Maj Wes Greaves - Stand. Up.

[Alora DeVeau]

 ((Corridor, New Dominion Battleship))

Their boarding mission was off to a rocky start, but nothing unexpected. Wes had anticipated resistance. They were trying to mitigate it some by quick aggressive action in multiple boarding parties. After all, dealing with three small incursions on a ship was harder than dealing with a single large one. To that end a squad of Marines was securing the ship's shuttle bay while another fire team was wreaking havoc elsewhere as a diversion. The Major's team was supposed to have beamed in near the prison cells, but precise placement left much to be desired. They'd arrived half a deck away and now they were threatened to be pinned down by the initial security response.  

 

The four Starfleet officers were clinging to what cover they could find in the mostly empty hall. Alcoves for doors, no more than several inches deep, had become a life line as several New Dominion personnel fired poloron weapons from down the corridor at least 50 meters away. To their credit, the small team was giving much more than they took. Phaser beams crossed haphazardly with the purple poloron blasts, and often times were finding their marks. The problem was the responding crew outnumbered the boarding team. Surprise was already lost and if they lost their aggressive offensive momentum they'd be cornered in no time. A thought their security officer obviously shared.  

Basilla: We need to move, continue towards the brig. We risk getting surrounded if we stay here.

Kel:  I have to concur, this is not an ideal situation.  
 

 The woman was spot on in her assessment, and if the situations had been different Wes would have offered words of encouragement. This however wasn't training. They were in a real firefight, and disaster and death was inches away at every given moment. There was no time to plan. No time for unneeded words. Only action.   

 

The Marine Mk III-C phaser rifles were purpose designed for these types of fights. Unlike the standard Mk III, the designers had recognized that the men and women behind the rifle would likely be in situations in which a tricorder would be necessary but unwieldy. To that end they had integrated a purpose built tricorder to the rifle. It added to the heft of the weapon, and could only be read while looking down the sights, however it was perfect for situations like these.   

 

Like he had done a hundred times in training and on other operations, Wes keyed in the scanner, bringing up a small holographic display over and around his sights. Firing a rapid burst of three shots to get the security crew's heads down, he then brought up the ship's schematics to find what he was looking for. 

Greaves:  There's another corridor that branches off to the left ten meters ahead. We need to press into their attack to reach it!

Brodie: You get Kel ahead, I’ll follow and cover the rear.

Basilla: I’ll provide covering fire.

Isabelle leaned out, a flash of purple narrowly missing her and fizzing out in the wall beside her leaving a blackened scorch mark. She held up the phaser rifle and fired several shots in the direction of the Dominion crew, paused for a second and fired several more bursts.   

Basilla: Go.

Brodie: ::To Basilia:: Follow as fast as you can.

Wes never even heard Brodie's words of encouragement. Without even a glance, Wes obeyed Basilia's directive, his trust in the woman's judgement implicit. There wasn't time to second guess when the blasts of energy were being exchanged. You just had to accept that the other members of the team were doing their job in the moment.  

 

From his low crouch Wes exploded into motion, sprinting forward as Isabella's orange beams past down the hall to his left. Hugging the right bulkhead the Marine tried to keep her field of fire as open as possible. Her return fire was their life blood as the three of them moved forward to the entrance to the next corridor.   

 

Finally reaching the crossing point, a four way intersection of hallways, Wes shouted instructions for the others moving with him, not waiting to see if they were followed or not. 

Greaves:  Brodie, clear right! Kel, clear left!
 

The pirate crew had seen them moving through the open and suddenly had decided to brave Basilia's fire. Two of them, now just a couple dozen meters further down the corridor, popped out into firing positions and let loose a hasty stream of energy. He didn't have time to slow down as the Marine approached the branching corridors so he didn't. Instead, he slammed into the corner of the intersection at full speed, his shoulder making an uncomfortable crunch as his momentum carried him into the metal.    

The move may have saved his life however, as purple poloron blasts scorched the bulkhead where he would have been had he slowed to a stop. Dropping back into a crouch, Wes leaned out from his new place of cover and snapped off a rapid series of shots, trying to pin the pirates back into the cover they'd left.   

 

By the sounds of it, he wasn't the only one fighting for his life. Sounds of a struggle were clear to both of his sides and behind him as Kel and Brodie covered the other two corners in the four way intersection. Heavy breathing and the sound of a sickly crunch of metal on flesh came from one end while a rapid series of phaser blasts came from the other.  

 

Every fiber of his being demanded the Marine turn to help his comrades who we're obviously fighting their own battles, but the firefight to his front was more important. If his fire slackened it would give the pirates enough freedom to train their sights back down the corridor again, where Ensign Basilia was sprinting toward them, completely exposed. Wes just had to trust that they could handle themselves for the precious seconds it would take Basilia to join them.  Fortunately, Kel's voice offered some early assurance that he could handle himself.  

