Intrusive Aggression

Posted on 16 Oct 2018 @ 10:42pm by Lieutenant Colonel Cassandra Blackburn & Sergeant Major William Bourne

2,098 words; about a 10 minute read

Mission: Empty Creche
Location: Starship Redemption
Timeline: ED1 1600

ON:
Blackburn entered the Marine flight deck through a side door, glancing covertly around as she did so. She was wearing civilian jogging clothes with a hood pulled up over her head, as she didn’t want to be seen by anyone who would make a scene due to her presence. She could live without the pomp and ceremony that met a half colonel wherever they went. She noticed a low hum of activity in the bay, parked fighter craft, maintenance crews, marines wondering about. She walked quickly to one of the storage crates stacked neatly in a corner of the bay, and began scanning the labels which denoted their contents. As she was engrossed in her task, she felt a presence behind her.

“Ma’am.” Said Sergeant Major Bourne, stood disapprovingly to her rear.

She had be caught. Rolling her eyes, she pulled the hood down and revealed her head. “William.” She said in feigned acknowledgement. A nearby marine saw her, inhaled deeply, and was about to shout out the words to bring the deck to attention when she waved her finger at him and barked “Don’t”. The young man paused, hesitated, and glanced at Bourne, before exhaling slowly and walking away slowly in embarrassment.

“I’m fixing up a weapon.” She said to Bourne, feeling that she needed to explain herself, even though he hadn’t asked her what she was doing. “I needed a tool set to fit the accessory rails onto the frame.” The weapon she was referring to was the one she had taken from the Sixth fleet on the Hadronus mission – she had decided to keep it as a trophy and upgrade it for herself. Bourne didn’t need to know that grim detail, however, so she kept it to herself.

He didn’t reply. The deck had returned to quiet and efficient activity, the marines more than used to her ways by now. She started lifting up the containers and placing them to the side so she could get to one at the bottom of the pile. Bourne watched for a few moments as she struggled with the weight, but didn’t offer to help.

“The inspection this morning - you were not present, Ma’am”. He said gruffly as she opened the bottom crate and rummaged around it in. She pulled out a small toolbox and studied it briefly, and happy it was what she was looking for, sat back onto one of the crates to catch her breath, holding her prize.

“I’m sure you managed without me” She said to him.

“Not good form, Ma’am, leaving the troops waiting.”

“I don’t care.”

He frowned at that response for a few moments, hands clasped behind his back. He then shifted his weight and held out a PADD towards her. She was a little surprised; Bourne had given up giving her paperwork weeks ago; why was he trying now?

“Give it to one of the officers.” She said. “I have things to do.”

“You want to read this one.” He said, placing it in her hands. “Good day, Ma’am.” He saluted stiffly and marched away towards a gaggle of marines clustered at the other side of the deck.

She studied the PADD. It was an after action report from a ground battle between the Starfleet Marines and the Sixth Fleet from a week before, on a planet of which name she didn’t recognise. She looked up at Bourne walking away – why would she care about this? Her interest peaked, although she wouldn’t want to admit that, so she sat on the crate and skimmed the text. Close quarters fighting, complex and technical tactics on both sides, a nasty and close fight. A real brawl. She flicked the text up with her finger – action reports, enemy dispositions, material losses. She eventually got to the casualty lists, and kept flicking quickly through the hundreds of names. One name caught her eye. She backtracked up the list. The text stated bluntly: “Heyden, Michelle, Maj, XO 2 BN, 3 SF Marines, KIA”.

She dropped the PADD suddenly on the floor as if it had electrocuted her, sending it clattering on the deck. A few marines looked over as she leaned back in shock. After a few moments she picked the PADD back up and re-read it, before placing it back down on one of the crates. Her heart was racing; her vision had closed down into that familiar tunnel of adrenaline. Her classmate, her confidant, her supporter, her friend, one of her only friends, was dead on some alien world. Michelle Heyden had been posted to the Marine Headquarters on Luna as a staff officer, why was she even in a battle?

One of the marines had noticed her distress and had started to walk towards her. She glanced quickly at him, before walking rapidly off the deck, through the main doors and into the rest of the ship. Various marines stood to attention as she went past, some saluted - she didn’t notice any of them. A swell of grief and anger was building inside her. She stormed down the corridors, her mind racing away. Why had she been there? Why was she dead? What had happened? What a pointless waste of life. It enraged her.

She approached one of the large doors of a holodeck, the screen in the bulkhead clearly showing it was in use. She overrode the door and entered, where she found a couple sitting on a bench observing a sunset at a nondescript beach. They were taken aback when she entered.

“Get out.” She said to them.

“But you have to book…” the male protested.

“GET OUT” She barked at them. Startled, they quickly gathered their things and retreated through the exit.

“Computer, cancel program” She said, taking her jacket off and stripping to her vest and jogging trousers as the holodeck reset itself. “PALLAS, get in here.”

The female representation of the ship’s sentient AI appeared. “Yes, Colonel?” She enquired.

“Load the basic unarmed combat program” Blackburn ordered.

