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SS Sojourner

Post Sim - Venting with Steel

Posted by Commander Wulf Baumann (Intel Officer) in Post Sim - Venting with Steel

Posted by Captain Arialla Bovar (Captain) in Post Sim - Venting with Steel

Posted by Commander Wulf Baumann (Intel Officer) in Post Sim - Venting with Steel
Posted by… suppressed (2) by the Post Ghost! 👻

Baumann looked at the office. It was set up, running smoothly, and had all of his needs met. Going to the desk terminal, he sent a note to the Chief Engineer thanking him for such exceptional work. He sent another message to the Captain and XO, recommending the man for a Commendation. Installation and troubleshooting of such equipment, some of which the CE didnt even know what was, in such a short time was remarkable and the Intelligence Officer wanted to make sure it was noticed.

Stepping away from the desk, he took a breath. It was done… and now there was nothing to distract him from the other issues facing the German. Clenching his jaw, his turned and went out of the office, securing the door. Stepping next door to his quarters, he went in and hastily changed into white pants made of dyneema, a tough, cut resistant material used in fencing outfits. He picked up the shirt and jacket made of the same… and then threw them on the bed, grabbing a white tshirt and pulling it over his head. Going into his closet, he pulled a long, black bag from the floor and hefted it with a grunt onto his shoulder and walked out the door.

He made his way to the Secure Storage section of the Cargo bay and went inside, locking the door behind him. Walking to the middle of the mostly empty space, he set the bag down with a metallic thud. Opening it, he pulled out two long, black cases and set them aside. He then put both arms in the bag and lifted a strange amalgamation of bars, pistons, cylinders, and electrical components. Standing it on end, he lowered the legs into a tripod configuration. Folding out an arm with a vice like device on the end, he then grabbed a battery pack from the bag and plugged it into a receptacle between the legs. Pressing the power button on the small control panel, he watched it light up and the diagnostics begin running. Seeing as it was working, he turned to the cases, opening both.

Inside each case was a beautiful and well maintained sabre. The silver steel of the blade rose from the guard and handle at the base, and the edges and points of each were extremely sharp. Lifting one out, he placed it in the vice on the machine and cinched it tight. He pressed a few buttons on the control panel and then stepped back and retrieved the other blade.

The machine moved slowly; the sabre swinging gracefully in the air in long, sweeping arc. It then paused, and the blade went to the ready position.

Bauman stretched and lumbered up, his jaw grinding his teeth as his mind kept coming back to his first few days on the ship. Finally, he shook his head and turned to the machine. “Level 4 und alle Sicherheitsvorkehrungen deaktiviert.” His words were terse, clipped… angry. The machine paused and then shot the blade forward at Baumann, who parried the blade with his own. Baumann tried to counter attack, but the machine blocked and went on the offensive again.

The back and forth went on for minutes. Beads of sweat formed on Baumann’s brow and arms, and the incessant ringing of steel on steel echoed in the small space.

Baumann thrust his blade, and the machine parried and brought the blade down across his arm. A line of blood flowed from the wound, and Baumann cursed… loudly. His hold on the frustrations, anger, and confusions of the past days was broken by the sudden pain… and the big German bellowed at the top of his lungs. His blade began moving faster, his impacts harder and harder, and the machine was visibly struggling under the assault. Finally, Baumann smashed his blade into the machine’s, twisted his wrist, and the machine’s blade went sailing off and bunching hard off a wall and onto the floor.

Baumann stood in the now quiet room, his head hung down, breathing heavily. Blood ran from his arm, down his hand, and travelling along the blade to drop slowly from the tip and onto the floor.

Baumann, Intel

Ari had been in her ready room about to finish for the day when an alert came up on her console. Someone had locked a security door in the cargo bay. A frown creased her brow. “Who…?” She murmured and slid around in her chair to tap the inquiry.

When she saw who it was, she sighed. She wondered, absently, if it was another section of her ship he was commandeering for his personal use. Sighing, she put her shoes on and headed down to see. The shift had changed, so it wasn’t off for her to pass thru the bridge with a few good byes and head down.

Once there, she tried the door and frowned. Opening the small panel to the right, she entered jet command override code and the door slid open. She stepped in, and froze. Of all the things to go thru her mind, this hadn’t been one of them.

Cpt Ari Bovar
CO

The door opening caused barely a flinch in the Intellligence officer. His only visible reaction, a slight turn of his head before going back to it’s original position. His eyes closed, and the only sound in the room was faint sound of a droplet hitting the floor.

The machine was on standby, having been disarmed. The only odd thing about, if she recalled seeing it during his previous tenure on board, was that the lights were usually green and blue… now they were all red and a small display read “Warnung: alle Sicherheiten deaktiviert Gefahr unmittelbar bevorstehend!”

