The Folly Of Youth

Posted on 20 Sep 2012 @ 1:01pm by Captain Jonathan Holliday

2,621 words; about a 13 minute read

Mission: Episode 01 - Project Sienna
Location: USS Galileo - XO's Quarters
Timeline: MD 10 - 0345hrs

[ON]

Reaching the doors to his quarters, Holliday threw the weight of his entire hand against the control panel, thankful that his first attempt had been sufficient to open up the mechanism without too much effort. He was quite literally dead on his feet, having had so little sleep in the past few days. In fact, if this had been any regular mission, he would have relieved himself of duty and taken a large dose of sedatives. Unfortunately, he did not have the liberty of such an action right now.

Having left the Bridge in the hands of his more-conscious officers, the XO-turned-captain had wasted no time in heading for his quarters. Stumbling into the room, Holliday did not even bother to activate the lighting, instead clumsily undoing the various elements of his uniform, allowing his clothing to fall to the floor as he made his way across his living area and towards his bedroom.

Wearing nothing other than the combadge he held in his hand, John finally allowed his legs to give out under his own bodyweight and sank onto his bed, slapping the door controls built into the side table as he landed to ensure that his privacy was protected by it's lock.
Sighing before moving his bodyweight to flip onto his back, Holliday fought back the rising desire to sleep, thinking back on the rescue mission, the look of despair on D'Grath's face as he had gunned him down in cold blood, the injuries to his captain strapped to a torture table, and the somewhat amusing image of his Intelligence officer vastly underdressed for duty. S

mirking for a moment, Holliday couldn't help but catch a glimpse of the small crystalline item that Coleman had given him only a few hours previously. The thought of extra sleep in a reduced time frame was an appealing one, in fact, it would mean that John could get back to the Bridge a lot sooner than he had thought, and far more refreshed than he ever could have been in the same timeframe. Reaching for the item, he cradled it in his hand, before pulling back and examining the crystal in his hand. It was smooth, cool to the touch, looking no different than any other raw crystal formation that one might have found on a planet, but something about it was different, something he couldn't put his finger on.

Eventually, giving into his own curiosity, and his own need to sleep, John placed the crystal on his forehead, before closing his eyes....

The sound of red alert sirens burrowed into John's head like a phaser drill, the dull sensation of red light outside his closed eyelids enough to finally stir him from his sleep. Sitting upright the XO was sharply interrupted by the sensation of his head bouncing off a solid object, before he finally opened his eyes and focused on the image in front of him.

It was a bed...a bunkbed in fact, the metal struts of the bunk above him having rudely awoken him, they themselves bathed in nothing more than the red glow of the alert lighting as Holliday pulled himself from his bed.

Gone were his quarters, replaced instead by a narrow room populated with several bunkbed pairs just like the ones he had just risen out of. The nightstand with his combadge on was gone, with nothing but empty space where it had once stood. Reaching down onto his chest to feel for it, Holliday was surprised to find not only his badge, but a uniform as well.

Looking down in the pale lighting, he saw something that he had not seen for some time - his familiar red command uniform replaced by the yellow Operations colour that he had worn some years previously. It was then that his mind caught up with the situation. Reaching up to his neck, the XO felt for his pips, searching for the collection that marked him out as a Lieutenant Commander and instead found only one...the markings of an Ensign.

"This....this was years ago....I'm on the Damacles?"

Leaping to his feet, the now-Ensign Holliday moved out into the corridor, watching as the doors parted to reveal a corridor bathed in red light, the ship screaming at it's crew to report to battle stations. Instinct took over, as John turned on his heels and began to run towards the nearest turbolift, dodging other crewmembers on the tight corridored Defiant class vessel as he did so, stopping only for a moment as he felt the ship shake under the impact that could only have been from a weapon of some kind.

"What the hell is going on? This is over ten years ago...the Damacles...we were fighting the Dominion...."

Soon his thoughts were interrupted as a console in the corridor behind him exploded in a shower of sparks, throwing debris and sharpened fragments into the section behind him, a few loose sparks catching his hand, enough to make him withdraw it in surprise.

"I'm dreaming...that must be it....a dream....but dream's aren't supposed to hurt...why can I feel pain?"

"Move it Ensign! Get your ass in gear before I tear you a new one!

Turning on his axis, Holliday was about ready to retort back at someone for insulting their XO before his brain reminded him of the situation. The face was that of their own XO, a Commander who's name he had long since forgotten, a man who he had never once gotten on with and had found to be brash, impulsive and insubordinate, ironically a series of traits that John himself had eventually taken on after years in Starfleet.

Watching as the Damacles' XO disappeared around a corridor, no doubt on the way to his own duty station on the Bridge, Holliday was surprised as the turbolift arrived and the doors opened in front of him. Stepping in, he called out his own destination, the Defiant-class Bridge.

In true dream-like fashion, the journey to the Bridge was gone in a brilliant white flash, his mind seemingly choosing to omit those insignificant details from his experience. As the blinding light died down, Holliday found himself stood adjacent to the turbolift, staring out at the viewscreen at the far end of the Bridge as the image of a Jem'Hadar fighter vessel passed overhead, and another rumble of weapons fire shook the vessel.

"Forward phasers, return fire! Dammit someone get those starboard shields up! Helm adopt defensive pattern Beta Two!"

The unforgettable voice of Captain Vlass echoed through John's mind. The Andorian had been his first ever commanding officer, and had personally taken it upon himself to show the new recruits to his crew around the cramped Damacles the moment they had first stepped on board. From that moment on, the young Holliday had always wanted to be as good as that man had been, as sharp, as quick witted, and as tactically aware.

Direct hit to our starboard nacelle! Sir there's a feedback surge building in the warp coils! There's nothing I can do!

The gruff Bajoran engineer at the station to the right of the captain's chair shouted out over the deafening whine of battle. Holliday remembered this moment, the first time he ever heard his ship, and indeed his life were truly in danger. The ship shook again under the strain of weapons fire, before Holliday closed his eyes. He remembered how this moment played out. After only a second, the Engineering console gave way and exploded from the force of an overloaded plasma conduit, throwing the charred body of the Bajoran the full width of the Bridge, landing only mere inches from Holliday who remembered how close he had come that day to loosing his stomach contents in front of his captain.

That's it then, we're done here. All hands this is the Captain - Abandon Ship, repeat, Abandon Ship - this is not a drill!

Motionless, as if frozen to this exact spot in space and time, Holliday watched as the crew around him followed orders and began to head towards the escape pods, desperate to escape as the crippled ship began to die around them. The young security Ensign however, had other plans, instead grabbing his phaser and moving up next to his captain, who still had yet to vacate his post.

"Sir!" Holliday began, his words coming from his mouth seemingly without his control, as if he were inside a movie character repeating his own lines.

"Starfleet protocol insists that where possible, command officers survive combat situations when a starship is deemed lost. We need to leave Captain!"

Regulations. Protocols. Directives.

Those had been the young Holliday's life, spending hours learning each and every guideline that Starfleet had to offer down to the letter, using them to plan his own life as well as anything else he had ever learned.

"Well ensign....who am I to argue with regulations....very well...it's time to leave.

John could still remember the shock that he had felt at the idea of a Captain, a veteran of Starfleet with decades of command experience, had agreed with his suggestion and followed it through. Even now his chest puffed with pride as he nodded to his CO, before following him out into the corridor and towards the relative safety of the cluster of escape pods held there.

That however, was still a long way away. As they rounded a corner together, the sound of phaser fire began to echo through the void once occupied by crewmen working frantically to maintain the Damacles and her systems. Instinctively grabbing his phaser, John inched further and further up the hallway, feeling his heart threatening to pulse it's way out of his chest at a moment's notice as the sound of weapons fire drew closer.

Eventually, he came across his worst fears. Beyond a few smouldering bodies wearing Starfleet uniforms, Holliday saw something that he had never thought he would have seen so young; the visage of a Jem'Hadar warrior and his cohort moving through the defeated remains of their adversaries, checking each body in turn for any signs of life, before applying several more weapon blasts to any that dared to twitch or move.

