Aim.

Posted on 12 May 2013 @ 10:07pm by Lieutenant Theron Rhodes & Lieutenant JG Kestra Orexil

2,632 words; about a 13 minute read

Mission: Episode 03 - Frontier
Location: USS Galileo - Deck 3 - Security Office
Timeline: MD07 - 1900 hrs

ON:

Kestra felt as though her brain might actually be boiling in the captive vice of her skull. Sitting back from the console, she rubbed her eyes and fought an urge to hit something. Her leg, the chair, the console. A day of desk duty and cataloguing reports had done nothing to sate her need for action, usefulness, anything that might make her feel as though there were actually a reason for her to be out of the biobed and in this blasted contraption. If she were going to be treated as though she were ill and incompetent in any capacity other than back-patter and advice-giver, she might as well retreat to Sickbay and take up embroidery again. It wasn't that the work wasn't something that needed doing - it was; only it could have been done by a well-organized algorithm and a quality AI. It was busy work. To keep her busy. To make her feel as though she actually had a place still in this department - only she didn't. She knew that as well as they did.

What she needed was a way to prove that she wasn't, in fact, incompetent. To them, yes, but also to herself, because the idea of spending the rest of her career perched in front of a console and telling recruits about the "good ol' days" filled her with a grappling sense of horror. Capable. Useful. She pressed her lips together on an exhale, and reached out to 'knock' as it were on the edge of Rhodes' consciousness. Can you spare a moment?

Walking down the passageway, Rhodes heard/felt Kestra touch his mind. He stopped and placed a hand on the wall and focused his mind. Yes. Where are you. He really had no idea if she could hear him, but would soon find out.

An image of the security console in the office on deck three perched in his mind for an instant, then faded with her voice. I completed the reports you asked for, she mentioned, but that wasn't why she was reaching out; that was clear in the baited anticipation accompanying the words.

All right. Well that went well, Rhode thought and continued I will meet you there in a few minutes.

Her appreciation was palpable, flexing against his consciousness not unlike a cat, then dissipating into nothing as she withdrew from his mind. Practice, practice, practice. She focused her senses on Liyar, observing him from a distance to keep her tendrils off the new Chief of Security. Replacement was working in lieu of simply letting go of connections, but that would come with time. She hoped.

- - -

Entering the security office, Rhodes saw Kestra in her hover chair near the main console. There were a couple other security personnel in the area. He said with authority. "Let me have the room." There were no other words or need for request. The security personnel knew to get out and do it quickly, which they did leaving Rhodes and Orexil across the room from each other.

"So," Rhodes began as he stepped slowly closer, "How can I help you Lieutenant?"

I would like to re-qualify for my phaser. She looked at him, unblinking. I am of no use to you like this. I can listen, and pay mind, and will do as you've asked. But I am not so disabled that I cannot defend this ship. I do not believe I am. I wish an opportunity to prove it to you.

Theron was a little shocked by this bold statement, but then really shouldn't have been. Every time She had touched his mind he had felt a restricted or limited person.

Rhodes finally said, "Alright." Then raising a his voice, "Christoph!"

Camibree came running into the security office from the brig area, "Yes Chief?"

Without taking his eyes from Kestra he told Christoff, "Go to the Armory and get two training type II phasers. Then, go to the firing range and clear out who ever is there. Lieutenant Orexil and I will be re-qualifying with phaser today."

Kestra bowed her head. Thank you.


Phaser Firing Range

The Phaser Firing Range is a specially designed chamber, much like a holodeck, allowing it to provide many types of targets, backgrounds, and situations. Today, Lt. Rhodes would use it for a different purpose.

Lt. Rhodes and Lt. Orexil entered the Firing Range. Petty Officer Christoph was standing there with the two phasers. Theron walked up to her taking the phasers from her, and then with a sideways movement to her he dismissed her.

Bree knew full well that that little nod of the Chief's head meant to get out and secure the door. Passing Lt. Orexil in the hoverchair, Bree tried to keep a straight face. She realized that this was a serious situation, a smile or a frown to the Lieutenant would not be appropriate. Bree had no idea what Rhodes had planned, but she felt it wasn't going to be easy.