Baumann, Intel

The lights registered before the blood did. She took a tentative step forward, her voice calm despite the rush of blood in her ears. “Wulf… what are you doing?”

She lifted her foot and slid off one of her boots. Her other foot rose to do the same. The hard heeled shoes set gently on the floor as she moved closer. It was then that she noticed the blood. She took a deep breath, her arm reaching towards him. “Wulf… look at me, please…”

Ari
CO

He didn’t move, not for a long time. Finally, he took a deep breath in and slowly exhaled; and his head rose slowly and looked at her. His voice was somber, quiet… not like him. “I’m sorry for the noise. I didnt think anyone would mind.”

Baumann, Intel

By the time he turned, she was directly in front of him. She hissed a sharp inhale as she saw his arm. Without thinking, she crossed her arms and lifted her uniform shirt off. She didn’t tug the undershirt back down, leaving her stomach bare. Glancing at the wound, she shook her head slowly as she gently placed the material against the cut and pressed down hard.

She blinked back tears, forcing herself to speak. “It wasn’t the noise.” Using the edge of the shirt not stopping the blood, she wiped off surrounding red to make sure there weren’t additional cuts.

Her voice was soft, almost edged with fear. “Do you truly hate me that much?” She nodded to the training dummy, still on kill mode. Her self named setting for it, because of its programmed cruelty on the setting.

Ari
CO

He winced when the cloth touched the wound. And when she asked the question, he just shook his head. He put his own hand on the wound and stepped away from her holding the fabric in place. “Hate you?” and he shook his head and an exasperated laugh escaped him. “No… I dont hate you. Even when I wanted to, I didn’t.”

He set the sword down near its case and bent his arm against him, keeping the wound above his heart. “Please. In my bag, there.” and he gestured with his elbow to the bag by the far wall. “There is a spare shirt. Put it on. Please.” and he went to the machine and shut it down. As he entered the codes he said “If it wasn’t the noise then what… ah. Yes. The door. I forgot that you keep tabs on who accesses this area.” and he stood up and looked at her, his face blank… but there was redness to his eyes that seemed to indicate the look was a facade.

Baumann, Intel

Ari frowned as he took the material and moved his arm out of her reach. Glancing at the bag, she frowned a moment, then moved to the bag. Pulling the jerkin out, she slid it on and fastened it. Turning back to him, she had a look of worry on her face. She glanced at the swords on the floor and wondered if she was about to get a quick lesson in steel. Part of her was scared to death. But the other part of her wanted him to vent on her. It was what she was there for for him. She nodded at his realization and whispered. “Yes… the door.”

Once the jerkin was fastened, she slowly walked back towards him, her hands at her sides, her eyes almost locked to his. “Wulf…” Her voice was soft as a hand rose towards the wound. She knew she was reaching out to a wounded bear with no care for herself. But it didn’t bother her. She had always trusted him with her life. And even if he hurt her, he’d never mortally wound or kill her. “Lemme see....” she nodded to his arm.

Ari
CO

He looked at her and started to protest, then seemed to just give up. He held the arm out to her. Under the cloth was a three inch laceration all the way through the skin. The bleeding had subsided, but he would need medical attention. “I was distracted. I need to practice more.” was all he said.

Baumann, Intel

She growled low and didn’t bother to hide it. Pressing the cloth back, she looked up at him. “I know you said you don’t have to follow my instructions as Captain, so I am going to ask you as Ari… please… Practice with it on half settings.” She looked back at the wound and tied the sleeves of the shirt to keep it in place. She yanked the ends hard to make it tight and hold it closed. Without looking up she sighed. “I can’t afford to lose you again. And certainly not this way.”

Ari
CO

He grunted loudly and sucked air between his clenched teeth as the knots came down. Taking his arm back, he said “You can order me as Captain of this ship. I simply have some leeway as to what orders to follow. In this, you are well within your authority.” and he bent down and picked up the bloodied blade. Retrieving a cloth from the case, he began to wipe it down.

“I will be fine. It’s only lethal at level 4 and higher. This was 3.” he said, lying as he had been trained to do… with a kernel of truth matched with the falsehood. Looking at the blade down it’s length, he added “And my absence from the ship would only serve to make things less… awkward. For almost everyone involved.” and he set the sword in the case.

Baumann, Intel

She shook her head. “No! I’m not ordering you off this ship. You promised you’d be my anchor and sounding board and I would be yours. Obviously within the limitations of your orders of course. But if I have a right to to a say in.....in this,” she motioned to the room, “Then you aren’t to go above level 2 till you are back in shape. And back in shape sufficient enough to prove it to ME if I ask.” She was mad, and her stern demeanor something he hadn’t seen much of. Rage, yes. Indignation, yes. Even pain. But not this. This was all Captain and he was seeing it before his eyes. Something in the last mission had changed her and this had been one of the results.

