"Grim Reaper"

[Kansas 0]

02.15.09

ISS Agincourt ICC-81762

“Grim Reaper”

 

Present Time

ISS Agincourt: Orbital Vector

Forward Observation Lounge

 

Three crewmembers of the ISS Agincourt had been lost. Three wasn’t a very large number, and it wasn’t as if several squads had been compromised or shredded during the ground engagement. But the price was high enough.

 

Three of the crew were dead because of her orders.

 

Crewman Chapman was still alive, yet critical in the medical bay and he probably would not last through the night according the CMO. Crewman Talos was dead, sliced clean through from his abdomen up to his neck with a Rihan battle sword. The newly installed Security Chief, who had been in charge of the department for all of two weeks, if that, took a sniper shot to the chest and had been dead before she hit the ground.

 

And the chief bodyguard to Caitian Executive Officer JoNs, her protector, her confidant, the irrepressible Master Chief, was among these casualties as well.

 

The golden furred feline’s marine commander and sponsor would expect answers and a detailed report on the operation from her young charge: squad movements, the general numbers of the rebels and the sort of guerrilla or para-military methods that they employed, and an outline of the field command decisions that she had made. Her sponsor would also expect some detailed personal answers, delivered verbally by the Caitian herself.

 

Why did she zig when she should have zagged? Were the troop movements coordinated efficiently enough? There were so many command and tactical factors to consider, both before and after an operation.

 

At some point since she had beamed up from the planet, JoNs had picked up Colonel Harper’s personal guards, Norales and Davlin, and the two men continued to shadow her like two Tele-Raptor birds on the hunt for food. Even Lieutenant Mical, her surviving bodyguard, had informed the feline via a discreet communication over the encrypted wireless channel that JoNs and her personal guards frequently employed that the Andorian officer and guard had been ordered directly by Harper to renege on her body guarding duties for JoNs until further notice, and that Norales and Davlin would handle the protection detail temporarily.

 

For their part, the two guards had been shadowing her for the better part of an hour, and had made no formal move to forcibly escort her to the ships commanding officer.

 

Commander Kansas JoNs stood at the large port window showcasing the planet that the Agincourt currently orbited. The planet was beautiful…from a distance. The whole mission had started out as such a routine jaunt, and then had rapidly deteriorated within a few hours after the security squads had beamed down.

 

The feline officer had beamed back onto the ship, accompanied the bodies of the downed men and women to the morgue, and then quickly grabbed a sonic shower to scrub the dirt and filth from herself.

 

Now, she stood clean, neat and crisp in her uniform gazing out the port window. But she still felt soiled and strung out.

 

Kansas roared.

 

It was a gut wrenching howl of pain, sorrow, and regret. It was also a roar informing the warriors of the Barge of the Dead that a great warrior was to be joining them. Her balled up paw impacted with the transparent aluminum window, and she felt a couple of bones pop and then the pain.

 

Davlin had leapt backwards and drawn his disruptor at the outburst, whereas Davlin maintained his composure and slowly walked over to the grieving XO. “Sir. We have orders to escort you to Colonel Harper.”

 

She merely nodded once, her gaze still rooted on the deceptively calm planet rotating below their orbit.

 

Norales spared a glance back at Davlin (who still had his disruptor out and aimed at JoNs) and then turned back to the feline officer. He reached into one of the pant leg cargo pockets of his fatigues and produced a bandanna with a subtle urban camo pattern. Quickly and without a word he wrapped the felines injured paw, and she was content to let him do so. It was an uncommon gesture of kindness from a Terran human to an alien of the lower classes.

 

He spoke quietly to her. “Commander, I am sorry for your loss, but we can stall no longer; we must escort you to the Colonel now.”

 

She merely nodded without making eye contact with the guard, her sharp green eyes still fixated on the planet below.

 

Two Hours Earlier

ISS Agincourt: Orbital Vector

Lower Decks

 

JoNs walked down the gray paneled corridor with Davlin and Norales flanking her, but still she only made a minor mental note regarding the presence of the bodyguard escorts.

 

What if the security and marine forces had fallen back? Would the Master Chief still be alive? What if they had moved to the left or right flank areas, retreating as they held off the rebel assault forces? Would the casualties have been minor? What if she had ordered a full retreat as ordered? Would the front line have held without the extra effort of the security team?

 

Too many questions. Not enough answers.

