Bogey Man
Posted on 23 Apr 2023 @ 11:33am by Major Declan Finn & Lieutenant Tahriik
Mission:
M3 - Into the Deep
Location: Korin - Mining Facility
Timeline: Immediately following Fire Team
4915 words - 9.8 OF Standard Post Measure
The arrival of the Demophon had sent the forces attacking Mamello and Drakes into a hasty retreat, but it wasn’t as all encompassing of a win as expected. Those warriors, knowing the layout far better than them, had circled around the area and were now reinforcing the growing number of warriors attacking the remnants of the original fire team. Those forces too had been wise enough to put some distance between themselves and the Demophon but were still a potent force intent on silencing the Marines holed up deeper in the mining facility rounds.
Drakes led their fire team through the streets of the facility, taking cover best he could with Tahriik behind and O’Shaughnessy bringing up the rear in standard formation. They could hear the battle ahead and were moving warily to make sure they didn’t get taken in the open moving from cover to cover. They had reached the end of the row of utility buildings and Drakes could now see where the others were holed up.
Remnants of a wall demarcated the start of a path down towards the crest of the mountain and the Pyrryx facility there. He could see the two Marines periodically pop up to lay fire, leaving him to wonder where the third was. His heart clenched a bit thinking one of them was down. In the rubble of the area in front of the fire team the aquatics were taking cover and firing on their position. The problem was that they weren’t in a good position to assault and neither was Drakes. The angle that they’d approached on was at an oblique angle to where the rest of the fire team was - not a true flanking maneuver. They needed to proceed much farther down the way to do that, but there were too many buildings in rubble to get past.
“I can see them,” Drakes said, shifting back from his vantage back into cover to talk to the other two. “But they’re right there,” he said, pointing through the building. “And we can’t get through the mountain cliffs there to get to them. Not without getting shot,” he explained. “We need to flank them properly.”
“Or make them to think we are,” Tahriik suggested.
Drakes looked at him, then smirked. “Draw them out?” He asked.
“Yes,” Tahriik nodded, “Make them to think we are coming from that position. It will give us cover to extract the others. I will go. You will get the others.”
“It’s too dangerous, Tahriik,” O’Shaughnessy shook her head, her Irish lilt as thick as his biceps. “We can get them on the short-wave, tell them what we’re doing and draw them out together,” she suggested.
“Agreed,” Drakes added. “One person alone is not a good idea.”
He frowned, not because he disagreed but because the other options weren’t good. “Move,” he ordered Drakes and then crept to look down the path as well to ascertain their position versus the enemy. He assessed it for a long moment and then came back. “There are two buildings, right along the path. We go there. Lay suppressing fire. Try to move the enemy lines back, or force them into cover enough the others can join us. Then we retreat the way we have come,” he ordered, shifting back so both of them could stick their heads around the corner and have a look.
“Alright,” they agreed in unison.
“I will go last,” Tahriik offered.
“You better not be going last to go make a diversion,” O’Shaugnessy thumped his shoulder. “If you are, I’ll do worse than kill you. I’ll tell Aih’Lan how reckless you were!” She threatened him. As beastly of a being as he was, his wife was just as strong and strong-willed. If she knew he was risking his life needlessly, she would have had him dead to rights.
Tahriik smirked, “I follow because I am larger. They may not see you. They will see me.”
“Better be,” she wagged a finger at him again, shifting past to get into position. “Ok. Drakes. Scoot and cover. You lead.”
“Hoorah, Sergeant,” Drakes nodded. He leaned out, took a look around and then hustled off to the next cover.
Kat moved forward, watching warily to make sure he got into his position and the moved to the next. Casting one look back at Tahriik she said, “Right behind me.”
He just nodded and watched her go. Once she had moved to her second cover, he hustled out as well and together they moved forward one at a time hustling to cover and then condensing up before moving up again. The Marines clearly knew what they were doing and had practiced this plenty whereas Tahriik was much less fluid in his motions. He’d trained in this, but didn’t have the repetition that they did.
They reached the end of their route and Drakes edged to the cover he needed before making his run for the forward position. He checked with the two others, looked one more time and then as the Marines holed up fired on the enemy, he took off and slid into cover. As O’Shaughnessy moved up, Tahriik could see the holed up Marines now wise to their plan and were adjusting their fire accordingly.
