Skip to main content ↑ ↓
Topic: [2374] USS Hamburg: Meditate on the Way of the Targ (Read 13014 times) previous topic - next topic
0 Members and 1 Guest are viewing this topic.

[2374] USS Hamburg: Meditate on the Way of the Targ

@Dumedion‍

USS Hamburg; Near Aldus Prime | 2374 | Holodeck 2

“No! Do it again!” the same growl that had been bothering her for the past three hours. Sweat trickled down her back, collected in the small of it and made her pants feel like they fit wrong. Her shoulders and arms shone with the wet leaking out of her pores.

“The fuck do you mean again?” Kath complained before feeling a meaty fist box her ear.

“Again! Your form is wrong!” her ‘teacher’ for lack of a better word answered.

The holodeck was stifling. They were nearing the end of their hours that had been reserved for it. The first hour had consisted of a spar that Kath was still not sure her pride would ever recover from. To say nothing of the fact her back was sore from getting dropped to the floor more times than she could count.

Honestly, if she had been hit with Klingon painstiks she would probably not be in as much… well, pain.

Panting softly, Kath wiped her face of sweat.

“This isn’t fucking fair and you know it! I don’t have your stamina!” Kath argued further.

Shaking her head, the Klingon hybrid that towered over Kath by about six inches reached out and smacked Kath’s thigh, forcing it into the right position for the Mok’Bara form Kath was learning.

“I could have done that myself if you had said so,” Kath grumbled, wiggling her toes against the cool floor of the holographic gym.

“Yet you did not,” NuQach pointed out. She then folded her arms across her chest, making her biceps ripple slightly.

One could be forgiven for thinking Kath might be attracted to her friend. NuQach certainly had all of the physical qualities Kath looked for in a significant other, but their relationship was strictly platonic. But she did sometimes get distracted by NuQach’s musculature.

“You are the worst teacher,” Kath accused. That just made the Klingon hybrid grin, showing sharp teeth that matched the Klingon side of her in addition to the sagittal crest that was actually rather impressive for a half-Klingon. Not that Kath would actually say that.

“You went through ATT and you’re mad about how I teach Mok’Bara?” NuQach asked, laughing softly.

“They use their words in ATT far more than you do!” Kath replied, swinging her fist lazily at the taller woman. But NuQach wasn’t about to let her get away with that. She reached up and snatched Kath’s fist out of the air and then sent one foot (blessedly bare of shoe or boot) at Kath’s knee, making it buckle. Kath hit the floor, groaning. Fuck.

“Mok’Bara is not about words it is about beating your enemy into submission!” NuQach answered, with Kath mouthing the last half of her words as she had heard it many, many times by that point. But wasn’t that just like a Klingon? Everything was about being better than your opponent, better than a friend.

Huffing, Kath got back up then took a few steps back away from her friend. Her feet slid easily into place in the Third Form that NuQach was trying to teach her. Her arms rose and she let her fingers spread and curl, as if about to claw an enemy.

“See? You can do it. You know how to do it, you’re just staying too far into your head!” NuQach said. “You want everything to be perfect it makes you imperfect. You second guess yourself, that’s why your legs weren’t in the right position. Your body knows these forms. Let it slide into them.”

Kath shook her head a little bit as if in denial before she was sliding into the next form. Then the next. She knew that muscle memory was a thing. She knew she had to let her body memorize the forms she was shown. But her training did not let her just turn her brain off and let her body go through the motions.

But her friend knew that. Half the arguments were for the sheer fact that NuQach was trying to teach Kath to just let her body do the work and stop thinking all the damn time.

Kath was just finishing getting into Form 7 when a klaxon rang out.

Yellow Alert. Get to duty stations.

"Guess I'm not getting that shower I wanted," Kath remarked, swiping up her water from the floor while NuQach did the same with hers.

"You'll still smell a fair sight better than Lt. Fields," NuQach pointed out as they left the holodeck. It sent Kath into almost-hysterics. They both were still in their workout uniform but yellow and red alerts did not allow them the luxury of getting changed.


USS Hamburg | Vulcan Border | 2374 | Transporter Room 1

The tactical vest fit like a fucking glove and Kath found herself so damn pumped even if logically she should be nervous. The Dominion War had exploded hot, but Kath was in her element. She was twenty-eight years old and had had plenty of experiences since being that fresh-faced Ensign at the ass-end of the Federation-Cardassian war. Going through ATT, getting training as a spook (thank you, Pav), she was ready for whatever came her way.

Kath glanced over at NuQach who was in her version of 'the zone'. Her fingers curled tight around her phaser rifle, a snarl on her face that made her look very fearsome and mad at everyone. But her eyes were focused on nothing. She was, in a way, using Mok'Bara to prepare herself for the fight ahead.

"Qapla'?" Kath asked as they stood on the transporter pad together.

"Qapla'!" NuQach replied after a short pause. Success. They would succeed. They had to. And then the transporter beams had the small squad of Starfleet officers in their grip and they disappeared from the pad in a sparkle of gold light.

Vulcan Border | 2374 | Evac #47475

The first thing Kath noticed when she appeared on the ground was the fact that things were too quiet. There should have been a lot of noise after the SOS had been sent out. Where were the Jem'Hadar? The Starfleet officers on the ground? Everyone awaiting evac in general?

Kath shared a glance with NuQach and then looked at the rest of her squad. She got shrugs. The Hamburg had detected COMMbadges down here, so there had to be Starfleet somewhere. But comms had not gotten through to whoever might be down here and without being sure that the person attached to the COMMbadge was actually Starfleet there would be no transporter locks and pulling up.

Re: [2374] USS Hamburg: Meditate on the Way of the Targ

Reply #1 –
[PO3 Kino Taer | J’rovia Reclusiam | 2374] Attn: @JacenSoloDjo

As far as Vulcan research centers went, Kino figured it was a nice enough place...for a Vulcan anyway. Hot, dry, only slightly irradiated – due to the immense output of the enormous red super-giant star which dominated the sky and also wreaked havoc on their communications – oh, and yeah, couldn’t forget the absolutely fascinating ruins that dotted the endless, flat-assed landscape around the main settlement for several dozen kilometers. Kino had fuck-all idea what they were, and couldn’t honestly give a shit, but they were important enough for the Vulcans to build a sizable colony around them; the very same center for higher education and research that the Jem’Hadar had pretty much leveled in less than a day.

Guess they never expected anyone would bring a war this close to their doorstep.

But they did – with ruthless efficiency – and by the time Kino found herself planetside, everything had already gone to shit. Close to twenty-five hundred civilians were massacred before Starfleet could even respond with a token relief group, which consisted of two teams of five security officers led by LT Kael’straz, a hard-nosed Andorian prick that Kino couldn’t stand but respected despite their differences. The man had a backbone of solid neutronium and knew his craft, but seemed to enjoy riding her ass more than anything. To say they didn’t get along was an understatement, but then again, Kino didn’t get along with most people; too much attitude – too much mouth. She spoke her mind and didn’t give a fuck what people thought, regardless what was on their collar.

The whole situation was fucked, and was rather telling of how the War was going as far as Kino was concerned; stuck on the defensive with no real plan of attack – it was like they were fighting just enough to fall back again. One didn’t need to be a Starfleet Academy graduate with a shiny piece of brass to know that wasn’t a winning strategy – not that anyone had asked her opinion on the matter. These were her thoughts, the ones that kept her persistently pissed off and even toxic to be around, despite the fact that she’d fight tooth and nail for the lives of every single one of her team-mates and the civvies she was duty-bound to protect -because at the end of the day, she’d signed up to save lives, and fight for the Federation, even if that same Federation proved nothing but a disappointment.

Better than sticking it out back home in a cell, I guess.

A sudden, shrill snore broke through her thoughts. Taer pulled back from her scope to glace at Garnn’s prone form, twitching in sleep. He’d only just laid down ten minutes ago, tucked into the shade of their concealed position high up on the topmost level of one of the few towers the Jems had left intact after another raid a few hours ago. From that vantage point, the two of them had nearly 360 degrees of observation of the entire complex – or what was left of it. Three other pairs had split off and positioned themselves in likewise hidden observation points at every cardinal direction; pulling security, but mostly waiting for the bastards to come in and finish them all off. It was all the LT’s call, of course - dig in, sit tight, wait for relief and reinforcement…

Yeah, right, Taer scoffed. Who’d be dumb enough to come down to this shithole for a handful of civvies?

“TOC, OP2,” Kino’s earpiece crackled with static, which forced her to wince on instinct. Speak of the devil, as Humans say, the Trill rolled her light-blue eyes. The Bolian at her side stirred and gripped his rifle tighter on instinct. Taer waved at him with her fingers over the scope of her own rifle, a gesture that told him to relax and stay down. “OP2, go,” she answered.

“Motion sensors tripped…ruins due north…anything?” LT Kael’s words were drowned with intermittent static, barely readable, but Kino got the gist. Probably just more local wildlife, she guessed, as everyone that could have been evacuated to the main research facility had been evacuated prior to the last raid; nothing remained in the ruins but corpses and mines.

“Stand-by TOC,” Taer answered as she pivoted her rifle and peered through the scope. Four hundred meters out, a dust devil wandered in the baked clay stretch between the outskirts of the main facility and the ruins; beyond that, the ruins themselves were a quartet of half toppled pyramids surrounding a fractured courtyard of salt-caked open ground. Kino had primed the few mines they could spare at every entrance there herself, once they’d found the handful of survivors. Through the scope, all she could make out through the dust was a heat-shimmered haze of ancient, rune covered rubble. “Negative contacts,” she reported.

“...subsurface tunnel and recon...want to be sure. Report...immediately,” Kael ordered, “...an order.”

This fucking guy, Kino grimaced. “Copy TOC. Moving,” she answered, then shook the Bolian awake. “Saddle up, brother - we got dumb shit to do,” she told him with a smirk.

[Archaeological Site Gamma | Five minutes later]

Kino and Grann rose out of the subterranean maglev via a lift from beneath the main pyramid, weapons up and scanning for threats. The interior of the structure was cool and damp, heavy with the dusty stench of old scrolls and rot, a cinnamon spice in the air that wasn’t quite noticeable but also wasn’t easily overlooked. They stalked to the entrance in overwatch, one bounding while the other covered. As soon as Kino peered out into the bright, red-tinted courtyard, she swore under her breath, while the Bolian huffed incredulously at her shoulder a second later.

“Guess the distress call finally got through the EM quakes,” Grann mused quietly.

“Guess so,” Kino whispered back, then jutted her chin at the team milling about in the square. “So, who’s gonna tell them they’re standing in the middle of a fucking minefield, huh?”

“Don’t mess around Taer – pull the plug and lets get back to the TOC,” Grann growled at her.

“Fine, fine,” the Trill snorted, slung her rifle, then pulled the tricorder from a pouch at her belt. As the Bolian stood from cover to edge out into the courtyard, the Trill remained, only looking up once the dozen or so mines in the area had been disarmed to stand-by mode. Grann issued a shrill whistle to get the newcomers attention, then waved them over inside the ruin. After stowing her tricorder, Kino brought her rifle back up to cover them – just in case any Jems decided to de-cloak and spoil the meet and greet. As they got closer, Kino couldn't help but shake her head in wry amusement.

"Welcome to the shitshow," she muttered under her breath.

Re: [2374] USS Hamburg: Meditate on the Way of the Targ

Reply #2 –
Archaeological Site Gamma | 2374 | Evac #47475 re: @Dumedion‍ 

Kath looked around herself, frowning. The coordinates were not ideal in the least. If anyone had wanted to ambush them, this would have been the perfect place to do it. She would have preferred better coordinates but she was not in charge of that. She did know that if she had been the one giving the coordinates she would have gotten her ass chewed out.

Her experience with Cardassian booby traps and IEDs made her suddenly stiffen. She shot out a hand as one of her younger counterparts, a Bajoran, started forward and all she could think about was No! Althan, Althan, Althan! Her grip was tighter than she meant as her fingers curled around their shoulder and yanked them back, making the poor Ensign grunt in pain. Of course they could all be forgiven for thinking they had been dropped into a spot that was completely safe (as subjective as the term could be in war).

"No," she hissed, then gestured with her rifle, releasing the young Ensign's arm at the same time without apology. As soon as she did, she heard a whistle that made her rifle snap up. Her eyes narrowed as they alighted upon two figures mostly in shadow from the ruins they stood inside. Just two? Kath had to wonder: was that all that remained by the time they could get here? As soon as her well-trained mind registered friendlies, her rifle lowered. But she did not stow it over her shoulder by the strap. No way, there was always the possibility of an attack by the Jem'Hadar (and later in life Kath would find herself suspicious of all acquaintances at first because Changeling meant doppelgänger).

