"Welcome To Basic, Part I"
By Petty Officer 2nd Class Benedict "Max" Maxwell,
NCOIC Emergency Medical Response Team (Current Status: Prisoner #8813-E419M25)
USS Galaxy
Starfleet Basic Training Facility, Great Lakes, Michigan, Earth, June 14th, 2378
A few laughs, a heated debate, nervous murmurings. Those were the sounds that Max had to endure for the shuttle ride from New York. He was sure that most would be so nervous that they would have kept their mouths shut, but such wasn't the case here. The laughs were incited by one teenager who was obviously the class clown, one Bonnie O'Healy. She reminded him of a recording of an obnoxious comedienne from the early 21st century Earth..Ross?
No, Max thought to himself, that ain't it. Rose...Rosie. He clearly remembered the name now. She was also from New York, was known all throughout her life for being vulgar and obnoxious. Bonnie O'Healy definitely had the makings of Starfleet's enlisted version of that person.
Next were the people of the 'debate team'. A young man from Vietnam named Tien Hyunh, An older woman in her late twenties named Lissette Mercado, a pair of twins named Josef and Pietro Vasilli, and a young Bajoran woman named Karu Nayeli. Max didn't catch the names of most of the nervous folk, but he remembered one name out of the rest because she simply caught his attention: Cindy Yates. She was about the same age he was, red hair, freckles, and a thick body to boot.
He didn't actually get a chance to get to know her until later, for they had landed at their destination. The shuttlecraft touched down without even a bump or a nudge as the pilot expertly negotiated the anti-gravs and thrusters for a smooth landing. The chaperon sat up and faced the group of approximately forty or so recruits.
"We have arrived at your new home for the next six months," he began, a Vulcan male, probably in his late 60's or so (Max could never tell). "You will disembark here and report to the marked area just port of this shuttlecraft and wait for your Recruit Division Commander. You may exit now."
With that, the assembled mass of various persons exited the shuttlecraft and ambled their way to the area specified. On their way out, they were greeted by a human male, in his mid 30's, who wore a Starfleet uniform with the rank of Chief Petty Officer. The CPO wore a broad smile and greeted everyone as they disembarked. He made such pleasant statements and questions as:
"Hi, welcome to the Starfleet Basic Training Facility..."
"How was your trip?"
"Smooth ride for ya?"
"Anything you need feel free to ask for help..."
"That hat looks good on you..."
"Hey, anyone tell you that you bore a resemblance to James T. Kirk?"
Then Max passed the CPO and as the he opened his mouth for a greeting, he paused. A look of recognition briefly crossed the CPO's face before it quickly resolved into the former friendly face that greeted everyone else.
"Welcome," he said simply to Max.
"Thank you, I think," Max replied with an obvious degree of uncertainty. The look didn't escape Max but the reason didn't dawn on him at that moment.
When everyone was assembled in a ragtag fashion, the CPO quietly made his way around, nodding and smiling to those in his field of vision. There was a light murmur amongst the crowd as many of those present didn't quite know what to make of their current situation. Finally, the CPO took up a position that was roughly dead center facing the group, smile ever present.
"Hello everyone, I trust we're all here?"
A few people giggled in response, while a few others yelled out "hi" to the CPO.
Max was a bit confused. This was not how he pictured basic training to be...or maybe he just watched too many old Terran military movies. But he had the growing sensation that not everything was what it seemed, that maybe-
"SHUT YOUR FUCKING HOLES, AND LISTEN UP!!" The sudden roar which emanated from the once pleasant and smiling CPO immediately caused a silence so deep, you swore that there was a vacuum sucking the very air away from them.
"My name is Chief Petty Officer Malcolm Hood," the now menacing man stated in a loud but clear voice. "Your vacation is now over. You all belong to Starfleet, and that means from now on until you graduate Basic Training, you all belong to ME!" He began slowly making his way along the ragtag gathering of people of various species. "I do not care if you are Human, Klingon, Ferengi, Bolian, Andorian, Bajoran, or even Cardassian." He paused to look at a representative of each race he mentioned, then continued. "There will be no preferential treatment here, no favors regardless of who our mothers are." That last was directed specifically at Max, whom Hood made his way to and stood right in front of.
"What's your name, recruit?"
"Benedict Maxwell, sir." Max knew better than to leave the sir off. Which was the wrong thing to say.
"I WORK FOR A LIVING DOUCHEBAG, DON'T FUCKING CALL ME SIR!!" When he was satisfied that Max had recoiled far back enough to snap his own spine, he continued. "You may address me as Chief, or Chief Hood. Commissioned officers like Ensigns, and the like can enjoy being called sir."
