Holodeck Chats pt 4 : Final part.

Posted on Sunday November 19th, 2023 @ 11:24am by Lieutenant Stan More & Gunnery Sergeant Maximilian Pfaffenheim

1,946 words; about a 10 minute read

Mission: The Grand Tour: Part Two
Location: Holodeck
Tags: Character Development.

[ON]

Dirt and gravel crunched under the feet of the two men as they made their way off the open field, finding themselves in a serene (though somewhat dark) forest. Admittedly, Max had to agree with Stan - their weaponry was hardly representative of what the program was supposed to be. To be entirely fair, it wasn't like this place and period of time were his strong suit, but something a little more appropriate would likely be needed.

He was just about to voice his lack of certainty about whether the program would provide something in that regard, when the unmistakeable smell of smoke reached them. Peering further down the path ahead revealed a scene that lay at odds with the supposedly calm and peaceful atmosphere of the woods. The path was dominated by a cart - or rather, what had been a cart, now little more than a pile of vaguely cart-shape embers. Remnants of what might have been sacks were strewn around it, and some white grain had been spilled all over the path.

Stan knelt down and examined the ground. Whoever attacked the cart had been on horse back. But he could not properly count the number of horseman as the prints where to muddled up. He looked over the debris and shook his head. This was not a robbery because by the looks of things all the contents of the cart had been destroyed. As Stan examined more of the ground he noticed drag marks leading off towards the mountain area.

“ Looks like they were only interested in destroying the cart. No sign of any human remains but judging by these wee drag marks. They took the owner of the cart away hurt but alive. Probably stole the creature pulling the cart as well. I’d say they headed off towards those mountains over yonder.” Stan said

Looking around, Max could not find a single person alive - or even dead, for that matter. A few weapons, swords and spears, were strewn about as if hastly dropped. "Sounds like it... whoever was guarding it is gone too. Any reason you could think of?", he replied, picking up one of the spear and finding it to be an solidly made yari. "Well, at least this explains where and when we are... roughly. Any idea what the reason might've been?"

Stan looked at the weapon Max was holding.

“ Well. That’s a Japanese weapon. Judging by the way it’s styled this is feudal Japan. It’s possible the people pushing the cart got in the way of some Imperial soldiers on patrol. I would say they were probably dragged off to some palace in yonder mountains to have limbs removed for not getting out the way sooner. Perhaps the guards thought they were spies then it’s an eye ball or two for sure. This area must be ruled by on hell of a bastard.” Stan surmised.

Max grimaced at the mention of the cruel torture. "Just for not sidestepping in time? That sounds like something out of ancient Klingon history...", he replied, turning to Stan. Before he could continue speaking, however, a sudden coughing noise interrupted their discussion. Leaned against a nearby tree, armor shattered, and a broken blade sticking out of his abdomen, a soldier lay. Evidently, their arrival had awoken whatever fleeting vitality he possessed.

Although, to Max, this one seemed different from the other bodies. The equipment overall seemed more... refined. Two sheaths for swords were present at the man's side, and a mask covered the parts of his face not hidden by his helmet. However, unlike the guards, his armor bore no identifying marks whatsoever.

Stan looked at him and shook his head.

“ This guy must of been a solider of fortune or a Ronen. Perhaps he stopped to help the cart owner. But those wee laddies over powered him. These lands were notorious for these guys. Moving from village to village wrighting wrongs.” Stan said.

"Well, maybe if he's alive he can tell us what the hell-", Max began, before the mortally wounded figure cut him off by speaking themselves.

"Perhaps if you... *cough*... quiet and listen!", the man began with a strained, hoarse voice. His face was still hidden behind the fearsome-looking mask, but neither Max nor Stan needed to see it to know he was mobilizing his last reserve of strength. "Your friend is not wrong... does not matter now, though. We sent one of ours as a runner to the village, south, but the bastards were mounted. Some even ronin themselves, the honorless curs!", he spat, which was followed by another coughing fit. "I doubt he made it."

Another cough followed as a trickle of blood started pouring from behind the man's mask, but his eyes fixed on the two Starfleet men with barely decreased intensity. "You must! You must go and tell the village elder!", he almost yelled at the two in as authoritative a voice as a dying man could muster. "Take what you wish for payment if you gaijin do not consider honor enough, but go! And tell him, you were sent by Igarashi Akio!"

Stan looked at Max.