"Well, at least we found what we were looking for and it wasn't a trap," NuQach noted. She was the last one to lower her rifle, eyes hard and ready for trouble. Kath nodded a little. At least.

Flexing her fingers around the barrel just ahead of the trigger guard and the pistol grip of the phaser rifle, she led the way forward-- taking point even if her rank would have afforded her the privilege of being towards the back. That was not how the Lieutenant Junior Grade operated. NuQach prowled at her right hand side, just a couple paces behind the war veteran. The Klingon hybrid kept her head on a swivel, her torso twisted to the side to sweep the area around them.

The three others with her and NuQach were two Ensigns (the earlier Bajoran, and the other Vulcan), and a Chief Petty Officer (Human) who took up the rear post watching out for their six. They were in general a ragtag bunch, and not the only group listed to head down to the surface once the full situation was figured out and reported on (in whatever way was available). They worked well together. Trained hard together. They were soldiers to match Kath's intensity as the Eternal Soldier of the Federation. Each taking everything just as seriously as she did, as hard as she did. In another timeline, they might be considered worthy of elite soldier status on the level of a Navy SEAL or Marine Special Ops.

The Lieutenant JG could see that the Trill was talking but could not parse the words as the group drew closer and away from their LZ. An eyebrow rose at the headshake as Kath's only real reaction. But Kath looked over as she heard NuQach hiss in frustration and did not see the Klingon hybrid roll her eyes.

<What?> Kath asked in Klingonese, voice low and coming out of one side of her mouth. But NuQach shook her head as they got within a proper distance of the two other Starfleet personnel. Kath herself felt frustration at her Klingon hybrid friend going tight-lipped. But then she glanced at the Trill, Kino and the Bolian, Grann. Brown eyes flicked to the ranks adhered to the uniforms the pair wore as her group filed into the ruins and out of the open. Her first instinct was to complain about the lack of proper coordinates in the SOS, but this NCO was not in charge of that, and even then things had been garbled. But it was still odd, and frustrating. Where was this group's orbital defense? What had happened? Where the fuck was everyone? They had expected to be dropped into a hot zone. To say the intel was apparently fucked up would be an understatement. But it was not Kath's first experience with shitty ass intel (which had meant that her time as SFI had meant she made extra sure she was pushing along the right stuff to the best of her knowledge and refused to suggest sending in a team without the right recon reports).

"I'm Lieutenant Katherine MacFarlane but y'can call me Kath or Mac for short. The giant mess to my right is Lieutenant NuQach. then basically hiding behind me is Ensign Asher No'a and yes that is in the correct naming convention, and we got Ensign Karatek as our token Vulcan, and Chief Petty Officer Adelaide Shevchenko," she introduced herself and her squad, nodding her head to each of her teammates in turn.

She politely waited for the returning introductions and nodded, all serious and intense and ready to be attacked by the enemy at any moment.

"Alright. Let's walk and talk sitrep, Petty Officer. And I have more than a few questions for your ranking officer, if they yet live," she stated while nodding her head over the younger Trill's shoulder, eyes directly on Kino, Kath's tone carefully neutral and her voice firm and all business. None of this was a Non-Com's fault, there would be no dressing down.

Kath's personality on the job was often at odds with the looser, gooser off-duty Kath and her friends were used to it by that point.

Re: [2374] USS Hamburg: Meditate on the Way of the Targ

Reply #3 –
[PO3 Kino Taer | J’rovia Reclusiam | Archaeological Site Gamma | 2374] Attn: @JacenSoloDjo

Whoa, we got some live ones here, Taer’s brows rose as she looked the newcomers over, then exchanged a glance with Grann. They moved as one, like a well oiled machine, in perfectly textbook formation; each of them wore crisp, clean uniforms – every member of the team outfitted in standardized kit – every piece of gear immaculately serviceable. Shit, someone break out the recruitment holo, Kino snorted sarcastically to herself as they passed, then quickly re-armed the mines while the head-honcho began her introductions. Once that was done, the Trill stood and idled next to Grann, rifle slung over her chest, and listened.

Kino’s eyes locked with the LT throughout, only breaking off to glance at each named officer. Mac was easy enough to remember, Newcrotch as well; the Klingon was hard to miss. Taer frowned in confusion at the third, Noah, on account of the unique nose ridges she’d never seen before, but mostly because no one had tried to correct or interrupt the LT’s pronunciation of the guys name – but the non-com shrugged nonchalantly and let it pass. When the fourth member was named and labeled as their ‘token’ Vulcan, Kino stifled a laugh with her hand, then quickly tried to play it off like she was performing the customary hand greeting they all liked to do; unfortunately, her fingers wouldn’t spread right, which aborted the attempt just as quickly. The Chief had faced out, but her chin lifted in greeting anyway.

They all looked so new and wound up, the non-com wondered for a second why they seemed so familiar; like something out of a holo-series – all stern expressions and dynamic body language – alpha predators of badassery and all that bullshit…

Then it clicked.

Shit me, its the fucking A-Team! Of course, not soon after that thought, Kino heard the theme song start up in her head, but when the LT paused, Kino blinked and glanced at Grann again. As if sensing the build up of smart-assery in Kino, the Bolian cleared his throat quietly as his eyes bulged in a prompt for her to speak professionally. Or at least try to.

“Oh, right,” the non-com sniffed and wiped her mouth to hide her smirk, then jerked her thumb at him. “This is Grann,” then Kino waved at herself. “I’m Taer,” she nodded, frowning at the weird formality for a second before her eyes moved over all of them again. Every one of them looked ready to to jump at the slightest provocation; buttholes locked tighter than a Ferengi banker. “Y’know, y’all can ease up -” she began, but was drowned out by the LT.

“He’s alive, or better be,” Grann answered matter-of-factly, then shrugged in explanation. “Owes me four strips of latnium,” he added at their blank expressions.

“Sure thing, Mac,” Taer interjected quickly with a brittle smile as she ran a hand through her short-cropped silver hair. “Lift’ll take us back the way we came through the service tunnel. It’s close quarters with low visibility, and home to the occasional rat, but clear; so please mind your trigger discipline,” she spoke over her shoulder while she walked through the middle of their formation – speaking to all of them. “No idea where the Jems are, but they don’t like the tunnels or don’t know about them, apparently.”

The Trill activated a dust covered control panel lit with Vulcan symbols to open the lift access at her feet, then gestured into the darkness with one hand. “Here,” her eyes rose to meet the LT’s, “I’ll take point,” the non-com stated casually, then turned to jerk her head at Grann. “Close it up behind everyone, double flash when your ready.”

The stoic Bolian nodded, then patted her shoulder and moved off as Kino stepped onto the platform. “It only fits two at a time, but its the safest, quickest route back,” she lifted a shoulder, then a finger at Newcrotch, the Klingon that towered head and shoulders above everyone. “You uh...might wanna duck down there.”

[Maglev Tunnel, moments later…]

It was substantially cooler underground; the darkness lit only by the shifting white cones of light that streamed out from phaser rifles – constantly in motion, painting the smooth carved rock around them in shadows of madness. Kino blinked rapidly as she walked, trying to speed up her eye adjustment while attempting to hail LT Kael in the TOC. After two tries met with nothing but static distortion, she gave up. Once they were all in, Grann flashed his torch at the ceiling twice in signal - which told Kino the lift had been secured and re-mined, so they could get the hell on with it.

“Comms are useless beyond a few hundred meters thanks to Big Red,” Kino explained as she walked. “So, sitrep – you want the long or short version?”

Re: [2374] USS Hamburg: Meditate on the Way of the Targ

Reply #4 –
Archaeological Site Gamma; Maglev Tunnel | 2374 | Evac #47475 Re: @Dumedion‍

Karatek lifted one eyebrow at Kino but said nothing, but with a deadpan expression offered the correct hand sign that was reminiscent of the Jewish benediction sign. Kath had often remarked how refreshing it was to have an almost mute Vulcan.

"We will ease up when we can be stationary and behind the perimeter," NuQach spoke up instead of Kath. It made the human woman smirk a little. Typical Klingon intensity that outbid her own. Which was saying a lot. Asking a Klingon to relax would be likely to make them dig in their heels and be worse about it.

And maybe, just maybe, Kath was walking slightly stilted from the earlier spar that had practically bruised her tailbone. There had been no time to get any medical attention and so Kath literally had to suffer both the pain and indignity. (While swearing to herself her next spar based in Mok'Bara would have her sending NuQach to the mat instead.)

Kath glanced over at her squad at the idea of being in close quarters and basically trapped in a lift. They had run that simulation multiple times in the past. Never made Kath feel easier. But she then faced forward and laughed softly.

"Not a problem, I like rats," she stated, a smirk quirking at her features.

Her instinct was to snap back, remark she was better trained than that. They all were. Kath was used to the general idea that nobody actually wanted to be there, and she could practically see it coming off of Kino in waves. But then, the whole reason they were there at all was to relieve Kino and her group of the burden of being somewhere they didn't want to be.

"Yes, it seems no one actually knows where they are until--" No'a started saying but Adelaide kicked the back of their boot. Kath and NuQach shared a look then a twin eyeroll. Fuck's sake it was contagious.

Kath cleared her throat then and shifted her rifle so the barrel tapped against her shoulder with the end of it pointing up as she waited for the young Trill to get everything in place. NuQach almost bared her teeth at the idea of needing to duck which she was always ready to do, but for the sake of cohesion, refrained.

As soon as everyone got through the other end of the lift, Kath glanced at her rifle as it dropped back into position in both hands. She paused as Kino spoke up again.

Karatek stood and wiped his boots of the mess from their landing by scraping them on the floor. It was the only sound for a moment. Kath gave the Vulcan a look which he just shrugged off.

"So we noticed," Kath said, perking a brow as she glanced back at Kino. The mess with the comms was in a way why they were down there to begin with.

"They would've sent an engineer with us but we were expecting a warzone," Adelaide piped up from her spot near the back.

"What I would like, Petty Officer Taer, is the sitrep that explains why I am here and not enjoying what was supposed to be my day off," Kath said, her tone mild despite the wording. Even if that meant getting her face bashed in by a half-Klingon's fists. "Whether or not that takes an essay or a sentence."

<LT, we also need to figure out better coordinates for the Beta Squad,> No'a put in, in Bajoran.

<One thing at a time, Ensign,> Kath replied, glancing at them over her shoulder.

As they walked, Kath went over the objectives and intel in her head.

Kath looked at Kino then after a short time of blessed silence only broken by the sound of breathing and boots padding across the ground, brown eyes glinting with intrigue.

"By the way, you seemed not to recognize No'a as being Bajoran, or why I made a stink about how their name should be viewed. Your first time seeing one? The wormhole over Bajor is the reason we have the Jem'hadar knocking our stuff over like a bully at the beach," Kath said, sounding gentler now ironically.

No'a snorted softly at the simile but they said nothing even if it was their home.

--------

OOC: I wrote this on mobile while waiting for my concert and I'm too tired to do a lot of revision lol

Re: [2374] USS Hamburg: Meditate on the Way of the Targ

Reply #5 –
[PO3 Kino Taer | J’rovia Reclusiam | Maglev Tunnel | 2374] Attn: @JacenSoloDjo

Ahh Klingons, Taer mused with an inward chuckle; they never failed to amuse. She’d never met a more easily aggravated or predictable people in her short life. Posturing was everything to them; much like the ganger-shitheads she’d slummed with back home. Unlike most people, though, Kino didn’t have the sense to leave well enough alone, and certainly wasn’t intimidated. What was Nucrotch gonna do, really, beyond bare her fangs and gnash at air? Kino had ignored her comment with a smirk; as if there was really a perimeter anyway.

“We had an engineer, and this was a warzone, but -” Grann replied to the Chief, but then MacFarlane spoke up to clarify her demand for a situational report, then exchanged a few words in a language neither Kino nor the Bolian understood.

For her part, Taer just kept walking. In her mind, the sooner they got to LT Kael, the sooner she’d be relieved from dealing with all these pips. Fuck sakes, I thought one was bad enough, she rolled her eyes in the darkness.

Nearly the same time the non-com had turned her head to answer Mac, she found herself faced with yet another confusing interaction. Is she serious? Kino’s eyes narrowed at the human, then blinked as someone's light flashed across her features; the Bajoran, Noah.

“Uh, yeah. First time seein’ one; heard about y’all though,” the Trill lifted her chin to them. “Something, something, invisible hole in space-time, leads to the Gamma Quadrant? Cardie occupation? Resistance fighters – some more extreme than others,” she shrugged, “oh, and yeah,” her face turned back to Mac, “a whole ass war. Yeah, heard about that.”

Grann cleared his throat quietly. “Kino,” he warned.