He turned away from Max, and returned to the front of the assembly, then smartly turned about face. "There are four lines running along the ground, running from fore to aft. You will fit yourselves along those lines in an orderly fashion in ten seconds or less. DO IT NOW!" The sudden rustle and bustle coalesced into four fairly orderly columns. No one knew what to do next, and no one dared to try to find out....no one except Bonnie O'Healy. Max wasn't surprised in the least.
"So what do we do now, Chief Hood?" she asked. As if a site-to-site transporter effect occurred, the Chief magically appeared right in front of her and focused on her beady little eyes.
"What do we do now?" he mocked. "Is that what you just asked me you worthless piece of shit?" Bonnie should have left well enough alone, but apparently her personality wouldn't allow it. "Yeah, that's what I asked."
Boiling with near rage and possibly the need to slap the taste out of the offending recruit's mouth for several years, the CPO leaned in closer and his voice was barely a whisper.
"Fall out."
"Huh?", she replied, genuinely confused. That was enough for the CPO to lose it.
"Holy shit," Hood exclaimed, "I can't fucking believe my fucking luck! I've got a bonafide idiot in my division!" He stepped back and waited a moment to let the statement sink in. "You, young lady will have the honor of being the Head Queen. Do you know what that means?"
Bonnie shook her head silently, which raised the ire of the Chief even more (as if he could get any more red and pissed off).
"What, your tongue is in stasis now? Do you know what that means?"
"Yes, sir." Bonnie never saw it, but the Chief had already moved in close enough to brush the middle of her chest slightly and send her sailing to the ground.
"Oh, I am so sorry, Recruit. I guess I moved to fast for my own good. Now pick your sorry ass up!" Bonnie collected herself off of the ground, now realizing that things were for real around here.
"On second thought," began Hood, a devious smile playing on the corners of his mouth, "I have a better idea." Hood took Bonnie by the arm and led her to the front of the formation. He then turned her to face everyone. "I want to reintroduce this recruit to you all. This is your new Recruit Chief Petty Officer Sloth. She will be responsible for all of you, and she will report to me. You all WILL follow her instructions as if they came from myself. Am I understood?"
He was given a resounding "Yes, Chief Hood" and smiled.
"Welcome to P.Week, scum."
TBC..........................
"Welcome To Basic, Part II"
By Petty Officer 2nd Class Benedict "Max" Maxwell,
NCOIC Emergency Medical Response Team (Current Status: Prisoner #8813-E419M25)
USS Galaxy
Starfleet Basic Training Facility, Great Lakes, Michigan, Earth, June 14th, 2378
The afternoon gave way to evening, which gave way to late night as the recruits went through their inprocessing procedures. Inoculations, paperwork, haircuts, more paperwork, uniform distribution, even more paperwork. Some of the recruits were already swaying on their feet as fatigue began taking its toll on them. Even Max was having a hard time concentrating as the will to catch a nap began to get stronger.
Bonnie O'Healy, their new Recruit Chief Petty Officer, was proving to be an even bigger bitch than she possibly could ever be. She almost immediately began issuing nonsensical orders and being a major pain in the ass every chance she got. Then there was her first confrontation with Max.
"Hey, mama's boy," she jeered. Max paid her no mind as she didn't address him by name, nor was she actually in front of him when she was speaking. That quickly changed as she got right in Max's face to ensure that she had his attention. "I'm talking to you mama's boy," she repeated, this time in a more menacing tone. Max stopped arranging his personal items in the foot locker in front of his bunk and stood to face her. He wasn't exactly welcoming, either.
"Yes?"
"I am the Recruit Chief Petty Officer, and that means when I say jump, you say how high, got it?"
Max thought of all the answers he could give her at that particular moment, but just wanted her to go away before things got ugly.
"Yes, Chief Masturbator." This brought a few shocked looks and several snickers from those within earshot. Others slowly inched closer as the first confrontation amongst recruits was clearly in progress.
"You must really think you're something special, mama's boy."
"Not as special as you, I'm sure," Max replied with a small smile at the corner of his mouth. Bonnie was just getting started.
"You probably thought because your mother was someone supposedly important that you'd get my job, huh? Maybe even get a fast promotion to Admiral when you walked outta here? You're a pathetic loser who probably couldn't cut it in the real world, and most definitely will not cut it here." She finished her tirade and waited for Max's response.
"Will that be all, Chief?" was all he would say.
Bonnie seemed to be stuck for a moment, but quickly got her wits about her and laughed at Max...right in his face.