 

Five Hours Earlier

Romulan Border Territory

Sigma ch’Fhaevan Colony: Main City

Current Designation of Colony Government: Under Empire Rule

 

In her thirteen years of service, Kansas had never been in this bad of a ground engagement. Eighty percent of her duties had always involved ship to ship tactical engagements, patrols, brig duty, or maintaining the safety parameters on the ship (translation – no assassinations). When she had accepted the position of Executive Officer, her duties had shifted accordingly to those directly involved with overseeing all the shipboard departments and administration protocols. The remaining twenty percent of her duties still included spearheading or participating in the ground skirmishes as the ships XO.

 

This was bad.

 

The blood, the dirt, the screams, and the viciously gleeful resistance encountered by the rebellious locals…oh my dear gods. JoNs had assumed command of the Security ground forces after Logan had been taken out, and the situation just kept spiraling downward from there.

 

The mission had started out well enough; the Agincourt had been dispatched to a Romulan subject world in order to check into the production values of the colony. It had been such a ‘boring’ mission that Harper had thrown a rare treat to the security department – a chance for them to show the colors, so to speak, rather then the marines. Security had beamed down and done several sweeps of the village to insure that there were no insurgents or problems, with the Marine squads maintaining the perimeter area around the target city.

 

The colony itself was a combination of modern and ancient dwellings. Stone structures and open air markets sat side by side with steel gray pre-fab constructions. JoNs and the security patrols had maintained a presence in the village, flashing the scary weapons and flying the flag of the Empire.

 

And then all hell had broken loose.

 

The village had hidden a deadly secret: Rihannsu rebels. The green bloods had attacked viciously and without warning, starting a pell mell running fight through the small streets. The weapons used were no different from the colony structures, a blending of ancient and modern; modern disruptors, bladed weapons and ballistic weapons were all employed with suicidal abandon.

 

The Wolf, Dingo and Coyote Squads had all regrouped in the town square area, next to a large carved fountain that JoNs would have considered pretty if she wasn’t too busy with keeping her skin intact and the teams alive.

 

Her communications specialist turned to her, his attention divided between the feline and the chatter in his earpiece. “Sir! The Marines are mobilizing. ETA five minutes, and we are to fall back per orders from the main bridge …” the relayed message was interrupted when a grenade round hit and exploded and Talos went flying. Kansas and the others dove behind whatever cover presented itself.

 

The Caitian snarled and then spoke into her wireless ear communications device. “Wolf and Coyote squads fall back to the beam down point. Mical! Go with them and you are in charge. Keltex! You and the Dingos to me…”

 

Another round of ballistics fire peppered the area, giving no quarter to the Imperial officers that were pinned down and rapidly running out of alternative options. The Marine squads needed to arrive and arrive soon.

 

Four Hours Earlier

Romulan Border Territory

Sigma ch’Fhaevan Colony: Main City

Inner Perimeter of the Town Square

 

In his almost fifty years of service, this battle ranked among the top five. The blood, the smell of fear, the tension, the action and the screams – Master Chief Keltex was in a true Klingon warrior’s element, and embraced the chaos of the glorious day. The marine enforcers had made planetfall, and were on the outskirts of the village working their way inward to the village square. Commander JoNs, Keltex, and Wolf squad had gone from long range weapons to hand to hand combat, going from house to house and alley to alley to engage the commandos employed by the Rihan rebels.

 

It was a glorious battle!

 

The big silver haired Klingon swiped his batleth sword at a Rihan insurgent, almost cleaving the woman in two; her lifes blood sprayed outward, coating the Klingon in green. He roared triumphantly, and ran at her male partner with a manic grin on his face.

 

A snarled feline voice erupted in his ear as he punched another Rihan in the nose, breaking the bone and cartilage with an audible crack. “Wolf Squad! Bug out and regroup at the beam down point, the marines are inbound!” Keltex turned and trotted from the building to link up with his comrades, leaving four bodies in his wake as he exited through the shattered doorway.

 

Kansas was located at a position on the far side of the inner perimeter area, and she slung her rifle on her shoulder and pointed a bit paw and snapped off orders to the team members that were closest to her to set up a makeshift bunker area. Several low level cheers erupted from the group when they all spotted who was emerging from a building in the distance.

 

Commander JoNs turned to see the Master Chief emerge on the other side of the square, just as the bullet from that sniper rifle exploded his cranium and sent purple blood, white bone, and brain gray matter splattering across the building exterior directly behind him.

 

“CHIEF!” The golden furred felines anguished cry echoed across the area and reverberated off the buildings.

