Star Trek: Theurgy

Day 32 [1800 hrs.] Dor

May 08, 2020, 10:10:45 PM

DOR
STARDATE 57637.4
APRIL 11, 2381
1800 HRS.

[ Lt Valkra | Holodeck 02 | Deck 08 | Vector 02 | USS Theurgy | ruTyIHmeyghom Hoch ] attn: @fiendfall

One good thing could be said of this infernally-intelligent ship - it had an excellent library of the Federation's battles and hypothetical scenarios she could use for training, even if the actual holoprograms required some tinkering to get them to behave properly. That is, to behave as something that reasonably hid its simulated nature. She wasn't here to play pretend. She was here to train. Sitting on her hands was boring.

Even then, she was still hampered by the fact that there were relatively few available scenarios from which to choose. They were all from a Starfleet perspective, which was disappointing, though if she were to work with local Security troops she should at least see their training material. Of course, the fact that true integration would only come through actual in-person training with them was not lost on Valkra. But one step at a time. She could well-imagine that she'd meet some resistance when they discovered that she was not there to learn their ways but to improve them with her own.

And so it was that she found herself under a twilight sky during the liberation of Betazed, its aurorae stretching into these apparently-temperate latitudes as the naval action played out in orbit, the radiation wash from so many antimatter detonations riling up the magnetosphere. The grey-pink clouds in the darkening sky were underlit by fires burning in tall buildings, and the staccato flashes of weapons fire and explosions in the streets below. Around her the skyscrapers of what was probably Rixx stretched into the air, tastefully far apart and separated by wide thoroughfares and delicate little green spaces.

No wonder the Federation had such difficulty reclaiming this world, she thought, in the brief second or so available to her at the start of the program. It's completely indefensible. Little cover, and what was there was... flimsy. Hedgerows and benches and fountains. Valkra ducked into 'cover' next to some black-uniformed Starfleet... well, she supposed she ought to call them soldiers, though their equipment didn't seem to stand up to the label in her opinion. As she slid into the lee of some decorative statue or other she was lightly dusted with fine gravel as a polaron bolt slammed into the marble plinth.

"Glad you cared to join us," the Da' of this inadequate squad drawled. "We are on a timetable," he added, with the air of someone issuing some sarcastic reminder. "If we don't disable that jammer we'll never take this sector, let alone hold it."

"Then we go," Valkra replied, drawing her disruptor and standing, making towards the government building the squad lead had indicated. Phaser blasts ripped across the roadway to cover her advance to an abandoned vehicle, whence she returned the favour. There was a... was that a bunker? A strongpoint, anyway, sitting squat in the middle of a once-elaborately manicured intersection, filled with annoyed-looking Jem'Hadar and a Vorta of all things, for once not living up to their species' stereotypical cowardice and actually standing in the front lines with their fodder.

She aimed at him anyway. Smug bureaucrat.

Some more fire-and-movement (and several near-misses - she could've sworn the genetically-engineered enemy had had better aim at the time) and they fetched up in the shelter of some office building nearer their destination. Columns that were at once substantial enough to stand up to directed energy weapon fire and decorative enough to offer only-just-enough cover to their unit obscured them from their Dominion attackers. Valkra took a moment to glance over their weaponry and equipment. Phaser rifles, and a couple of them with bulky packs. One of them was also burdened with a trio of what looked like transporter pattern enhancer poles. "Where are your heavy weapons?" she demanded over the screaming noise of a flight of Peregrine fighters overhead, the ground clapping against the squad's bootsoles as they bombed some hard target a kilometre away.

A bekk-equivalent looked at her oddly. "You do know what one of these can do?" she raised her rifle in question. Valkra waved her down, exasperated.

