[Galaxy] [ND] 27 Sep 2161 :: ND Command Center :: Capt Michah Oliver & Major K Mason :: "I've Got Your Back"

[Kate Nicholson]

~~~~~

[ Command Center ]

"Raven Two," Mason said into the communicator.  "What's your status?"

=Infirmary is clear, Major.  Four Klingon prisoners to keep in mind, but
we've got them hog-tied.  And then I stunned them for good measure.
Carpenter has a couple of fractured ribs, but nothing broken.  He's good to
go for the time being.=

"Roger that," Mason replied.  "Hook up with Pathfinder and the rest of the
Ravens.  We're clearing the the compound."

=Copy that, Major.  Ravens Two and Four hooking up with Pathfinder, now.=

There was a little more radio chatter, but it wasn't of immediate concern to
Mason, so he turned to Oliver.  "So far we haven't broken anything you can't
easily repair, Ma'am."  There was the hint of a smile, but he was too much
of a professional soldier to commit to it, yet.

It wasn't lost on Oliver, who showed no such perfect professionalism and
smiled without withholding. "You can break whatever you need to to get rid
of those Klingons. They showed me no mercy, and while I'd not do to them
what they did to me, I'll not tolerate them on this planet a moment longer
than necessary. And if they stub their toes a few times on their way off,
well, gee that's just real damn sad."

"You're a fighter, Captain Oliver," Mason said as he walked a line of
consoles, scanning the data displayed.  "I don't know what they did to you,
but I know others who have been under their thumb and never really came
back.  Good people, broken."  There was a pause, but whether it was a moment
of remembrance or a skipped step to re-read some information couldn't be
discerned.  "Fighters all," he continued, "but no amount of training or
experience can dictate how someone will react in that situation.  You're
made of stern stuff, Ma'am.  We'll get your colony back for you."

Michah was a perceptive woman and lived a lot by her instincts and
intuition. She felt sure this man understood her anxiety about the events on
the Klingon ship. "I don't remember most of what happened, but I told them
everything they asked, when I could understand what they were asking. Where
I do start to remember, I was a real mess. And  I try not to think about how
I got that way. That selective memory is probably the only reason I look
like such a fighter. I plan to start seeing the Counselor as soon as you get
our colony back for us. I'll let you know in a year how tuff I really am."

"Everyone has a breaking point, Ma'am," Mason said.  "Everyone.  I don't
care how stone cold the person may seem, given enough time and pressure even
those 'dead inside' guys will start blubbering.  So that's not the important
thing.  What's important is what you do afterwards.  I think you're right to
see a counselor.  We all need help sometimes, and in a year I'm quite
certain you'll be stronger for it."

"I appreciate your confidence. It means a lot. It really does," she said
sincerely. Michah was surprised how well she was liking this Major Mason.
Commandos were not on her standard social list for various reasons, but this
guy was alright. "What do we do next? Tell me how to stay out of your way."

"By getting my back," he replied simply.  "Like I said before, I'm not a
babysitter, and I can't imagine any commanding officer who wouldn't feel the
obligation to fight for his or her command.  So just let me lead the way,
and make sure I don't get shot in the back for my efforts.  Deal?"

"Damn straight," she replied, adjusting the rifle as they readied to move
on.

Mason nodded, again suppressing an unprofessional smile.  "I can see some
comms nodes popping up on the network.  It looks like the radio codes are
being disseminated."  He looked at Oliver.  "Let's double-check the-"  His
head snapped the other way and he stood still, quiet.

In graceful silence, Michah followed his gaze with her own and the barrel of
her rifle.

Mason pushed his rifle behind him on the sling, and pulled his sidearm.
Combat in close quarters dictated smaller weaponry for maneuverability, and
though smaller weapons were typically less powerful, point blank range
multiplied /any/ weapon's damage.  Mason advanced towards the primary
entrance, holding a hand up for Oliver to hold post and take cover.

She nodded to convey understanding and moved to the side of a console and
crouched behind, leveling the rifle over the seat of the chair, intent upon
the doorway Mason was approaching.

Pistol at the ready in front of him, Mason checked both ways of the outer
hallway, then crossed and tapped the door's console.  It was still locked.
He cocked his head to the side and motioned to Oliver to 'hold post'.  Then
he crept along the wall, down the hallway, and out of sight.

She knew to obey, but it made her nervous to have him out of sight. How
could she watch his back. A silent moment passed, then a shot zapped loud
and illuminated the direction Mason had went.  A roar resounded behind
Oliver as a Klingon charged with a warrior's blade ready to steal her life.

Her response to the shot in the hallway saved her life. She surged forward
intending to rush to the doorway, effectively taking her out of the
Klingon's bat'leth, which crashed to its mark, which was now the middle of
the seat of the chair over which she had been using for cover. Likewise, the
Klingon's over confident bellowing anticipated, rather than punctuated his
death blow, and Michah spun around, the butt of the rifle digging into her
left breast.

