USS Orion

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Fight Club

Posted on Thu Jul 5th, 2018 @ 8:49pm by Lieutenant JG Ozanna Isuri
Edited on on Thu Jul 5th, 2018 @ 9:08pm

Mission: Mission 1: Unscheduled Madness
Location: Outside of Sickbay
Timeline: Immediately following "Making a Statement"

"Take your time, Ma'am," Ozzie said, excusing herself from the office and heading for the door, shaking her head at the reports. Taken by themselves, they were just minor injuries from the medical side or scuffles and paranoia from the security perspective.

A bunch of nothing adding up to a lot of something.

"Isuri to CPO Vella," Ozzie tapped into her combadge, hailing the leading Non-com in her department.

"Yes, Lieutenant?"

"Chief, can you please remove PO1 Dagor from active duty and have him report to the counselor."

"Already done, Ma'am."

"Really? How did you—"

"Dagor came into the office swearing out Lt. K'vok for taking head shots at him in a sparing match that K'vok says never happened. K'vok was on duty at the time. I took action on it. Not to worry."


"Did you see we had a rash of over a dozen kids hitting the emergency call button for various versions of monsters under the bed all night? I sent someone to the primary and secondary classrooms to talk about about what a real emergency is."

"Altha." Ozzie rubbed a hand over her mouth and pulled a little on her lower lip. "It really is like a double full moon on Terra Nova. I'm going to send you over some files that Doctor Hightower and I connected between our security reports and her patient records. Bring in beta shift and brief the team leads on the activity. There's something in the air, I think. I'm going to set up a talk with the Captain to decide if we need to take any—"

There was a shadow in the hall as Ozzie made it outside of Sickbay. It moved too fast for a walker. Ozzie's heartbeat skipped and she shifted her stance and drew her phaser. Another shadow from her peripheral vision made her spin to look at the other end of the hall. She strode to catch up to it and looked around the corner, down the junction.

Vella cleared her throat on the comm line. "Lieutenant? Something wrong?"

"Sorry, Chief. It's nothing. Isuri out."

She holstered her phaser. Because she had to not become a headcase like everyone else. She couldn't shake the feeling something really big was about to break even though she told herself it was just the telepathic tension, the anxiety in the air that was like a background radio station she couldn't turn down. It wasn't her. It was everyone else. People losing their cool, seeing things that weren't there. You couldn't always reason with psych cases. And if it was getting to good guys like Dagor, it was compromising her own teams. She'd almost rather deal with the straightforward problem of boarding parties.

Isuri turned around to start for Sickbay again but the passage ahead was filled with a strangely shifting transporter light wave. Three Orion marauders of considerable bulk transported to corridor beside Sickbay.

Reacting defensively, she ducked behind a bulkhead strut and drew her side arm again. It wasn't panic she felt. It was countless hours of training kicking in. She was already calculating. They probably hadn't seen her before they'd completely materialized. How had they gotten aboard? She tapped her badge in an emergency protocol to set off a silent call for a fire team to her location.

There was no time to waste. Better to act early than to allow the intruders to take up position and gain hostages. Certain that there would be back-up on the way, Isuri stepped boldly out of hiding: no warning given, phaser extended and firing, striding directly at them to close the gap. She took out two marauders before they caught on to her, but the third raised his none-too-friendly-looking disruptor with a handsomely devilish grin.

"Mine is not set to stun," he threatened in a gravelly voice.

Face to face, neither one of them lowered their weapons. At first.

"Okay," Isuri started to bend and set her weapon down at his feet. But being as close as they were, she came up sharply under and inside of his gun arm, turning her back to him taking him by the wrist to forcibly break the elbow backwards over her shoulder.

He reacted with a howl, dropped his gun, and delivered a left hook into her gut. She felt the blow, but angled herself to form her smaller mass into a ramp to leverage his bulk and twisted him around to land him stomach first on the deck where she pressured his arm to hold him down. Reaching for her mag cuffs on her belt, but in that moment, when she took the pressure off to get the cuffs, he rolled her over and smacked her head into the floor, grabbing her by the throat and throttling, whipping her by her neck.

"Gonna — Be — Like — That." She gasped under him between each thumping. The funny thing was this was exactly how she'd imagined being under an Orion Pirate. Other people had naughty daydreams of such liaisons that didn't spring out of extensive defense courses taken at the community center while aspiring to become a police officer...

Meanwhile she jabbed her thumbs into the radial nerves of his wrists to release his grasp, and hip thrust him to lift him from his knees and throw his balance just long enough to roll him again, coming back to her feet with the phaser she'd dropped, aiming it at him while he was down.

From her superior position— eyes narrowed angrily, arm extended— she fired decisively.

The fire team came around the corner in a rush. Why, she wondered, weren't they drawing their weapons? When she looked back down, the pirate and his stunned mates were gone. The floor was clear. Except for three little burn marks where her phaser had scorched carpet and bulkheads.

The team had just witnessed her firing at... nothing.

"Computer reports Starfleet weapons fire. Where are the intruders, Ma'am?"

She staggered for a moment, lightheaded and sore. Her hand went to a tender spot on the back of her head under her very disheveled hair. She grimaced reflexively. That was real pain. But everything else? Had she only imagined it? It had felt so real. But now she sensed no intruders. Not with telepathy or vision, blurry though it was.

Ozzie reached down to pick up her cuffs, inexplicably lying on the ground beside her dignity. "It was a drill. Call it off."

The team of four looked between one another, uncertainly.

"But Ma'am, you fired."

"Just on stun, for, uh, authenticity."

Doctor Hightower stepped out of sickbay, ready to go as planned.

"Drill's over. Good response time. You're dismissed, crewmen." Isuri ordered more forcefully. She was still so new to everyone that they didn't know what to expect from her. If she said it was a drill, they'd have to accept that.

"Yes. Ma'am." They left, but not without looking back over their shoulders with confusion.

Once they were alone Isuri came clean with Hightower. "Doctor," she said, holding out her hand with blood on her fingers. "It's happening to me too."



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