Once more unto the breach...

Posted on Mon Sep 16th, 2019 @ 5:16am by Lieutenant Commander S'hib

Mission: MISSION 0 - History Speaks
Location: DS9 - Quarks Bar
Timeline: MD1
1609 words - 3.2 OF Standard Post Measure

"Two days?"

"I told you, we dont rent them out for that long."

Orin's head slammed down on the bar top. All he wanted to do was finally get some exercise in after this last mission, and instead here he was, trying to haggle time credit with a Ferengi and losing spectacularly. "One day?"

The bartender looked at him incredulously. "Look kid, you seem nice, but time, like latinum, is a highly limited commodity."

Orin sighed. "Four hours?"

"Now that I can do. You need a program?" The bartender smiled a toothy grin. "I've got plenty that a young one like you might like."

Orin simply handed over the payment and held up an isolinear chip. "I've got my own. And while we're at it, could I get a scotch? Neat? At least twelve years if you have it."

The Ferengi gave him that look again before pouring him something from an unlabeled bottle while shaking his head. Orin took it and gave it a sniff. It smelled proper. He took a small sip and felt his eyes involuntarily closed with pleasure. It'd been a while since he'd had something this nice. Turning to put his back to the bar, he began to slowly study the people around. You could tell a lot about people from how they looked or acted. A pair in the corner looked to be on a date, possibly the first. Shy looks, quick smiles and laughs, but no physical contact. A few people at the bar hunkered over their drinks like they were afraid someone would take them. Only one exchanged pleasant conversation with the bartender, meaning he was a regular. Some Starfleet personnel were sharing a table, joking and laughing like good friends who worked together tended to do.

“Water please.” S’hib said softly as he walked up to the bar, his large hooves clicking against the floor as he stopped next to Lieutenant Sempton. “Thank you.” He snorted before staring at the small glass, lost in thought.

Orin had watched the newcomer enter the bar and order. "Part of me wants to make a joke about leading a horse to water." He started, looking at the equine creature. "But the logical part wants to ask a few questions about yourself if you'll allow." Sipping his drink, Orin turned and put out his hand. "Orin Sempton, Xenoarchaeologist on the Elysium. Sorry to bother you, but I can identify most species in and around Federation territory and you're a bit of a quandary."

Snorting somewhat disdainfully at the joke S’hib slowly put his glass down, turned towards Orin and extended his large four-digit hand out. “Ensign S’hib, Security officer on the Elysium as of a few days ago.” He added with a little flick of his ear. “As for your quandary, I’m a Sequus.”

Shaking the offered hand, Orin gave the briefest of palm twists, angling S'hib's hand to study it and began to mumble. "Equine-like creature, bi-pedal with hooves and what appear to be dexterous appendages in the upper body, muscle structure gives more power to the lower body to compensate for becoming erect, ala Australopithecines, including Paranthropus." He stopped and looked up at S'hib. "Sorry... Mental documentation of a species I haven't interacted with before. It's a habit...."

"No, Don't apologise." S'hib snorted as he tilted his head slightly, His ears firmly fixed towards Sempton. "Though you would have far more luck studying my body structure on my home, Sequella." He added with a slightly curled lip as he studied Sempton just as closely as he was studying him.

Making a mental note to look up the planet later, Orin noticed the bartender looking at him and then the holosuites, rather pointedly. With a grumble, he turned back toward S'hib. "Okay, strange question, but how are your people with combat?" He held up both hands in a calming gesture. "I ask, because I'd like to talk about your people's background, but I've spent the last ten minutes haggling the large-lobbed moneysucker for holosuite time, and I think he may throw me out if I don't use it soon."

"My species became very proficient at self-defence early on in our evolution, But I did find Starfleet hand to hand combat training difficult to pick up at first." S'hib admitted with a slight shake of his head. "But I would be more than willing to give you an example." He added, extending a hand outwards for Sempton to take lead.