The Sergeant was up next and like Drakes waited for the covering fire and then hustled out. Drakes stayed down so as not to give away their plan. She quickly slid into a covering spot as well and adjusted herself, ready to lay down her supporting fire to draw the others up and make their retreat. She pointed to a spot she thought best for Tahriik and he nodded, then waited for his chance. As the Marines laid down fire once more, he took off.
The jig was up as Tahriik ran out. Either they had noticed the Marines and were ready, or the fact that he couldn’t run in a crouch and not be seen had him immediately noticeable. Within a few steps of bolting from cover, several strange looking orbs were lobbed from the enemy side, landing ten yards in front of him. A light on the top was blinking, making it clear these were grenades of some sort. Ahead of him, O’Shaughnessy was scrambling out of her open cover to the blast to find a better one. Enemy fire was now coming to life all around him and so going back where he’d come from wasn’t an option. He had no choice but to jump over the rubble back towards the enemy, running far as he could to the flank to try and put himself out of the way of the blast and not directly in their line of fire.
The grenades exploded with a resounding report and sent dirt and debris everywhere. The blast was close enough that the concussion wave hit him in the back and sent him to the ground where he tumbled into a pile of rubble, then got up and jumped over it to find better cover.
He was alone now. He could see where O’Shaughnessy and Drakes should have been but the Marines previously holed up weren’t moving. Either that meant one or more of his guys were down, or he just had a bad angle. Either way, they weren’t his problem now. He was theirs. He had to get out of this isolated position. A diversion on a flank was one thing. Preplanned and executed well. This was a free for all and he had no idea how good his position was. Maybe he was lucky and they didn’t know he was there. A small silver lining to a really bad situation.
Tahriik moved quickly from his limited cover, spotting a better position not that far away. He moved at the same time the enemy did and twenty aquatics went surging past his new position right before he went to take it. Skittering to a stop as best as he could, he leapt over a wall of rubble and found himself exposed on the right, his back facing the engagement but with good cover in front of him and to his left. He quickly pivoted left and started to run, hearing footsteps behind him. Worried, he turned back to see who was on top of him, when something collided with him and hit him so hard he fell back over the low wall and into open space.
He wasn’t a small person by any Terran standards and by most standards of Starfleet. Even Capellan’s, arguably the most stout of beings, were relatively small in comparison. Yet whomever had hit him had sent his three-hundred pound frame over the wall with relative ease. Tahriik rolled across the ground and bounded up to his feet, now finding himself in the wide open with no cover to speak of
The entire engagement was in front of him. He could see the aquatics taking cover amongst the rubble, trying to push forward utilizing weapons that weren’t the simple variant that he’d seen among the one’s they’d saved Mamello et all from. These were sophisticated, particle-based weapons similar to the Federation variety but with a much more potent punch. To his left, obscured from view of the rest of the Marines behind a few facility buildings was another Marine. His EVA suit was in tatters, his helmet gone and his face bloodied and scratched. He had a K-Bar in one hand, turned around and his other hand out in a guard as he waited for the larger, armored warrior he was facing to come forward and fight.
But Tahriik only had a moment to spare on that as the thing that had hit him bounded over the wall and landed heavily on the ground in front of him. It was a primal creature wearing rough armor over thick corded muscle. Its arms were slightly longer than a normal bi-pedal creatures would be and thick too with more muscle. The creature had dark, hairy fur over most of its body and an elongated face and mouth.
Tahriik’s blood ran cold. A vivid nightmare of his youth flashed across his mind as he looked at the being and remembered being a small child, scared to nightmares by the stories his Great Mother had told him. The great savages of the old world. The stealers of children. The blood-thirsty, heartless beings of Geuraani lore. His people had vivid imaginations and their oral history had been passed down by the Great Mother’s to all her progeny. He had heard the stories and even told them to his own children of the Po’rh’an, the blood-thirsty ones. He’d never had such a purely primal reaction to a being he’d never seen. Nor such a unwarranted matching of his childhood stories to something living and breathing. But he raised his weapon just the same.
As it dropped to the ground it let out a blood curdling battle-cry as it pounded its chest and bellowed, “Doru’maka!!”
Tahriik began to raise his weapon, but the beast charged at him with such speed he knew he’d never get it up in time, so he prepared to fight and took the charge against his side in a pivot and tossed the creature aside in a kung-fu deflection that would have made his instructors at the Academy proud. The creature tumbled but corrected its fall and was back on its feet in no time, now looking at Tahriik more warily.
It roared once more at him, spittle flying dramatically from its mouth. “DORUMAKA PO ROH AN!!” It roared pounding its chest and the ground more and started to charge again.