"Yeah, I can see we'll have a lotta fun with ya, mama's boy." She walked off to her newly formed clique, with whom she traded high fives and more jokes at the expense of Max. Max counted to about forty-three before he unclenched his fists. He didn't even take note of the fact that he had dug deep enough to cause blood blisters in the palms of his hands.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
2155 hours, June 15th...
"Tattoo, tattoo lights out in five minutes," was announced over the address system. Their 'ship' which was what housed all the recruit divisions was actually the old United States Naval Recruit Training Center rebuilt and restored with several upgrades to the technology in place, such as climate control, illumination, public address, and of course the head. Sleeping accommodations, however, were as they existed back in the twentieth and twenty-first centuries. Iron bunks, doubled up, with mattresses, and sheets with one pillow, no blanket.
They had already received instruction on how to make their beds the Starfleet way, everyday. Even their formations had slowly coalesced into something resembling a true heightline. More people joined them by the time processing was over, so they now had six ranks as tradition demanded. A Recruit Leader Petty Officer was appointed by the RDC, as well as a Recruit Yeoman, Recruit Master-At-Arms, Recruit Dental Yeoman, and so forth. Max didn't get the Recruit Medical Yeoman position, but instead was one of the regular rabble of recruits who were still adjusting to life in Basic Training.
At the request of the Queen Bitch, Max was first to be indoctrinated into the job of Standing Watch. Right on the dot, at 2200 hours the lights went out, and the entire cavernous hall in which the recruits slept in was almost pitch black save for the emergency lighting with gave the place a dull, almost eerie glow. Most of the recruits have already fallen into a deep state of unconsciousness due to the level of fatigue they developed during the course of the day.
Max decided to take the time to read the Greyjacket's Manual on his PADD and also reflect on the events of the past twenty four hours or so. No one seemed to be able to stand at attention correctly, the formations seemed to be a little off, and the PT sessions were rather brutal as this RDC Hood seemed to enjoy torture through exercise and conditioning.
After about a half hour, Max performed his first walk through ensuring that every one's items were secure and shipshape...and that everyone was asleep. He was greeted with a variety of somnolent noises such as snoring, deep sleep chatter, even a chirping sound (one of the younger male recruits seemed to chirp in his sleep). Max smiled at the last one and continued to walk through his Division's part of the 'ship'. He had landed in Division 281, which was notorious for having someone go out on psych for losing it...no doubt thanks to the efforts of one CPO Hood.
After correcting a couple of things that were out of order, Max returned to the spot where he was to stand for most of the night. Delving more into the Manual on his PADD he sucked up as much information as he could tolerate in regards to history of Starfleet, Rank & Ratings, damage control, manual fire suppression, uniform standards, and the UCMJ. He decided to skip the first aid section as it would simply take from the time he wanted to study other things.
Not noticing the large shadow that seemed to materialize in front of him, Max took a step forward to stretch his legs and ran into a wall. Looking up, he saw the meanest, ugliest Klingon he had ever met. And it seemed hungry.
TBC...................................................
"Welcome To Basic, Part III"
By Petty Officer 2nd Class Benedict "Max" Maxwell,
NCOIC Emergency Medical Response Team (Current Status: Prisoner #8813-E419M25)
USS Galaxy
Starfleet Basic Training Facility, Great Lakes, Michigan, Earth, June 15th, 2378, 0520 hours
Not noticing the large shadow that seemed to materialize in front of him, Max took a step forward to stretch his legs and ran into a wall. Looking up, he saw the meanest, ugliest Klingon he had ever met. And it seemed hungry.
Max pretty much froze in place, unsure of what to do. His only experience with Klingons were with the kind that are unfriendly, and usually itching for a fight. He could take care of himself, but wasn't sure how he'd do against a full grown warrior...much like the one in front of him. Thankfully, he was about to find out that it didn't involve combat. Not at this point, anyway.
"Recruit," the Klingon growled, "what time is it?"
Now totally lost, Max had to actually think about the question before he realized that he could simply glance at the chronometer on his wrist. But it's not what the Klingon had in mind.
"Did I say you could look at your timepiece, Ph'Tak? Perhaps I should feed your worthless hide to my Targ?" At that a low wet growl emanated from somewhere down and to the left of Max. He afforded a quick glance at something he'd rather not have seen. A real live and quite large Targ, which looked rather hungry and probably had Max sized up for a fairly decent snack.
The Klingon, noting the look of absolute terror in Max's eyes and face threw back his head and laughed. At this point, the RDC walked in and patted the Klingon on the shoulder.