Kel:  All clear here.  

Greaves: Basilia, I'll cover for you. Move!

Basilia: Response 

Brodie: ::Shouting:: I’ve got something to buy some time – Izy…when you see the smoke – run!
 

 A hint of relief washed over the Marine at the sound of Brodie's voice. Even as he confirmed the Lieutenant Commander was still in fighting shape, he leaned out into the hall once again, firing off a half dozen controlled blasts to pin down the pirates once again. More than that Wes could hear someone prepping something metal behind him, which he could only guess was some kind of smoke grenade given the Counselor's comment.  

Kel: What smoke?

Greaves: No time. Longer we're here the worse it's gonna get. Just keep covering and bounding.
 

From a dozen meters down the hall, just past a slight curve in the corridor, Wes saw movement. The ship's crew had gotten reinforcements and it looked like they were preparing to rush their position. Given time, it would be disasterous for Basilia, and if the timing was bad enough, it'd make Brodie an easy target as well. Wes's answer to the increasing resistance was one drilled into him since Marine Corps boot camp so many years ago.  

 

Aggressive offensive action. 

 

Standing quickly and stepping fully into the corridor, Wes layed down an intense series of phaser blasts, no more than a quarter second between shots. At this close of range, the only thing to distrub his aim was the steps he took and the action of squeezing the trigger, both actions of which he was deliberatly and excellently drilled in. The bright orange energy plowed into the walls and doorframes the pirates were using for cover and sent several scurrying deeper down the hall. It was enough for the Marine to cross the intersection to the far side and gain a better firing position. 

Brodie: Gas out!

Kel: oOGas?Oo

 

Basilia: Response
 

 Once set on the far side however, he realized that Lieutenant Kel had followed him on the hazardous move. Brodie on the other hand took the opportunity to toss something around the corner, cannoning it off the curvature of the wall, and then a long slow hiss began. Fortunately the heavy sounds of running footfalls signaled Basilia's approach, and then all at once the team was back together.  

Brodie: Run!

 

The hallway in the direction of the ship's crew had filled with smoke at an alarming rate, completely obscuring his field of fire. The effect worked both ways however, and at least for the moment, they had plenty of concealment. With the team back together, Wes took a hard left down the hall. From the schematics he knew this would circle around behind where the pirates had been pushing them from. More importantly, they were less than a hundred meters from the brig.  

 

Taking off at a hard jog, the Marine led the way, rifle at the ready but swinging widly from side to side at the force of the run.  

Greaves: Fifty meters this way and we'll circle behind them. Hurry, before the smoke dies down! 

 

Basilia: Response
 
Kel:  What was that?

Brodie: Anesthizine…mixed with an opaque smoke. They can’t see through it…and if they try and walk through it...they’ll not make it five steps.
 

 The small group ate up the distance quickly. His heavy gear slowed down their movement significantly, but Wes was glad to have it. Especially with him up front. If he took a shot from someone laying in wait it just might save his life.  

Greaves: Not a bad trick Commander.  

 

Basilia: Response

 

Kel:  So we're doing chemical weapons now?

Brodie: I’m not really a fighter…so I like to make sure I have a few tricks to keep things even. That was a mild option….so it won’t hold them for long before they regroup.

 

Their collective breathing was labored from the exertion, but Wes was confident in how they were faring so far. They'd survived two firefights already, and the team was obviously still in high spirits. There wouldn't be so much talking if things were truly dire. Now they just needed to get to the brig and get the Commodore out. They could do this. 

 

As the team continued to run along the slightly curving auxiliary corridor they passed several dozen doors leading into other compartments as well as a few branching hallways. Glancing between is rifle sights, the holographic tricroder scan, and the corridor in front of him, the XO did his best to manage the flood of information his body was taking in while maintaining the fastest reaction time he could. The curving corridor was about to link back up with the hall they had started in, and by his assessment of the blueprints, they would pop out just a few meters behind where the Commander's smoke grenade had gone off. 

 

At least two minutes had gone by while they ran, and he hoped the smoke had dissipated. As they approached the intersection that was thankfully confirmed. A dozen humanoid bodies lay motionless, scattered about the corridor, knocked unconscious from the gas or phaser hits. Movement however caught his eye and the Marine immediately threw himself against the bulkhead bringing his rifle to bear. The action quickly proved unnecessary however as his sights came across a humanoid man seizing on the ground.  

Kel:  Stop.  Wait.  This man needs help.
 

Greaves: (Shaking his head and glancing further down the hall) Negative. We need to keep moving before more security show up.  

Basilia/Brodie: Response

Wes took his eyes off the corridor long enough to meet Kel's gaze. It was obvious the Doctor felt strongly about the issue, and the moment Wes feared had come to pass. The Doctor had failed to immediately and instantly obey one of his orders. The hesitation was enough. Arguing would take longer than just dealing with the wounded man. 