Making their way up to the suite, Orin attempted to explain the nature of the program. "So... Terran's have been at war with each other for as long as verbal history. Put two people in a room, and inevitably they will fight over something." He shook his head in disgust. Humanity had come a long way, but on that front, not far enough. "This program is a historical recreation of one of the deciding battles in early Terran history. The Battle of Zama was the end of a war, known as the Punic war between the forces of Rome and Carthage." The door to the suite opened and both entered. "Carthage, led by the great general Hannibal Barca, had the larger army on the plains, as well as large war elephants. The Roman army, led by the Consul Publius Cornelius Scipio, later given the last name Africanus for his victory, had significantly less infantry, but made up for it with cavalry."

Orin plugged the isolinear chip into the data slot and punched a few keys. The landscape quickly changed from the green tinted room to a large open plain. On either side of them stood two massive armies, one of which carried 80 large, angry elephants. He began to make his way toward the Roman army and quickly turned around. "You may choose to fight on whichever side you wish. Tap a soldier and you'll take his place as well as his weapons and armor." He continued to move toward the Romans and tapped a legionary. His clothes quickly changed to a tunic and chainmail. A large rectangular shield occupied one hand and a short bladed sword appeared in his right. He rested the shield against him and used his now free hand to adjust the helmet on his head, tightening the straps that held the cheek plates a little.

"Why does everybody seems to have such a preference, for violent historical battles..." S'hib muttered to himself as he walked up beside Sempton and tapped another solider, the chainmail and tunic forming to his alien body with ease, however, S'hib still let out a disapproving sigh. "Didn't need one anyway." S'hib snorted as the computer failed to replicate a suitable helmet for his equine skull, tossing it to the slick mud beneath his Hooves

"Computer set the level to five." Turning to S'hib, Orin grimaced. "Sorry, the program can only compensate so much..." Coughing awkwardly, he continued. "So... The level specifies not to difficulty, but lethality. Level one akin to getting slapped with a pillow and ten to being punched with a pain stick. Level five will feel like getting hit with a stout truncheon. Not lethal, but not painless. The program monitors vital signs and will shut down if they fluctuate too much out of the norm." That being said, He picked up the shield and held it at the ready. "When you're ready, just say 'Begin.'"

"Begin." S'hib said as everything around him started moving suddenly and violently.

The sound immediately changed. Almost eighty-five thousand men and animals made an ungodly racket. Elephants brayed, horses whinnied, men joked and hurled insults. Immediately, one set of elephants charged and all talking ceased. Before they made it to the line, they veered off and ran back at the Carthaginian line, trampling their left side cavalry. A set of Roman cavalry followed to take advantage of this. The other set of Elephants charged, followed by the first line of the Carthaginians.

"Now it's going to get interesting." Orin shouted to S'hib, to be heard over the noise. "It never really plays out exactly like the battle supposedly happened. I dont know why."

"Simulations can be fickle like that." S'hib shouted back as he fumbled with the awkward ancient human weapons.

The elephants attempted to break through, but fell into gaps opened in the Roman lines, allowing them to pass through. Orin hacked at a leg as the nearest one passed, but otherwise stayed in formation. The Carthaginian line met them shortly afterwards. With a crash, the two front lines met. Savage blows rained down and men all around them fell.

Orin waited, pushed back with his shield and thrust his sword tip into the gaps. He fell into normal patterns, having much practice. Push, thrust, reset, push, thrust, reset. A blow glanced off his helmet, another caught his arm causing him to drop his sword before a body smashed into him and brought him to his knees. Yep. he thought, That's new...

The Carthage infantrymen bared down on Orin, Sword swinging down upon him before being deflected away by another, the loud clang of metal vibrated up S'hibs arm as well as in his ear before he thrust a powerful hoof into the chest of the enemy soldier, the man's body buckling like ragdoll into the soldiers behind. "Get up Lieutenant." S'hib snorted as he threw his shield aside, reaching his large hoofed hand out towards him. "The battle is far from over." He said, pulling Sempton up to his feet.

OFF:

Ensign S'hib
Security Officer

Lieutenant JG Orin Sempton
Alien Archaeologist/Anthropologist

U.S.S. Elysium