The words hit Tahriik as hard as the physical blow had, and with a surge of anger, fear, hatred and gut instinct he bellowed back. “Gal’DAH!!” He cried just as loudly as the primate. “GEURAANI GAL’DAH!” He bellowed again, reaching behind his back and drawing the blade. The creature stopped, staring at him in disbelief, backing up a half step uncertainly, eyeing him and then the blade.
The weapon on his back was a long dagger for someone of Tahriik’s size, but more like a sword for Terran’s, with a brown leather handle and a short cross guard. Unlike most Terran daggers, it was not a straight blade but a long wavy one. He drew it out slowly and holding it upside down, walked towards the beast slowly and pounded it against his chest. “GEURAANI GAL’DAH!!” He repeated again and this time he charged. The primate roared in answer and charged as well.
The creature was strong and danced out of the way of Tahriik’s blade, swinging back in answer, but he took the blows on his guard arm or against a flexed bicep to keep the blow from staggering him. They went back and forth scurrying away from the engagement area as they battled with one another, blow on blow, the blade only making occasional contact with the stronger and faster primate warrior who roared with ferocity and fury as its blows were blocked or took glancing onces off its own armor.
A hard blow connected with the side of Tahriik’s face, turning him away and the beast tried to go for his feet and overcompensated. Tahriik was able to catch the planned blow by charging at him like a Terran linebacker, jabbing his blade upwards through the hip gap in its armor and slamming it into a wall with full force. Screaming with rage he slammed it into the wall, withdrew the blade and stabbed it three more times through the beasts armor, piercing it with brute strength until it was obvious the beast was dead.
“GEURAANI GAL’DAH!!” He bellowed once more, as if the creature could hear him in the afterlife.
He removed his blade and let the beast go and it fell to the ground, a limp form. Tahriik was bleeding from a few scratches and his blade was covered in blood, but he just stood there staring at the dead beast, heaving for breath, trying to understand how this was possible. This thing was a fairy tale. A nightmare told to the young. Devils of the dark times, before science and technology transformed their world. They weren’t real. They couldn’t be real. Yet here was one in the flesh. It had said so. It had said it’s name: Po’rh’an. How was that possible? Was he hallucinating? Was this a dream of some sort? A blood rage like his ancestors were said to have had?
Tahriik stepped away from the corpse, uncertain what was going on, and turned to his right. He was near the fighting with the Pyrryx and the other Marine. He needed to get to him, get him out and get everyone back to the ship. He turned that way and saw the Marine on the ground some thirty yards away, struggling to get back to his feet. His attacker, the Pyrryx wasn’t paying attention to the Marine though, he was staring at Tahriik.
The Pyrryx warrior was massive, compared to the Marine, a few inches shorter than Tahriik but still quite expansive. His armor was impressively ornate and had once held a crimson cape that he could see in tatters on his back. Whatever was visible of his face was hidden behind the carefully crafted armor, but as he stared, the Pyrryx took a step forward and then the faceplate of the helm split down the center and the two halves disappeared noiselessly into the sides of the helm.
A fair-skinned warrior looked back at him. He had dark blonde, almost golden colored hair and lilac colored eyes. The warrior had a stout, wide chin, powerful looking jaw and a stubble of beard visible. His brow was thicker than he’d expected, almost jutting forward like a Klingon’s might. But he looked on at Tahriik with a hateful, yet uncertain expression.
Tahriik wasn’t certain what this Pyrryx had planned, so he shook out his his shoulders, rolled his neck and took a fighting stance, blade down in the traditional pose. The Pyrryx snarled at him angrily, and put his left hand to his right forearm. Staring at Tahriik as if to bore a hole through his head with his sight alone, he drew a blade from his armor. It was a long dagger with a polished handle to match his armor, a short cross-guard and a long wavy blade.
Tahriik watched the blade and felt another chill run down his spine. It was a Le’uor’ix blade. The same blade as what was in his hand. He shook his head. This didn’t make any sense. Po’rh’an in the flesh, now a warrior with a Le’ur’ix blade. No. This was not possible. This was a hallucination, it had to be. The aquatics had hit him with some kind of a sonic blast that had knocked him senseless. He was in the Sick Bay back on Theseus. He’d wake up any minute now and see his wife, Doctor Corduke and laugh about how vivid this dream was later.
The Pryyrx drew the blade to his mouth and ran it across his tongue, drawing blood and then spat the red glob onto the ground at Tahriik’s feet. Meeting his eyes defiantly, it said, “Thalak-koorlh,” slow and loud, making sure the insult was obvious.