 

Wearing a severe look, the Marine motioned the doctor toward the injured on the ground. It was the wrong decision to wait here, but he'd just have to hope it didn't bite them in the ass. Kel bent over the man with his tricorder and then holstered his weapon.  He took out his hypospray.

Kel: Just give me a minute, this man could hurt himself further, I can give him a sedative and we can be on our way.

 

OOC - I think there was a slight mixup/copy paste error in the the tags for me so I smoothed over the wrinkle here. Sorry for any discontinuity!  

 

Greaves: 60 seconds Doc. No more. (Looking to Basilia) Ensign, help me cover the hall. Counselor, cover our rear.
 

Brodie/Basilia: Response

 

Kel frowned but turned back to his work. The seizure was intesne and it looked like V'Len was having trouble getting the hypospray administered. Wes turned his eyes back down the most likely place for a threat to pop out, rifle at the ready. 

Kel:  Just relax sir I'm only trying to help.

The hypospray finally fell in position but just as Kel pressed the release the man's hand shot up into his chest.  A croaking gasp exited his lungs.  

Kel: ::Gasp::

The sound of something wet smacking against flesh followed by Kel's strained gasp delivered another shot of adreline to Wes's brain. His eyes snapped back to the Doctor to find Kel struggling above the now motionless crewman. The Doctor appeared to be waivering, barely keeping himself in a crouch, let alone standing up. Slowly, V'Len pushed himself against the wall and reached up to his chest. Even in the dim alert lighting of the vessel the Marine recognized the dark stain of blood on Kel's hands and chest.  

 And a gore soaked knife held in the motionless crewman's hand.  

 

Kel: oO Greaves is going to kill me. Oo ::softly:: Commander could you assist me.
 

Brodie/Basilia: Response 

 

Time slowed as the team collapsed on V'Len, trying to determine the extent of his injuries. Wes however stayed exactly where he was, several feet away and watching down the corridor. The way V'Len moved. They way his words came in gasps and the blood poured down his uniform.  

 

The wound was immensely serious.  

 

Worse yet, he could hear the sound of running from behind them. More of the crew were responding. This time from the direction they had come from.  

 

Greaves: We need to move. Now. Brig is Thirty more meters down the hall. Lieutenant, can you move?

Kel tried once again to push himself up but this time he only succeeded in leaning off the wall and slumping down on his back on the floor.   

 

That answered that. Finally tearing himself from an overwatch position the Marine stepped toward the fallen Trilldorian and grabbed both Isabella and Alex's arms.
 

Greaves: We're out of time. When that security team finds us we have to be some place defensible. The brig is our best bet. We'll have to stabilize him after we move.  

 

Basilia/Brodie: Responses 

Greaves: (Directing the woman down the hall) Ensign, blocking position. Now. Buy me 30 seconds. (Directing the counselor the other direction) Alex, cover the direction toward the brig. We're moving soon. 

 

Brodie/Basilia: Response

 

Greaves: I understand. Trust me. 

 

Brodie/Basilia: Response 

 

With steel in his eyes the Marine looked from one to the other, then released his hold on their arms, letting them free. Without waiting to supervise their movements Wes knelt down directly in front of Kel, his rifle hanging loosely by a sling about his shoulders and the muzzle faintly scraping the metal deck plating.  

 

For a few seconds, his gaze stared directly into the Doctor's eyes, not for a second drifting to the slightly pulsating knife wound near where the Trilldorian's heart should be. His face was close enough to V'Len's to feel the haggard breathing from the wounded doctor. 

 

Greaves: (Quiet, deathly serious, tone) Lieutenant, listen to me closely. You are going to take your right hand and apply pressure to your wound. You are going to stand the hell up right now and run down that corridor, and when we get to the brig you are going to point to the anti-coagulant in your medkit and we're going to get you out of here. And do you know what happens if you don't?  

 

Kel: Response 

 

The sound of running feet was getting closer and Wes hoped that they had a few more seconds before the corridor erupted in a firefight again. Moreso, he hoped Isabella was ready to give them hell.  

 

Greaves: If you don't that means one of is going to pick you the hell up and carry you. You and I both know that means we're going to have one less gun in the fight and it can aggravate that injury. So, I'm going to say it one more time.   

 

Brodie/Basilia: Response 

 

Greaves: (Shouting but not breaking eye contact with Kel) I need twenty more seconds! (Quietly back to Kel) Stand. Up.  

 

Kel: Response 

 

Brodie/Basilia: Response 

 

 

OOC - Don, if you get a chance, let us know OOC how badly you want to be hurt and if you want us to carry you or not!

 

Tags/TBC 

 

 

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Major Wes Greaves
Executive Officer
Marine Detachment Commander
USS Thor - NCC 82607
E239702WG0
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