Zero G Combat Training

Posted on Mon Oct 3rd, 2022 @ 6:55am by Captain Samuel Woolheater & Captain David Tonelly [Reece] & Gunnery Sergeant Nenaa [Sthilg] & Avalon [ADMIN NPC]
Edited on on Mon Oct 3rd, 2022 @ 6:59am

Mission: MISSION 0 - History Speaks
Location: Shuttle Bay
3529 words - 7.1 OF Standard Post Measure

[ON:]

Jess waited in the shuttle bay for the marines to show up. It was that time again, Zero-G Combat Certification. And pretty much Jess was one of the few instructors on the ship that could certify that. This was also a learning opportunity to learn some more on the subject, since Jess went through the gauntlet herself of having to EVA during a combat situation. She waited in the shuttle bay and was quite certain most if not all Nax's marines would show up.

Sam was looking forward to this. He liked space. Back on Pacifica, he enjoyed swimming in the ocean and the beaches. Snorkeling and free dives. The feeling of just letting yourself go and floating was very fun for him. This wasn't going to be the same; but it was close. He was already in his zero-g combat suit. His helmet was retracted away but he was fully geared up. He arrived first and entered the shuttle bay. He saw the wing commander of the air group, Lieutenant Commander Vaii. Sam approached and at a proper distance, as protocol would require, he presented himself with a crisp salute, "First Lieutenant Samuel Woolheater, reporting for zero-g combat training and recertification, sir!"

"Well, aren't you eager. Guess that's a good thing most days, but not when the situation goes to shit." Jess walked to a cooler and kicked it open. "Get a drink. The bottle opener is inside."

"Thank you, Commander Vaii" Sam said as he looked in the cooler and was delighted to find some of the finest bottled beer. "OO-ho-ho-ho-ho-oooo..." and he reached into the cooler and retrieved a marine favorite. The green hued lager of "The Primates Passion - It's time to go Ape shit over a beer". He opened the bottle and asked, "Aren't you having one Commander?"

The turbolift doors opened again at the team's Orion stepped out. " Hello, guys. " she said as she walked over to the growing group.

Sam nodded his head in greeting to GSgt. Gami and held the cooler lid open for her.

"Nice to know you guys are taking this seriously. I actually had to do this with Chief Man'darr and several others." Jess noted. "But if you ask me, anyone who would just ask you guys to suit up, with a phaser rifle, and send you guys out has completely lost their goddess damned mind." Jess mentioned. "But I guess If you gotta do it, you gotta do it, so I might as well make sure you guys at least know what the hell you're doing. Grab a drink, we have a lot to go over today."

Everything was going swimmingly well until the last statement there. Especially the bit about, "...asking you guys to suit up and go out has completely lost their mind." Now that was uncalled for and insulting. Sam stopped drinking mid-stream with a 'what-the-fuck?' face. That was the end of the beer and the cooler for him. He put the bottle cap back on and disposed of the bottle. Thank you very much but he wasn't that desperate for a bottle of suds. He looked at Gami and said, "Oh shit. Embrace the suck! This is going to be fun. And here I was thinkin' I knew the diff between shit from a shingle.

Next to arrive was the MXO, Captain David Tonelly. With him were the Reece Brothers, Kyle and Liam.

David grinned and said, "Did we miss the party?"

Sam answered, "Not at all XO. Party is just getting started sir. Cooler's open."

David chuckled softly. "Perhaps it would be better if we hold off on the beer until after the zero-g training."

Sam slightly nodded his head in mild agreement and then said, "Oh yeeaaaah...best to wait and show some restraaaaiint" with a low, muffled belch on the vowels of "Yeah" and "restraint".

David chuckled again. Though, he would be keeping his eyes on Sam. Drinking during training sessions wasn't exactly a good idea, but he'd keep quiet about it for now. If it started to become a problem down the road, he would step in.

"Good morning, ladies and gentlemen." Jess noted. "My name is Lieutenant Commander Jessica Vaii." Jess noted. "Now, there's a few things you'll need to know about me right off the bat. First, I will never ever reach Commander. That is because Starfleet Command is of the opinion that I'm too much of a pain in the ass to ever make a full Commander." Jess noted. "Good goddesses, if they ever make me a full commander, it will be the end of the goddess damned universe as we know it."

