Addictions

Posted on Thu 24th Nov, 2016 @ 9:44pm by Colonel Horatio Drake

989 words; about a 5 minute read

Mission: Murder on the Silent Night Express
Location: Holodeck 24: Deck 1280
Timeline: MD-01: 0735

One of the advantages of being the CO was that you didn't have to stick to your shift pattern. Since returning with the Warspite Drake had felt increasingly frustrated at being stuck on the station. The addition of now having a murderer on the loose just compounded the issue. He needed to let off some steam.

The temperate jungle, less than two hundred metres in front of him, almost seemed to emit a mist. The silence would have been deafening and eerie if it wasn't for the sounds of birds and other unidentified animals. The heat was sweltering and the horizon a blur. He could already feel his BDU (Battle Dress Uniform) starting to stick to him... he was thankful he left his M3 body armour off. The added manoeuvrability and comfort would aid him greatly in the challenge that was about to present itself to him.

There was three weapons on the ground beside him, he knelt down and began by picking up the Ka-Bar (a standard Marine combat knife) and holstering it on his left leg. Next he reached for the Type 2 hand phaser and, similarly, holstered it on his left waist. Lastly he picked up the Marine Mk 17 Phaser Rifle... checked its power cell... and nestled it comfortably in his right shoulder, flicking up the targeting scope.

He waited for what seemed like minutes, despite being only seconds. Trying to control his breathing, he wiped a bead of sweat that was destined for his right eye. Then it began... a huge and burly Klingon, in full battle dress, jumped out from the foliage on the right hand side and started running towards him. Without hesitation, he pushed his finger on the trigger button and a ball of flaming, orange, photonic energy shot from the barrel of the rifle. Less than a second later, it slammed into the approaching Klingon, creating a burning hole in his chest. He fell to the ground immediately. Another one, on the left... one more carefully aimed shot dropped him just seconds later. This time, two emerged from the right... with an almost 'double tap' to the rifle, the two fell close to their first companion. Three now emerged from the middle... two dropped, the smell of burning flesh starting to fill the air. He incorrectly aimed the third shot and it just clipped his shoulder... after less than a second of recovery, he carried on forwards... Bat'Leth swinging in the air. Drake threw the rifle to the ground and drew his hand phaser, taking him out with a shot to the neck.

This time, six came out of the foliage at almost exactly the same time... all from different angles and all headed directly for him. He downed four of them with the hand phaser then, wanting the challenge and satisfaction, he threw it down to the ground and drew his Ka-Bar. The speed of the two approaching Klingons were marginally different, meaning one reached him seconds before the other. He could now see the whites of his eyes... he could see the almost animal instinct and seemingly inexplicable anger. He awkwardly raised his Bat'Leth and started to swing it, whilst still running... Drake ducked and, as the Klingon started to trip over him, threw him over his right shoulder... using his own energy against him. The second Klingon, who had been approaching in exactly the same manner, was not expecting his counterpart to be thrown to the ground and hesitated slightly in his approach, no doubt considering a different tactic. But his hesitation came too late and Drake used the precious seconds to take two giant leaps forward and slam his Ka-Bar directly into the Klingons neck. The look of surprise and defeat was evident... and almost sad... in his eyes. He knew that his friend would be recovering from his fall and knew that he had to keep moving. He twisted the knife and yanked it out... making a deep incision across his neck and cutting his wind pipe. He heard air escaping as he reclaimed his knife and turned to face the last challenger, as the more unfortunate of the two fell to the ground.

Whilst Drake's manuever was tactically sound, it wasn't executed fast enough. The first Klingon had not only recovered but was already flinging his Bat'Leth threw the air, in a forceful downward motion. Drake knew he had no time to fully dodge the blow, but could only minimise the inevitable damage. He started to move to the left, throwing himself into the air. He felt the blade of the Bat'Leth cut into the top of his right arm and slice a deep wound into it. As he felt the warm blood start to run down his sleeve he felt the exhilaration and almost orgasmic type pleasure that came with it. Since the death of Patrick, he had been unable to feel... it was as if the emotional side of him had just been shut down. The only feeling that he was still able to experience was pain... something that he had almost become addicted to since his death. Whether this was a self destructive tendency or a distraction tool, he didn't know... he knew that was a debate for another time.

Having got what he was here for, he knew it was time to end this. From his position on the ground he could see the curved handle of his hand phaser, resting less than a metre in front of him. He heard the roar from the Klingon as he lifted his blade to finish the job. He stretched his left arm out and, in one smooth motion, gripped the phaser, aimed it as the Klingons head and released the stream of destructive energy. The Klingon dropped.

"Computer, end simulation and re-engage safety protocols" he said, picking himself up and cradling him arm. His craving had been satisfied... for the time being.

 

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