“ Well have to take his weapons. His armour may be too big for me. But it should fit you I can ask for the computer for a smaller size. We ought to look like Ronen masterless Samurai. Which I now guess this guy is. This Igarashi Akio will not accept us otherwise we need to look like this poor guys colleges.” Stan advised

At this, the man gave off what would have passed for an annoyed grunt had it not been accompanied by an agonized groan. "Do not pretend... all of us are gone, and that includes Igarashi - or at least it will, given he is currently dying before two insolent foreigners!", he grunted, with a tinge of humor at the last sentence. However, another bout of pain wracked the man as his strength was fading away quickly. "Do what you must, but time is of the essence..."

From what Max could make out, the warrior's statement was no exaggeration. A blunt force impact seemed to have hit him in the abdomen, and while he could only hazard a guess as to what lethal damage this had dealt, the broken blade sticking out of a gap in the armor clearly indicated someone had decided to finish the job. The Ronin indeed was on his last legs, shooing the two away as Max attempted to inspect the wound.

After a moment's hesitation, Max stood up again, looking around on the ground. "I'm not sure I'll fit either... let's get weapons first and then ask the computer underway.", he suggested, picking up the yari lying next to the fallen Ronin. "Igarashi Akio, my companion and I will do our utmost to fulfill this task!", he then added in-character, towards the fallen warrior.

Stan looked up in the far distance he could see smoke rising. Some birds flew away from the area as if something had scared them.

“ We better get moving that looks serious. I am afraid we cannot help this poor chap. Nor does he wish our help. Let’s call up an arch and dress accordingly my friend.” Stan suggested.

Max nodded slowly, looking down at the chainmail he still wore.

----

Beneath the canopies, hidden from view on the narrow path, the two figures moved at a steady but quick pace. While they had decided that being stealthy was likely useful if the perpetrators were still in the area, speed was of the essence if they wanted to reach the village in time. The riders, so the two had agreed, were most likely simply a small raiding force - they would report back to their bosses first.

Max had doffed his colorful clothes and chainmail, though their replacements still practically screamed 'foreigner'. High-cut boots, chestplate and morion helmet completed an overall simple outfit, such as would typically have been found on a Portugese or Dutch mercenary of the time.

Stan was not sure how many Scots got this far during the time period. So he chose the same clothing as Max. But to explain his accent he wore a mask that would cover the bottom half of his face. If anyone asked he would say his lower half of his face was badly scared. Due to the many people who he had encountered who wished to end his life. This would also muffle his voice and hid his accent.

Max hefted his new weapon, a Japanese polearm of some kind. To be fair, he simply could have opted for the rapier currently hanging at his side, but this was likely to be more interesting. Besides, the ronin had told them 'they' had been mounted. "So, what do you figure we're dealing with?", he asked Stan, though being careful not to speak too loudly so as to remain somewhat stealthy (at least, as stealthy as the two could be in their gear). "Personally, my money's on bandits, but it could also be a raiding party of some kind. They did have horses, apparently, so they're likely at least a little competent...", he suggested.

“ Horses tip the anti so to speak. In this time period a horse was an expensive thing to buy. So either they stole them which makes them thieves. Considering the penalty for stealing a horse in this time. Being a very nasty form of death. Ruthless and difficult to battle against or they’re part of an army. Either the Emperor or the local Shogun which means they’re either soldiers or Samurai. Although Samurai usually go on foot. But either way just as hard to fight against.” Stan said.

"Why would soldiers be raiding caravans, though? Lack of pay?", Max asked back. While his interests did include pre-Warp history, this was not an area of expertise for him. On the other hand, Stan seemed to know what he was talking about.

By now, the path was changing. What had started as a barely used path suddenly widened, and the undergrowth was replaced by mud in which tracks were clearly visible. "At 12, straight ahead!", Max suddenly hushed before ducking behind an overturned log.

As the warrior had predicted with his final breaths, their runner had not made it very far. Leaning against a tree, the man looked more like a porcupine with the amount of splintered lances he had been pierced by. Max inhaled sharply. "Not a good way to go.", he commented in hushed tones. The ground near the body looked trampled heavily, and the sergeant was about to go take a nearer look when the noise of hooves and conversation sounded the arrival of the perpetrators.

By how the perpetrators were dressed and armed. Stan knew his theory was correct these were not just common raiders but trained soldiers. Although at a closer inspection he could see that their uniforms were not that clean. Which meant they had either decided to go private or they were Ronin. Samurai without a master. Either way he hoped the holodeck safety was on as this was going to be a scrap and a half.

“ Do you fight or hide till they pass then go and warn people?” Stan asked Max

The two friends were just about to move off when a call came through. The Poseidon had arrived at Tellar this meant they were both needed at their duty stations. Agreeing to meet up again soon both men left the holodeck.

[ END ]

Staff Sergeant Maximilian Pfaffenheim
First Sergeant, Marine Detachment
USS Poseidon

And

Lieutenant Stan More
Security
USS Poseidon

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