Sam bit his tongue and said nothing. He had the flattest expression he could muster. As neutral as he could make it. He thought about what it might be like to fly around in your own spacecraft. Being put in a shuttle with a dozen or more was as close as he got to being on a shuttle.

David arched an eyebrow. He knew that Vaii could be...mercurial at times. He just hoped that she started to get her temper under control. Being a bad ass starfighter pilot would only protect her so long from the brass at headquarters.

"Now, there's a saying about space from the old days of the space race. 'Once you get into orbit. You're already halfway to where you want to go. The honest truth is you don't need many thrusts to get where you need to go. Oh, and that line about you being weightless in space? Bullshit. The most important thing to remember about EVA is you are falling at every given moment furthermore you do have weight." Jess sat on a crate. "Pretty much, we're falling everywhere we need to go. Which is depressing if you think too much about it, but at least we can control the fall. That is what needs to be understood about EVA."

Sam thought to himself, ~Yeah, the whole getting shot and avoiding death are way, way down on the safety tips list~. As his inner monologue played, he tried to listen to what the Commander was saying. Not just listen but hear her and learn. He thought about the skills needed to fly a fighter and wondered how long one had to go to school to learn how to fly one of these birds? His mind wandered to the holo-images he had seen of strafing runs in a starfighter. Then of course one can't downplay a good bombing run. That probably feels good. And better yet is orbital bombardment if you want things done nice and complete. He returned his attention to the zero-g lesson.

It wasn't long before Sam's mind wandered again. This time it was trying to remember all the moves and the timing for the sword ceremony coming up for the captain’s wedding. He remembered the first time he was part of a marine ceremonial dress guard. It was a planet side embassy for the Federation. The instructor was telling them how important drill and practice were and that timing was everything. When they did their first maneuver, the one with their phaser rifles, another marine, Sam's drill partner, dropped his rifle twice. That put an end to the practice really quick and while they all stood there at attention and got yelled at, the instructor asked Sam's drill partner, by getting right up close to his face and yelling, "Do you have anything to say for yourself?" The marine answered back, "Not at this time Sergeant sir!" The enraged Sergeant yelled back, "Not at this time?! This is the only time!!" And the marine said back, "Err...umm...well then no sir. Nothing to say." The Sergeant blew his top and made the entire drill team drop and do pushups. Sam looked over at his drill partner and said mockingly, "Errr....umm...well then no sir?" A smile crossed his face, and he kept listening to the Zero-G lesson.

Across the way, there was a maintenance crew effecting repair to one of the shuttle bay’s auxiliary systems. A few of the Engineering 'grease monkeys' were working on a system and they seemed very intensely focused on it. As he listened to the zero-g lesson, he watched the repair crew lower the gravity in that section of the shuttle bay, and then return it to normal. Gravity plating was like 'magic'. However, in this case, something was terribly wrong. The polarity on the plate was...off. A maintenance tech was walking across it when he suddenly fell to the floor and was pinned down. At the same time, the entire replaced plate started to float off the deck. And as it floated up it started to turn. Like a slowly flipped coin in the air, end over end it floated slowly up while the two other engineers tried to regain control of the gravity plate. Sam looked to his left and his right. ~Am I the only one seeing this? ~ he thought.

He returned his attention to the mishaps just in the next compartment. The gravplate floated effortlessly off the deck and turned slowly, end over end. Despite the other techs attempts to get the plate under control, they could not reach it. And the tech that was stuck to one side could not move. Sam couldn't hear what they were saying, but it looked like they we going to use a maglev to try and latch onto the plate. The device attached to the underside, in the middle found its mark and the tether went taught. They started to slowly, gently reel in the floating deck plate until they could get hands on it and right it. Activating their gravity boots, they brought it down to the ground and set it down. Making some adjustments, the technician was free at last. He got up, dusted himself off, yelled at one of them and then proceeded to kick the ass of the other one. Sam watched the whole thing as he listened to the lesson.

Eventually, after asses were kicked and techs were yelled at, the situation returned to the usual drollness of a maintenance crew. The zero-g training continued. Something about remember your footing, always check your blind spots and controlled breathing. He looked at the chronometer over the pilot's briefing room and tried not to think about lunch.