"Yes, but where are your heavy weapons?" In response, someone pressed a photon grenade launcher into her hands. The Klingon's eyes lit up. "Much better!" she said, pulling out the extendable stock and leaning around the column. "Imagine how much time we could've saved-" a grenade left the first tube with a plastic thunk, "- if you'd have just-" the explosion was searing white in the half-light, "-answered me the first time." Smoking rubble pattered down amidst the hiss of falling dirt. The strongpoint on the intersection was half-demolished, but the Jem'Hadar defenders were made of suitably-stern stuff, and a couple were already returning fire - though at least with far less enthusiasm than before. Of the benighted Vorta there was no sign. "We should-"

Under the reports of polaron carbines and other units' phasers, came a much quieter but much more urgent sound; the tak-tak-tak of a bouncing grenade. "Get down!" she barked, diving away from her cover as the gravitic charge sucked a fair volume of stone and polymer out of the column and sidewalk before spraying it over their position, compressed into white-hot shards. The noise of her shout and subsequent detonation neatly covered the opening and closing of a door on the face of the building, but Valkra could hardly miss the person she ended up knocking to the ground in her dive.

"What in the name of Kahless' hairy arse-" she grunted, looking down at the newcomer. She knew the Starfleet simulations tended towards the tricksy, but this was beyond the pale.

An escort mission? Now? I thought the civilians were supposed to be in shelters!

Re: Day 32 [1800 hrs.] Dor

Reply #1 – May 12, 2020, 04:03:55 AM

[ Xelia | Holodeck 02 | Deck 08 | Vector 02 | USS Theurgy ] Attn: @Top Hat

Starfleet life was awful. Oh my god it was so boring. It was excruciating! Everyone had a personality that was some shade of beige, everyone wore the same plain unflattering outfits, and Xelia had to sleep on a bed the texture of sandpaper and wash her own hair! Ugh! It was embarrassing!

The one, single, only saving grace was the fact that the ship's computer really was gorgeous. Nicer even than her old setup, although the hardware could've done with an aesthetics overhaul. Not a single coloured light! Poor thing, she deserved better.

And if the computer was nice, then the holodecks were even nicer. Never before had Xelia had an entire captive audience to work with, all of whom had access to state of the art holo equipment, and it was all on site. Usually she'd had to compress her programs down ridiculously just so she could transmit them to people, and she'd had to make things that could work on janky, five-year-old equipment that had missed its last three updates and overheated if you ran it for more than an hour. She'd been strangling her vision just so people might be able to use it on whatever crappy thing they had access to, or their local holo suite had access to, or whatever. She'd only ever really been able to spread her wings with her commissions, made for Syndicate people, but with those she'd been tied down by what they wanted, which was almost always disgusting or disappointing.

No. Here she had complete creative freedom. And she was loving it.

The only downside was learning a new system and programming language. But she'd picked her old one up quickly enough, so she didn't think it'd slow her down too much. And in the meantime, she was having a lovely time getting to know the capabilities of the holodecks, spending hours in there running all sorts of programs.

Which had been her plan for today, until she reached Holodeck 2 and realised it was in use already. Oh, really? Her holodeck? Her favourite one? Someone else was in there? Ugh.

She stood by the door and pouted. Now what? God, it was so unfair! She couldn't just use any of the other ones -- Holodeck 1 smelt funny, and the others were miles away. She was absolutely not walking all the way over there.

Whatever. Maybe whoever was using this one wouldn't mind company.

If there were locks on the doors, they weren't engaged. She asked them to open and they did, parting before her to reveal... a city?

She stepped through, and it was only as the doors slid closed behind her that she heard weapon fire. Oh brilliant, she'd walked into some sort of military program. Probably filled with sweaty Starfleeters who were only interested in shooting things and talking about how great they were. Ugh. Boring.

And then there was a shout, and an explosion, and she was knocked to the ground by a force that took the air from her lungs.

Not just a force, she realised, blinking the stars from her eyes to see... Well. A Klingon woman, shielding Xelia from the explosion with her own body -- her very strong, very powerful body, pressed close to Xelia -- her very muscular arms, on either side of Xelia's head -- her sharp jawline and dark eyes...