The doors closed and Lt. Rhodes faced the pupil. This would probably be the hardest thing Theron had ever done. With a sturn/training voice, "This is the training version of a Type-II Hand Phaser, model TnG-271T. Take it." He extended his hand with the handgrip pointed toward her. Rhodes continued with a sturn voice, "Confirm that you practice weapon is functional."

Kestra was already halfway through the system check before he asked her to confirm the phaser's functionality. Power bars at full. Manual targeting diagnostic. Target practice setting. Safety on. The phaser fit in her hand as though she'd never let go of it; it felt comfortable, at home, against her palm. Some things, perhaps, she had not lost as a result of her injuries.

Stepping to Kestra's side, Rhodes ordered, "Computer. 2 moving targets. execute."

Kestra's gaze sharpened on the targets as they appeared at the end of the range, moving closer. Her arm lifted, shoulder relaxed, safety off, thumb and forefinger flexed twice in quick succession, then again, then again. By the time the targets reached them, they each bore a cluster of three holes near the center. Like riding a bicycle, she thought, then, Perhaps more manageable than riding a bicycle.

Stepping in front of Kestra, Rhodes instructed, "Disassemble the weapon."

Safety on. Triggers detached. Power cell ejected. Remaining power discharged. Kestra held the phaser out between her hands.

Without any delay, he instructed, "Reassemble it."

Power cell inserted and locked. Triggers attached and locked. Safety on. She held it aloft once more for inspection. It was strange to be treated to these rough demands, but nothing new and she understood he needed to assert his place in the pecking order. It would be as it was.

Stepping to the side again, Rhodes instructed, "Computer, 6 moving targets, quick pace. Execute."

Target training mode on and safety off, Kestra aimed again. Her thumb and forefinger alternated quickly, her arm moving through muscle memory alone. Her movements were steady and even, dispersing her attacks over the full range of targets, back and forth, and the continuous movement was not an easy one. The fact that her muscles remembered what it was they were supposed to do, and could, didn't mean that they were used to it. They'd lain uselessly for over two weeks and the demands she placed on them here and now were answered by will and adrenaline. The targets arrived, bearing their burned clusters bravely for inspection. She fought the sudden wish to rub her arms and shoulders. She'd get used to it again. Practice. Motion. Work. That was all. She locked the safety on once more and looked to Rhodes.

Rhodes was very proud of Kestra's accomplishment, but this was not the time to share that fact. Stepping in front of her again, "Disassemble your weapon."

She did. Again. Safety. Triggers. Power. Discharge.

"Re-assemble it."

Power cell. Triggers. Safety check. Mode check.

Rhodes continued to have Orexil disassemble and reassemble the phaser 5 times. His tone became more and more intense, telling her to do it faster each time.

Her fingers moved faster than her mind. Rote practice. She'd done this hundreds of times. And despite the growing ache in her muscles, she never would have done anything else. The sense of purpose and productivity supplanted any whine in her unused muscles.

"Are you tired yet?" Rhodes barked not looking for an answer. He called out loudly, "Computer. Load assault program Rhodes 225. Execute." He quickly stepped to the side. Before them was the bridge of the Galileo in heat of battle. The Red Alert claxon was sounding. The Captain was calling out orders. The ship was buffeted by the attack, several consoles had already had damage, and just then enemy combatants beamed onto the bridge. Rhodes called out over the noise of battle, "Defend your ship!"

Kestra aimed for their heads, automatically switching from training to stun, clusters at the temple to temporarily cripple neurotransmitters. One by one they fell.

More combatants beamed aboard.

BaQa'! She twisted her upper body to shoot the one behind her in the face then snapped back to stun the others.

Theron then jumped in front of her in the line of fire, yelling, "Is this too much! Can you defend yourself and your ship under pressure?"

Her arm swung wide to keep him out of her line; her gaze continued to search past his body for the others. She knew they were there. She could hear-

An attacker came up behind Rhodes. He fended off the attacker with an elbow to the throat, turning gave a punch to the center of the chest, knocking it down. Turning back to Kestra, Rhodes slapped her with the back of his hand across her face. The attackers continued to come. Rhodes yelled in Orexil's face, "Under stress and and in pain, can you continue . . " Kestra didn't see the one on Rhodes right. Theron lunched bringing his forearm to the attacker's throat causing him to flip backwards.

She shot the assailant in the air before he could hit the ground and drove the hoverchair with one finger forward to drop right on top of him, spitting the blood from her split lip to the side.