A fury like nothing Tahriik had ever felt boiled up inside of him. He had lived his life according to the standards of his people. He followed tradition as much as possible when so many of his own kind had chosen to follow more Federation ideal. He had married a woman of similar conviction and they had raised their children this way. Vaunting the culture of his people, the Gueraani, above all others. He’d been called many things in his time, as a child and as an adult but no being anywhere in the known galaxy had ever called him this. A Thalak-koorlh. A blood traitor. There was no more profound insult. But he would be the last to make that mistake.
The Pyrryx glared at him, well aware that he’d struck a nerve. He readied his stance and Tahriik did the same, preparing to fight. One he had no doubt was to the death.
As the two of them took a wary step towards one another, the Pyrryx flinched in surprise as the Marine he’d been fighting leapt onto his back, arm around his neck and stabbing furiously with his K-Bar into the unarmored flesh about its neck.
“Did you forget about me, you bastard!” Finn bellowed, stabbing furiously with great effect.
The Pyrryx howled and charged at the wall nearest him, turning at the last moment to slam Finn into it. The Marine grunted, clearly seeing stars from the impact, but holding on tight and still stabbing best he could. The Pyrryx managed him off his back, the K-Bar still in his chest. It stepped away from the wall and yanked it from his chest to throw it at Finn but Tahriik was on him, catching the arm and slashing with his Le’uor’ix blade under the armpit where the armor was weak. It howled in fury and swung its blade back at Tahriik and the battle was joined and the pair of them scuffled violently away.
Major Finn slumped against the wall, trying to catch his breath, and then pushed unsteadily off and went for his weapons, seeing more than a few stars. The adrenalin of the fight was definitely starting to wane now and he could feel the pain all over his body from blows he couldn’t rightly remember. But he could see his Marines up ahead still laying fire, and with the Pyrryx and the beast of a Fleet officer fighting and shuffling that direction. He decided he’d use them for cover and stared moving that way.
Declan shuffled behind broken walls and buildings until he got near enough to the engagement that he could see his Marines. His weapon wasn’t in the best shape, its charge was dwindling and he’d tried to use it as a beat stick on the Pyrryx which had done damage of its own. He wasn’t ready to trust it in a full fire fight just yet. He dared stick his head out from cover to see if he could signal his men.
But his Marines weren’t watching him, nor were they watching the enemy. They were watching the massive Starfleet Officer and the Pyrryx who were fighting ferociously with one another. Declan had seen more than a little of battle, and quite a few engagements that ended in hand-to-hand combat but he’d never seen anything like this. Maybe it was the sheer size of the two of them, but there was definitely a ferocity to their engagement that transcended reason. Starfleet were pacifists, not hard-charging brutes yet this officer, this Lieutenant he’d never met was more than holding his own with the Pyrryx that Declan had barely been able to make a scratch on. A scratch he’d only been able to get really because the salty old Marine they’d come for had softened him up. He was praying that it hadn’t cost him his life.
What was stranger still was that the aquatics had abandoned their assault. All were watching, many simply standing there spectating what was happening as if it was the most important thing in the world right now. Declan didn’t know what that meant, but he took the chance and broke from cover to another cover, running in full view of the aquatics for a moment and dropping behind a low crumbled wall, bracing for the inevitable fire that was about to come down on him. But. Nothing happened. He dared peek his head out again and still the aquatics were watching the brawl, eyes glued to it. Declan crept around to an opening, stepped out and then started to run towards his Marines. Several aquatics glanced at him, but none fired. Confused, he stopped running and trotted, then just walked.
“The hell is happening here?” Finn asked as he hopped over a bit of rubble and joined Drakes who was leaned over it, weapon still up and ready.
“Hell if I know,” he answered, stupefied by the goings on.
There was a shuffle behind them and he looked back to see Parveaux and Eindorf hustling over along with a face he hadn’t seen in a while. Sergeant O’Shaughnessy smirked at him, “Come here often, Major?” She asked brightly.
Declan reached out to fist bump Kat and gestured out to the fight, “You’re with him?” He asked.
“Yeah, that’s Lieutenant Tahriik. Our Chief Tactical Officer,” she nodded. “The Demophon’s on the ground this way,” he said, gesturing back. “We should take positions and work our way back.”
“No, we stay put. We came here to make sure no one was left behind, we’re not leaving him. Let’s move into better cover in case these locals decide to change their mind,” he ordered, redirecting where everyone took their position and gratefully taking a spare weapon from Drakes and some grenades.
