#20 On Leave, But Not

Posted on Wed Jan 24th, 2024 @ 9:13pm by Lieutenant JG Sheyla {Meji}

Mission: Hijacked
Location: Starbase Danvers
Timeline: current

ON:

When the attack had first began on the beach, Doctor Sheyla had been in a white string bikini with a white sarong wrapped around her waist. As an Andorian, beaches were often times a bit too warm for her kind. Her dual circulatory system kept her plenty warm in cold environments, and it cooled her as best it could in standard environments, but it caused more perspiring so that the sweat could dry and be cooled by the breezes present to keep the flesh at a nominal temperature. Sheyla had been sitting at a table that was in the shade of the amphitheater and an administration building. The umbrella for the table was still open, for when the sun was at an angle to shine down on this area. But, being passed mid-day, the shade had changed to that of the buildings.

Groups of green-skinned beings began to transport in, twenty at a time, with the comm towers blowing apart and collapsing on hundreds of people along the water line. Civilians began screaming and running, snatching up their children as they went, trying to find cover in places they saw as safe. The Orions were here with a purpose, she noted, gunning down all who were running; shooting them in the back. Still other groups of green thugs began to exchange fire with the Starfleet personnel. As this confusion ensued, Sheyla apart from the attackers by a large crowd running and scrambling for cover, she noticed a gym within the administaration building. Taking off at a run she entered the building and made her way through the running crowds of frightened personnel. Entering the gym she went to the locker rooms and began to open lockers, looking for anything she could change into other than a bikini. The third locker opened was a boon, with Starfleet fatigues (BDU's) solid black in color. The bikini was stripped quickly as she took the pants down and held them along her legs, noting they were very close to her size in both length and waistline. Must be a female's uniform, she thought. There were Starfleet underwear within, female by design, and a sports bra, all of them black and styled after Underarmor. She got dressed quickly, the sports bra a bit more snug than she would have liked but it kept the twins in place for physical activity. Finally, sitting down, she held the boots up to her feet, seeing they were a size bigger than her own, but that was not an issue. Slipping them on she laced them up snug enough to prevent slipping and blisters, and with that done they fit fine for running and scrambling.

Seeing a weapons cache on the wall, Sheyla went to it and punched in her Starfleet access code, breathing a sigh of relief when it worked. The cache slid open revealing four phaser pistol, one of which she grabbed and tucked into the lumbar waistline of her pants. That was when her antennae, and her ears, picked up the sound of heavy footfalls, and orders being given to search all spaces. ~Damn it~ She thought. Looking to the locker still standing open, Sheyla grinned to herself and went to it.

The two orion thugs came into the locker room, cautiously angling their weapons down each aisle between the rowes of lockers. Sheyla had stepped into her locker and then pulled it closed to just a crack so she could see them if they came into view; which they did. As they came into view Sheyla felt a bit of relief. ~Amateurs~ she thought as she watched them move and aim their weapons like typical thugs, not trained professionals. Instead of checking each of the partially opened lockers, they scanned with their eyes and saw no one. No threats. So, they moved on to the next aisle. Quick and quiet like Sheyla stepped from her hiding place, getting her back up against the row of lockers across from hers, sneaking up to the corner of them so she could peek around. The two fools were still going, the locker room being rather large, with these cowards being more cautious than needed. That type of fear-caution caused mistakes as it kept the two of them within arms reach of each other. They stopped and started to confer quietly, each of them pulling out a cigarette and lighting up as they began to calm down. They stood casually, talking between themselves while blowing out that nasty-ass smoke.

The one closest to her position had his left side to her, almost his back, as he continued to talk to his friend. The other guy stepped to a locker facing away from them, on this end of another row of lockers, opening it to look inside. He began to remove items from it, giving them a once over before placing the items on the benches provided for the gym-goers. When the one closest to her went to say something he thought he heard something and looked back over his shoulder, seeing a blue streak with white hair running at him. Before he could squeak, spin, or pass gas she was on him, body flying through the air as if to give him a flying side kick. In the moments it all took place Sheyla had leaped into the air, her body bypassing her target even as her arms grabbed him around the shoulder and neck for leverage. His partner had heard the commotion and looked back just as a pair of boot heels smashed into his face, sending him careening and unconscious and face first into the locker.

The leverage of her hold had used her own body weight to pull the other off balance, and Sheyla pulled and pushed with her arms to slam him into the deck, loosening his hold on his rifle. The Andorian woman rolled with the maneuver with a practiced tumbling, the shoulder roll and landing on her feet to turn and face her enemy. The guy looked up at her in surprise as his ciggy lay smouldering on the floor, his eyes bugged out as he then tried to scramble-crawl toward the rifle he had dropped. Sheyla stepped in quickly and kicked the rifle away and then went to kick him. The Orion caught her right ankle and yanked hard as he rolled away, dropping Sheyla to her bum as he made another mad scramble to get to his feet.

Both combatants got to their feet at roughly the same time, with the man reaching for his holstered pistol, to which Sheyla stepped in and clasped his right hand gripping the butt of his weapon with both of her own, doing all she could to prevent it being drawn. The Orion gave a hissing chuckle and gave her a head-butt. Seeing it coming Sheyla turned her face slightly and caught the clash along her left cheekbone rather than her nose. Andorians, like Klingons, were known for being rather 'hard-headed'. Seeing his blow had little affect he then reached out and grabbed Sheyla by the throat. It was a poor hold because every time he reached she would sidestep with his own right side to keep a hold on his wrist and hand gripping his pistol in its holster. As they struggled Sheyla had built up quite a bit of saliva and spat directly into his eyes.