"This is not the worst it could be!" Rhodes yelled. "CAN YOU STAND UP TO THIS!!" and he pounded his fist onto the arm of her chair.

The chair whimpered under the pulse from his fist. She might have been yearning for combat, but the hoverchair was designed for peaceful trots to and from the Sickbay. It sputtered and pulsed out, but the attackers were still beaming aboard. Enough. She threw herself down and forward, hitting the deck hard and dragging herself bodily towards the consoles. Shields to full. Anti-transporter mechanisms online. That should take care of the additional- she ducked as a fist coming towards her head was reflected in the console. If these were men, real and flesh, she'd have felt every single one of them. But they were holograms, so she had only her eyes to rely on. On the floor, she twisted and stunned him, using his falling body as cover to shoot another three and bring them down. Silence. She waited, listening. Footsteps; she shoved the body towards the newest combatant and leveled her phaser at- Rhodes. Her hand jerked to the side, but her tension didn't release as the body hit him and thumped off to the side.

Rhodes was extremely please with her action. Now, was the time to bring this all together. With the attacker neatly blocked and onto the ground, Rhodes stood at Orexil's feet. "Computer. Stop program." He starred at Kestra. He could see she was still in an intense mode, so he waited a couple beats, and took a deep breath. With full authority and calm he said, "Lt. Orexil, you have should complete control in the heat of this simulated battle." He knelt down at her feet, watching the tension ease from her eyes. "You have done more than anyone else I could expect. I have no problem, what so ever, qualifying you with a phaser . . and more."

Thank you. I always did well at firearms training; the work is rewarding. Kestra dabbed at her lip with her tongue, leaning up on her elbows. Where did you learn your training techniques? Qo'noS?

Theron stood, "Computer discontinue program." and the room returned to a clean and pristine black walled room. He extended both hands to help her up. "Well, this particular training was a touch over regulations, but we both now know you can handle the pressure." He hoped the comment was accepted as encouragement and not discouragement.

She stared at his hands. What exactly did he think he was going to help her up to? He'd destroyed the only conveyance she had. She knew very well that his attack had been over regulation, but why - she knew it had nothing to do with what she might be able to handle. She'd trained tens of new sec-officers, worked with marines who outweighed her and outmuscled her. She'd never hit a single one of them. The question was whether Theron was working out anger on his own, or working it out specifically at her. It could have been either. Or something else entirely. And she could have looked, but instead she sought her cousin's mind and breathed in the journalistic mutterings. When she'd found the link that would distract her overeager senses from prying, she looked at Rhodes. Was there more you wished to test?

Theron replied gently, shaking his head side to side, "No. We have done enough." He looked around and back to Kestra. "Maybe I should go find a chair for you."

There was only the one, she told him quietly. Perhaps I can convince Lieutenant Kohl to find me another, sturdier, alternative. I will look into it. She did not like being on the floor. Crawling for the sake of the mission was one thing; crawling because her legs were sedentary masses in front of a man who'd once been her subordinate and was now her superior officer was mortifying. I'm sure you've other things you must attend to... Her thoughts were practically swarming. I appreciate your time.

=^= Christoph to Lieutenant Rhodes. =^=

What now. Rhodes thought straightening up, with a tap of his comm, =^= Rhodes here. Go! =^=

=^= We need you in the Brig right away. =^= Christoph said, not wanting to explain over the open channel.

Rhodes wanted to say, 'Can't you not handle it?' But, with the title comes responsibility. =^= Alright. I'll be right there. Rhodes out. =^= He looked down at Kestra, not sure what to say in the minute he had. "Should I call someone?" He shrugged slightly. "I could carry . . " He stopped mid sentence on that know that was really not going to be an option.

I will manage. If she couldn't handle this, she didn't deserve her phaser after all. Go on.

Rhodes hesitated again, but he really needed to go. "Alright, but I will see you later." and stepped away. Rhodes left the firing range with Lt. Orexil on the deck. Walking down the passageway, I am not sure how I will ever live this one down.

She watched him go and said nothing to his thought, unsure if it was truly his or merely an echo of her own.

OFF:


Lt.(jg) Theron Rhodes
Chief Security/Tactical Officer
USS Galileo

LT JG Kestra Orexil
Security Officer
USS Galileo

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