By that point she’d stopped walking. “What,” the Trill laughed and waved a hand at the LT, “I just answered her question.”

“The sitrep -” the Bolian prompted.

“Right,” Kino huffed and ran a hand over her face, then took a knee. “Alright everyone pile in,” she waved at them with a sigh; they were about to hear a very similar story from Kael in a matter of minutes, so she really didn’t see the point – but did it anyway.

“Twelve hours and some change ago, the Vulcans,” she pointed to Mr. Token Blankface, “received a garbled DC, so we hauled ass out here on the Novoselov; two ten-man squads beamed down and instantly lost all contact with the Novo – due to Big Red. What we found was a massacre, the entire colony was trashed, thousands dead. Since we got here its been nothing but pulling bodies for ID and burial, pulling security for what’s left of the central library, and fighting off the Jems when they get bored or ballsy enough to try to test us. Best guess at enemy strength puts them at similar numbers, but who the hell knows, the fuckers only de-cloak when they wanna fight.” Kino paused to gesture at Grann. “We had an engineer that was trying to restore power and comms, but ended up getting himself fried in the process; so we set another DC with a looped warning – which y’all clearly didn’t get – requesting aerial retrieval, so whoever came looking wouldn’t fall into the same shit-show we’re stuck in.”

Taer turned to Grann, then. “How's that? I miss anything?”

The Bolian shrugged. “No, that’s about the gist of it,” he muttered.

“Outstanding,” the non-com nodded, “any questions,” Kino added as she stood.

[Meanwhile…]

Veyat Three paced in the stifling confines of the command deck with his violet eyes closed; he’d been waiting for hours but it seemed like days – all the while his faithful, loyal Jem’Hadar constantly shifted out of his path. In truth, he served the Founders in every way; for what other purpose did he live? And yet, in secret, he loathed this thankless duty. Surely, a Vorta of his pedigree, of his usefulness, would achieve more in their Grand Plan elsewhere? He would bathe in heretic blood, enough to quench the stars themselves, if that was what they commanded – yet here he was, leader of a token assault force – raiding meaningless worlds, for meaningless victories. All for show, all to confound and confuse an overwhelmed adversary who was already too weak to defend itself.

I was made for more than this.

His brows creased as he stopped quite suddenly. Such vanity, Veyat Three chastised himself. The Founders will be done in all things, in all purpose, in all outcomes. That is what I was made for – to serve their will.

“Range,” he intoned, for the umpteenth time.

“Two cycles to maximum. Primary systems on stand-by, maneuvering thrusters only,” his First answered without hesitation, as always.

Veyat Three opened his violet eyes, and through the tactical headset, witnessed his prey in stately orbit over a doomed and worthless world of rock, sand, and pointless memory. “Ah, the Federation: our worthy opponents,” he sighed, utterly bored. “How these people managed to rule nearly an entire Quadrant is quite beyond me. I truly hope the Founders bring them enlightenment,” he mused as he examined his fingernails. “Well, the few that survive, anyway.”

The Vorta paused to look around at his Jem’Hadar in expectation of a reply, but then remembered that they never would, so he sighed again. “Very well,” he gestured lazily. “Eliminate them, then retrieve our forces from the ground – this ruse has borne pathetic fruit. It’s high time we moved on to more bountiful hunting grounds.”

At his command, from the void, with the baleful light of the red super-giant at their backs - three Dominion attackers powered up their somnolent systems and leapt forward to engage.

Re: [2374] USS Hamburg: Meditate on the Way of the Targ

Reply #6 –
Archaeological Site Gamma; Maglev Tunnel | 2374 | Evac #47475 Re: @Dumedion‍ 

At the response to the vet's attempt to offer an olive branch and learn more about where the non-com stood when it came to Bajorans, Kath and No'a both looked at each other, eyebrows raised. No'a then shrugged their shoulders in a way of saying 'not worth it'. Adelaide shifted her weight and checked her own rifle, deciding that speaking at that point would be unnecessary.  NuQach offered a low growl, however. She knew that Kath was doing her best to be nice despite the frustration attacking them all. But NuQach had no such inclinations. Kath was the senior Lieutenant, however, and did not need any of her crewmates butting into the conversation. 

"No," Karatek spoke up in response to the distress call mishegas before Kath had a chance to do so, his voice devoid of emotion though there was a trace of something in his voice. "What we received was a distress call that required a lot of cleaning up but the interference prevented certain intel from getting to us and it was assumed that we could fix the issues when we got a team on the ground. Our Captain decided that the risk of the Jem'Hadar having their claws on COMMbadges in whatever way they could meant it was required we get visual confirmation before we allow for anyone to be transported up to the Hamburg in addition to the concern that there was in fact an attack in progress requiring us to put our boots on the ground when it came to evac'ing civilians. If those precautions had not been taken, I am sure none of us would have needed to ever meet face to face."

A shake of the head was then given by Kath. No, she had no questions pertaining to the mission itself. At least not questions that could be answered by an NCO, so Kath remained steely silent, her jaw clenching as she used the basics of Mok'Bara to empty her mind of everything but the mission itself. To think only of getting her people out of the situation. To be the leader she had been trained to be when it came to her Security squad. 

Kath found herself hoping things finished quickly. She really would have preferred having her day off, would have preferred taking another fist to the face than trying to navigate an interaction with a Trill deciding to put the 'petty' into petty officer. The Eternal Soldier felt herself exasperated and wondering how exactly this... child had gotten where she was at all. But, Kath was not the CO nor did she really feel like flinging her weight around. All she wanted was to get things done. (But then, that was all she ever wanted to do when it came down to it.)

So with that in mind, Kath took point, maneuvering around the younger woman, given the rest of the movement through the tunnel was straightforward and all she cared about was getting out of the fucking tunnel, eyeballing how many had to be transported up, placing down the targeting laser that would allow for the Hamburg to get coordinates that would not drop a new squad into the middle of a minefield, and then getting Kath up and away given her expertise was not needed here. It was a job for Beta Squad, made up of medical staff, science officers, and engineers. 

As soon as they were back in the open air, Kath slung her rifle over her shoulder. The rest of her squad followed suit in somewhat discordant timing as they all looked around as well. Brown eyes flicked over the immediate area. A short exhale. It was not the first time she had dealt with being on the verge of a pyrrhic victory but that did not mean she was fine with it. Her gaze rose to the sky and she squinted in thought. She was security (with tactical... tacked on), her mind never being particularly science focused. While boldly going, you still needed people who could offer protection. She was good at that. Very good. The sheep dog on alert for the wolves. 

Dear Papi, I'm ready for the pendejos from distant shores to go the fuck away, she thought to herself, her fingers twitching at her sides as she walked forward. 

<Gimmie the light stick,> Kath called over her shoulder in Ukrainian. That wasn't what it was actually called but she did not have it in her to bother with the real name.

<Aye, Sir,> Adelaide said then shrugged off her pack and removed a thin pole approximately the length of her forearm then with a couple smooth, swift motions had extended it as well as unfolded the base of it. Once fully assembled, she handed it over. Taking it, Kath glanced around herself before finding a relatively clear area with a straight shot to the sky. Placing it down, she flicked a switch midway up the pole. Seemingly nothing happened, but Kath was apparently satisfied, putting her fists on her hips and glancing up at the sky again with a faint smile on her face. Even if she didn't know how it worked, she was of course content knowing that it did.

Running a hand through her high-and-tight, Kath glanced back at Kino. 

"Now, if you'll be so kind as to get me to your CO, we can all get out of your hair in short order," she stated, tone bland which meant she had given up keeping a camaraderie veneer. And won't we all be happy for that? she thought to herself, preventing herself from rubbing her hip which continued to ache from her earlier day's activities in addition to the scar from when her hip had practically gotten shot off in the last war she had been in. 

For the first time, concern reflected in NuQach's eyes as she gazed at her friend. But she said nothing, instead she simply folded her arms across her chest and settled into 'hurry up and wait' mode, which Klingons were (in)famously incapable of doing all that well. With the targeting laser set up, all she and her squadmates had to do was wait for the Hamburg in orbit to get her Galaxy-class ass in gear and fulfill the second half of the plan for this FUBAR situation. 

USS Hamburg; Bridge | 2374 |  Simultaneously

Captain Pawlowski pinched the bridge of his nose as he sat in the 'Big Chair'. Every time he had to send Kath into battle, it always made him antsy. Losing anyone under his command was hard, but he feared one day of having to tell one of his oldest friends that his daughter had been killed because of an order Pawlowski gave. 

When contact had been lost (as they all knew was likely to happen), his anxiety shot up even more. Kath could die and he would not know right away. 

Getting up, he grunted to himself and tucked his hands behind his back. The silver at his temples glinted in the light of the Bridge. At least he could not say he had gone gray because of the war. That had come before. A genetic disposition he had had no control over. 

"Captain!" his science officer called out from her station. He paused and glanced over. 

"Yes?" he asked, a brow raised.

"We've received a non-auditory signal from the planet. It's intermittent likely from the sun but it's there. It seems Lieutenant MacFarlane has been successful in finding the survivors," Science answered. 

"Excellent, then get--" he started to say but then...

"Captain, we have enemy contact!" Tactical, the officer Kath would replace later in the war, shouted. 

"Of course," Pawlowski muttered under his breath. "Red alert! Fire off our comm buoy to the edge of the system with all the intel we prepped in it!" 

"Aye, Sir!" 

Evac would have to wait, but they had all been prepared for this situation including the team on the ground. Ambush tactics had ceased to surprise anymore. He knew Kath would get things done on the surface. This was what she had trained for. She was an ATT graduate, had always been a Security officer at heart. The kind of soldier that the Federation needed most, lately.

Re: [2374] USS Hamburg: Meditate on the Way of the Targ

Reply #7 –
[PO3 Kino Taer | J’rovia Reclusiam | Central Courtyard near Main Librarius | 2374] Attn: @JacenSoloDjo

“You think Vulcans ever jerk off,” Kino mused aloud while they waited.

She hung back with Grann as their ‘rescuers’ went about their business, hunkered down out of the glaring red-tinted light and heat in the shade of a blown out building; back to the rubble wall, rifle tucked across her lap. Kino’s eyes panned across the broken courtyard, watching the alleys and avenues back they way they had come – the Bolian stood nearby, his back to her as he watched the opposite direction. Neither had spoken since the tunnel; a clear indication of tension – Grann only quit yapping when something was bothering him. Wouldn’t be the first time he’d nutted up around her, and Kino knew it wasn’t going to be the last.

“C’mon brother. Y’got something to say, just say it,” Taer sighed quietly without turning around, but heard him shuffle as he shifted his weight; a habit she’d noticed when he felt awkward.

“We are not kin, and I’d rather not get into it right now.”

The Trill shook her head, ignoring the hard edge in his tone. “Wont ask again.”

“What is wrong with you?” Grann hissed, in a mixture of bewilderment and annoyance.

Ah here we go, Kino snorted, another lecture inbound. “Be specific.”

Grann grunted in reply; apparently unimpressed with the levity in Kino’s tone. “That. You. The way you always have to make everyone an enemy, and treat everything like it’s a joke. What’s your problem, Taer?”

“Low tolerance for bullshit,” Kino deadpanned through a smile, “and a healthy aversion to authority.”

The Bolian kept quiet at that. They hadn’t worked together long; barely more than a month – but of all the squad mates under Kael’s command, Grann seemed to tolerate Kino the most, which said more about him rather than her. Maybe it was the fact that Taer had screwed her life up so bad that she wasn’t given a choice in joining this outfit, or maybe she really was just a rebel without cause, hell bent on fighting just for the hell of it because that was all she knew how to do? Maybe she just really didn't give a shit and never would, because it was all just another fucked up system that deserved to be burnt to the ground? Either way, playing nice with others was never her strong suit; not after everything she’d been through. Why Grann even cared was a mystery to her.

“Look, we get out of this, we’ll have a beer and you can act like you really give a shit, just like everyone else. Till then, do me a favor and watch your sector,” Kino filled the tense silence, for lack of anything better to say.

She heard him sigh wearily, then shift his weight again. “This is why no one likes you, Kino.” 

Taer only nodded, relieved to let the matter lie; it was far easier to accept people’s assumptions and judgments than try to explain herself. “Yeah, probably,” she shrugged, nonchalant, then tried to raise the TOC again. Now that they were closer, with the Library only a stroll across the bombed-out courtyard, she got through just as MacFarlane and company finished up whatever the hell they were doing out in the open. Kino assumed they knew better than she did.

“Taer, report,” Kael’s voice crackled with static.

“Got friendlies inbound LT, group of,” she glanced back to count, “five. I’ll send ‘em in the front.”