'Hello, gorgeous,' she purred. 'Aren't you just delightful?'

She angled her head as if she was reclining artfully, and hadn't just been bowled over. The Klingon woman was firmly planted over her, but Xelia made no move to end that. Why would she? This was the most exciting thing that'd happened to her all week. Instead, she reached up to straighten the woman's collar, smoothing her hands over the woman's shoulders.

She smiled brightly. 'There. All better. Xelia, by the way. Absolutely delighted to meet you, sweet pea.' Now she knew this one was on board, perhaps the Theurgy wouldn't be nearly so bad.

'You're such a sweetheart for saving me, darling,' she said, coy. 'I'm ever so grateful. What else can you do?'  Watching sweaty men shout and wrestle and shoot things was the most boring thing she could think of, but watching this glorious creature? Oh, she could do that all day.

Re: Day 32 [1800 hrs.] Dor

Reply #2 – May 15, 2020, 05:27:41 PM

[ Lt Valkra | Holodeck 02 | Deck 08 | USS Theurgy | ruTyIHmeyghom Hoch ] attn: @fiendfall

An Orion. On Betazed. Yep, Federation simulations were designed to be distracting. What on earth was a lone Orion doing here during an invasion? Out and about? It made no sense. Not only were her Starfleet contemporaries apparently misinformed about what constituted proper fireteam construction, but their holoprogrammers were practical jokers, too. If Praxis hadn't exploded all over the Qo'nos orbit we'd own a third of the galaxy by now. Mostly she was glad that she wouldn't have to deal with a pheromone-induced migraine on account of the woman's photonic nature.

Not that she likely would've had to worry in the first place, given the hologram's attitude towards her. A tiny crease appeared between her brows as a baffled frown crossed her face, easily visible given that her hair was still so neatly tied into its plait that not a hair had escaped in her dive. Dexterous green fingers elected instead to fiddle with her uniform, as if determined to distract her further.

"There. All better. Xelia, by the way. Absolutely delighted to meet you, sweet pea. You're such a sweetheart for saving me, darling. I'm ever so grateful. What else can you do?"

Painfully pretty, too, although the cooing was almost too close to stereotype. Va, she groused to herself, annoyed at her own lack of focus. Thankfully, she was brought back to the scenario by a shout behind her; the Jem'Hadar were counterattacking now that their position was untenable, going on the offensive before the other Federation squads moving up the promenade overran them. The road was swiftly becoming, in the technical parlance, 'a shitshow' as the criss-crossing phaser beams overlapped with streams of bright blue bolts. How will these flower beds ever recover?

Valkra looked back over her shoulder towards the shout, the movement stretching the scar across her left cheek, and took up her disruptor again to send a rapid trio out towards the incoming troops. "Come," she instructed, grabbing a fistful of the woman's shirt and dragging her back towards the pillars for cover in an awkward half-crouch to keep their heads low. "How much further?" she demanded of the nearest bekk.

"Two buildings down on the left," he said, jutting his chin in the relevant direction. "You're welcome to go first." Coward.

"Get those fighters back here to strafe the street. There will be more shrouded Jem'Hadar."

"What about her?" he asked, looking at... at 'Xelia', she remembered. Valkra looked blankly at the Orion for a second, then back to the bekk.

"I doubt we need to call an airstrike on the civilian," she informed him, catching an enemy trooper in the face with a disruptor bolt as he dashed between bits of cover. Screaming impulse engines announced the next pass for the Peregrines and further explosions tore across the roadway as it was raked by heavy phaser fire. Without consciously thinking about it, Valkra's free arm had gone round the green waif's shoulders, and as the fighters made their attack run her hand had moved protectively over the Orion's head. No sense failing the scenario because the escort target had been domed by a piece of shrapnel.

