Dean registered the 2 enemy craft moving in on their position. "Sounds like the insane ramblings of a madman. If I may say so."

"Probably right..." Dave pondered...

They heard for a while Xander's heavy breathing. After a short time, he muttered again to himself: "I'm not gonna make it."

Dave frowned and looked beyond Xander to see a drifting shuttlecraft in the distance. Scanning, he found a second space-walker on its roof. "What about a tractor-beam?" said Freeman. "Do we have enough juice for that?"

"Sure."

"Okay!" He set to work. "I'm gonna give a friend of mine a little nudge."

*

Soon, Xander found himself positioned right beside the shuttlecraft so that he could almost step across to it. With a wave of complete and total gratitude, he saw the Narayan off and crossed to Willow.

She was quite relieved to see him.

With Xander's rough guidance - from his experience with Captain Freeman previously - Willow managed to access the controls from the diagnostic relay and get them into the Shuttlecraft .

After figuring the controls quickly, Will set up an energy field over the blood-encircled pea-hole in the shuttle's wall, and rescued a grateful Buffy and Anya from the doomed lifeboat.

The Scoobs were all aboard their commandeered shuttle at last.

Surely things could only get better from here on...