“Acknowledged. I’ll greet them in the atrium – get your team back to OP1,” Kael’s stoicism bled through his voice, “and stay sharp. We’re tracking intermittent contacts in orbit – wait. Stand by.”

“Wilco,” Taer kept the channel open, then turned back to face Mac’s group and lifted her chin to the giant pyramid structure across the way, and quickly relayed what Kael said. “Main entrance is down the stairs, you can’t miss it. Just past the barricade at your 10 o’clock, 150 meters, this side of the – “

“Kino,” Grann interrupted.

The Trill turned to him, then frowned in confusion; the Bolian was looking up into the sky, hand shielded against the glare of the enormous star. “Is that...one of ours,” he pointed east, past the ruined skyline of the colony, above the horizon.

Taer looked, and her eyes narrowed; it was a craft, or multiple craft – too far out to tell – only visible by the contrails of atmospheric turbulence in their wake. The Jems had used dropships before, presumably, but until that moment, she’d figured they’d stick to beaming...in a perfect world, anyway. Or, it really could be a shuttle or runabout coming to get them, by some miracle.

Yeah, my lucks not that great, Kino thought bitterly.

The wailing sirens answered before anyone else had a chance.

“Shit! OP1, let’s move,” Kino shouted and spun to take off running towards the TOC and her post, but only made it a few strides before three successive impacts blasted into the far side of the pyramid. The concussion hit an instant after detonation, which reduced the ancient structure to an expanding cloud of dust and debris; it hit with enough force to knock Kino off her feet, punching her backwards to land on her ass and tumble in a sprawl.

Everything went black.

She came to with a gasp; ears ringing, probably bleeding – covered in dust. Taer struggled to pick herself up, hacking up filth from her lungs. The thick pall obscured everything, drowning her universe in mud-brown; she could barely see past her own hand, which reached out to grip the barrel of her rifle – then set about searching for Grann and the others. Fuck, Taer realized suddenly, almost as an afterthought. Kael’s dead. They...they’re all dead.

“Grann,” she hollered, but couldn’t really tell over the high pitched squeal in her ears. “Grann! Sound off,” Taer tried again, then fought down another coughing fit. “Fuck – anybody?!”

“Here,” a muffled voice reached her. Kino scampered over, only to find one of MacFarlane’s entourage trying to lift a boulder – that turned into a mountain of rubble as the wind whipped the grit and dust just enough to see. An arm lay outstretched beneath it that ended in a purple-blue hand; wracked with spasms as fingers clawed at the earth in vain. Taer didn’t waste time or words, she just started digging. The two of them managed to lift and roll enough off to free his head and shoulder, just in time for his arm to cease struggling. Grann was on his back, mauled and covered in his own blood, the rest of his body pinned beneath the rock that crushed him.

Kino checked his vitals anyway, then turned her eyes up to the Vulcan with a shake of her head.

He nodded without any hint of emotion, then turned to find his comrades without a word.

Taer grit her teeth as she closed Grann’s lifeless eyes, then hefted her rifle to join in the search.

Re: [2374] USS Hamburg: Meditate on the Way of the Targ

Reply #8 –
USS Hamburg; Bridge | 2374 | Two minutes previous re: @Dumedion‍ 

"No, I don't care, lock onto every single COMMbadge you can find! We'll deal with the consequences later!" Pawlowski shouted over the klaxon. No plan survives contact with the enemy. Precautions be damned. He had his crew planet-side and he was not going to let them stay down there as he watched the Dominion ships scream past the Hamburg to instead enter atmo, where he could not chase them. Not in a Galaxy-class. 

The comms station nearby reported attempts at connection to the officers on the ground but the electromagnetic interference was still being a nasty little pain in the tuchus for it. All Comms got in response was static. There would be no warnings to the crew on the ground. And Engineering reported that the patterns could not be pinned down. If the crew on the ground had put up transport enhancers then maybe. But that had not been in their plans. None of today had been in anyone's plans. 

Pawlowski would have to have his heart attack later, as he glanced at his Academy class ring on his hand and tried not to think of all the rehearsals he had done for giving the worst news a parent could receive. 

J'Rovia Reclusiam; Rubble | 2374 | Now

The first thing Kath was really aware of was what felt like Morse code being tapped into her boot. And then her eyes opened and she could see what looked like a large star above her, flickering like a star's light getting through Earth's atmosphere tended to do. But that was wrong. She wasn't on Earth and the planet she had been flung down at did not have the same atmosphere setup that would allow for twinkling. 

The almost Morse code got more insistent. She realized then that she couldn't hear a single fucking thing. It was pure silence save for the sound of her heartbeat (which, thank fuck she still had one, right?) thudding in her head. A low groan escaped her as she twisted at the waist slightly then used all of her core muscles to sit up, fingers scrabbling for purchase against the debris that was pinning her already bad hip down. 

Her gaze rose when she saw movement. NuQach waved then pointed two fingers at her own eyes then down at the rubble keeping Kath in place on the ground. Followed up with more of that incessant Morse--- No, Tap Code. Fed Tap Code. Kath's head swam as she tried to actually think now. NuQach was kicking her boot to communicate via Tap which was SOP in case it was uncertain whether a squadmate was deaf or blind.

Prep. Destroy. Phaser.

Kath gave a nod even though it also made her head hurt. She covered her eyes the best she could with her arm as NuQach used her phaser rifle to crack the stone on top of her into two much more manageable pieces. Kath offered a 'Thank you' in Federation Sign. Then NuQach, not all that gently, pulled her up to her feet by her wrist. Kath hissed, instantly going into a flamingo pose as her right side refused to allow any of her weight. NuQach tapped a finger against Kath's shoulder, making her look up. Then the Klingon hybrid pointed to the side. It took a lot of effort for Kath to pivot around and look to see Kino nearby. Well, at least that was one less person to worry about digging out. She noted Karatek catching her gaze then shaking his head, his hand tapping on his thigh. <<B-O-L-G--K-I-A.>> Shit. One confirmed casualty already and she doubted very much was the last.

Still unable to actually hear anything, Kath jerked her head which brought NuQach to her side and sliding an arm around the shorter Human to offer support in the absence of being able to use her right leg. She wondered, idly, if it was broken. Would not be the first time but it was always annoying. (And she often reminded herself that broken was a hell of a lot better than gone.)

No'a... No'a! Kath looked around herself, her concern for the young Bajoran overtaking everything including her pain level. They said that the Human body could perform miraculous feats of strength in times like these. Hell, Kath's had done it before back during the F-C War. Before NuQach could try to tighten her grip on her friend, Kath was darting away-- limping heavily as she did. 

"No'a!" she barked through her COMMbadge even though she could not actually hear any response. But if any answer had come out of her badge, she would have felt the vibration on her chest was her logic. 

Where had No'a been on their way into the fucking building to meet with Lt. Kael? Had... had No'a actually gotten into the pyramid ahead of them all? Where... 

Her breath hitched as she tripped over debris on the ground and nearly faceplanted in her hurry to find the young Bajoran. And then she looked down. It wasn't debris! It was a humanoid leg.

Fuck! Karatek was suddenly at her side and then NuQach caught up to her. The three of them knelt and began to dig into the dirt, brushing it away from whoever it was that had been buried alive. 

Not No'a. Not No'a. Not No'a. 

It was not, in fact, the Bajoran. But Kath's fellow human, Adelaide. 

"козаки́! козаки́! Wake up!" Kath shouted, tapping her knuckles firmly but softly against Adelaide's cheek, not wishing to do further damage to the woman's face. A moan left the Slavic Security officer before her eyes slowly fluttered open. She spat out dirt and blew more of it out of her nose. Kath brushed the dirt away from her non-com's face.

"козаки́, how many fingers?" Kath asked of her friend, using the woman's callsign because it was faster thanks to the Chief Petty Officer always shooting down being referred to as 'Adey'. 

"Nn... three?" Adelaide mumbled. Kath smiled with relief even though she had to rely on reading Adelaide's lips mostly and the fact Adelaide automatically held up her own three fingers. 

But where the fuck was No'a? 

Getting to her feet, Kath helped Adelaide up to her own. Kath did not even notice the fact that there was a large gash in her own torso where her appendix sat that was bleeding. The black cloth of her uniform underneath the tactical vest prevented the red blood from being seen properly. And the spot was just south of where the tactical vest itself ended.

Adelaide looked around before finding her pack nearby and picked it up after brushing dirt off of it then looking to see what all was damaged inside. Most of what she had brought was in shambles. Dammit. 

Karatek walked to where the squad had set up the IR light. It was all but gone save for a rod of tritanium the length of his femur. His blue eyes went over the immediate area, trying to remember where everyone had been at the time of the carpet bombing. 

Slowly, Kath noticed her hearing beginning to return. She could hear the sounds of rubble being moved as efforts were made to get dug up or to dig others out. 

"No'a!" she barked through cupped hands. 

"L. T.!" Adelaide called out. Kath glanced over and saw Adelaide pointing at some of a remaining wall from the pyramid. As one, Kath's squad surged towards the wall. 

"Dammit, No'a," Kath breathed, yanking up the concrete-esque material off of them with help from the rest of her squad. Underneath it, No'a's hand and wrist were both smashed flat and sitting in a pool of blood. 

"козаки́, trauma kit," Kath ordered. She waited a mere moment for Adelaide to find it in the ruins of her pack. Quickly Kath wiped away the blood the best that she could and used a cauterizing tool to close up some of the sliced open veins in No'a's wrist. Kath then set about sliding what looked like a regular plastic bag over both hand and wrist then tied it off. Taking out a hypospray filled with a painkiller next, she pressed it into No'a's shoulder on the same side as their ruined hand. 

"Hey, No'a?" Kath said, checking the young Ensign's pulse. Brown eyes slowly opened at the sound of their name. 

<Big sister?> No'a mumbled, a delirious look in their eyes. 

Kath laughed a little but shook her head. Even if she did view the Bajoran like a younger sibling, she knew No'a was likely confusing her for an actual older sister, of which they had three. 

<No'a, it's me. Mac. You're gonna be okay,> Kath answered, helping No'a to sit up but not stand right away. 

"NuQach, Karatek, you're our two strongest. Go find who you can along with Taer," Kath ordered, keeping her gaze on No'a. 

"Yes, Sir," NuQach and Karatek answered, knowing better than to argue or whine about the assignment. They set off to go catch up with the Trill, knowing that there was a miniscule chance anyone in the pyramid was still alive but that did not mean they would not try. They were Starfleet. It was what they did. 

Without speaking a word to Kino, the Klingon hybrid and Vulcan set about on the task of survivor retrieval. They had to be confident that the Hamburg was not going to abandon them despite the Dominion clearly harrying the position and were more maneuverable than the Galaxy-class. 

<Adelaide, you're the closest thing we have to an Engineer. Try to fix the IR light and have it broadcast an SOS so the Hamburg knows we're still alive down here,> Kath ordered in Ukrainian. 

<Wilco, Lieutenant,> Adelaide agreed and set off. 

Kath then gently palmed No'a's cheek and stared into their eyes. 

<Are you alright?> she asked. 

<Just... just dizzy, LT,> the Ensign said. 

<Sit tight. We're all getting out of here soon.>

Getting up slowly, Kath suddenly let out a cry of pain before crumpling to the ground. 

"Lieutenant!" No'a blurted in surprised concern.  

Groaning, Kath gripped her side and felt the blood that had been slowly oozing from her wound. Well, that couldn't be good. No time to worry about that because--

"Taer, Kar, Nuke! On your right!" she shouted then as she watched two Jem'Hadar uncloak near the pyramid. They had all been so damn distracted by the survivor retrieval-- 

Kath's rifle, luckily not damaged from when she had landed on it, was pulled from its spot on her back and she fired as two more of the scaley Dominion slaves uncloaked to her left. It was a good thing there was no kickback because her side was drenched in blood, she had had no time to try to give first aid to herself and she had been too concerned about everyone else anyway. Like always. 

козаки́к=Cossack in Ukrainian. Cossack being an ethnic group found predominantly in Ukraine. They were also, fun fact, put into service for the defense of the Free City of Hamburg. ʕʘ‿ʘʔ

Re: [2374] USS Hamburg: Meditate on the Way of the Targ

Reply #9 –
[PO3 Kino Taer | J’rovia Reclusiam | Ruins of the Main Librarius | 2374] Attn: @JacenSoloDjo

The first time someone tried to kill her, shock and hesitation had very nearly cost Kino her life. Later, that realization left her numb; the fact that her young body was forced to act in lieu of a brain that was unable to process what had happened. It all seemed…surreal, like something that happened to someone else. That feeling lingered for days, maybe weeks after, like a splinter in her mind; something easily overlooked in the face of life's mundanity, but never truly forgotten. In the years since, with every brawl, every spar, every drill – that shock, that hesitation – was beaten out, blow by blow, mistake by mistake. No one could banish it completely; survival instincts could only be honed – training alone would only take one so far. Experience – the most ruthless and merciless educator of all – had filled in the blanks, but only with time, and only to those poor souls chosen to survive.