"Glad you've met my friend here, Recruit," Hood said as he looked Max over with a discerning eye. Then he turned towards the sleeping huddled masses and yelled at the top of his lungs, "Wake up you lazy sacks of garbage!" With that, all the lights in the cavernous 'ship' came on and various RDCs walked in and began yelling at the members of their respective divisions. When everyone was awake and at attention, Hood walked away from Max and addressed everyone.
"I would like to introduce you all to a good friend of mine. This gentleman here-" he gestured to the towering glaring Klingon "-is 'etlh SuvwI' Kohr, Son of Maalox. The Standard translation of his rank is Fencer. The Starfleet equivalent is Chief Petty Officer. Kohr will be in charge of your physical training for the next three weeks. If you can survive him, then you can survive whatever else is out there. He has seen more combat then most of you have had wet dreams. Speaking of which, I hope I didn't interrupt any, but we do have a training day to start off. In your smurf suits, now! You have two minutes!"
TBC....................................
"Welcome To Basic, Part IV"
By Petty Officer 2nd Class Benedict "Max" Maxwell,
NCOIC Emergency Medical Response Team (Current Status: Prisoner #8813-E419M25)
USS Galaxy
Starfleet Basic Training Facility, Great Lakes, Michigan, Earth, August 21st, 2378, 1415 hours
The past couple of months have gone fairly good for Max. He was losing some of the fat he had put on while in space, and learned a great deal about the inner workings of Starfleet at the Enlisted level. He did as he was told, performed his tasks adequately, and did his best not to piss of the RDC and his assistants...well with the exception of 'etlh SuvwI' Kohr. Max always seemed to piss him off. Then again, so did everyone else.
"A mewling kitten could put forth a better effort than you Ph'Taks," he would shout as they went through their daily routines. Then came hand to hand combat. Max had the distinct pleasure of dispatching several people whom he could care less for, especially Bonnie O'Healy and her entourage. Apparently they were more talk than action. Kohr took great interest in Max's martial arts ability.
"An interesting combination of techniques you utilize, Recruit," Kohr greeted one day. Max was in the middle of a warm up for that day's close combat session. Max stood ramrod straight and replied, "Thank you, Fencer." Kohr nodded ever so slightly, measuring Max up as he began to circle.
"Tell me, what styles have you learned? What are their origins?"
"Fencer, the recruit has learned Tai Chi, Wushu, Southern Style Boxing, from China, and Muay Thai Kickboxing from Thailand, all Terran in origin."
"I see. And what is the purpose of this variety of styles and techniques?"
Max paused for a second. He realized too late that he was being sized up. He had to answer, and thus give away any advantage he had...unless.......
"Balance, Fencer."
The tall Klingon stopped in his tracks, then came back around to stand mere millimeters from Max's face.
"Is that all you have learned? To 'balance' yourself?" Kohr laughed in Max's face, which served to completely infuriate Max into making a really really really stupid mistake.
"Perhaps the Fencer would like to find out for himself," he said through gritted teeth, his skin darkening in anger at being mocked and laughed at in front of his peers. Kohr stopped laughing, and his own face changed to a menacing visage in an instant.
"You challenge me? Are you serious? Or simply hypoglycemic? I am aware that you Terrans are very sensitive to sudden changes in metabolism and...internal 'balance'." Kohr smiled very unpleasantly with the 'balance', clearly giving him an out with his overall message, but still leaving a little barb to encourage Max to continue down his eventual path of pain. Max bit like a Flounder on a Canadian Night crawler.
"Bring it, Fencer."
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Ten minutes later..........
Thud. THUD.
Max was getting tossed around like a rag doll, despite his best efforts. What he didn't tell Kohr was that he learned both linear and circular styles, and knew when to switch up between them to confuse and disrupt the enemy. He did catch the Klingon off guard at first and a few more times as he began with his Kickboxing style to maximize his impacts. The punch and elbow combination followed by a reverse fist he started off with did indeed make Kohr fall back a few steps. Kohr quickly figured out Max's pattern and began to whip his ass.
Max then alternated between the wide sweeping motions of Wushu and the direct strikes of Southern Style boxing. Again, Kohr learned what Max's limits were and varied up his own fighting style to match. Finally Max tried utilizing the combat applications of Tai Chi and Kohr just began wiping the floor with him.
He now had max supine on the training mat, standing with Max's arm twisted into a near unnatural position, when Max slapped the mat with his free hand like a rabbit's tail on speed. Kohr gave a good twist for good measure, careful to not actually break the arm, and flung it back at Max. To Max's credit, he didn't yell once, which impressed Kohr.