The rest of the team took their new positions, but it was obvious that they weren’t the focus anymore. Declan shook his head, continuing to watch the fight. The two warriors had now squared off again, pacing in a circle around one another, blades out. The Pyrryx warrior was bleeding through onto his armor from the neck where Declan had gotten him and from most of the joints of his armor. Tahriik was bleeding from a gash on his neck, several on his arms and one long, arcing one across the middle of his chest. Neither was out of the fight.
It reminded Declan of some of the novels he’d read as a kid; knights in armor battling against one another as part of huge armies which parted to allow the champions to fight it out in single combat. The soldiers of the grand battle reduced to spectators to watch the fight, knowing its victor would decide who was ultimately victorious. That didn’t seem like it had a place in modern warfare, yet here they were.
Finn was nervous about it. It didn’t seem right. As if there was something brewing and he simply hadn’t spotted the tell yet. Rolling his neck as he thought about it, he decided he wasn’t happy with this.
“Kat,” he said, waving her over. She shuffled to his side. Eindorf was already there. “I don’t like this. Defensive positions aren’t good enough. I want a collapsing retreat perimeter,” he ordered. “I’ll form point and try to make it clear to Tahriik what we’re doing,” he explained quickly. “Goal is to get back to the ship and get off th-,” he stopped.
Everyone snapped over to Parveaux who had just started firing his weapon rapidly. Everyone hurried back to cover, weapons up, pointed to the locals. But… they were just standing there, still watching the fight.
“Parveaux!?” Finn called out, “Wh-,” he started to ask, but Parveaux had scrambled back from his cover on his butt, still firing. The reason why bounded over the wall a moment later, bellowing at him, the shots ringing off the war armor it was wearing. It was another of the giant ape-like warriors that they had seen peppered in with the locals.
“Oh, shit!” O’Shaughnessy cried out, turning her weapon on it.
The lot of them opened fire on the beast, which was now taking fire from three directions, finally hobbling it to a knee.
A roar of fury behind them all turned their attention again to see the huge Pyrryx charging at Parveaux who had scrambled well out from cover and was not exposed. He tried to turn his weapon on the massive warrior, but it swatted it aside and grabbed him by front of his EVA then slammed his opposite hand through the glass, punching through it like it was made of paper mache.
Tahriik was on his heels, but the Pyrryx had grabbed Parveaux by the neck of his suit and by the leg and hefted him over his head and threw him at Tahriik like he was a javelin. The massive Starfleet Officer could have stepped out of the way, but he knew that would have killed the Marine so he did what the Pyrryx wanted and caught the man. The weight of him and the momentum knocked Tahriik down and he dropped his blade. It gave the Pyrryx the opening he wanted and he charged at Tahriik now.
Declan had been reserving fire so as not to get in Tahriik’s way, but they had open space now, plus the bastard had just thrown his Marine like a lawn dart, he wasn’t holding back now. He opened fire immediately and to his left Eindorf followed suit. This time Declan was on his feet and moving from cover as well, taking a flanking position. Eindorf moved as well, taking an opposite flanking position so that he was getting fire from two direction. To Declan's right, something exploded and he turned to see what was left of the ape looking creature as nothing more than a bloody stump and O'Shaughnessy a few feet away, covered in a great deal of it. She got up and started laying fire on the Pyrryx as well.
The Pyrryx turned to charge at Declan, clearly having written off Eindorf and O'Shaugnessy as unworthy. Finn recognized what was happening and began to backpedal to keep his distance. The Pyrryx roared at him, bracing to charge. He never got the chance as Tahriik barred into the side of him like a ten ton freight train and both went tumbling through a low stone wall that had been part of the facility now in shambles around them, rolling the together through the rubble the direction that they needed to go.
Declan watched them go and then realized the opportunity, “Drakes! Go! Collapse the line!” He barked out, waving the way Tahriik and the warrior went. If they could go with them, collapse their line and defend it back to the ship than they could get out of here. He slung his weapon and ran for Parveaux. The man was unconscious, so he rolled him onto his back and pulled him up over his shoulder to carry and hustled back to join the others, waving at Eindorf. "Go, go!" he barked, hoping that there were no more hitches. If they could get clear of this area, and get back towards the shuttle they had a chance. From there the could get Tahriik on board with the rest of his team and retreat. They got what they’d come for with Wallace, now they just needed to get the hell out of Dodge. Quick.
