The birth of a warrior

Posted on Mon Nov 25th, 2019 @ 11:41am by Lieutenant Colonel Azhul Naxea

Mission: Casperia Prime - A lesson in relaxation
Location: Deck 4
Timeline: Before "This is what we're doing now"
724 words - 1.4 OF Standard Post Measure

Having made her way from the bridge, Naxea found herself on Deck Four, where she and others had been fighting a group of Jem' Hadar. There was still some black scouring on a bulkhead from weapons fire impact. She ran her hand along the bulkhead, partly wondering if the battle had indeed occurred. "Always in a fight," she said softly to herself, as she examined the scouring. She closed her eyes and she could hear screams--the screams of a little girl whose father was killed. They were screams of a girl who had to endure--forced to endure or die. The screams of a girl dying. The screams of a girl being born anew--the birth of a fighter.

She recalled the stinging pain as a Cardassian soldier backhanded her as a child--the taste of blood in her mouth. She had been helpless then and it was then she vowed to never again be helpless. Never again sit by and watch as her family and friends be killed.

She recalled the boy she had beaten in school on Deep Space Nine after he had called her a "stupid Bajoran." She recalled the satisfaction she got from each punch that landed on the boy--at seeing his nose bleed, soaking a the chest of his shirt in blood. It had been the first fight she had been in after the occupation. However, she had been foolish and untrained.

She recalled her time at Starfleet Marine Academy--the boxing matches she had participated in, the Marine Combat Martial Arts Program she was required to pass. She recalled the soreness and bruises that her body had endured. She remembered the hours spent off duty in the holodeck practicing hand to hand against stronger and faster opponents such as Klingons and Vulcans which had landed her more than once in the Infirmary. Yet each time, she got faster and learned to hit harder, quicker, and smarter.

She recalled her first time in combat, being against Orion Pirates. The first time her fist struck home on an Orion's jaw so hard, she had thought she had broken her hand. She remembered with satisfaction at seeing the Orion drop to the deck with several teeth laying in a pool of blood before slamming the butt of her rifle against the Orion's skull, ending the ordeal--it had been her first kill.

"Ma'am," came a man's voice, breaking her from her thoughts. She blinked, turning to the man, to find the form of a young Cardassian approaching her. "Yes, what is it PFC Durak?" she asked sternly.

"Um," he began nervously. "Well ma'am...I just wanted to say that I believe you've been unfair to me. I know what my people did you your people was wrong but it is unfair to take it out on me. I am a Starfleet Marine, I didn't have anything to do with the Occupation--I hadn't even been born yet."

Naxea turned and faced Durak and approached him. "Oh, you think I'm being too hard on you, PFC?"

"Y-yes, ma'am."

"I won't lie to you, PFC. I do hate your people," Naxea admitted. "I will always hate them--what they did to Bajor and my people can never be forgiven. However, I am hard on you because you can be better. You want to earn my trust and respect, then do as you're told and stop whining that I'm being too hard on you. You think you have it hard, Durak? You don't know what hard is. Now, stop this whining, continue your patrol of the ship, or you I'll happily sign your transfer orders to another, more relaxed unit. Would you like that?"

"No ma'am," Durak replied. "I-I just want to fight and to be treated fairly."

Naxea was silent for a moment as she studied the young Cardassian. "I understand you fought well against the Jem' Hadar before they disappeared. As long as you keep that level of intensity up, you'll be treated fairly. Slack off and I'll be on you just as I would anyone else in my Detachment. Understood?"

Durak nodded. "Yes ma'am."

"Good. Carry on, PFC Durak," Naxea ordered.

"Aye, ma'am."

Naxea couldn't help but to hold some admiration for Durak as she watched him go--the young Marine was pushing himself to fit in. She looked back to the scorched bulkhead and continued with her patrol.