Her mind shifted into some heretofore unknown sub-gear and she pulled back
on the trigger. A staccato burst of fire erupted from the weapon and she was
conscious of keeping a tight circular range of fire. She watched as the
Klingon shuddered as each pulse drilled into his armor. Now in a killing
rage, he gave up trying to extricate the bat'leth blade from the remains of
the seat of the chair and he reached instead for his assassins weapon, the
kut'luch.

This detail did not, of course, register with Michah, who merely saw a flash
of bright metal. She stumbled back, two-stepped, and fell to the floor on
her butt. The warrior was now determined to not just kill, but to inflict as
much fear and pain as possible before permitting death. Therefore, he did
not throw the knife, which the human female would not have been able to
escape. He bolted forward, prepared to thrust the weapon into the object of
his hatred.

She knew in that instant that this was either the last move she would ever
make, or the first move of the rest of her life. She pulled the rifle
tighter into her body, looked dead into her enemy's eyes and pulled the
trigger. She watched in awe as the first projectile entered his forehead and
saw the blood spray in a fan behind him. The second or third pulse opened up
a ragged, but strangely clean, oval hole in his left cheek. More blood sped
away from the back of his head. His eyes held his intended victim steady and
Hard. They sparkled, opened wide and he used the last of his energy and life
to shift his balance forward, fell hard on his knees and lay down, face
first, on Michah's legs.

The pain was hot, but not searing like she had expected as she saw the blade
slice neatly into the fabric of her pants on the outside of her left thigh,
missing the bulk of flesh. It was not a puncture, just a superficial wound
that might or might not even require stitches. She stared at the scene for a
microsecond before pulling up her right foot, planting it in the beast's
shoulder and shoving him back. The wound stung was the metal was dragged
free of her skin. The pain made her angry and she pushed again until she was
free. Then like someone had flipped a switch, her attention was totally
focused on Mason's situation. She flipped herself around, prepared to meet
the battle in the corridor.

A form staggerd backward in the hallway and in front of the door, which put
him in the open of the entranceway to the command center and Oliver's field
of view.  Another form emerged, horizontal in the air, and planted both feet
into the chest of the first.  The first flew backward as if yanked by a
truck, out of sight.  Mason rolled where he landed into the command center
as Klingon disruptor fire strafed the deck where he had lain.  He pulled his
rifle around as he stood and pushed himself back to kneel at the entranceway
and unleash a series of short, controlled bursts that silenced the oncoming
fire.  He looked at Oliver, only a moment's pause to assess her situation,
and gestured for her to advance to his postition and cover the other way
down the hallway where the dropkick victim had been sent.

All of her Starfleet field training had been unleashed and she instinctively
slinked ahead into position, her rifle at ready, her injured leg completely
forgotten. The feet of the Klingon were motionless just inside her field of
view. She nodded back to Mason, letting him know that she had the enemy
covered. But the trace of movement caught her eye before Mason moved.
Something deep inside warned her she didn't have time to warn him to stay
put. The boots were were gone.

Though a part of her was scared to the point of panic, another calmer part
took a steady grip on the rifle and spun out into the hallway fixing her aim
at the hulking figure that now stood, weaving and unsteady, but very
conscious about 3 meters away. "Shit, not again," she said without hearing,
as her back slammed into the wall opposite the doorway.

Using the stability of that wall, she brought the rifle properly to her
shoulder, sighting accurately, and opened fire. The first few shots impacted
the Klingon's  shoulder and spun him to his left. But he was able to correct
and head for her again with his head low, like a battering ram. This
effectively put his head in the middle of her largest target, his chest. He
died from a bullet to the brain and fell, staring at the floor advancing up
to him.

Michah panned the entire 180 degrees of the hallway, high on adrenalin and
fear. She finally allowed her eyes to rest for a moment on the motionless
body of the Klingon, her second kill of the day, before returning to the
continual survey of the hallway, up and down, left and right. Luckily, no
more motion, no more sound, no more enemy, as her hands began to shake and
her teeth to chatter as if she were icy cold. Still, she could not stop the
incessant reconnaissance of the hallway.

Mason's hand on her weapon arm seemed to pull her from her trance.  "Stand
down, Captain," he said calmly.  When he was satisfied she had come back
from that place, he returned his hand to his rifle.  "My apologies for
letting that other one get to you back there," he said.  "I knew there was
more than one, I wasn't expecting six. There's one left, though, and I need
to get my pistol back.  Moreover, we need to figure out how they got in
after my team secured the building.  So we're going Oscar Mike, 'On the
Move'.  You ready, Ma'am?"

She stared into his eyes for a moment and took a deep breath, letting it out
slowly. "Aye. I've got your back."

-----
Capt Michah Oliver 
Starfleet Commanding Officer
New Darwin Colony 
&
Major Mason, K.
2nd Expeditionary Team, MACO
ESS Constitution
(apb Robert)