All pretense of getting his pistol free and holding her by the tunic near the neck were forgotten as he pulled back hard, using both hands to swipe away the irritating mucus on his face, blurring his eyes. Sheyla hopped in the air and gave a dual heel kick to his chest, landing on her back in a tumbling move and doing a kip-up even as he stumbled back in an ungainly fashion and tumbled back over a bench seat. Getting the spit from his eyes and trying to get back to his feet the Orion was given a swift martial arts kick to the face, again causing him to reel back and slam his head into a locker. Another, and then another, followed. Dizzy and with vision blurred he saw the Andorian step in and as she gave him a two-fisted clubbing to his skull. First a backhand followed by a firm punch, his green blood spattering across the locker, floor, bench and the two of them from his cut face and shattered nose. "Thank you," Sheyla said as she bent at the waist and pulled his double-edged combat blade from its sheath. "I needed this." Without preamble she then slammed her whole left hand down on his bald head, holding it in place even as she pushed the back of his head against the locker. Her right hand shot forward in a stabbing motion, burying the knife blade in his neck, through the throat, with the blade point giving off a tink-thud as it stopped when it met the locker.

The Orion gurgled and his body began to shake even as his life's blood poured from the wound, his wind pipe savagely damaged beyond use as he tried in vain to suck in air. To aid in bringing her wrath down Sheyla began to wriggle and twist the blade around in the wound, causing more terminal damage even as he expired. Yanking her blade free Sheyla took a step away, breathing heavily and wiping her mouth with the back of her right hand; the hand that held the knife. A smear of green blood was left on her lower face, which she could not see, as her mind came back to where she was and what was happening.

Even as she was deciding on her next course of action, and being caught up in her fight and victory, Sheyla did not hear the other man come up behind her, even with as bad a shape as he was in. At the last moment her antennae detected the movement even if her eyes and ears did not. The change in air current was enough to warn her. Sheyla dropped and rolled to her left even as the man swung his own knife where her neck had once been, trying to stab into her arteries and end her. He groggily turned to face her, knife held down at his hip. "Come, let us end this!"

"Gladly," Sheyla replied. She could see he was unsteady on his feet, her double heel kick to the dome still effecting him. More than likely a severe concussion her medical brain told her. Since they were roughly two meters apart Sheyla placed her left hand on her hip as she hitched them in a saucy stance, twirling her own knife in her right hand with practiced ease. Her swagger spoke volumes about his chances of coming out ahead of this. "Tell you what. I'm a doctor in Starfleet. You're friend there," she chinned towards the fresh corpse. "It's too late for him. But you, we can make a deal. I'll patch you up if you agree to become a C-I for Starfleet. It's a better offer than dying."

The Orion began to consider his odds. They were definitely not in his favor. With his head wound he had totally forgotten about his holstered sidearm, his brain going to the old faithful thinking that killing with a knife brought one far more joy at the death of an enemy. "A C-I?"

"Yes," Sheyla answered. "A confidential informant. A mole, or vole, within the ranks of the OS. Do that, and I'll leave you be. If not..." She shrugged, showing him she really did not care which choice he made.

Some doctor she is, he thought. Just another barbarian. "Okay. If I agree, how do I get out of here in one piece? You're the only one who knows of this deal."

"Not my problem," she said without any emotion one way or the other. "You started this, you can deal with it to escape. You make it, you become a C-I. If not, then you become a statistic." Sheyla's stance went back to straight and tall, feet shoulder-width apart as she looked through her eyebrows at him as she dipped her chin. "I know your face. We will find you. Back out of this deal and I will hunt you down myself, wrap you up, and deliver you to a penal colony wrapped in a bow. Capiche?"

He looked confused. Not at what she said overall, but the use of the final word. "Capiche? What is 'capiche'?"

"It means; 'understood'?" Sheyla's head came back to neutral. "I'm waiting."

"Fine, fine," the man said, dropping his knife and taking a hard seat on a bench, tired and in pain, his head throbbing. "I'll sit here and wait, then."

"Not before you toss your weapons belt, and his, over this way," Sheyla demanded. "I see you anywhere outside after I leave, you die. Now, get it done." The Orion, moving slowly and grunting in pain, did as she ordered. Sheyla squatted while watching him, taking up the weapons belt from the dead man and sheathing the knife before donning the belt and buckling the tactical holster down at the thigh. That one on, she then removed the holster from belt two, adding it to her own as a cross-draw, leaving her phaser pistol in the small of her back. Both rifles were then gathered by Sheyla, one slung over her shoulders, the other in hand at the ready. Once she was dressed for war she pulled her phase pistol, turned it to heavy stun and shot the Orion. She saw him slump and then slide-tumble to the floor, fast asleep. Returning the phaser to the lumbar region she found some twine used for gym workouts, securely tying the man's wrists and ankles. If anyone found him it would look like he got overpowered and tied up. If he was going to actually become a C-I, then keeping him safe from suspicion seemed the best course of action.

Seeing that there were no more weapons lying around, and making sure the phaser cache was closed and locked, Sheyla glanced around the locker room one more time before heading for the exit and the battle going on outside.

OFF: