How it all began (Part 1)

Posted on Wednesday August 21st, 2019 @ 1:41am by Commodore Gregory Paladin & Lieutenant Commander Freya Mannerheim

1,565 words; about a 8 minute read

Mission: Departure and Trial Run
Location: Imperial Starfleet Academy, San Francisco, Terra
Timeline: Spring 2390; Pre-Poseidon; Mirror Universe

Night had fallen by the time Freya returned to the academy. As so often, she had snuck out of the academy and into the city. She knew that if she was to get caught, she would suffer harsh punishment, but she was willing to take the risk. There was so much more to learn by going to the city!

She slowed down as she reached the perimeter fence, edging along to the gap she had used to leave earlier the same day. She had just squeezed through when she saw two security guards walking in her direction. They appeared to not have seen her yet, so she hid behind a bush as they marched past. When she was certain they were out of earshot, she darted out of her hiding spot and towards the dorms.

The young cadet had just rounded a corner when she felt her whole body go numb. Unable to move, she fell to the ground, face first. A moment later, she was grabbed and turned around.

"Well, well, well," a gruff voice said. "What have we here. Cadet sneaking around the grounds after curfew? Probably gone to the city through that gap in the fence, eh?" Roughly, the guard hauled her to her feet and placed her in handcuffs. "Oh, and a pretty one, too! Oh how I would enjoy teaching you a lesson!" He laughed. "Still, the Commodore said he wanted to oversee the discipline of any cadets found violating the curfew. Shame really, from what I've heard. You wish it'd been me!"

Moments later, the guard shoved her into the Commodore's office. "Commodore Paladin, sir. Caught one." The guard clenched his fist against his chest and then extended his arm, saluting the officer sat at the desk. "You requested to be brought anyone violating curfew, sir. We caught this one on her way back to the dorm. Out of uniform and all, probably went down into the city."

Commodore Paladin turned around. His features matched for all the world those of his Prime Universe counterpart - unbeknownst to him nor Freya at the present time - save for one thing; a long scar down from his right eye to his chin. It was a war scar, an honor to display, his defeat of the prior Commodore of the Academy after the man refused to honorably relinquish his station. Gregory had chosen to keep it, but in doing so, lost the vision in his right eye. Both bad and good eyes glared down at the Cadet brough to him, a glimmer in the one still lively. He waved the guard away with a nod.

"You have done well," the Commodore said, his voice harsh and deep. "She will make a fine addition for what I have planned for such...discipline..."

The trailing off left the guard in a smirk, who backed out and left. The Commodore, however, had no intention of making the thought that cause the smirk to be reality. He had other plans. It was just so convenient that this cadet was brought before him.

"Stand up, disgrace," he growled at the young woman.

Her hands still cuffed, and her prosthetic leg nearly disabled by the stun beam, Freya stood as upright as possible, and glared at the Commodore defiantly. She did not, however, feel brave enough to say anything.

His head rose a bit, appraising the young lady with a tad bit more respect now. The Commodore nodded his head slowly, then walked over to his desk. There, he withdrew a stun baton. He examined it, carefully.

"I had originally planned to find me a suitable scientific subject to test my new tracking devices," Gregory said, not looking Freya's way. "It was intended to be completely voluntary, a scientific endeavor, one of the few areas in our backwards society that enables true collaboration between peers; no fights, no death, just pure education."

His head turned Freya's way, a glare as cold as ice. "Then you came along. I was reminded of my station, my duty as your Commodore," he said, literally seething the word. "But you will do, and once I'm done with you, you'll help me whether you want to or not."

A few steps towards her, then, as he closed the gap, he struck her with the stun baton on the side of her body and unleashed the painful burst of electricity.

Freya tried her hardest to not let any sound escape her as she collapsed to the ground in pain. She had been taught not to show any weakness, and she was determined to not do so now. No matter the cost.

The Commodore nodded, "Very good, you didn't scream. How long can you hold out, I wonder?"

The baton came again, swinging it so it slammed into her back.

Freya clenched her teeth together, but she could not stop a small yelp from escaping her. She knew this would continue until she broke, but she would not make it easy. She was a warrior of Nygard, and an officer of the Imperial Starfleet, she told herself. She had managed to stay conscious as half her leg was ripped off in an explosion. She could bear this.

The strikes would continue, intermittently and slowly, until he would see her budge further against the floor. Then, after that long time of punishment that borderlined on torture, he rose and put away the baton.

"That was the required punishment for abandonment of duty," he said through short breaths, exhausted, it seemed, from the exertion. "Now you will remember that pain, and never again repeat the act. If you ignore the pain, more will be provided."

Freya stayed down for a moment, catching her breath, before she tried to stand up. Her prosthetic leg did not respond. She sat up and looked at the Commodore, not even trying to hide her hate. "And how exactly do you expect me to perform any duties if you destroy my leg?"

"To struggle is to survive, girl," growled the man. He stood there, watching her. "Stand up or I'll beat you again."

With a smirk, Freya pulled up her skirt and detached the useless prosthetic, before grabbing the stun baton out of the Commodore's hand. Using the baton as a crutch, she pulled herself up. "I will still need that fixed," she said, panting with exhaustion.

The Commodore smirked, grabbing the prosthetic and examining it. He placed it on his desk, then took a step closer, face to face with her. He made sure her eyes were on his.

"You're going to hate me, you're going to want to kill me, and to that I say 'Good'," the Commodore said, his tone strict and without empathy. "By the end of your tenure at this Academy, I'll make a Terran out of you, or I'll throw you in the trash where you belong."

Freya said nothing. Balancing on her leg, she quickly switched on the baton and swung it at the Commodore's crotch. "You are wrong in one thing," she spat out. "I am not just going to want to kill you. I am going to succeed."

To his credit, the Commodore somehow managed to stand his ground. His expression visibly shook from the impact, but instead of the usual falling over, he took out his pain with a punch to her face; he pulled back his arm, fist clenched, pain intensifying in his body as he used all of it to swing at her jaw. He never cried out or spoke a word, simply retaliated as after the punch, he'd slightly keel over and rest an arm on his desk.

Freya managed to dodge the punch, but lost her balance and ended up back on the floor. Cursing under her breath, she reached for the baton and pushed herself back up.

Gaining some composure, he took in a sharp breath. Reaching into his drawer, he pulled out an insertion device and roughly stepped toward Freya. Gregory grabbed her shoulder, pushed her down, then slammed the device against her neck as he forcefully put a tracking device in her. Then, swiftly, he brought his knee up to slam into her chin.

Freya yelped in pain as she swung the baton back at the Commodore, before pulling herself up again, using the weapon for balance. "Let's call this one a draw, shall we?", she said, wiping her face with her sleeve. "As you know, I have classes to attend, and I need to clean myself up. And I am sure you have more important things to do, too, sir."

The Commodore eyed her suspiciously. Good, the knee kick masked the pain of the insertion. He slowly nodded, almost snarling at her.

"Get out of my sight," he spat.

------

Freya woke with a start. "Computer, lights!", she called out, trying to orient herself, before she realised. She was on the U.S.S. Poseidon. In a parallel universe. Paladin could not hurt her here. She shook her head and reached for her prosthetic leg next to her bed, attaching it to its socket, and walked towards the replicator, before changing her mind.

"Computer, time?"

"0300 hours."

With a sigh, she quickly threw on the nearest clothes she could find. With a bit of luck, that bottle of whisky was still where she left it, behind the bar in the officers' lounge...

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