In the sudden quiet that followed, the rest of the little unit started running towards the communications facility. Valkra checked that the civilian was unhurt and ready to follow - and then saw her footwear. The mass disparity between them aside, no wonder the woman had gone down so fast when the Klingon had collided with her. These looked designed to be unstable. She wasn't sure if the Federation or the Orion people in general could be accused of being more likely to produce a such a tall and narrow heel. Valkra met the eyes of the hologram, for a moment impressed at the programmers' apparent dedication to verisimilitude as she looked over her face, and then informed her: "I must carry you. I don't want you to turn an ankle." The unspoken ending of that being 'and slow me down,' of course.

Valkra didn't wait, slinging the slender woman over one shoulder (her pauldron conveniently wide enough to spread the weight a little more comfortably for them both) before sprinting to catch up with the others. A few desultory polaron shots were sent their way, but the resistance in this part of the street was mostly overcome. The other Starfleet troops were already consolidating on the intersection as the Klingon slid heavily through some rubble underfoot and then into the trans-al doors to the target building. Standing the Orion back on her feet in the lobby, Valkra took her shoulders and turned her this way and that. "Are you injured?" she demanded, in case one of those earlier stray shots hadn't been. Apparently not. "Good," she declared. "How is it you ended up wearing those shoes in a war zone, anyway?"

The officer in charge spoke up. "We should-"

Whatever he was about to say was cut off as a hail of polaron fire filled the foyer, pulverising marble floors and walls and leaving glowing holes in the furniture. The team (now one short) hid behind intervening objects, but Valkra could hear pounding footfalls under the gunfire. They were being charged - a dozen Jem'Hadar materialising out of thin air on a wide set of stairs as they dropped their shrouds. The Orion woman was pushed behind a suitably artistic statue of.. something or other, but it looked solid at least. Valkra crouched next to her with her mek'leth in one hand and her disruptor in the other, and joined the rest of them in trying to thin the enemy's ranks before they made it across the (too short) distance of the lobby.

They did not appreciably succeed.

Valkra was at the back, which rankled, but the others were woefully unprepared to deal with hand-to-hand combat, it seemed. The Vulcan was holding his own through raw strength, and the Andorian seemingly enjoyed a respectable passion for the fight, but the Humans got stuck on the defensive and likely wouldn't last long. "Stay behind me," she instructed. A couple of well-aimed shots downed a Jem'Hadar before he could cut the Vulcan down, but its immediate comrade looked towards Valkra... and turned invisible.

"Cheater," she growled.

Then another, nearer Jem'Hadar reached her, and she exploded out of cover to meet him head-on. Her laughter mingled with gun shots, the metallic noise of kar'takin blades on rifle stocks, and the screams of the injured.

Re: Day 32 [1800 hrs.] Dor

Reply #3 – May 24, 2020, 09:19:17 PM

[ Xelia | Holodeck 02 | Deck 08 | Vector 02 | USS Theurgy ] Attn: @Top Hat

The Klingon woman just stared at her.

'Yes darling, take it all in now,' Xelia said, smiling. The woman completely blanked her, moving off her instead, and Xelia pouted at how quickly that had happened. 'Don't go, sweetheart!' she mewed ineffectually as the woman stood.

The Klingon paid her no notice. Ugh! Rude!

'I suppose in Klingon culture ignoring someone probably means "wow babe you're so hot", right?' Xelia said sarcastically from the floor. Who did this woman think she was? Other than gorgeous, of course.

Fine. She'd get up herself. No one seemed interested in helping her. Was everyone here this rude? She'd barely been on her feet half a second before the Klingon woman was back -- 'Well hello again, sweet pea!' -- and yanking her away from wherever it was they were currently.

'Come,' was the Klingon's only instruction.

'Stoic one, aren't you? You're going to ruin my shirt,' she said petulantly. The woman was dragging her away by the soft material; it was probably going to end up bagging all over the place and looking awful. 'You can look but don't touch, darling.'

Thankfully they reached wherever it was they were going -- it all looked the same, honestly, but here there were pillars? Oh, to stand behind. She leant lightly on hers, trying to adjust her shirt. Ugh, the neckline had sagged -- and it hadn't exactly been conservative to start with, darling -- but at least she was wearing a cute bra, and she'd mostly managed to smooth out the stretch marks left by the woman's hand. Ugh, really, no respect for fashion!