"You have a good fighting spirit, Recruit, the makings of a real warrior." He paused and looked Max straight in the eye when Max finally stood to face him. "You made one error and one error only. You didn't fight as if your life depended on it. You fought as if it were a competition, a game to be won. I would have gladly ripped your arm out of the socket and beaten you to death with it if this were a field of battle."
Kohr turned to face the assembled group of recruits and addressed them.
"It does not matter how fancy or complicated your technique appears to be. If you do not fight to take your opponent out as it were your final fight, you will lose. And you will fail to bring glory to your shipmates." Kohr glanced back at Max. "Are you injured or are you hurt?" Max knew the meaning of the question clearly.
"I am neither, Fencer."
"Good. Continue your training drills. All of you." With that, Kohr stepped away where he could watch the entire Division as they practiced their close combat.
Max paired up with some Bajoran, who whispered to Max, "Gutsiest thing I've ever seen, challenging a Klingon like that." Max simply nodded but smiled internally.
TBC
"Three's a Crowd" - part one
Sotha, Az Shiber second in command (Saul Bental)
Eela, Assassin (Ella Grey)
***
Ocean of Valen, Water Planet
Landing Base Shiaro
90 years after launch
***
Things almost seemed to be the same for Eela and Sotha. They worked together, enjoying the clean air the the warm subtropical climate, occasionally exchanging a mock slight or a witty joke. But it wasn't the same, never would be. Some times, when Sotha passed close to her, a hand reached out and patted her back or her hair - and she didn't recoil. Sotha knew they were going about it like shy teens, but in essence that's what they were in matters like affection between a man and a woman.
It was nice feeling young again.
Sotha went to speak with the work force manager, and returned victorious.
"I managed to talk him into sending us on a speedboat to collect some samples." He said, his fingers brushing against her shoulder. How marvelously natural it felt! All these decades wasted ...
The assassin grinned back at him and then took his hand in her own. It was strange how normal things felt between them; Eela wondered if she should explain Loras to him someday and how she never though she'd be able to be this close to anyone after that. "How soon?"
"When Saenock returns. About twenty minutes from now - enough time for you to fetch some 'rations' while I get the scientific equipment." And the bottle of ale a quick entrapeneur synthesized from the local algae. It actually tasted quite good.
She was going to fire back a witty comment when something caught her eye. Eela bit back a sigh. "We're being followed, Sotha."
"We are." It was not a question. Sotha held Eela's professionalism in high esteem. He could tease her 'till tomorrow about being an updeck girl, but after four decades of working together, he trusted her abilities without hesitation.
"I failed us, then." He said. Before departing to the planet he tried to make sure none of his acquaintances - from intelligence and the lower decks - will be assigned to the same place as himself. He even used his real identity and name. But obviously he wasn't careful enough.
No matter. The trip was still worth it, if only to inhale fresh air and to kiss the woman he should've kissed half a century ago. "I say we go on with business as usual, but bring your 'cache' to the boat as well." Sotha suggested. Even though Sotha told Eela that he didn't intend her to kill anyone planet side, both of them brought hidden weapons with them. It was a very logical precaution. "What do you think?"
"We could just kill him now and save ourselves the trouble," Eela muttered and then rolled her eyes at Sotha's expression. "Yeah, I know... he's going to be sorry if he interferes though. I brought some really sharp knives this trip."
"Good. They'll help us slice the fish."
* * *
"Argh."
Sotha's fingers got a definete shade of green from turning around the engine's valves. His ancestors weren't exactly a seafaring species, and the aquatic equipment aboard the TalValen was crude at best. The ship's engineers harnessed all their ingenuity to overcome this problem, but in the mean time Sotha's fingers suffered from the backward technology.
When the engine was tuned to a reasonable degree (The boat maintained a straight line for longer then twenty seconds without a single hiccup!) he left it and went to sit by Eela, cautiously dipping his sore fingers in her flowing hair.
"Do you think we're going to stay here?" He asked. He didn't know the exact details, but any shaft urchin could've guessed that this unplanned stopped by the water planet to replenish resources may prevent the TalValen from continuing on its journey.
She leaned back carefully into his touch. "I don't know. I can see a lot of people who won't like the idea. This world will take a lot of work. Updeck won't do it and the rest wont do it unless the pay is good, which it won't be. I should have a job in either case."
"Thought you say Updeck won't do it." Sotha taunted.
She nipped at his jawline. "Jerk."
He closed his eyes. "Maybe some work is what we need after rotting a century in that flying trash bin."