Suddenly, the overhead COMM system came on, like the shuttle bay's public address system, and there was a horrendous noise of what sounded just like someone pinching out a high-pressure fart. It was high toned in pitch, and it just went on and on and buzzed the overhead COMM system with its nastiness. The tonal quality varied as if someone was standing on a stool in order to reach the microphone and they were having a hard time balancing? The sound wasn't always the same quality or closeness to the microphone and at the end of this long, nasty-ass fart it ended in a little 'squeak'. Sam heard some kids laughing and then an adult voice said, "Get the hell down from there!" in the background and then a pop. Sam had a hard time not laughing at this. And the more he tried to squelch the laughter, the worse it got. He looked to his left and then his right to see if anyone else was about to bust up. He didn't see anyone else, and he covered his eyes from watering and cranked down on just completely losing it. And that made it even harder and funnier. Was anyone else hearing this? he asked himself. The fart sound just filled the shuttle bay and echoed all around the open space and - really?? - he was the only one that was turning red and covering his face and heaving his shoulders in an attempt not to laugh? He lifted his eyes; they were red and watery from stifling his laughter. He covered his mouth and tried to look at the ceiling. He saw the PA speaker and he had to look away again. He thought about the buzzing and wondered if the speaker itself had been blown out? The lesson just carried on and after some minutes, he was able to recompose himself and listened to the lesson. He saw the two Finnigan boys being pulled along by their earlobes and out the shuttle bay by their father. Those two brothers were in the doghouse for sure.

Sam wasn't sure how many minutes had passed; he was engaged in listening to the lesson. But it would be hard to not have noticed the arrival of a rather junky looking shuttle that looked like it was made of garbage. It was oval, it had headlights on it, and it had a few bumper stickers that Sam had never even heard of before. It flew into the shuttle bay, flew like a maniac and landed with a thud in the bay next to the zero-g training area. The doors opened on both sides. First out was a teenager, human looking, he was dressed in blue pants and a yellow and striped shirt. He was walking weirdly, and he danced around like he was doing the pee dance. "ooooo---whaaaa---ooooo----I gotta goooo!!" His legs were crossed as he stood in agony as the other man got out of the vehicle. He had white, crazy, frizzy hair, a scowl on his face, dressed in a white labcoat, tan pants and a light blue shirt.

An enormous amount of empty glass bottles of wine and beer spilled out onto the deck of the shuttle bay. He was holding a flask, "Godammit kid! How many times did I tell you that I don't want to have to make extra fucking stops?! Well, here we are. Y-Y-Y-you are simply annoying me, grandson."

"Grampa! I really have to go! W-w-w-we gotta find a bathroom f-f-f-fast!" he danced around, and Sam thought the kids eyes might be crossing.

"Relax kid. This is a Federation starship. There's plenty of bathrooms around here."

"The Federation? Aw jeez Grampa. I thought, y'know, y-y-y-y-you didn't really get along too well with the Federation?"

"It’s a different Federation. But the principle is the same. Grampa doesn't like to be toooo(burps)oold what to do or how to think. And in every universe, there is a Federation or Galactic Government. In this one, they make really good Raaa(burps)aktajino's"

"OH! I gotta go! Please don't talk about drinks, or w-w-w-water! I gotta find a bathroom quick Grampa!"

"All right, all-right. What are you dancing around for? Ask one of these clooo(burps)owns if you can use their toilet. And while you take an UN-scheduled and UN-sanctioned piss and UN-appreciated pitstop that has taken us off the grid, I am going to get a Raktajino. They make 'em good here."

Sam watched the old man head over to the replicator and the teenager, came running up to him and desperately said, "E-e-e-exuse me mister?! Can you tell me where the closest bathroom or restroom is? I need to use it...now!"

Sam pointed to the door three doors down and said, "In there."

"Oo-o-o-ooo! THANKS!" the kid said, and he went hobbling over, at light speed, to the restroom.

Sam watched him run over and disappear inside. He returned his attention to the lesson. A moment later he noticed that the old man was standing nearby. The old man said, "Sooo...I gotta say, this is a much nicer ship in person."

Sam answered, "Oh? Have you been here before?"

From the bathroom came the distinct sound of a zipper being lowered and then "AAAAAhhhhhhhhhhhhh!!!!!!!!!!" the relieved sound of a photo finish in the urinal.

Sam and the old man looked at each other and the old man said, "I used to carry a pee-can. Y’know, for emergencies. Except when I used it, they were, y’know actual emergencies. I refuse to carry a pee can any longer in the car. Inevitably, it leaks and or tips over at the worst times. And just having it around encourages poor judgement when selecting beverages before a long journey."