Glancing up, she saw the woman looking at her with a blank expression. She gave a little wave. The woman turned and shot someone in the face. And darling, didn't she just look wonderful doing it!

Something exploded, and Xelia flinched away from the noise only to find herself protected by a strong, muscular arm; she pressed herself into the woman for safekeeping and gazed up at her.

'Look at you, protecting me again,' she said seductively. 'Just where would I be without you, sweetling?' She was going to turn this training holo into a romance program one line at a time.

Apparently, she didn't even have to work that hard -- as those around them started running off somewhere, the woman turned to Xelia, looked her up and down, and announced her intention to carry her. Oh it was perfect! Xelia could lie beautifully in her arms, staring up at her strong protector, and then when the Klingon set her down maybe she could brush the hair from the woman's eyes, or--

The woman picked her up without warning and slung her over one shoulder, ass in the air. What? No! This wasn't how it was supposed to go at all! This was undignified and gross! She couldn't look beautiful or stare up into the woman's eyes!

'Put me down!' she said, outraged. 'Carry me properly! What is this supposed to be? Ugh!'

She was completely ignored, as usual. Honestly, she was starting to wonder if this Klingon woman wasn't, like, mad or something. Like maybe she was, like... het. Ugh, imagine. Gross.

At least when the woman dumped her down she didn't just throw Xelia to the floor like so much trash. She did however see the need to twirl Xelia around like she was at market; ugh, she was getting so tired of being manhandled.

'I'm fine,' she said rather shortly when the woman asked if she was injured. She shook off the woman's touch, stepping back and crossing her arms over her mangled shirt. Admittedly she was a little over-dressed (or under-dressed?) for this. But to be fair, much as the armour suited her mystery Klingon protector, it would've bulked Xelia out in all the wrong places -- she could hardly be expected to wear something like that now could she?

'These shoes are fashion actually, thank you, and this is hardly a war zone.' She shrugged casually. 'Besides, if you'd bothered to ask you'd know I'm perfectly capable of running in heels.'

Of course, even if it was just a holo, it was still a combat scene, so the next thing that happened was, predictably, more fire. Oh no, more people shooting at us, blah blah. Xelia found herself shoved unceremoniously behind a statue that'd been broken in the crossfire, or maybe it'd just always looked that bad. The Klingon woman crouched beside her, at least, shooting at stuff and doing whatever. Xelia alternated between watching and checking her nails.

When she next looked up it was to see that everyone seemed to have given up on shooting each other and were now just fighting hand-to-hand. At least this was more interesting. She could watch the Klingon woman fight and dive and be all athletic and lithe and whatever. It definitely wasn't a terrible view.

At least, it wasn't a terrible view until it was interrupted by a Jem'Hadar coming straight at her. That really spoiled the mood.

Re: Day 32 [1800 hrs.] Dor

Reply #4 – May 29, 2020, 08:11:38 PM

[ Lt Valkra | Holodeck 02 | Deck 08 | USS Theurgy | ruTyIHmeyghom Hoch ] attn of and line of dialogue kindly provided by: @fiendfall

These holodecks were good. Apart from thinking of them as such, Valkra could almost forget that they were holodecks. The only thing missing was the smell, really. The environmental circuit did a decent job of injecting smoke-scent into the air, but it had none of the nuance of a true battlefield. Pulverised stonework, ejected dirt, burned blood, ionised air... it was all missing. The opponents were well-programmed, though. They fought like the Jem'Hadar they were supposed to be, and the stakes were set suitably high to excite her.

