Subject: GRAIL: "Last Look Back" - Teaching young dogs new tricks
--Holodeck 2--
Kirby looked at the thirteen faces before him. He was clad in the
same thing they were, a tank top and workout shorts, all decorated with
one word. MARINES.
"Congratulations, Ladies!," shouted Kirby. "You have managed to
survive a firefight! Now, since you are all Marines, we know that you are
the best god-damned shots in the universe! But, what we are here today to
do is to see how you can fight! I am going to give each of you one
opportunity to bust this old man's chops!" Kirby repressed a grin at the
happy reactions from his Marines, and maintained his drill face. "And, if
this were not sweet enough of a reason to attack me, I will personally
give each man who bests me one half-pint of my personal store of tequila.
Now, later this week, I will be in a poker game with some Starfleet
ladies, and I had planned to take this tequila with me. Now, if each of
you can put me down on the mat, I won't have anything to take with me! So
c'mon, you green Marines. Make your Chief look like a fool!"
Kirby strode over to where his PADD was. "Demott! Front and
center!"
The young man jumped up and moved to stand in the center of the
mat. Kirby walked up to him. "Begin," he said.
Demott fell into a fighting stance and slowly circled the Chief,
who just stood there. Demott lunged at him, and Kirby sidestepped,
grabbed his leading arm, and flipped the young man over onto his back.
Kirby applied a wristlock to the arm he held, and looked at Demott's face,
twisted in pain. "C'mon, boy, FIGHT!" taunted the Chief. As he said
this, Demott's free hand came about and smacked Kirby right below his left
eye. Kirby let go, and rolled to the side. Demott stood and as soon as
he was on his feet, Kirby attacked with a right-left-right combo that
floored the young Marine.
"Ooooooo," came the low groans from the others.
Kirby walked over and knelt beside the unconscious Marine. Blood
trickled slowly out of a cut on his lower lip. Kirby smacked his cheeks,
and he woke up in a few seconds. Kirby helped Demott to his feet, then
motioned for him to sit down.
Kirby faced the seated Marines. "I hope that you were paying
attention. Demott made a good effort, but his heart wasn't in it because
he likes me."
An appreciative chuckle drifted around as Kirby continued. "Now,
anyone lunges at you, step the hell out of the way. Grab a part of them,
and flip them. As they hit the ground, put a joint lock on 'em. If we
were in a combat situation, Demott would have been dead after I flipped
him. Always remember the vital areas, Marines. The eyes, the throat,
under the arms, the groin. If your enemy is down, you make him stay down
for good, whether you have to stomp on his head or try and break his back,
because rest assured; that bastard would do the same to you."
Kirby looked around at the young faces. "Now. Who's next?"
--2 and a half hours later, Sickbay--
Kirby sat on the biobed and looked at the four men remaining, who
were sitting on the biobeds around him. Medical Technicians and Nurses
skittered about here and there, ministering to the miniscule fractures,
cuts, and bruises that the Marine workout had left on its participants.
Ramius looked at the balding Marine before him. "Can't say I
approve of this activity, Chief Kirby."
Kirby stared right back. "Can't say that I really care, Doctor."
William smiled as he put on his glasses to read the output of the
tricorder he held. "I've known a few Marines in my time, Chief. I know
that you fight, work, and play hard. Harder than many, in fact."
"That's right," said Kirby.
"Well, Chief, I would appreciate it greatly if you didn't make a
habit of beating the hell out of your men on my shift."
Kirby snorted once in laughter. "Request noted, Doctor."
William kept his eyes on the tricorder. "Any pain anywhere,
Chief?"
"Nope."
"Don't give me the 'Marines feel no pain' BS, Chief. I'm too old
for it."
Kirby looked the doctor up and down. "Yeah, I guess you are."
"Now, any pain?"
"Nothing a shot won't fix, Doctor."
"Well, according to this record, started today by my staff, your
men combined for a total of four mild concussions, six sprains, three
strains, a score of minor lacerations, twice that in bruises, and one
broken finger."
"Really?" questioned Kirby. "Who broke a finger?"
Ramius looked at him with a serious, objective glare. "You did."
"I don't believe it," retorted Kirby.
"Fine. You go get a Medical degree, and then you can examine
yourself. How about that, Chief?"
Kirby held up his hands in a defensive gesture. "Okay, okay,
sorry Doctor, I'll behave."
"Good," replied Ramius as he motioned to one of his techs who was
carrying a device about the size of a cracker box. "Stick your right hand
in this, and sit here for twenty minutes, Chief, then you'll be as good as
new," said William, smiling at the old man.
"Sure. Thanks, Doc," muttered the Chief as the tech set the box
on the biobed. Kirby spun around and laid down on the biobed, arranging
the bone knitter on his abdomen. He stuck his right hand in, and the tech
pressed a few buttons, then moved off, leaving Kirby lying there, waiting.
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A post featuring Chief Jeb Kirby, and Dr. William Ramius, my two
characters.
-Aaron