For all her faults, which there were many, Kino had always been a survivor. However, only a single glance at her surroundings told her everything she needed to know about their chances of getting out in one piece. She kept walking anyway, rifle up, trying to navigate through the dense fog of dust without tripping. Rubble crunched underfoot, while the distant hum of ship drives passed overhead, somewhere above the caul. Whatever they were doing, she hoped it didn’t involve tracking them for another salvo; there’d be nothing left of any of them to identify. Once she moved close enough to the smoldering crater that had been the library and former makeshift TOC, the non-com crouched and pulled the tricorder from her hip, attempting to scan for life-signs. It was a long shot, but there could still be someone left, buried or not. She owed it to them to try, regardless how anyone felt – they were her team mates. They’d have done the same thing, if fate had been reversed.

Her hand trembled. A wave of nausea hit suddenly; balance wavered, vision swam. If it wasn’t for the adrenaline, Kino doubted she’d be able to function at all – they were all lucky, likely concussed – but lucky regardless. The tricorder, balanced in her left hand near the barrel grip of her rifle, bleeped a mournful dirge. Kino’s light blue eyes narrowed at it as her jaw clenched, then turned at the approach of two of MacFarlane’s officers.

“Negative life signs,” Kino reported stiffly, stowing the ‘corder back in its pouch. “You find the rest of your guys,” she asked the Vulcan, Karatek, who simply nodded curtly in response. He was covered in dust, like they all were – save for his surprisingly emotive blue eyes. Kino felt judged under them, so looked away.

“We have wounded,” the Klingon, Newcrotch, growled, “but a closer scan might yet reveal survivors. I see a path, there,” she pointed, “down into defilade. I’ll take point, you two on over watch. Tricorder,” she held out a hand for Kino’s device.

Taer frowned at the idea and the gruff authority in the Klingon’s tone. There was no telling how unstable the rubble was, or what was left of the pyramids hidden vaults and catacombs beneath; a single misstep could cause a collapse, or sinkhole, or worse. Kino shook her head, knowing it wasn’t worth the risk; she’d just ran a sweep at less than a hundred meters. “All due respect, LT, that’s –“ Kino started, just as a shouted warning from MacFarlane preempted all hell breaking loose.

Kino spun where she crouched as bolts of white-purple energy impacted all around her; skin burned with ricochets of super-heated micro-pebbles that dug into her neck, face and arm. She fired back, sighting in on the pockets of voided turbulence in the dust – ghostly shapes of Jem’Hadar beyond the two that had sprung the ambush from cover. “Contact right, thirty meters and closing,” the non-com roared over the exchanging weapons fire, aiming to suppress.

They had to get out of the kill-box; it was the most basic, tried and true option – the only way to survive. Kino knew it and acted without hesitation; the only way out was to fight through it. Once Newcrotch and Karatek found cover and opened up, Kino reached for one of three grenades she had left, primed it, and heaved it in one fluid motion.

Soon as it blew, she was up and firing, rifle tucked tight to her shoulder, eyes narrowed in focus. The blast sent two sprawling; half their bodies reduced to blackened meat. Four more de-cloaked, stumbled, shaking off the concussion. A phaser blast struck one in the chest, then through its throat – a spray of white vicious fluid from its mouth splattering the Jem behind – so Kino dropped that one next with two to the chest. The rest rallied then, weapons raised or fired from the hip. Kino kept walking, firing on full auto – then spun down into cover to pop her depleted power pack.

“Peel left, take their flank,” Newcrotch roared at her, “covering fire,” she added to the Vulcan. Kino watched as both stood from cover nearly simultaneously and opened up. She moved a heartbeat later, and ran at a dead sprint through the dust-fog. The Jems were caught in a fatal funnel between two collapsed walls; Kino fired a hole through one and charged through. While the Vulcan and Klingon’s fire pinned them in place from the front, the non-com hugged the collapsed rubble as she began to pick the Jems off one by one.

Four left. Fire. Three. Fire. Something huge crashed through the rubble just ahead of her position, blinding her view, then knocked into her; it was massive, scaled, and moved like a grey-brown blur. Kino’s rifle was slapped aside, nearly knocked from her grip; then she was choking – a pressure, vice-like, was latched around her throat – and was lifting her up. She felt every vertebrae in her neck and back pop with the motion.

Instinct kicked in – even as her vision grayed.

One hand went for the knife sheathed at her back, the other dropped her rifle to claw blindly at her attacker’s face. A thumb found an eye socket, and gouged, while the other drove the blade down into the arm that held her. Stab, stab, stab; over and over – until the pressure ceased. She fell, coughing, gasping, kicking out blindly while something grunted in pain. A hand fumbled around for her rifle, found it. Taer half-rolled, brought it up to her shoulder, rolled back, leveled and fired; the Jem collapsed to his knees, then keeled over – three holes burned through his chest.
 
“Fuck you,” the Trill croaked as she struggled to get up, “tell your friends, too.” Everything hurt, and she spit out a mouthful of blood, groaned, then got to her knees, panting for air. Warm fluid flowed from a clogged nose; which sat at a weird angle in her watering vision. Weapons fire barked. The Trill’s eyes and head snapped up as Newcrotch stormed into view, over the bodies of the Jem’Hadar that had started the ambush.

“Regroup on the LT, now,” Kino heard her yell.

The non-com spat another wad of blood and moved without a word, back the way she’d come. On the other side of the wall, the wind gusted just enough for her take in the situation; MacFarlane under fire, pinned behind cover – someone at her feet – while another seemed to be busy tending to what was left of the device they’d deployed earlier. Newcrotch and Karatek bounded for the LT, moving as a team; Taer couldn’t tell if they saw what she saw, or were just determined to rally on their CO. Orders aside, she still had her own initiative and went with her gut: Kino ran for the device, slowing only to fire at the handful of Jems threatening to outflank them.

Seconds later, Kino slid into cover, a handful of paces away from the device and another human, whose name she couldn’t remember right then to save her life. “Picked a shitty spot for a picnic,” Taer yelled to get her attention, then flicked two sets of four fingers and pointed to the right. “We stay here, we’re fucked,” she announced, tactful as ever, but added her fire into the mix regardless. “Now would be a great time to un-ass this AO!”

Re: [2374] USS Hamburg: Meditate on the Way of the Targ

Reply #10 –
J'Rovia Reclusiam | 2374 | Rubble Attn @Dumedion‍   

Post-Traumatic Stress on the plus side was not triggered as Kath fired her rifle, using part of her body to cover the still recovering Bajoran. There was only so much wall and accompanying rubble to protect either Starfleet officer. There might be something to be said for Kath's instinct to use her own body to shield another. That was the whole reason her hip was in the situation it was in from only a few years previous. She was absolutely not looking forward to further physical therapy and the concurrent psychiatric care. Perhaps she would be lucky. Perhaps not. Remained to be seen as she shot the legs out from one of the Jem'Hadar. And then swiveled despite the pain that made her snarl in order to pick off another that decloaked as if to immediately replace his compatriot. 

Her head swam with the pain and blood loss. But her determination kept her going. Stubborn as a fucking mule, as the saying (kind of) went. She was responsible for every single non-Jem on this planet, after all, and she took that as serious as anything else in her life and always would. 

A third Jem'Hadar appeared almost right on top of Kath and she slammed her still good leg upward and kicked what she considered to be his groin, flinging him backward. She fired after the Jem's flailing body. Then her gaze flicked down to No'a, checking on them before her attention was taken by Adelaide and then a vague silver-haired blur that joined the Chief. Before Kath could try to struggle back to her feet as she saw more Jem'Hadar closing in, she watched as Karatek launched through the air-- of his own power at least rather than being thrown. 

Kath grabbed up the K-Bar that had saved her life and unit back during the Federation-Cardassian war from her hip and flung it through the air. Karatek, as if psychic, grabbed it out of the air and used it to puncture the equivalent of a jugular on another Jem. They had trained hard, though of course no two battles were the same. Kath then scrabbled at her ankle and removed the phaser kept in the holster there then handed it over to No'a. NuQach, with the same grace as wielding a bat'leth, used her rifle to nearly decapitate another Jem with a heavy swing of the butt of the rifle. Each step NuQach and Karatek made was to get ever closer to Kath and No'a. 

Adelaide glanced over at Kino just as two wires were fused back together. 

"We don't fix this, we're just as screwed," Adelaide replied. She ducked her head as the Jem'Hadar fired towards them. She had only been able to drag the IR light towards a low-lying pile of rubble which granted her less than desired cover.

With a grunt, Kath climbed to her feet by grabbing the wall. When Karatek got close enough, he handed back the K-Bar. Kath put it back in its sheath then half-limped forward now that she had the rest of her unit on either side of her to march towards Adelaide and Kino. Her rifle lanced out a stream of light, taking out one of the Jems in position to take out Kino. As Kath half-fell, half-slid to their position, she could feel her ribs disagreeing with the whole situation. 

<Send out that SOS, now!> Kath ordered, her gaze flicking to the IR lamp. 

<Trying, L.T., I promise,> Adelaide said, swapping to her tricorder to check the rest of the wiring. 

Kath glanced at Kino, brown eyes taking in the splashes of Jem blood mixed with Trill. "Still in one piece over there, Petty Officer?" she asked, her tone a mix of serious and levity and her actual voice sounding gravelly from a mix of yelling orders and the pain spiking through her. The question was perhaps made all the more striking by the fact that Kath herself decidedly wasn't.

But it did not stop the Lieutenant from bringing her rifle up and sighting quickly to take out yet another Jem'Hadar. 

"Karatek, go back to No'a. We'll cover Adelaide," Kath ordered, her gaze on the IR lamp as Adelaide fused together another connection. After checking the tricorder again, Adelaide's thumb triggered the switch. She had to hold it thanks to the thing losing its base for freestanding but at the moment none of them cared about that part because at least it seemed to be working again. Karatek walked off, keeping low, as ordered.

Meanwhile, NuQach glanced at her friend and frowned, noticing the paleness of the human's face and the splash of red blood on Kath's hand that absolutely did not come from anyone else except her, the gash in her side still weeping blood without any impediment to it. Crouching down, one hand moved to push up the hem of the uniform jacket to see the punctured skin. NuQach rummaged in Adelaide's pack which luckily was nearby and had not sustained further damage. She soon found the synthetic dermal patches inside and opened the box. Removing one, her fingers moved quickly to unwrap it and then all but slapped it against the wound in Kath's side. Instead of a scream, Kath made a high pitched whine noise. A gentle healer, NuQach was not. 

"No one else dies," NuQach rumbled out. Kath nodded in agreement. "How's No'a?"

Kath glanced over at Karatek and No'a. They were not being harried as much as the small group huddled around the IR lamp. That was good. There was really only one Kath and she could not teleport. (But imagine if she could?)

"They... Their non-dominant hand is broken in multiple places but they'll survive," Kath answered. The other hand worked just fine, which was why Kath had armed them with her backup phaser pistol. 

Kath closed her eyes and thought about next steps. They had no idea if the Jem'hadar fighters were going to come back. Or how long it would take the Hamburg to get the message and bring them onboard. Her eyes opened then she glanced at Kino. 

"You've been stuck here a while, where's a more defensible position until the Hamburg can transport us back up?" she asked the Trill.

Re: [2374] USS Hamburg: Meditate on the Way of the Targ

Reply #11 –
[PO3 Kino Taer | J’rovia Reclusiam | Ruins of the Main Librarius | 2374] Attn: @JacenSoloDjo

Bolts of polaron energy snapped overhead, while others impacted close enough to shower her in sparks. Kino lay on her side, ass pressed into the small rubble wall of makeshift cover and grunted a curse before lifting her rifle up to fire blind, hoping to suppress the Jems back into cover. Her ears picked up the LT’s arrival, but couldn’t spare a glance just then; not until her pack ran dry. The non-com did note the obvious pain in the woman’s voice, poorly hidden behind humor; a valiant attempt – one Taer appreciated, all things considered.

Might be hope for her yet, the Trill thought with a twitch of her bloody lips while she swapped out her rifle’s power pack; the snort offered in reply only forced her to gag and choke on the blood from her broken nose, however. Kino spat out a wad of it, then sat up, rifle braced, searching for targets. “So far, so good,” Taer answered in a slurred deadpan, her voice just as gravely; coarse from yelling and breathing dust, not to mention nearly getting throttled to death.