“Do you understand me, Commander Baumann?” Even the question wasn’t condescending, it was simply a Captain making sure she had been heard and understood.

Ari
CO

Baumann’s spine went rigid, and he slowly turned to look at her. His face was expressionless, but his eyes were ice. This… this was not what he needed or wanted right then; to be scolded by the same person who had him seeking solitude to begin with. Putting his hands behind his back, slightly wincing as the cut pressed against his back, he looked at her and slowly inclined his head… once.

“Yes, Captain. Understood. Completely. And my promise to you holds, even when you choose not to avail yourself of it. Do you prefer I send you regular fitness reports on my regimen? Or should I make appointments to have you observe my practice? First hand observation and all to assure that I am…how did you phrase it?… oh. Yes. ‘Back in shape’.” The words had obviously cut him more deeply than the sabre.

His face remained stoic but his mind screamed at him. She thinks you are broken! That you didnt recover! This isnt about anything other than her guilt! Guilt you were hurt and nearly died. This isnt affection… its pity! and the thoughts made his jaw clench. Through gritted teeth, he said “Now if you will excuse me. I should have medical attend to this. If that is all, Captain?” and he made the last word as pointed as he could. She had set the boundaries, now. He would simply abide by them… as he had promised he would.

Baumann, Intel

Her mind screamed at her. She’d done it again. She had hidden behind the rank to keep him from seeing her fear. He had come in here and gotten hurt on purpose. That’s all she could think of. And now she had driven an even bigger wedge between them cause she didn’t know how to act around him. Everything was going wrong. She bit her lip, her own jaw clenching till she dropped her red abused piece of skin and turned for the door. “That’s all, Commander.” The words were still biting. But if she didn’t hold to her anger she would break down again and she was sore throated and chest pained from how much her encounters with him made her cry. “And reports are sufficient,” she added as an afterthought. But only because she had to say something to the query.

She practically fled the room. The fencing jerkin forgotten and covering her as she walked thru the halls with a look on her face that kept others from saying anything. She’d get the notice he’d been to medical with the shift reports. Till then, she could only hope she hadn’t added to the cut, making it deeper with her tongue, that he would merely choose to rip her top from his arm and let himself bleed to death just to teach her a lesson.

Ari
CO

Baumann watched her leave, biting his tongue to keep from screaming at her. As the door closed he whipped around and looked at the mess of blood on the deck, the battered fencing bot, and the sabres laying loose on the floor. Shaking his head, he just cursed loudly and stormed out, locking the room behind him.

Baumann, Intel

She was halfway down the hall, replaying the moment in her head. Why were they always at odds? It had to be more than just him being ‘out of practice’. . .

She stopped dead in her tracks and frowned? “Out of practice… not out of shape....” she muttered to herself. She bit her lip a moment and turned around to stare down the hall. She was around the corner and half the ship away, but she looked as if she could look thru the bulkheads and into the room he was in.

She growled and took off at a full run, nearly tripping her own self up in the motion. As she took the final turn she managed to calm herself down enough to walk. As she opened the door, she was holding her breath, half expecting to see Baumann still in the room. But as she peered in, a worse sight met her eyes. He had left in such a hurry that his bloody sabre, the dummy and the other gear was not only on, but still there. She knew from his time as CoS that this would NEVER happen unless he was seriously hurt more than she thought…

…or seriously more mad at her than she realized.

She walked over to the robot first. Seeing it on setting 3, she then looked at the remaining settings. He had said he wasn’t lethal till 4. She expected it to go to 5, perhaps 6. Though she couldn’t even imagine what would be worse than a basic lethal setting. That it went up further, to 6, frightened her to her core. And the fact there was still a green light on level 3 meant he had allowed himself to get hurt.

She sat back hard on her bottom from where she had been half squatting to see the settings. “Oh, Baumann… what have we become?” She bit back a tear and turned to the gear. Unfastening the borrowed jerkin, she used the edge of the bloody sabre to start a cut on her tshirt and tore off a huge swatch all the way around her midsection. She then used it to wipe the blood off the blade the best she could. Moving to the discarded one, she did the same to the small bit it had acquired in the strike. When finished, she laid them side by side on the bag and turned off the robot before leaving.

Whatever he hated about her that had driven him to this, she didn’t want him to regret not taking care of his gear. It was the warped thinking of Ari’s hurt self, but she had to do it anyway. She departed and locked the door, heading to her room.

Ari
CO

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