Practise time.

Posted on Sat Feb 20th, 2021 @ 5:25pm by Lieutenant JG Damien Blackford

Mission: MISSION 0 - History Speaks
Location: USS Elysium - Security Holodeck 1
Timeline: 16/12/2396
701 words - 1.4 OF Standard Post Measure

Damien sighed as he walked down the hall. He'd just finished his shift and needed something to do with his free time. He'd been on the ship for a month now and was still yet to make any proper friends. So as it was, he spent the majority of his free time in his room, or on occasion in the Bar. But today, he thought he'd try for something different. Leaving the Brig, he headed down the hall, and towards the Security training Holodecks. Stopping outside, he quickly loaded up one of his training programs, before stepping inside.

Once inside, the doors shut and vanished behind him, leaving him stood in a small forested area, a few targets stood on the ground at varying distances. Off to the side stood a small rack, holding a bow, with a quiver full of arrows next to it. Walking over, he smiled as he picked up the bow. "Hello, old friend." He said as he plucked the string, testing it, before picking up the quiver, and strapping it to his belt, before grabbing the small finger guard and putting it on. Unzipping his outer shirt, he pulled it off and hung it off of a nearby tree, before turning to face the targets.

Planting his feet, he raised the bow and looked down the sight, making sure it was all okay. Once he was satisfied with it, he dropped it, pulling one of the arrows out of the quiver and nocking it. Raising the bow again, he drew the arrow back, took a deep breath, and a second to aim properly, before releasing the arrow. He watched it sail towards the target, and smiled as he heard it thump into the straw target. Dropping the bow once more, he looked across the field at the target and sighed as he noted that, whilst he had indeed hit the target, he had only struck the outer ring. "Damn." He muttered to himself. "I'm more out of practice than I thought." Sighing, he ran a hand through his hair, before drawing another arrow, and nocking it again, this time choosing a slightly closer target.

He repeated the steps, closing his eyes for a second, and taking a few breaths to calm himself, before opening his eyes and losing the arrow, watching it fly towards the target once more. He smiled as he watched it hit the target with a satisfying 'thwump', this time striking the target closer to the centre. Still not a bullseye, but he wasn't expecting that, given how long it had been since he'd last practiced.

He chuckled softly. He could almost hear his father's voice, a memory from years ago when he'd first announced that he was going to teach his son some basic survival training. It had surprised quite a few people that August Blackford was going to teach something so unlike him. But August was determined to teach his son something. The Dominion War may have been over for seven years, but some of the horrors he'd faced had shaken him.

'Technology is great, and we've learned many great things from it, but if there comes a time when technology fails us, we need to be ready to use whatever is around us to survive.' His father had told him in one of their first lessons. He refused to expand on what he meant. Maybe he thought it was appropriate for a ten-year-old boy. Maybe he just didn't want to relieve whatever he'd gone through. Either way, he'd made sure his son had the necessary skills needed. Archery. Creating a temporary shelter. Finding water. identifying safe to eat plants. After entering the Academy, Damien's Security training made good use of these skills and expanded upon them. Maybe that was why he had ended up going into Security, and not Medical like his father had.

Shaking his head, he sighed. No matter the path he has chosen, he was here now. He was a Starfleet Academy graduate and a proud crew member of the USS Elysium. And he wasn't going to let anyone down. Restringing his bow, and nocking another arrow, he raised his bow once again, and let loose.