No Man Left Behind Part I

Posted on 16 May 2011 @ 12:33am by Commodore Da`nal of the House of Varal & Captain Reva Madhava

1,386 words; about a 7 minute read

Moving through the crowded corridors, Stone tried as best he could not to hit anyone with his duffle bag as he pushed his way through the sea of sentient lifeforms. He looked around and saw something eerily familiar in their eyes, the look of hopeless desperation that is common to all refugees from war zones. He'd seen it enough to know that none of them would respond to a kind request to squeeze over this way or that, so he did his best to push through and not appear overly rude. It had been like this since he stepped off the high speed courier vessel that had brought him to SB-517. The picket line of ships has slowed his progress a little bit but he has still arrived a little before he thought he would. Shifting the weight of the bag on his shoulder, and pulling at his civilian clothes a little to unbind them from the strap, he moved over to the side of the corridor and backed into a doorway so he could take a little break from the crowed.

Running his hands through his hair, he glanced at the scars on his arms, each a different memory earned from a lifetime of service on dozens of worlds. Taking a deep breath....he looked back out at the packed corridor dreading stepping back out into that crowd. He could just site to site transport, but along with the civilian clothes, refraining from that is supposed to help him maintain a low profile as he reported for his new assignment...whatever it was. Swallowing the curse rising in this throat, he took a step out into the undulating mass of people and disappeared.

* * *Admiral's Office* * *

"...and where are they now?" Amber L'Berr sighed heavily and flipped a laminate sheet off her desk. A cat chased it as it floated to the floor. "How difficult is it, really, for men to be on time?"

The Admiral's Yeoman, who'd been with her for years, shooed the cat away from the laminate and picked it up from the floor. As he straightened, he shot a glare at the Admiral and tsk'd. "Amber, you've seen how crowded the gangways are, not to mention the corridors and public spaces from there to ...almost to here!" It was true, even the Admiral's office had a visitation rate on par with Grand Central Terminal in its heyday. "I'd hazard a guess that they've avoided site-to-site transports for whatever reason."

"Bloody inconvenient...," she grumbled.

"Right, because it isn't as if you can't read a report or sign off on a request during this time," Marks chided her. "Here, here's one from the Bombay. Sign it."

"What's their request?"

"You don't trust me when I tell you to just sign it?"

"Well...," she rolled her eyes and quickly scanned the Bombay's request. "Okay, fine," she conceded and signed the request. "Now, where are they?" she asked, sending Marks into a fit of eye rolling.

***Corridor Outside the Admiral's Office***

A little note chimed over the intercom as the guard detail outside the office called into the Yeoman. "Sir, there is a man here to see the Admiral. He's carrying orders but has refused to produce ID. He say's he's sorry he's late, but you were expecting him. He said you'd know who he was." In the background you can hear the other guard still questioning the man. "You want me to deal with it?"

* * *Admiral's Office* * *

"No, send him in, we've been waiting for him," Yeoman Marks answered. He raised a brow at the Admiral.

"About time," she grumbled. As the Marine entered, she smiled tightly and said, "Welcome to SB 517, Major Stone. We're waiting on Captain Da`nal as well, since he'll be transporting your team and coordinating dropping you on the planet. Please, have a seat." She waved for Yeoman Marks to get the Major a drink.

Stone stepped in and propped his bag against the wall just inside the door. Drawing himself up to attention with snap. "Major Stone reporting as ordered Ma'am." Taking a seat when requested, he shifted around a little uncomfortably. At the mention of a drink, he simple simply glanced at Marks, "Just water will be great Yeoman." Looking back at the Admiral, he had a grim look on his face, almost like he was holding a bitter flavor in his mouth, but refused to let it out.

"I didn't get alot of details when I received encoded orders I couldn't access them myself, I had to go to the intelligence office to sit at a hyper-secure terminal. What did they pull me into?"

[Docking level]

Da`nal stepped from the docking umbilical and the security guard there nodded in acknowledgement. There were platoons of Marines information being briefed on the arrangement made for them on the Achilles. It was going to be tight quarters for a bit but only until time to deploy. Another thirty-six hours of prep, 24 if he could push his people a little hardered. Flight time of 12 hours given the unusual configuration of the attachments being made to the ship and then they would arrive at Mercer.

He had paused to look over at the Marines at a few officers saw this and nodded his way. Near the Marines were several other Starfleet officers; from the looks of them they were volunteers as well. Da`nal need to get to the Admiral's office but as he turned to make his way to the lift the was a Marine approaching him.

"Sir, I'm 1st Lieutenant John Riegar, Platoon leader of the Myrmidons. I was told to report to you as soon as I was on board." John said as he snapped to attention and saluted.

"Ah yes...Lt Riegar. I was notified of your transfer. No doubt you heard of the call for volunteers, but if you'd like to accompany me you can get all the detail of what is about to unfold."

"Aye sir." John said as he began to follow the Captain. "I have a couple of questions if you don't mind sir."

Da`nal indicated the nearest lift. "I would be surprised if you didn't. Come, we can talk on the way."

As the doors closed he announce there destination then turned to the Marine. "What are your questions Lieutenant?"

Jack nodded, "Well sir, I will admit that this isn't my first walk through this particular grove, but I will say I've never encountered this species, the Kzinti, what are they like. What can I expect when me and my time encounter them?"

Da`nal had never encountered them himself, face to but he had done his homework. "Their males average 7 to 9 feet in height, fur covered, felinoid warrior race. They have some telepaths, but use them for control or combat. They have great strength and have no reservations about using their claws or fangs in a fight. Think of an over sized Klingon with claws, a bad attitude and a 200 year score to settle."

Jack nodded, "So what are the general Rules of Engagement sir?" Jack knew as much as anyone, that the ROE wasn't always the easiest thing to comprehend. It could be set down to fire only when you needed to and you could be thrust into a situation where you needed to shoot in order to save either your life or someone else's.

"For those involved in Operation Beachhead. Well those rules are about to be discussed. For the Achilles..." The words still chafted his pride. "...we are under orders not to engage the enemy. We are to gather intel while running silent and under cloak." The lift opened as they arrived on the command deck. Together they made their way to the Admiral's office.

John nodded, he knew all to well that the REMF's always liked to make the Marine's and soldier's lives living hell by making up poor excuses and making things difficult.
"Understood sir."

[Admiral's Office]

Upon entering the Admiral's offices Da'nal saw Marks' familiar features behind the desk playing receptionist. "I see she still hasn't managed to get rid you yet."

"Never will, either," Marks smirked then warned, "She's been waiting for you, Captain Da`nal."

"Excellent." Glancing to his new platoon leader. "With me Lietenant."

TBC

RSS Feed