She shot an enemy trooper in the eye as he drew his sword back to cleave one of the Starfleet bekks apart. On her left, another Dominion soldier came in, trying to capitalise on what he thought was her distraction. Valkra skipped aside, her mek'leth coming down through his collarbone in a white spray of ketracel. The blade caught, and the weight of the Jem'Hadar dragged her off-balance. She growled, wrenching the shortsword free in time to see the butt of a polaron carbine before it struck her face. Her head snapped around in time to watch the Jem'Hadar she'd lost track of before unshroud himself next to the civilian.

I'll be damned if I fail this simulation because of some Federation nonsense-

Ah, yes. The Jem'Hadar she was fighting. Fortunately, he had reintroduced himself before she forgot all about him. Unfortunately, the form his reminder took was a heavy sword-swing into her ribcage.

Valkra roared, spinning to wrench the blade out from the meat over her ribs before stomping the man's leg out from under him and shooting him in the neck. She ignored the spreading warmth flowing down her flank as she bled into her raiment. The Daa'maq soldier wasted no time retreating back to the statue and her accidental charge. Who... hadn't made a single move towards or away from the trooper bearing down on her.

"... Honestly," the Orion was saying, "this whole 'stormtrooper chic' just... isn't, darling."

If the Jem'Hadar had any particular programmed opinion about that critique, he didn't get the chance to express it before Valkra came in with a vicious mek'leth strike, swearing colourfully at him in Klingon as he collapsed in a heap. The others were holding their own, for the moment, so she took the time to look over the tiny green woman with a new eye. Her voice was less harsh than before, tinged with what might have been respect, had she not been addressing  a hologram. "You didn't run," she declared. "You probably should h-"

Valkra sank to one knee. The pause in the combat and the (evidently worse than she imagined) blood loss had ganged up on her. Perhaps she'd torn something in her revenge upon her attacker. She chuckled ruefully as she pressed a hand to her side, viscous lavender fluid leaking between her fingers. "You, ah, don't happen to have any medical programming, do you?" she asked, her other hand trying to unclasp the little medical pouch attached to her thigh. "Blasted thing..." she mumbled.

The indignity. Wounded by a training regime. Admittedly, one that she'd adjusted a little to her own ends, but a training program it remained.

"Could you..?"

Re: Day 32 [1800 hrs.] Dor

Reply #5 – June 08, 2020, 09:16:35 PM

[ Xelia | Holodeck 02 | Deck 08 | Vector 02 | USS Theurgy ] Attn: @Top Hat

It was one thing to watch an attractive woman twirling and striking and generally absolutely destroying her opposition; it was quite another to have one of those enemy soldiers approach Xelia herself. Ugh, no, she wasn't interested in actually fighting anything! Go get your arm ripped off by the Klingon woman and angle it so Xelia had a good view, there's a dear.

'No, not you,' she said petulantly as the creature advanced on her, completely obscuring her view of the other woman. 'I don't want to see you! Ugh, you're ruining it!'

A bellow that could only have come from a Klingon in the throes of rage rang out, and Xelia pouted in frustration.

'Now look what you made me do!' she exclaimed, offended. 'I'm missing all the fun bits! All I can see is your awful outfit. Honestly, this whole "stormtrooper chic" just isn't, darling.'

Why did the Theurgy have to ruin everything fun? Ugh, this was a nightmare! All she'd wanted was to-- Oh look the Jem'Hadar didn't have a head anymore.

'Darling!' she cried with a little round of applause. The Klingon woman stepped over the holographic corpse, showering him in Klingon curses as she did. 'That was wonderful, you really are something aren't you?'

The woman got halfway through expressing surprise that Xelia hadn't run -- What would be the point? nIt wasn't like holographic enemies could actually hurt her. -- before suddenly cutting off halfway through her sentence and collapsing downwards like she'd been struck. Was this some kind of weird combat move? Was she going to breakdance???

And then Xelia saw the blood. What?!

'What?!' she exclaimed. 'You're hurt?' Starfleet was putting hard light in their holo programs? Why! That wasn't fun! Not unless you were watching combat slaves try to make it through a gauntlet of holographic challenges, of course, that was brilliant. She'd binged Season 2 of Escape from Y'Riej in, like, a week. But there was such a big difference between watching someone in increasingly unrealistic mortal peril, and between actually being properly in danger yourself.