Without thinking, Holliday raised his phaser, firing not once, but twice, felling two of the three troops that had so viciously eliminated his compatriots. Looking up from his target, the lead Jem'Hadar raised his weapon and fired back, giving John only a second's notice to turn away and attempt to shield his body from impeding death. Closing his eyes, John felt no pain, no burning sensation or the smell of his own singed flesh, before opening them once again to see the sight of blue blood pooling at his feet. Next to him, propped up by the deck plating was the body of his Captain, with a Jem'Hadar disruptor wound to the shoulder, wincing in pain as he looked up at the perfectly-intact Ensign Holliday.

I couldn't have you get killed so soon out of the Academy kid...It'd go on my record.

Disruptor fire continued to rain down the corridor as Holliday contemplated his situation. His captain could have died because of his actions, and the fact that he had gotten away with a comparatively minor wound did nothing to absolve his supposed-bodyguard that had failed to protect a senior officer.

Rage boiled up inside his core, his eyes seeing red far brighter and blinding than any red alert illumination could ever have gone. Throwing his phaser across to the wounded Andorian, Holliday turned the corridor to see his Jem'Hadar adversary only a few feet away, before giving into blind anger and launching himself towards his target. The Jem'Hadar it seemed, was equally as perplexed as to why this pitiful human had taken such a rash decision, and was thoroughly unprepared for the force of bodyweight landing square against his ribcage.

As the two of them fell to the floor, the Jem'Hadar relinquished his grip on his weapon, either by accident as a result of the impact, or in a fit of rage of his own. Without a moment's hesitation, the XO began to mercelessly rain punch after punch down upon the grey-skinned invader, wanting to beat the life out of him in retaliation for the Starfleet lives that he had taken.

The Jem'Hadar had other ideas however. Even in the midst of such a frenzied attack, the genetically-conditioned warrior took the upper hand, wrapping his legs around the waist of his opponent and throwing him backwards, much to the surprise of Ensign Holliday. Landing hard against the deck, the wind knocked from his sails, the young security guard looked up to see the bloodied face of his opponent rising to his feet, and drawing a second weapon from his side holster; a standard issue Jem'Hadar pistol, deadly, with only one setting - kill.

Closing his eyes for what seemed like the final time, Holliday waited for death to come to him, thinking one last time of his injured captain as the sound of weapons fire screamed down the corridor, a hot burning sensation searing the flesh underneath his eye as he too screamed out in pain, no longer caring who heard his last sounds.

But death did not take him. He was alive.


Panting, the Ensign opened his eyes, feeling the warm sensation of his own blood dripping down one side of his face as his eyes focused on the sight of an Andorian....holding his shoulder with one hand to stem the flow of his own blood, the other holding a phaser, standing over the body of the now-defeated Jem'Hadar, that same one who had moved to kill him only moments ago.

It seemed that with one last surge of strength, the Captain had put himself in the line of fire once again to save his subordinate, launching a phaser attack that had hit with enough force to throw off the Jem'Hadar's aim, to mostly miss Holliday's chest and instead give only a glancing blow to the side of his face.

"Captain! I!...I!..."

Relax Ensign...I did nothing more than my job...we protect our own...


And with that the blinding white flash that he had experienced what seemed like only moments ago returned, wiping the image of the blue skinned Andorian from his vision, and depositing the XO back in his bed, a thin film of cold perspiration coating his body as he awoke, sitting bolt upright and throwing the El Aurian crystal to the foot his bed as it was launched from his forehead like a stone from a slingshot.

He was alone...in his quarters....on the Galileo.


"What the hell was that?!" The XO exclaimed, not entirely sure if he was awake or not, needing a few more moments to take in his situation. Instinctively he reached up towards his eye, expecting to find the same warm blood that he had sworn was there seconds ago, yet instead feeling nothing but the familiar strand of scar tissue that the very same engagement he had just played through again in his dream had rewarded him with.

That day had shaped the man he would become...he remembered now those words that he had been given by the wisest man he ever knew. Settling back down in his bed, he thought them over in his head, all the while preparing to figure out exactly how he would make sense of it all.


We look after our own.



[OFF]

Lt Cmdr Jonathan Holliday
Executive Officer
USS Galileo

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