Point Taken
Posted on Wed Jul 23rd, 2025 @ 4:44pm by Lieutenant Colonel Cornelius Tremble & Captain Larta Daughter of Shog
Edited on on Fri Jul 25th, 2025 @ 4:56pm
1,225 words; about a 6 minute read
Mission:
Episode 17 - Going Home
Location: Mik's Gym, holodeck 1 - Deck 5 - USS Pioneer
Timeline: MD001 1300 hrs
“This is going to hurt Neil,” Larta promised as she circled closer, Bat’leth sifting through the air in front of her, predatory grin tracing across her face.
“Do they measure those by how wide your ass has gotten polishing that ambassadorial chair, your worshipfulness, Neil bit back, as he faced his blood sister. “Though on second thought, you might need a bigger Bat’leth…” he kept his feet shoulder width apart and circled toward her left, knowing she was left handed.
He had a newly modified K77 hardened pulse rifle with a nine inch bayonet. He had the bayonet pointed at her chest in a high guard. As she swept out a slash with her weapon, Neil rocked back on his left foot, then used pushed forward in a sharp thrust, using the two and 1.7 meter weapon like short spear.
Larta saw the blade darting at her. She even expected it. What she hadn’t counted on was Neil’s speed and she was forced to dance back, cursing and her weapons hooks to try and snag in a swimming motion, pushing the odd spear kind of weapon away and attempting to hook it for a disarm. She stamped her foot on the gravel they were sparring on, trying to distract him.
Again she didn’t expect Neil to let the weapon momentarily snag. As she started to try and rip it from his hands.
Neil saw her go for the disarm, and twisted the rifle, disengaging the snag. He’d expected her maneuver and set his feet. As she committed, using her greater strength he pivoted and slammed the butt of the weapon toward her head.
Larta swore and tasted blood as Neil clocked her and she stumbled back, spitting blood and glaring at him, “Fancy strike, you clot” she said through swollen lips. As she got herself reset and pushed at him again, scything through a figure eight, causing Neil to dance back.
Wincing as one of her slashes caught him low across the thigh, Neil felt the training armor numb his leg and cause it to stiffen, simulating a wound. Moving defensively, he pushed and twisted with the center of his rifle using her momentum to push her out of position and attempted a spine strike with the butt.
Larta grunted and went to her knees as Neil’s blow caught her in the back and the torso portion of her armor stiffened and one of her hands let go of the Bat’leth as the strike momentarily paralyzed her. Then she choked as the bayonet’s razor sharp tip hammered through her chest and she stared down at it blinking as it was whisked back from her chest and she suddenly had a hard time breathing.
The Bat’leth dropped from her now nerveless fingers and she waited as her combat armor sealed the wound and pumped medicines into her. Within thirty seconds she was picking up her blade and turning grimly to Neil. “You’ll pay for that…”
And then Larta dropped as Neil shot her on full stun in the face.
Larta came to ten minutes later to see Neil sitting next to her, drinking from what looked like an ice cold bottle that was dripping freely as it slowly warmed in the gym’s air.
She nearly batted the bottle away when Neil offered it to her, but then thought again and took the bottle, sitting up to face him and draining it Then she tossed it at his head.
Laughing, Neil ducked easily and said, “I told you we should use simulated weapons for that, Larta.”
She scoffed at him and pulled herself into a crosslegged sitting position, “Warriors train for blood. And I did use a training weapon.”
Glancing at the cut on his thigh and the slices on his forearms, Neil said, “Yeah. You’d still have taken my head off.”
“I’d have apologized if that would have happened,” she assured him. Then she laughed and moved to crack her back.
“Is the FMC going to issues these now? She asked, picking up his rifle and examining it.
“Doubt it. Unless heavy hand to hand is foreseen and then most won’t like it. I doubt I’ll get much use of it while wearing our suits.” Shrugging, he continued, “But I’ve been wanting to try that outside of the holodeck.”
Putting the rifle back, she said, “Shooting me was cheating though.”
“I won, you lose. Deal.” Neil told her as he reached behind him and dug out two more of the Andorian Cream Ale’s and tossed her one. “That means you’ll be our guest exec aboard the Pioneer while I go straighten out the General’s Mobile Elements.”
“I was going to do that anyway,” she told him, taking the ale and staring at it for a moment before she she ripped the lid off, tossed it and drank down half the bottle. Her tongue actually froze for just the moment and when she blew her breath out, she could see her breath.
“Not bad,” she commented. “The question I want answered is when am I going to meet Jayna, Neil. You know that has to happen.”
Neil eyed Larta as he drank from his own bottle. “I’ve told her.” Movement caught his eye and he saw Mick and Rock watching from the sidelines while Baby shadow boxed in another corner. Briefly, he decided he’d need to tell Jon to SHUT the humor level for this match. He didn’t need Calendar’s of his blood sister floating around.
Bodies would hit the floor.
“With or without weapons,” he asked candidly.
Taking another drink, Larta said, “With of course. You like her so I don’t want to kill the poor dear. Just make sure she’s up to defending your house and subsequently, mine.” Looking at Neil steadily, she said, “You sure you’re serious about her? I don’t see any bruises, contusions or anything that would indicate she’s really fond of you.”
“We’ve got good medics,” Neil commented, keeping his gaze level. “Speaking of, I don’t see any on you either.”
Growling, Larta polished off her bottle and made a gimme gesture at Neil who obligingly dug out another bottle from the pail and tossed it over. “That’s the sad truth. Too many are scared or act like they’d be doing me a favor.” Then she had a thought and said, “Tell me. Is that Flarn still aboard the Pioneer?”
Neil nearly choked on his Ale, but nodded and waited for his tongue to unfreeze. “Yes, Gunnery Sergeant now.” Why?
Larta winked at him and said, “I might whistle him up. He looks fun.”
Neil blinked at that and offered her another Ale. “Just don’t break him too badly, yeah?”
Larta could only chuckle at him, then said "No promises," as she began to drink.
A Joint Post By
Lieutenant Colonel Cornelius Tremble
Executive Officer, USS Pioneer
Battalion Commander, The Cure
Captain Larta Daughter of Shog
Commanding Officer, Ram Cha'Par
RSS Feed