Sam shrugged, "No judgement here."

The old man looked at him closer as he sipped his Raktajino, "So w-w-w-what are you? Some kind of a marine or a red shirt?"

Sam said, "Yes, I'm a marine; nobody from Command is here. They are red color uniforms."

The old man looked around, "Ohhh yeah. That's the old seeee(burps)eeries."

Sam cocked his head like 'whaaaat??' not knowing what the strange old man was saying.

"Is this your class? You guys have to attend a class? On what? How to almost always have superior firepower and smarts but also almost aaaa(burps)aalways not have enough of the one thing that can stop the bad guy? And another thing, whiiii(burps)iiile we're on the subject. Why is it that all of the "bad guys" in this universe talk too much? I-I-I-I-Is this a cross-over between a series of bad James Bond films and 'The View' with those cackling hens? Jeeezzus! The prooo(burps)oooblem with your universe is that it's t-t-t-too liberal. Too liberal. Your Federation thinks that everybody is rational and thiii(burps)iinks like yooo(burps)ouuu. Wake up PAL! Nobody thinks like you and nobody cares. The universe doesn't give a FUCK about your or your stupid Federation! You guys are a bunch of slack-jawed y-y-y-y-yokels!"

Sam said, "Zero-G training." Sam was just standing there listening to the old man rant when the teenager came out of the restroom. Looking very relieved and walking more slowly. When the kid saw that the old man was laying into Sam, he quickened his pace.

"Grampa! I-I-I-I'm here. Awww jeez. C'mon Grampa. We can go now."

The old man looked at the kid with disgust, “Are you SUUURE! You little turd! In five-minutes after we leave am I going to have to make another sto(burps)oop because you didn't get a snack? Y-y-y-y-y-your little tummy going to hurt because you're hungry. Why don't you take this opport(burps)uuunity now to stock up with free stuff from the magic box. Have at it kid."

"Aww jeez. N-n-no. C'mon. We can go. I'm all better now. I can hold it until we get home to mom and dad."

"Jeezus! Mom and Dad? MOM and DAD! Get your head out of your family's ass! Look around. These Federation bozo's don't even know how good they have it. No idea that they are living in the golden age. The golden age you bunch of dumb asses!"

"Grampa? How about you give the nice man? W-w-w-what's your name sir?"

"He doesn't have a name! He's the equivalent of a red shirt on the classic series. A plot device. About as important as a comma or a semicolon in the grand scheme of things. The walking dead. Subject to the whims of some lonely author at the other end of the computer keyboard."

Sam said, "My name is Sam..."

"Nobody cares!"

"Y-Y-Y-ya know what! I-I-I-I'm putting my foot down. He is not expendable. No one is just expendable. People matter Grandpa. WWWWW..."

"He’s not even a person. He’s imaginary. Like voting, or, or, or, or…plant-based hamburgers. Obviously, you don't know what you're saying. I think we've broken enough of the fourth wall here to qualify for some kind of an award somewhere. Let's just go! You peed in their toilet, I got a free Raktajino let's cut our losses and go so that this worm food and the rest of these tic-tac’s can get back to their stupid class."

"WWWWW-what about him? YYYYY-you know? How about a little science gift for Sam. Something to remember us by?"

The old man did a facepalm. "OK. Fine." He reaches into his labcoat pocket and withdraws a small box filled with white little pill like dots. About a dozen of them. He took one out and handed the rest to Sam, "Here. These are from the 32nd century. These are plasma diii(burps)iiisintegrator grenades. Take one, squeeze it until it pops and then throw it at whaa(burps)at you want to die." He did a quick demo on a worker bee work pod and the entire vehicle disintegrated. "There's eleven left. Knock yourself out. I'm keeping the Raktajino mug." The small tin was placed into Sam's hand.

"Bye!" the kid said, and both the old man and the kid boarded the strange craft made of garbage. It started up, the old man flipped Sam off and then the craft was gone and out the shuttle bay forcefield.

Sam looked at the tin in his hand and then he looked to the rest of his team, "Aww hell no! What the hell is going on here?"

"Hello? Anyone?" Sam addressed himself to the artificial intelligence, "Computer? I mean...Avalon? Are you there?"

There was silence but no reply.

David looked over at Sam, concern filling his features. "Sam, you feeling alright?"

[OFF:]