 

Kansas broke cover and bolted across the town square, covering the distance in seconds and easily leaping past the semi-damaged marble fountain that functioned as the towns showpiece of the square as well as the hub of the watering system. Several enemy disruptor shots peppered the ground as the feline ran; the insurgent gunners trying to get another kill.

 

Kansas didn’t care; she just wanted to get to her big protector.

 

Several voices exploded at once over the landing party wireless comms that all team members currently wore in their ear. The onslaught of overlapping voices were canceling each other out, but the basic gist was the same and one of the squad leaders managed to get the order out loud and clear, ”Somebody grab her! The Execs gone predatory bat sh*t and we still have enemy fire peppering the area! She’s exposed! Move!”

 

A big security boy from the Dingo Security squad managed to tackle and drag the hissing feline officer back to cover behind a retaining wall set just off the main square.

 

“Sir! Commander! If you don’t calm down and re-take the commanding field officers position, I’m authorized to shoot you! Do you understand me! Sir …”

 

JoNs broke free of the young man but clamped a paw in thanks and acknowledgement on the humans shoulder. With her free paw she grabbed at her wireless ear set and held the microphone feed closer to her muzzle.

 

“All teams! I want these sniper bastards taken out! The marine squads are on their way, and we will hold this gods forsaken town until the Devil Dogs arrive! Take out those fraggin’ Qi’Jihana bastards NOW!” The feline Execs tone had gone into a deep growl, and it was hard to understand her what with the growl and the cussing, but the security teams were well trained and understood the basic procedures of the battlefield; JoNs was calling for a standard web pattern of counter fire.

 

“Now that’s what I’m talkin’ about sir!” The younger man, whom she had mistaken for a Human but was in fact a Zaldan judging by his webbed hand, sighted down on his own phaser rifle at the houses that surrounded the square. “As soon as I have a clear target shot on a hostile, they are toast sir!”

 

“What’s your name?” Her voice betrayed her, and there was some emotion breaking through the stern tone.

 

“Petty Officer Zalano Commander. Transferred last month and this is my first hard combat with the Agincourt. I’m going to stick with you to keep you out of trouble sir!” Kansas immediately picked up on the fact that his manner was brusque but he meant what he said and his intentions were genuine. He’d make a good enlisted officer for the ‘Court.

 

Kansas had been that enthusiastic … a lifetime ago.

 

Ignoring the gnawing sadness in her gut, Kansas focused on the here and now and sighted down on her own rifle and worked in tandem with the PO as they covered their section of the distant buildings, picking off whoever stuck their head out at the wrong time.

 

Present Time

ISS Agincourt: Orbital Vector

Senior Crew Quarters: Main Entry Corridor

 

The feline senior officer continued walking with her escorts, her mind blown and still suffering from the delayed shell shock. How could one simple, mundane check on the locals operation go so out of control in such a short amount of time?

 

No matter how jumbled the Caitian Exec’s thoughts were, Keltex’s last statement kept coming back to haunt her.

 

“Sir, are you certain this is wise?”

 

The feline commander and her senior enlisted officer had taken cover behind a storage shed; chaos rained all around them. “No, Master Chief it is not wise to stay after a general bug out order has been given by the Chief Shark Lady,” Kansas popped another full charge into her phaser rifle, “but if all of us retreat, the insurgents’ll just pick us off one by one as we retreat And if we lose this town square, the marines will just walk right into a pre-set ambush and have to retake the area anyway. We stay and hold the main line while we can, on my orders. It’s my responsibility Keltex, and I understand what I’m undertaking …”

 

Her tortured inner thoughts raced back to the present again. It had been her ground command. Her responsibility, it had been her responsibility. Three of the Agincourt personnel were compromised and dead.

 

Lonely are the leaders of men, for they are damned if they do, and damned if they do not.

 

Unknown Time

Unknown Location

 

Master Chief Petty Officer Keltex, of House Lokan, stood on the dock, watching as the large nautical transport vessel of ancient design came looming out of the fog. The ship was jet black, and its sharp angles and general design reminded one of a dragon about to strike.

 

It was a clear, crisp night, the smell of the sea wafted on the air, and the Klingon was going home.

 

He raised his batleth above his head, and roared, letting the other warriors on the Barge of the Dead know that he was coming to them.

 

An answering chorus of strong voices answered him from the distant ship as it traveled closer and closer to the docking port. The afterlife was to welcome a new warrior to the battle grounds this night.

Edited February 18, 2009 by STSF Kansas