This had very quickly turned from a fun little adventure to an actually terrible situation. She didn't want to get injured! She didn't even want to break a nail! She'd been able to grow them out since leaving Vondem and it was nice, she was enjoying it. She didn't want that to end!

And now this woman was asking if Xelia had any medical knowledge! She didn't! She'd just wanted a flirt!

Ugh! Why did Starfleet have to ruin everything?! If it was just a holographic injury she could've told the program to fix it, but this was, like, real. And gross. And the woman needed help with it.

Ugh! Fine. She moved closer to the woman gingerly, eyeing up the wounded area like it might bite her. But it was okay, she didn't need to, like, look at it or anything. The woman just needed her little medical bag thing. Xelia could get that for her.

She unclasped it carefully, trying to touch as little as possible, before holding it out for the other woman kind of uselessly. She wasn't going to have to do anything with it, was she? Just peering at the injury from this distance made her light-headed. Ew.

'Is that, like, everything?' she asked. 'Like, are you done?'

Re: Day 32 [1800 hrs.] Dor

Reply #6 – June 12, 2020, 07:20:25 PM

[ Lt Valkra | Holodeck 02 | Deck 08 | USS Theurgy | ruTyIHmeyghom Hoch ] attn: @fiendfall

Valkra took the proffered kit and flipped open the lid, one hand still pressed into her side as she looked over the contents. She flashed back to one of the last excursions she'd made on the Qigh'YoD, and had to ruefully admit that at least this medical bag wasn't almost irretrievably damaged. That had turned out to be an exciting day.

The Orion woman was surprised she was hurt, which nagged at the back of her mind as to why a hologram would care, but she didn't spend too much of her attention on that line of thought. One-handed, she fished out an injector of coagulant and jabbed it into her flank below the wound, and swept a gaze over how the rest of the lobby was faring. A second unit had pushed through the doors to reinforce the somewhat-reduced squat she'd arrived with, and the last of the Jem'Hadar guarding this room had been felled.

"Come on," the leader was calling. "We have to disable the jammer!"

"Is that, like, everything? Like, are you done?"

The Klingon looked back to the woman before her (who was turning a little yellow around the edges) then peeled her hand away from her injury for an experimental second before clamping it back down. "Hm," she said. She needed the vascular regenerator, but she also needed two hands to set it, and Xelia here seemed the opposite of the handy type. Handsy, perhaps, but-

No distractions.

"Press here a moment," she instructed, pulling the Orion's slender hand to the proper spot and demonstrating the required pressure. "Don't look at me like that; I can guarantee I am in greater discomfort."

Working as quickly as she could (and having to scoot closer to the woman to keep the pressure constant even as she tried to pull away), she made the relevant adjustments to the regenerator and aimed it at her wound, now only needing one hand. She allowed the Orion to rescue her own hand before activating the beam and stemming the bleeding. Having an unobstructed view at last, she conceded that the injury was indeed a little deeper than she should have allowed.

"Hey! You over there! Get up here already-"

The frustration at this infernal program boiled over. First being saddled with Starfleet 'soldiers' barely worth the title, then this escort target, and then losing focus long enough to get hit, and now this two-bit 'officer' trying to hurry her up while she ensured she didn't bleed to death in some simulation. 

So she shot him, her disruptor taken up in her off-hand.

[Scenario failed; friendly fire.] The holograms dissolved, followed by the surrounding architecture, until the bare hologrid remained. [Ending program.]

Still kneeling on the deck, she finished up with the more urgent vascular work before pulling out the dermal equivalent to clear all trace of the injury. "Scars taken in training don't count," she informed Xelia, before starting and all but leaping to her feet. "Kahless' hairy arse," she swore. "You're real?"

Valkra started laughing, before reaching down with her unbloodied hand to offer to pull the Orion to her high-heeled feet.

- FIN