The Jems had either cloaked or fallen back, Kino couldn’t tell, but the sporadic fire had trickled to nothing; her rifle and gaze stayed out, searching, while the others conversed. Somebody squealed out in pain; field dressing, Taer figured, wincing in sympathy. She took a second to pat herself down, looking for blood; somehow, she hadn’t been hit – not yet, anyway – but she knew there’d be pain enough in store for all of them regardless. She repeated the process for a quick equipment check next, then stole a hurried glance at the LT’s question.

Anywhere but here, was Taer’s instinctive, barbed reply, but the Trill’s jaw clenched tight instead; a rare moment of self-control, while she thought it through. The hell’s left? The TOC’s a hole, OPs are gone, her eyes darted around the makeshift perimeter they’d created, thinking. Old coms tower? she guessed, turning her head over a shoulder to look. It was busted and broken before, now it was barely visible at all, over on the other side of the gaping hole where the TOC once stood. If they could reach it, it might work – if it was still there.

“Was a,” Taer started, but another coughing fit took over; she spat more bloody spit to clear her mouth out, a knee drawn up underneath to steady her position. A sharp twinge of pain flared in her chest; bruised or cracked ribs, maybe. “Comms tower, my six o’clock, ‘bout four hundred meters. Was a rally point, but it might be rubble for all I know. You’d have to skirt along the crater to get there – through the ruins. Gonna be close work,” Kino warned; not thrilled with the idea, but the situation was what it was. They had to move. “Jems are probably crawlin’ all over lookin’ for us now.”

Gotta be a better option, Kino shook her head. It was getting harder to think. Adrenaline could only do so much, and only lasted so long; as the lull continued, the non-com felt the aches and numbing pain creep in.

“Or,” the non-com added, “y’make for LZ Mortalis; we used it t'lift bodies out b’fore w’lost contact w’the Novo. Due west of the complex,” her hand pointed in a knife edge, “‘bout 800 meters out, built on a hill – only one in the valley, can’t miss it – but the tunnels are likely non-vi, so you’d haveta hump it out in th’ open,” her eyes flicked to the LTs, one clear, the other bloodshot and bruised. “It’s an elevated position, one way up. Y’don’t look like you’re in th’ mood for a run, though – matter of fact, y’look like shit,” she tried to laugh, but grimaced at the attempt.

Something sharp was digging into her hip, which forced Kino to shift her attention. A hand reached down, expecting to find a rock, but dug up half a compacted repulsor-stretcher instead. The handheld device was charred black, but looked to be functional. Kino tossed it to MacFarlane, ignoring the wet, dirt caked blood on the LTs flank. Worst case, the others could move faster with Mac on it than dragging the LT – best case, Mac could use it as an improvised crutch under her own power, if she was that stupid and stubborn. Taer gave it 50/50.

“Call it quick LT, we’re burnin’ daylight,” Kino nodded to her, winced, then resumed over-watch, rifle up and panning for threats. “I’ll stay back an’ cover y’ guys. Long as I can.”

[Meanwhile, in orbit…]

Veyat Three gripped the console before him as the ship shook under another assault. He was quickly loosing his patience. “Why isn’t that ship destroyed,” he demanded calmly. “I fail to understand – were my orders somehow unclear,” he sighed, turning purple-hued eyes upon his First.

“The enemy’s defenses are holding, sir. It is a Galaxy-class cruiser, more than a match for two attackers,” the First responded neutrally.

“We have three ships, do we not,” Veyat’s eyes narrowed at his own rhetorical question. “Recall the third, immediately.”

“Sir, our ground forces –“

“Are expendable. We have ample supply lines in place and can always breed more reinforcements,” Veyat smiled coldly. “I want that ship destroyed, now. Once that task is completed, we will continue to retrieve any troops that remain alive on the surface,” the Vorta moved calmly to stand right in front of the massive Jem’Hadar, to peer up into its eyes with contempt. “And when I report to the Founders, I might omit your unorthodox behavior,” he warned, “so long as we understand each other.”

“Understood, sir,” the First closed his scaly eyes, head bowed respectfully.

“Good,” Veyat Three smiled pleasantly, “very good. Such harmony is but one of their gifts,” he exhaled, then took a step back to return to his station, features blanked as if the happiness and joy he’d just expressed had never existed at all. “Now we shall teach it to our foes - crush them.”

Through the tactical headset, the Vorta watched as his ships swarmed and ravaged their larger prey. The Federation vessel’s shields lit up under the multi-angled assault, rolling in an attempt to track the far more agile hunters. Lances of burning energy streamed out, striking one, only for it to come under fire from the other. Veyat smiled confidently as he watched the third attack ship rise up from the dusty atmosphere to join the fray, adding its own fire into the engagement a moment later. Even as the hulk fought for its life, it was only a matter of time before it grew too wounded and too exhausted. It’s corpse would slowly fall, weeks or months dead, to burn up over the worthless world it failed to protect; just another sad lesson for a sad, savage people.

A pity, Veyat mused, but, such sacrifices must be made. “We will make an example of them,” he lifted his chin proudly. “Once their defenses are crippled, concentrate fire on life support and living quarters, while the other ships focus on critical systems.  Let them bleed to death while we burn them from the stars. Perhaps others will learn from their folly,” the Vorta shrugged in doubt, but in truth, he couldn't be bothered to care either way.

Re: [2374] USS Hamburg: Meditate on the Way of the Targ

Reply #12 –
USS Hamburg | 2374 | A few days ago... Attn: @Dumedion‍

"No, Papi, I really don't get why you're wanting to pull me off my posting," Kath said, trying to rein in the frustration in her voice. War, war, war. Too many conversations of 'no, Papi, we aren't going to repeat the F-C War. I never said don't tell mami where I'm going'.

Pinching the bridge of her nose, Kath inhaled slowly and then let it out before glaring at the video of her father, sitting 'pretty' back on Earth, in San Francisco to be exact. But at no point would Kath say that she hated that her father was out of danger and she was on the front lines of the Dominion War. And yes, he was proud, that wasn't the issue. Yes, he believed in her ability to bug the fuck out and keep out of trouble. She had spent years learning how to melt away into nothing when danger came down on her head.

"You could come back to the core worlds--" Alec MacFarlane said. Every word he spoke made the light glint off his Captain pips.

"No!" Kath snapped. And she almost ended the comm call there. But her anger retreated as quickly as it had appeared. She would not abandon her crewmates. She had her own squad. She would not leave them because she had the privilege of having a high ranking father. "I will be fine. You have to let me fight the war where and when I want."

And she almost, almost admitted to her time in Starfleet Intelligence. But instead she waited for his usual 'of course you will be fine, you're a MacFarlane' and then overly polite goodbyes.


Starfleet HQ | 2374 | Now

"We're getting reports from a comm buoy that the Hamburg has run into the same trouble as the last ship sent to the area. Good news, not incommunicado because of enemy jamming. Bad news, it's system based. As soon as anyone gets into the system comms break down. Further reports are of the Dominion troops in the area. The Hamburg is a good ship, but she can't keep going at the enemy the way she is," Vice Admiral Dagmar reported, directly in Alec's earshot. The elder MacFarlane turned pale, making him whiter than he already was despite the San Francisco sun. They all knew comm buoys were only deployed like this if the originating ship had run into trouble of the enemy troop variety. "Send the Colorado."


J'Rovia Reclusiam | "" | ""

Kath suppressed the natural elder sibling instinct to reach out towards Taer and actually look the Trill over personally. An instinct that did not care she had been born an only child and continued as such until her cousin became her de facto younger sibling. Instead she gave a slight nod to the non-com. Then her gaze swung to Adelaide who was broadcasting the SOS in the only way that could actually get through to the ship above them. A ship that Kath had stopped being able to see in orbit. Which only meant one thing: The Jem'Hadar on the planet were being supported by the Dominion ships harrying their only chance to get off the stupid planet.

"Not in the mood for a schlep is putting it mildly," she stated, voice as dry as the deserts of Bajor, her torso complaining about her insistence on talking. But, of course, Kath would run it if she had to do it. Would literally carry her entire squad on her back if she had to; it was just who she was. She was expendable. Her crew was not. And so she bristled as Kino gave the fateful last stand dialogue everyone was familiar with from all the war-based holonovels. That was Kath's thing, thank you very much. Captains went down with the ship, commanding officers covered the retreat. It was on her that those under her command made it to safety.

"Fuck that," she was blurting before she could put the filter between her brain and her mouth. "In case you forgot, you're the mission. You're the reason we beamed down in the first place. Regardless of when my boots hit the ground, they're going to be the last ones off even if I have to drag you kicking and screaming to the EZ."

She wasn't one for speeches, she left that to the captains and the flag officers. So she didn't offer one now. But imagine swelling music anyway.

Her gaze flicked to the mess of metal that thumped to the ground just in front of her knee. She almost jokingly said 'rude' but honestly her heart wasn't in it and those kinds of jokes were better left for actually being in relative safety. Stifling a cringe the best she could, she reached out to pick the repulsor stretcher up before her gaze went in the direction of the 'high ground'. Starships that could reach atmo often made high ground a poor option. But it would give them a good view of the surrounding area and a clear shot for the IR. All they had to do was hold out until the shields could be dropped to allow transport.

"Everyone left here might outrank you but you've got the layout in your head. No'a is almost useless with just the one hand still working but they've got my backup pistol. You want off this rock? Get my squad to a defensive position. So listen to me: get to the LZ and keep the IR going on a cycle so the Hamburg knows exactly where we moved to."

She left it unsaid that she would likely slow everyone the hell down anyway. But she had full intentions on just watching everyone's sixes while charging in the opposite direction (retreat was not an option). She also left it unsaid she would kick the ass of anyone who argued with her plan.

Then she tossed one of her many spare battery packs to Kino, a brow raising.


USS Hamburg | "" | ""

"Sir, the signal went down. Scanners have picked up nothing coming into the system. What are we supposed to do?" Comms called out.

They all flinched as the entire ship rocked and sent numerous crew sprawling onto the floor throughout the various decks. Sparks jolted out from one of the computer consoles on the bridge. An alert came to life on the conn.

"We're losing thrusters, Sir!" Helm reported.

"Whip around the planet while we still have the power to do it." The hope was it would be unexpected enough to give them an advantage. The option of going to warp was always there. But there was an abject refusal on the part of every person on the Hamburg; they weren't going to flee and leave their own down on the planet to fend for themselves.

Almost everyone held their breath as the Galaxy-class roared forward and completely out of range of the officers on the ground.


J'Rovia Reclusiam | "" | ""

"Go, Petty Officer Taer," Kath said, checking the battery pack on her rifle and brushing some caked debris off of the scope. She pointedly ignored the blood dried on her own hand. The great thing about her dossier was being hurt in battle didn't effect her aim.

The lack of further Jem'Hadar could lull one into a false sense of security. But that would never be Kath. Instead, she surged to her feet and stumbled forward a little until NuQach caught her by the elbow. Then a large Klingon arm wrapped around her waist.

"Really inspiring, but today is not a good day to die. Not here," NuQach rumbled when Kath peered up at the Klingon hybrid. Kath would laugh if she didn't think it would completely piss off her already very cranky torso.

"Don't worry about it. I've been hurt worse than this and still made it to the extraction," Kath said. Adelaide picked up the repulsor stretcher and Kath pushed her rifle over her shoulder and let it hang from its strap on her back. Then Kath took the stretcher from the other woman and looked it over more closely.

"Get going. I'll be a few paces behind," she repeated, firmly, then, loudly over her shoulder, "Karatek, No'a, time to move!"

The Lieutenant couldn't help but look at No'a's mangled hand again then glanced around the immediate area. Still no Jem'Hadar. But that could change in an instant. They needed to take advantage of the silence and emptiness.

NuQach reluctantly pulled away. Kath gave a smile and a nod. She gave them all a headstart before beginning to walk after them. She pulled her rifle back into her arms just in case while using the good side of the stretcher to give her abused hip a break. She would absolutely be getting off the planet mostly under her own power.

Re: [2374] USS Hamburg: Meditate on the Way of the Targ

Reply #13 –
[PO3 Kino Taer | J’rovia Reclusiam | Ruins of the Main Librarius | 2374] Attn: @JacenSoloDjo

The fuck? Kino’s brows creased in anger as she caught the spare power pack, stowed it, then pivoted to face MacFarlane fully, mouth already opening to give the idiot a piece of her mind, who was looking at her with a brow raised as if she was just asking for it.

Taer didn’t need the invitation; her entire team was just wiped out. She'd seen enough death and misery in the last 12 hours alone to last a lifetime. Now everything was on her? Kino was the reason MacFarlane and her people were there, getting tore up?! No, Taer wouldn't cosign that mess.

Nah, fuck you, and fuck your mission.