"You want to stay," Eela replied. "Somehow that surprises me."
"How come?"
"I don't know. Maybe I wonder if the Az Shibar function off of Talvalen. And your friend is back."
Sotha frisked a small waterproof bag by their legs, and picked a small monocular. Long range observation equipment was also a rarity on the Talvalen, since you could only see 'till the next wall, and that wall wasn't so far away.
"He's really starting to irritate me," She said. "Are you sure I can't kill him?"
"I need to know who they are. Maybe the director somehow found out and sent me a body guard... not that I need one."
There were other options, which Sotha did not intend to discuss with Eela. There was some rivalry amongst the various intelligence agency and policing forces on board. A tense truce was kept for decades, but it wasn't unthinkable that the others would take advantage of the open sea to attempt what they wouldn't dare trying within the confinement of the starship. Also, government agents weren't popular amongst the lower classes. Sotha was involved with Vennetir's successors for three decades now, and perhaps finally one of them connected the dots.
And there was also the third option, the only one that truly was worth worrying about.
"Let them come to us.", He said.
* * *
"Let them come to us, eh?"
Sotha sneered at Eela, not daring to take his eyes off the water. The two remaining speedboats flanked them, one on each side. The sudden stop trick won't work twice, he reckoned.
But there were more tricks lines up for their assailants.
He shut his eyes instinctively as a tall wave hit the boat, splashing. He spat the water, catching his breath. The ocean seemed to lose its calm.
"See the algae field over there?" Sotha shouted above the triple engine roar and the hum of the waves, "I'm split-S'ing toward there, they'll be on your right in five seconds!"
Without waiting to hear her acknowledge, he shoved the stirring stick, beginning the sharp manuever leading toward the broad dark shade just beneath the sea surface to their west.
This should be interesting, Eela thought. She hadn't had much practice using rounds - especially against moving targets - for fear of punching holes into the ship. She was pleased that she actually hit something although her precision left much to be desired. "Pass back around, Sotha!"
Sotha grunted, tilting the stick to the opposite direction. The boat he was in was slower and more sluggish than the speedboats, but again he used it to his advantage. The speedboat to their left came dangerously close as they entered the second half of the split-S. In a streak of sadistic creativity, Sotha hit the button which operated the docking rod. The four meters long rod extended, but instead of attaching the boat to a docking clamp, it smashed into the speedboat's helmsman's head, severing it.
Sotha tried to get a glimpse of the helmsman's face as the head crossed the air in a graceful arch, spraying drops of green blood. He couldn't identify the face because they were masked - and that was the one thing he did not want to see.
"We need the last person alive!", He shouted at Eela.
There wasn't much point in arguing that "alive" wasn't a part of her job description so Eela stuck her tongue out at him and then aimed her ray gun. The hit was on target and, to her disappointment, non lethal. Sotha slowed the boat and Eela hopped on board, making sure that it was all clear.
"Be quick about it," The assassin said as he boarded and she moved to keep watch on their boat. "There are other things I would rather be doing right now."
Sotha ignored her - how rude, given that she just saved his worthless butt - and went straight to the helmsman. It was a skinny figure, still spasming due to the ray gun injury. Sotha violently tore away the metal mask that hid her mouth and nose, revealing a feminine face which look much older than he recalled.
"T'Nyo," He said.
(tbc)
"MIA...No more..." Part Three
Marine Captain Man'darr Maivia
Heavy Weapons Platoon CO
USS Galaxy
*Three weeks ago*
Kneeling, Man'darr mentally chuckled to himself as he looked at his reflection in the clear water of the small lake. He had sorta grown used to the thick beard that now grew on his face, matted with dried dirt and mud that also caked on his skin and clothes. His hair on the top of his head had grown and thickened, though it was still short as it had been bald before the mission. Bruises and healing cuts marked his body in several places. The T'Kith'Kin had been sending out more Warriors recently to hunt for him. Yet his hit and run tactics were still proving successful, though it was beginning to have a toll on his massive body. Recently he had begun to feel weaker than normal. Most likely due to lack of sleep and food, Man'darr thought as he sipped the water from the lake. The cool, refreshing liquid brought instant relief to his parched throat. The night sky was clear tonight as he glanced up, looking! at the countless stars. Suddenly something caught his eye--movement. But from what? He squinted his eyes to attempt to focus his vision. He then caught site of what appeared to be humanoid-sized objects falling towards the surface. Are they objects? Man'darr then spotted several faint glowing blue colored lights as they entered the nearby jungle.
