Yesterday, 07:23 PM
Artemis walked into the holodeck -stomped, really- allowing her thoughts and mood to turn stormy again. She knew it. She knew it. That damn Trill hadn’t gotten away because she lost him; he hadn’t gotten away because he stupidly crawled into a duct and got burned alive and turned into an untraceable pile of ashes; and he hadn’t gotten away because he was smarter than she was. Thanks to the dogged efforts of the more scientifically-minded, there was now a theory of what had happened to the sorry excuse for a man. Time travel. She didn’t like it more than anyone else, and certainly hated using it as an excuse, but during the Race of First Contact, they had gone through an anomoly that had forced parts of the ship into different parts of the past. Before the whole concept made her head hurt, it made a sort of sense that had someone theoretically moved between time-bubbles, they could have unintentionally -or intenionally?- gotten stuck.
That didn’t help Art’s spiraling thoughts.
Had Tomer known about the time-travel-causing anomoly? Had that been why he had chosen this ship to impersonate an Ambassadorial assistant? Tomer most likely wasn’t his real name, but they had nothing else to call him. Or had this been a crime of opportunity? Had he known he was about to be found out, and slipped into the past as a way of escape? What else had he done that Art didn’t even know about?
“Computer,” She said through gritted teeth, “Load program ‘Kaden Execise One-Two-Five’ and start with a delay of three seconds.”
The Security Chief found herself with her back against a wall, a hand pressed into her chest, and a weapon pointed at her head. Good. This was how she felt. There were four assailants surrounding her; which one did she go for first? The one restricting her? Or the one with the weapon? Besides feeling the pain of it pressing into her head, she had to assume they were all armed. She had to act without thinking, had to strategize without getting herself killed. That meant a quick punch to the abdomen of the person on her left, causing the phaser-like weapon to drop, and due to the closeness of the person holding her against the wall, a headbutt square against their weaker skull. She gained precious little space, which the other two filled almost instantly, their own fists flying towards her. She ducked and turned, crouching and hitting both against their kneecaps. She hadn’t even looked at their faces yet to see what species they were – all she knew was that the one that had been holding her against the wall had been vaguely humanoid.
A punch from behind her brought her upright again, the blow landing in the small of her back. A blind donkey kick met something solid, pushing it back and away from her. Art wanted to turn, to face the three enemies that were now behind her, but the movement cost her. From the side, a closed fist met with her nose, an unfortunately lucky angle that made the soft tissue give way to blood that poured down her face. There was no time to pause though, as someone had both her arms, and was pulling them behind her. Another grabbed her between the legs, and she snarled like a feral animal. She leaned back, putting her weight on the person behind her, launching herself up and using both legs to kick the person away from her. He hit the stone wall she had been against, the satisfying crunching sound of a skull being cracked echoing around them. Artemis couldn’t stop to appreciate it though, as she was too busy turning and grabbing the person that had been holding her arms.
Three left. She grabbed the front of the enemy’s shirt, holding him close as she threw her punch. This time, she aimed for the throat, and she felt everything collapse as she drove her fist through. The faceless foe tried to gasp for air, falling backwards as the wheezing sound signaled his end of life. Whirling, Art tried to find the two that were left. She couldn’t see them. Where had they gone? Her heart pounded, and the sound of blood rushing in her ears mixed with the sound of rain, which was now coming down in heavy sheets, accompanied by booming thunder overhead. The mostly-Klingon heart sank: she now had no visibility, and would not be able to hear any assailant coming.
There was no choice: she would have to let them have the first move.
==To be continued…… ==
That didn’t help Art’s spiraling thoughts.
Had Tomer known about the time-travel-causing anomoly? Had that been why he had chosen this ship to impersonate an Ambassadorial assistant? Tomer most likely wasn’t his real name, but they had nothing else to call him. Or had this been a crime of opportunity? Had he known he was about to be found out, and slipped into the past as a way of escape? What else had he done that Art didn’t even know about?
“Computer,” She said through gritted teeth, “Load program ‘Kaden Execise One-Two-Five’ and start with a delay of three seconds.”
The Security Chief found herself with her back against a wall, a hand pressed into her chest, and a weapon pointed at her head. Good. This was how she felt. There were four assailants surrounding her; which one did she go for first? The one restricting her? Or the one with the weapon? Besides feeling the pain of it pressing into her head, she had to assume they were all armed. She had to act without thinking, had to strategize without getting herself killed. That meant a quick punch to the abdomen of the person on her left, causing the phaser-like weapon to drop, and due to the closeness of the person holding her against the wall, a headbutt square against their weaker skull. She gained precious little space, which the other two filled almost instantly, their own fists flying towards her. She ducked and turned, crouching and hitting both against their kneecaps. She hadn’t even looked at their faces yet to see what species they were – all she knew was that the one that had been holding her against the wall had been vaguely humanoid.
A punch from behind her brought her upright again, the blow landing in the small of her back. A blind donkey kick met something solid, pushing it back and away from her. Art wanted to turn, to face the three enemies that were now behind her, but the movement cost her. From the side, a closed fist met with her nose, an unfortunately lucky angle that made the soft tissue give way to blood that poured down her face. There was no time to pause though, as someone had both her arms, and was pulling them behind her. Another grabbed her between the legs, and she snarled like a feral animal. She leaned back, putting her weight on the person behind her, launching herself up and using both legs to kick the person away from her. He hit the stone wall she had been against, the satisfying crunching sound of a skull being cracked echoing around them. Artemis couldn’t stop to appreciate it though, as she was too busy turning and grabbing the person that had been holding her arms.
Three left. She grabbed the front of the enemy’s shirt, holding him close as she threw her punch. This time, she aimed for the throat, and she felt everything collapse as she drove her fist through. The faceless foe tried to gasp for air, falling backwards as the wheezing sound signaled his end of life. Whirling, Art tried to find the two that were left. She couldn’t see them. Where had they gone? Her heart pounded, and the sound of blood rushing in her ears mixed with the sound of rain, which was now coming down in heavy sheets, accompanied by booming thunder overhead. The mostly-Klingon heart sank: she now had no visibility, and would not be able to hear any assailant coming.
There was no choice: she would have to let them have the first move.
==To be continued…… ==