“You listen – I didn’t ask for this shit,” Kino spat back. “I didn’t ask to get stuck here, an’ I sure as hell didn’t ask for you and your squad of fuckin’ cheerleader try-hards to come down here – so you can take that bullshit and shove it up your ass, sir. Look around! Your mission is fucked – everyone you came to save is fucking dead.”

“That’s enough –,” the Klingon tried to interrupt, but Kino ignored her and kept talking, cold fury laced in every word.

“I’m trying to get us all off this fucking rock! Who here knows how to count? Six,” she held up her fingers for emphasis, “minus two wounded, equals four. Two to cover each. If we run for the LZ, they’ll follow us, and fucking kill us – unless someone stays back to kill them.”

“That is enough,” NuQach bellowed, “you were given an order, Petty Officer,” she took a step at Kino.

“Yeah a fuckin’ stupid one, thanks,” Taer sneered and got to her feet, wobbled briefly, then looked at all of them in challenge. “What, you clowns forget how to think for yourselves? Trade them specks of gold on your collars in for brains? Look at her,” the Trill threw a hand out to MacFarlane. “She can barely fuckin –“

Kino never saw the blow coming, but she sure as hell felt it. The world rung, and the left side of her face erupted in pain. She found herself driven to a knee, unable to do much but grunt in agony for several long seconds. “Y’motherfu-,” Taer groaned.

“You are a disgrace to that uniform,” the Klingon’s voice growled down at her.

Taer spat a wad of blood to clear her mouth; a molar came out with it. “Yeah, heard tha' b'fore. Never wanted the fuckin' thing anyway,” she laughed without any trace of humor, then got to her feet with a bloody smirk. “Nice shot. Try it again when I can see it comin', fuckin’ coward.”

NuQach glared at her, murderous.

MacFarlane spoke up then, and Kino just snorted.

Saved by the bell.

“Fine. Be seein’ you,” the Trill nodded to the Klingon, then stalked around her to set off to the LZ without a backwards glance. If they made it out, she’d settle up with Newcrotch then. If not, then it wouldn’t fucking matter – just like everyone else that was left to rot there.

Taer shouldered her rifle and walked away into the dust, far enough to stay in visual range, then crouched and wait while they got their shit together. Her jaw clicked every time she moved it; but at least it wasn’t broken. Gonna feel that tomorrow, Taer fumed, then blew some dust out of her sights. Fuck this planet. Fuck all of it, she ripped the combadge off her torn and dirt caked uniform.

Enough was enough. She’d rather rot in a cell on Trill than listen to another fucking idiot bark orders at her – indoctrinated fucking sheep – hell bent on killing themselves and everyone beneath them for a flag, an ideal; a system they were too blind to see was just as corrupt as the one they fought against.

Fuck it.

Taer moved out. She’d get them to the LZ. She’d fight to get them there, and get them off this shithole. But after? Well…

I’m done taking orders.

She tossed the badge away.

[Later…|Reclusiam Perimeter Wall]

Taer scrambled up the blown-out ramp of rubble that was once the outer perimeter wall of the complex. Beyond, the harsh red light of the red giant painted the desert in a heat simmered glare of desolation; pink rock, rose sand. The hill, it’s pinnacle carved flat, laid in view; almost a kilometer out, probably half that tall. Kino waited for the others to catch up, eyes scoured for movement.

She was drenched in sweat already. The run to the LZ was going to cost them; some more than others.

Her head turned to glance at the sound of shuffled footsteps. The Vulcan, supporting the injured Bajoran. The others came up behind shortly after.

Taer lifted her chin to the hill.

“There’s our exit,” she deadpanned flatly, refusing eye contact with any of them while they made ready for the run.

Re: [2374] USS Hamburg: Meditate on the Way of the Targ

Reply #14 –
J'rovia Reclusiam | 2374 | Attn: @Dumedion‍ 

Kath closed her eyes and felt her entire body go numb. Not numb that she could not stand anymore. But numb because she was tired of trying to do the right thing. Tired of the fact she was wounded and could not be the 'Eternal Soldier' that she was. Tired that the war kept trundling on and she had her father all but begging her to bug out. To go back to fucking Earth where she would be 'safe'. Hah. There were fucking Changelings in the Alpha and Beta Quadrants. How exactly was Earth safer than where she was getting sent into? Her place was in the field. Her selfless nature had ensured she had numerous scars and war stories. Her hip would not be in the condition it was in if she wasn't the kind of person who put herself directly and purposely in harm's way.

Opening her eyes, Kath watched as the taller Lieutenant laid into Taer like Kath's glare had threatened she would do if she heard more arguments, but Kath did not move to stop her. And a little voice inside her said Taer would probably find fault with trying to save her from getting creamed by the loyal, protective Klingon hybrid, too. Taer had fucked around and then found out what happens when you're insubordinate around the squad. How in the hell had all of her attempts to be friendly, to try to keep morale up, led to all of this? But then, there was nothing to be done was there if someone was just determined to find fault with everything you did? Kath was not responsible for how someone reacted to her words, only how she herself spoke and responded to people.

"Nuke!" Adelaide shouted then instead, yanking the larger Klingon hybrid backward out of range of going after the Trill again even though NuQach outranked her by a lot. Kath grabbed the back of NuQach's tactical vest, pulling her further backward to create more of a gap between the Petty Officer and the Klingon hybrid.

"You're the one with fucking stupid ideas," No'a finally and suddenly burst out. They had had enough. Kath watched, shock registering through her system. NuQach looked as startled as her Klingon features would allow her. Adelaide's mouth was partially open. Karatek stared, almost in abject horror that No'a had actually swore.

"It isn't our fault you don't have the social intelligence, the discipline, the fucking decency to understand when people are trying to help you and be grateful for it. You're alive. You're alive because every single Jem'Hadar that had you in their sights was shot down. By us. Even though clearly you don't deserve it. You really wanna be 'nobody', ksil? Forget to count yourself in who is left to save, huh? You stay behind and then what? You get cut off from the rest of us? And die when we are here especially and only to get you off this planet, like Mac said? Making all of our sacrifices be in vain which is the real stupid idea! You're so damn preoccupied with 'everyone who outranks me is an idiot'! But at least, oh at least you can die knowing you threw everything into everyone else's face no matter how hard they tried to help you! Even, damn, to be nice to you despite how little you even deserved it! All any of us has done since we got here was try to be friendly and to keep you alive but all you've been wanting to do is treat us like shit for daring to care what happens to you. An attitude that would never fly if we weren't in the middle of retreating!"

The senior Lieutenant was surprised by No'a's passionate response. She reached out to grab their good arm but No'a pulled away, their gaze still on Kino.

"You wanna know what half of us 'try hards' have been thinking about this whole time? How it wouldn't even matter if we went back while leaving you behind and shrugged, saying every single person down here, including one Petty Officer Taer, had died. Because we're known for being able to scrape by with at least a Pyrrhic Victory, they would believe that we tried everything and ended up failing. And you'd rather sit here and sulk and make everyone around you wonder how you even survived basic training because you have zero cooperation skills and zero respect for anyone or anything. You don't have to like us. You don't have to like our CO. But what you do have to do? Is fucking understand that being Starfleet means people actually do care about what happens to you even when they should just leave you by yourself to eventually get killed, surrounded by dead bodies, with not a single soul to watch your last moments. What Mac was trying to tell you was that you are just as important as anyone else was down here. You don't want the uniform? Too bad. You're in it and that makes you Starfleet which means you're going to be treated like any other person in Starfleet whether you like it or not. But all you've cared about this whole time is apparently figuring out how insufferable you can be until we just leave your ass behind and call you a casualty that couldn't be helped, even though we can't do that because that isn't how we operate!"

"No'a--" Karatek started but No'a shook their head, their jaw set.

A scoff from No'a then, cradling their mangled hand to their chest. They could feel tears pricking their eyes because they understood what Kath was implying, understood that Kath had given Kino one of her very last battery packs because at least someone would still be alive to use it. Kath's possible last acts were devoted to giving everyone else the best chance to survive.

"We thought maybe you were like this because of survivor's guilt, or some other trauma. So Mac and NuQach gave you a lot of leeway, because hey, sometimes people can't help it if it's just their trauma response. But that can't be it. Your shitty personality is simply you all the way down. So you got a lot of leeway you never deserved in the first place. You go ahead and bite your nose to spite your face. You continue being the ungrateful little snot that you are. It's a sick cosmic joke you're the one to survive for this long, isn't it? You don't get it, do you? The Lieutenant was saying she wanted to go last because she knows she will slow the rest of us down and would rather be the one sacrificed," No'a's voice broke then as their throat grew tight.

"She was doing triage and she lost but you won even though you don't deserve it. But you're too Prophets-damn self-absorbed in your pity party to get that she was offering to possibly die in your place! She essentially put you in charge of the rest of us, despite not even deserving to be in command of the cleaning bots on a ship, because she doesn't know the area; but you do. And she isn't sure if she will even be able to keep up with us. She chose the option that she did even though it gives her a lousy survival rate because it gives us more of one. It isn't a stupid order, it's a lethal one; for her! Mac's fucking implacable and that's why she gets the hard ass missions and drags us along with her. And you wanna know why we follow her? We stay with her because we know she cares far more about us than herself, unlike a lot of commanding officers who just fling their troops wherever and don't care how many of them die so long as the objective is achieved. Instead she will fling herself at the enemy to give the people under her command a chance, however slim, to get to safety. Which is what she was telling you she was going to do; that's why she told you to start moving! If the spot she chose were to get overrun, then at least we would have you to tell us where we could possibly go next and then get us there. But that can't happen if you swap places! She has to cover the retreat herself."

As No'a finally finished, they stood there breathing hard. Their mangled hand throbbed but they ignored it. Adjusting the 'holdout' phaser from Kath in their good hand, No'a growled and started to set off. Kath, NuQach, Karatek, and Adelaide were all staring after the Bajoran. None of the squad was sure they had ever heard No'a speak that much at once and sound so damn angry. Perhaps because they were defending their Commanding Officer-- The Lieutenant who was already feeling lousy because she had gotten wounded and was now more of a liability than anything else. And if, oh if things went in one direction, her boots would be the last off the ground not on purpose but because she had lagged and her squad's loyalty to following her orders sometimes transcended their loyalty to Kath as a person, as their friend.

"If it were me, I would've never asked you for next steps," NuQach growled before following after No'a.

"Enough. Lieutenant NuQach, Petty Officer Taer, you're both going on report. Ensign Asher, I appreciate the defense but you will not speak that way again," Kath said sharply, coming back to herself as the surprise over No'a's outburst faded. "Let's just get to the extraction point with as little bickering as possible."

"Yes, Sir," she heard both NuQach and No'a mutter, pausing to look over at their CO.

Kath had completely stopped trying to play nice. All she was focused on now was getting everyone off this God forsaken rock and go to a battle that actually mattered and wasn't fucked because of communication issues. Or, indeed, dealing with people less than glad for the assist.

"Surprise all of us by being at least a little more pleasant until we get back to the ship, huh, Petty Officer Rebel Without a Cause?" Adelaide warned as she moved after No'a and NuQach, cradling the IR light in her arms.

"Chief," Kath said in a low voice. Adelaide shrugged at being brought up for her own comment.

They all knew the after action report was going to be brutal. It remained to be seen just how brutal it would be and who would have to be listed down as a casualty. The whole squad was worried their commanding officer would be on that list and it reflected in their eyes. They all knew every mission it was Kath not so much playing hero but just making sure her subordinates made it through to the other side of things.

Adjusting the stretcher under her arm, Kath waited for everyone to go ahead of her then brought up the rear as she had intended, holding her rifle one handed.

USS Hamburg

As the Galaxy-class performed a slingshot maneuver of sorts around the planet, her Captain was unsure how much time they actually had left. That was of course before they watched as a Constitution-class burst onto the scene, phasers all releasing at the same time towards the enemy Dominion ships, wounding one badly enough it fell towards the planet. The Colorado had all the intel fit to transmit. It used the rudimentary and rarely used kind of Morse code using the front lights on the ship usually used to see their way through debris or through any number of enclosed places in space such as a hollowed out asteroid.

Back and forth the two ships spoke to each other without having actual audio communication. It would, perhaps, make for an amazing story few would believe as together they enacted a plan. While the Colorado kept the now only two Dominion ships busy, the Hamburg would work at getting their people off the ground.

The Hamburg made a few circuits around the planet, looking for the signal, for the ground team's COMMbadges to show up. Where did the signal go? Where did the Starfleet crew go? Had they all been killed in the time it took to lead the Dominion on a chase?