Standing, Man'darr strode quickly into the thick jungle in the direction he had seen the objects land nearby. Man'darr heard the crunch of approaching footsteps and the rustling of branches appraoching in his direction. Were they headed for the T'Kith'Kin Colony Hive? Or were they T'Kith'Kin Warriors? Man'darr leapt the grabbed a large overhead branch, instantly swinging himself up onto the branch and then pulled himself onto the next branch and laid down, pressing his body against the large branch. He then spotted eight humanoid figures dressed in black fatigues. He then recognized the people as four humans, a andorian, two vulcans, and a bolian. As soon as Man'darr moved, the team raised energy weapons in his direction.
He saw one individual instantly hold up and wave it down, indicating to the others to lower their weapons. "Sensors show you aren't T'Kith'Kin. Identify yourself."
Man'darr dropped down from the branch, landing with a soft thud and leaving an impression in the soft ground. "I am Marine Captain Man'darr Maivia of the twenty-fourth Marine Force Recon Battalion, Alpha Company, First Platoon."
"Major Ben Armstrong of the twenty-fourth Marine Force Recon Battalion. Bravo Team, 1st Platoon. Alpha, First platoon? Maivia? That unit was believed to have been lost in a clandestine mission to this world. Where are the others?"
Man'darr thrusted his hand into his pocket and withdrew the dogtags. "I am all thats left."
"Damn..." the major whispered. "And you've been here all this time?"
"Yes, sir. I have been doing my best to combat the enemy by harrassing the enemy with hit and run tactics. So far, I believe I have killed twenty-three T'Kith'Kin Warriors."
"Outstanding, captain. We're here to finish your mission, and thats to blow that T'Kith'Kin Hive. We have a Defiant Class vessel cloaked and in high orbit to transport us the moment the hive blows.
"I will lead you to the hive with the best route that I know of."
"Thank you, captain."
Man'darr took point as he led the group carefully through the thick jungle and soon into a well hidden, yet narroow space which made walking more silent. After thirty minutes of walking, they finally came to the paremeter of the T'kith'Kin Hive. "You came at a good time. Most of the T'Kith'Kin Warriors and workers are resting. This area is also the closest to the hive, its only 500 yards from here," Man'darr reported.
"Good," the major two fingers. "Give me two."
Man'darr nodded. "I will volunteer."
A vulcan Marine also stepped forward to volunteer.
"You sure, Maivia? You've been through alot already. You can stay back here and aid in covering the two marines."
"You want two to rush the hive and place dilithium charges, correct?"
The Major nodded.
"Then I doubt any of your Marines can run as fast as a Capellan, sir."
"Very well. Bring the shield destabalizer. And someone give Maivia a weapon and the second set of charges," the Major whispered.
"The Andorian Marine stepped forward with a device, placing it against the shield of the paremeter. The shield buzzed upon contact as the Andorian switched the device on. After a minute, a hole formed in the paremeter's shields. Another marine handed Man'darr a Type Two hand-held phaser and a pack containing dilithium charges.
"Alright, go."
Man'darr squeezed through the opening in the shields. This was what he had been wiaitng for...a chance to get even for the loss of his platoon. Man'darr's legs pushed the large Capellan across the 500 yards with unbelieveable speed for such a large person. Right on his heels was the Vulcan Marine. As they neared the large hive structure, an energy blast pierced the calm, humid night air, impacting just behind the sprinting duo. A single shot from the covering Marines' area sent the T'Kith'Kin guard to the ground, dead. An alarm soon rang out as the two reached the outer wall of the hive structure and drew the explosives from the sacks they carried and attached them to the hive as fast as possible. The air soon rang out in phaser and plasma discharges as the Marines provided cover fire for Man'darr and the vulcan. Man'darr returned fire a few times in between setting up the charges. Upon arming the fina! l charg es, Man'darr and the vulcan stood and sprinted as hard as their legs could carry them with energy discharges from t'Kith'Kin weapons impacted all around them and phaser discharges slicing through the air only inches away at times towards the T'Kith'Kin positions.
The vulcan was hit in the right shoulder blade and fell to the ground, yet still alive and only moderately wounded from the hit. Man'darr stopped upon hearing the vulcan fall and turned, tossing the vulcan onto his shoulder and continued his sprint towards the outer shield area. Man'darr tossed the Vulcan through the shield opening and then himself.
"Move it!" Major Armstrong ordered as the team stood, and began a fast paced covering fire retreat as Man'darr picked up the vulcan and continued to carry him through the jungle.