“The Ship’s normal computer can handle that task, Colonel” PALLAS politely advised.

“I don’t want to ship’s computer, I want you. Load the damn program.” PALLAS thought about arguing, but instead disappeared. The room transformed into a basic gym layout. “Give me a PR24 control device.” Blackburn demanded. A short, black side handled baton appeared in mid-air. Blackburn took hold of the side handle of the weapon and felt the familiar weight, before racking out the long part of the baton to twice its length.

“State opponent” PALLAS enquired.

“Aggressive human male.” Blackburn adopted a fighting stance.

“State build”

“Large.”

“State descriptives”

“I don’t give a damn!” Blackburn growled. A large, human man appeared out of nowhere, expressionless. He locked his holographic eyes onto Blackburn and approached her. Screaming with rage, she held onto the short handle with her right hand and the longer part of the baton with the other, and charged her opponent. He swung clumsily at her, she easily dodged the punch, and drove the baton straight into his stomach with her full weight behind it. He went down as she went over the top of him, rolling back onto her feet and turning rapidly towards him as he struggled to get up, winded. She released the hand on the long part and twisted her body, letting the handle of the baton twist in her grip as she focused the energy of her body’s movement into the end of the baton. It connected with the head of the man, he fell to the side and vanished in a blur of light, indicating a probable kill.

“Come on PALLAS, give me something more!” she hissed through gritted teeth. Another large man appeared, this time he was faster. She had not been the best at physical fitness at the academy, and had been average at general combat skills, but in baton fighting she had been graded exceptional. She had even competed in the discipline for the academy team for a while. She preferred them over edged weapons and had carried batons into combat on previous missions for that reason.

The man swung wildly, she caught his forearm with a block by placing the long part of the baton parallel along her own forearm, before pushing him away with her free hand to buy herself space. She slid down onto one knee and using a large sweeping motion swung the baton across the front of her, striking his legs with sickening force and taking the legs in the same direction she was aiming in. He fell onto his back, and she jumped on top of him, driving the short part of the weapon into his head. He disappeared. She was furious.

“Arm the next one.” She demanded. “And turn off the safety protocols.”

“Colonel…” Began PALLAS.

“JUST DO IT!” Blackburn screamed. Another human man appeared, this one wielding a small combat knife. He swung it out at her, so she pulled her head back causing him to miss. As he attempted to recover she pulled his weapon hand towards herself, overstretching him and taking him off balance. He managed to swing back onto his feet, using brute strength to pull her around so her back was to him. She had the long part of the baton still along her right forearm, so drove it backwards, forcing the tip of the baton, now at her elbow, into his chest. As she did so, she felt the knife cut into her right upper arm. He staggered, released her, so she turned quickly and hit him in the side of the body, twisting him to the side. She hit him again and again, blind rage driving her, the past weeks and months of frustrating boiling over in one act of furious violence. The weight of the baton suddenly felt off, as she glanced at it she saw that it had bent at the join. The man recovered in the moment that she was distracted by it, and lunged out again. She dodged the attack and jabbed him in the throat with the end of the bent baton, kicking his ankle out at the same time. He fell to his knees, and she twisted his weapon hand into an arm entanglement lock, so that she was stood behind him and locked his arm in with hers. Using her free hand, she took the knife from his immobilised grasp and pushed it quickly and efficiently into his neck from behind. He disappeared.

Alone, she stood perfectly still, broken baton in hand, sweating and breathing hard, in a heightened state of awareness.

After a while PALLAS spoke. “Colonel, you’re hurt. You should seek medical attention” The blood had trickled from the wound in her arm down her hand and onto the floor, where it was forming a small pool. She collected herself. Dropping the weapon, she wrapped her jacket tightly around the wound.

“End the program, PALLAS”. Blackburn said. The room disappeared as she left through the door.

A few minutes later she marched onto the marine deck, making directly towards Bourne. The marine he was talking to went pale at the sight the blood tricking through her ad hoc dressing and forming a trail behind her. He backed away as she approached Bourne, who took in the scene without changing his expression.

“Fine, you want me to do this, so be it” She said to him bluntly. “These people better be ready for it, because when we run into the enemy, and we will, I’m going to kill every last one of them. If you people wish to help, that’s up to you. If you don’t, I’m going to do it anyway.”

She turned and saw a group of marines hovering a short distance away. “Medic!” She bellowed. “Fix the arm.” She said to the young woman who came jogging over. She turned back to Bourne.

“Every last one of them.” She reiterated.

“Yes, Ma’am.” He said, expressionless but secretly pleased that his plan had come to fruition.

“Physical training tomorrow. Tell the medics to have plenty of water and stretchers on standby.” With those orders, the first real orders she had given in a long time, she turned away to leave with the flustered medic still fussing about her.

“Yes, Ma’am.” Repeated Bourne as he watch Blackburn walk away slowly from him towards the doors.

OFF

Lieutenant Colonel Cassandra Blackburn
Marine Detachment Commander
USS Redemption

 

RSS Feed