Too Far Behind Everyone Else | 2374

Kath stumbled as she continued walking the best she could even with the support of the damaged repulsor stretcher. Sweat trickled down her face from the effort. Every other step sent pain searing through her body, originating from her hip and terminating a few inches below her neck. She could not say why that spot. Just that it hurt like hell. Kath's gaze rose to the distance, her mind drifting back to the last time she had sacrificed herself in order to save her squadmates. What was more wounds or even death when it meant five others would be safe? As the Vulcan saying went: the needs of the many.

She had fallen behind by a number of meters. Every time NuQach or Karatek had looked back at her, she had simply ordered them to keep going. Until eventually they stopped looking back.

She almost started thinking maybe they had killed all of the Jem'Hadar in the area. But that was before two of them uncloaked and one of them bashed the butt of his rifle into her collar bone. She stifled a cry of pain before slamming the barrel of her own rifle into the Jem's stomach and pulling the trigger. He barely made a sound before collapsing at her feet. The second one got a good hit on her too, swiping her legs out from under her with his gun and sending her crashing to the ground on her back. Face twisted into a snarl of both pain and anger, she swung her rifle around-- grateful for the strap she used for it so it did not go flying when she was knocked down-- and fired. One more down.

Rolling over despite the pain, Kath began to crawl before she could grab some debris that was sturdy enough to take her weight. Where had the damn repulsor stretcher gone? Oh, well. Dragging her bad leg along with her as she walked, she began the arduous climb up the hill. With luck, her unit had continued to follow orders.

A sudden bright light up above drew her attention. She watched as one of the Dominion ships entered the atmosphere but clearly not under its own power and began to peel apart like an orange. A soft, incredulous laugh escaped her. Finally, space support!


Extraction Zone/Former LZ | 2374

No'a dropped to the grass, panting from the effort of the almost marathon. Everyone except NuQach and Karatek showed their fatigue. NuQach was the first to begin looking around to find where Kath was. But there was no Lieutenant MacFarlane to be found. And then they all heard the phaser fire some distance down and away from where they were. They exchanged looks. Who would disobey orders first? Kath had told them don't look back, don't double back. Not for her. But... she was still their friend.

Adelaide looked away and instead busied herself with setting up the IR to begin broadcasting the SOS message again so the Hamburg could find them. As much as she wanted to go find her Lieutenant she had a job to do. She understood her part in the play.

A few moments later they all looked up to watch the defeated Dominion ship streak through the sky like an asteroid.

Still no Kath.


Still too far away | 2374

Kath found a good spot to sit and protect the bottom of the high ground she had sent everyone to. Her lungs were on fire and so were her hip and torso. Not to mention her back from landing on it thanks to that one Dominion slave.

Checking her rifle again for any issues, she bit back a moan of pain as it ran through her like a wave from head to toe and back again. She looked down at herself, at the spot that still burned in her gut. She wasn't bleeding out anymore but it still fucking stung. Her gaze snapped up when the ground half a foot to her left exploded and flung dirt and concrete over her. She fired as soon as she sighted the Jem'Hadar who had fired at her.

When two more appeared, she flung herself off the debris she was sitting on and crawled behind it even though her entire body disagreed with this plan. Sitting up, she used the debris as her cover as she fired at the stupid goddamn--

Her shoulder slammed backward from a bolt hitting the strap of the tactical vest she wore. She howled her anger and pain before firing back almost blind with pent-up fury. There was no way in hell she was getting taken out or her unit. She flicked a control on her phaser rifle then fired. The two Jem'Hadar transformed into nothing-- not even ash. It took a lot of power so she tried not to use that setting a lot. But now was as good a time as any, right?

Panting with the pain and effort, she climbed back up to her feet. That had to be the last of them. It had to be. But she could no longer stay here. So she began her trek further up. Her body screamed at her to stop but she ignored it. Nothing was taking her out of this fight. Not yet. Not here.

Extraction Zone

The sound of phaser fire was closer this time and it made Adelaide stop what she was doing to look off to where they all expected Kath to be cresting the hill. But no.

"I'm going to go find Mac--" Karatek said but NuQach cut him off with a glare, her arms folded across her chest.

"She'll be here," NuQach said firmly. Though there was an air of anxiety. After all, Kath was still her best friend on the ship. Every single one of them knew there were two outcomes here: Either Kath made it, or they went home without their leader.

Further, closer phaser fire made NuQach and Karatek yank their rifles up and aim below them. Waiting for the moment when it was revealed the wounded Lieutenant had been overrun by the Jem'Hadar.


Some meters outside the EZ

Kath's body was shutting down. She knew it and there was nothing she could do about it except keep going anyway. To get as close to the extraction zone as possible. Her COMMbadge would give her location away; so long as she was close enough to everyone else she could be found and transported up. That was the only thing keeping her going. Just a little bit further.

Was her shoulder broken? It would not be the first time. But still she crawled over everything on her way up. It wasn't good for her hip either. But still she dragged her almost-carcass along until she was hopefully spotted like that golden retriever at the end of that one movie from centuries ago.

OOC: Ksil=dumbass, Hebrew masquerading as Bajoran.

Re: [2374] USS Hamburg: Meditate on the Way of the Targ

Reply #15 –
[PO3 Kino Taer | Extraction Zone | J’rovia | 2374] Attn: @JacenSoloDjo 

Once they’d made the ascent, Kino set her rifle down on an empty cargo container and spent the next several seconds just trying to breathe. Her legs were jelly; everything hurt. Drenched in sweat, she fumbled with the zipper of her duty jacket and shrugged it off, desperate for some airflow; the kiss of the hot, gentle breeze of higher elevation was a blessing and a curse – but it was something. Once she was fairly certain she wasn’t going to pass out, Taer grimaced as her hands felt around her nose, braced, then reset it with a jerked motion; the crunch of bone and cartilage drowned out with a groan. A muffled curse followed as she wiped the worst of the blood and sweat from her head and face on her jacket, then slung the rifle over her chest to look around the platform.

It was carved stone blanketed in a carpet of dry grass; ancient, like all the other ruins. Crumbled pillars stood in each corner, three sides protected by sheer rock outcrops roughly three meters high. Various crates and boxes lay scattered about the perimeter. Kino busied herself by moving them to the entrance for use as a makeshift barricade. She doubted they’d do much as cover, but at least it gave her something to do while they waited. The temptation to respond to the Bajoran’s little speech was there the whole time, but Kino managed to swallow it down; if only to spare herself from another lecture.

Like it’d make a difference now anyway, Taer shook her head. The damage was done; words alone wouldn’t repair it, for either side. The truth was – as Kino saw it – there was no right course of action. She’d volunteered to stay back because she was one of the few of them that wasn’t wounded, that could move unhindered and hold the rear just long enough to buy them a few minutes at most before falling back; uninterested in glory, and certainly not interested in dying, she only wanted to give them all the best odds of getting out. It made the most sense, tactically, even if no one wanted to hear it.

But the pips words stung, regardless.

Kino hadn’t considered the fact that without her knowledge of the terrain, the group could have easily gotten lost, ambushed, or worse. She certainly didn’t consider anyone dying for her, either; not when other options existed. Hell, if she hadn’t gotten sucker-punched mid-sentence, maybe they would’ve understood that. In the end, it didn’t matter much what Kino thought though, because MacFarlane held rank, and apparently no one had ever had the stones to speak up in opposition. Taer couldn’t help but wonder how far that style of authoritative leadership would get the LT, before someone threw it back in her face.

As far as her attitude? Well…

People assumed a great deal about her, and Kino was no better. Assumption; the mother of all fuck ups. Yes, they’d all made plenty of those already, but Taer didn’t owe any of them an explanation; she was who she was, and if that hurt their precious feelings, then oh well. Once they got extracted, there’d be the dog-and-pony show waiting: the ass-chewing, the finger-pointing, and eventually, a price to pay. Kino could practically hear them laying it all on her already.

So fuckin’ be it.

The Bajoran thought Kino was lost in her own pity; the Trill almost laughed at that. Almost. The truth was Taer simply didn’t care what happened to her anymore – she was fucked either way – but they deserved a chance to get out and carry on, chests shining with all the medals won with heroic deeds, no doubt. Kino wanted no part in it. She was no hero; she fought because she was good at it and for the people next to her, even if they couldn’t stand her. Feelings didn’t mean shit under fire.

And yet...

Kino glanced at the others: the Chief, setting up the comms signal, aided by the one-handed Bajoran – the Klingon and Vulcan. The latter exchanged words where they stood, waiting. Taer shook her head again but kept her own counsel, even if it rankled to sit and do nothing while the LT was likely dying; MacFarlane chose her fate, now it was on her to see it through. They’d made it very apparent that the Trill’s opinion on the matter meant little, even in the face of common sense, and she just couldn’t figure out why.

With the last of the boxes in place, Kino rolled up the sleeves of her sweat-soaked, gold-turned-mustard undershirt and opened the one she’d just set down, surprised to find three AP mines within, along with a few rations and a canteen of water. She took the satchel of mines with one hand and the canteen with another. The water was handed to the Vulcan as she passed towards the stairs.

“Where are you going,” the Klingon growled at her.

Taer turned the bruised side of her face and cold eyes to meet her glare, indifferent to the officer’s ire. “Found some mines in that ration crate; I can deploy them there, just in case -” she pointed at the second lowest tier of four that led up the ascension, fifty meters or so down.

Newcrotch promptly shook her head at the idea.

“No. Use the tier closest to us then get back here. That is not a request. Go,” she ordered curtly, then turned to the Vulcan. With a wordless exchange, he handed over the canteen, as the Klingon walked away towards the Chief and Bajoran that knelt in the center of the platform, still fiddling with the comms relay. “Talk to me, Chief,” Kino heard the LT say as her eyes moved to the Vulcan that watched her stoically; one of his brows twitched up at the non-com expectantly.

Kino turned away and stepped down the stairs onto the lower platform without another word, only to freeze at the sound of his quiet, perfectly emotionless voice.

“Self-control is not a weakness, Petty Officer Taer; it is the epitome of self-empowerment – an axiom I emphatically suggest you consider in the future.”

Unsure how to respond to that, Kino just nodded wearily and got to work.

[A few moments later…]

“Uplink established,” the Chief hollered, “stand-by for beam-out!”

Taer watched through her sights as the Vulcan and Klingon hauled the LT to her feet, eyes peeled for the slightest shimmer of movement, teeth clenched at the sight of MacFarlane; not in anger at the LT – only furious at what she had chosen to put herself through. The human had literally crawled through hell for her team and someone she barely knew and would likely never want to know. In that moment, Kino realized the heat she felt burning in her cheeks and heart wasn’t fury – it was shame. If given the chance, one day, Taer decided to make amends, or at least reach some understanding with her, but she doubted she’d ever get the opportunity.

Movement forced her attention back to the present, as four shimmers of light drifted into being just beyond the mined platform. Kino opened fire before the bastards dropped their cloaks, then rose out of cover with a shouted warning, moving to contact on instinct; beams of phaser fire joined her a second later from behind. Her eyes stayed locked on her targets, but her ears picked up with tell-tale whine of the mines' proximity warning. The lead Jem’Hadar dropped with three holes burned through his chest, then his buddy fell with a smoking hole where his face used to be.

Two more climbed the steps behind them, firing from their hips.

NuQach and Karatek were almost clear, each of them supporting MacFarlane.

The mines armed with an audible chirp and cycled up to detonate.

Kino had three seconds to act.

“COVER!” Taer scrambled to them; a hand reached out and grabbed a fist full of tactical vest to shove the three of them behind her, beyond the makeshift barricade, then managed a single backwards step before the world exploded in an agonizing burst of light, sound, and pressure. Kino’s vision tumbled, burned, blacked-out; it happened in an instant, faster than a blink, faster than her mind could even process – one second she was on her feet, the next...she couldn’t tell.

Everything was red, red, red; she couldn’t breathe – couldn’t move – couldn’t think.

Instinctively, Taer searched for her weapon; she couldn’t find it, or most of her right arm, and half of her left leg.

Wait...wait. Where..?
 
Kino couldn’t look away from the bloody, meaty strings of what used to be muscle and sinew as they twitched in vain; the mutilated remains of her limbs trying to obey her brain.

Where’s my...

Taer coughed out a mouthful of blood.

Somebody find my rifle, she tried to say, but couldn’t even hear her own voice. An odd, surreal calm took hold somehow, despite the pain – I’m in shock, Kino’s misfiring brain realized. I’m...dying. Shapes moved into view, blurred and unfocused; muffled sounds followed, voices she couldn’t understand.

Seconds or a lifetime later, a curtain of light grew in her dim, red-stained vision – it swallowed her up, faded to agony-infused gray, then drifted to black oblivion – taking Taer along with it.
 
Simple Audio Video Embedder