"Hit the deck!" the major cried as he activated the detonation control. Instantly the Marines dove for the ground just as a shockwave of concussion and heat passed over them from the exploding T'Kith'Kin Hive, setting some of the nearby jungle on fire. "Move it!" the major called jumping to his feet.
The Marines jumped to their feet as well and began their sprint away from the area. =/\=Armstrong to Hades, we're go for transport. One wounded. Count is nine!=/\=
The marines and Man'darr soon dematerialized in a swirl of blue energy as the USS Hades left the system under warp.
Man'darr handed the wounded vulcan marine to the entering medical team in the transporter room. Major Armstrong turned to Man'darr. "Thanks for your help, captain. You should report to sickbay as well to get a check up" A smile then formed on the major's face, "Oh, and then get a bath and a shave. You stink."
Man'darr watched the major and his team walk away and lifted his arm, taking in a large whiff. Man'darr's eyes went wide at the pungent odor that assaulted his nostrils. "Damn! I do stink."
"A Parting of the ways"
Lt. JG Le'on Khatowren, Sniper Kitty Extraordinare (USS Galaxy)
Cadet Aline Stephenson-Leger, Security Cadet (Starbase Atlantis)
**********
Oberth Class Transport - USS Commonwealth
"Are you sure that you don't want to stay a bit and take a look around Le'on... er... sir?" Aline asked as she and the mini-Caitain watched the massive form of Starbase Atlantis come into view. The transport had come straight from the inner core of the Federation in order to bring supplies and crew that were desperately needed at the new base. Aline still wasn't used to addressing the diminutive cat across from her as her superior officer, but that was the curse of being a newly inducted Starfleet Cadet.
Le'on chuckled. "Nyet..." he said, tail swishing off of the table in amusement. "I am just here to deliver you kittens to new home. Then it is off to Deep Space Five for me to wait for new posting." He had happened to be in Earth Sector for a bit, just coming off of a covert mission to retrieve his former XO from Breen Space. Starfleet Command took advantage of his reassignment to the USS Galaxy in order to tap him to take charge of a cadre of cadets heading out to Atlantis.
That's where he met up with young Aline, fellow shipmate of his back on the USS Miranda. In fact, it was her father that he was sent in to retrieve. Now, Lt. Commander Jeremiah Leger and his wife, Ensign Heather Leger were on their way on their own ship; the USS Bainbridge. From what Aline was telling him all during the trip, Heather was going to be stationed at Atlantis as well, but elected to stay with Jeremiah for a short while. Aline was going to be the first one here and had to get her quarters squared away in time for her stepmother's arrival. She'd already played babysitter by taking her younger siblings back to Earth to hand over to her parents while she went on to the Academy for paperwork, orientation, and assignment.
Aline looked depressed at the thought of Le'on not sticking around. "That sucks..." she muttered under her breath. She sorely hoped that there would be some familiar faces around.
The ship josteld slightly as it docked with the station. Le'on stood up. "Alright you, down to the docking port with the rest of the cadets." he said. Aline tried not to roll her eyes where he could see as she too stood up and slung her duffell bag over her shoulder.
They got down to the docking port to find nineteen other cadets all standing around, waiting to disembark. Aline slipped into line behind the last cadet as Le'on stalked to the head of the line "ATEN-SHUN!" he yelled out. At once, all twenty cadets snapped to attention. They learned back at the start of the voyage not to underestimate Le'on just because of his size. One 4th year cadet was actually dumb enough to challenge Le'on's authority and wound up spending the night in sickbay when he tried to 'kick-the-cat' out of the way. From what Aline heard, the cadet had only gotten one good kick out before Le'on sliced his legs to ribbons. After that and the subsequent chew out session, no one dared to cross Le'on, especially after Aline supplied the recent story of how the Caitain had tossed the Operations Manager of the Miranda out of an airlock.
Needless to say the two combined were quite effective.
The airlock slide open and Le'on was greeted by one of the officers of the station, who handed a PADD to Le'on that was practically the same size has him. As he read over the PADD and placed his paw down for signature, he heard a couple of cadets chuckling. He shot them a nasty look and hissed and that shut them up instantly. He handed the PADD back to the officer and turned to address his now former charges.
"This is where I leave you kittens at. Now you have to prove you have fangs and claws to these people." he said in his training voice.
"Cadets, Forward-MARCH!" the Commander called out. The cadets at once marched off of the ship and onto their new assignment.
"Good luck on the Galaxy, sir" Aline whispered as she went by.
"Das Vydana, Ally." Le'on said with a grin as he turned to go back to the lounge to enjoy the view.
5226