Sensei Survivor

Posted on Sun Apr 14th, 2019 @ 1:31am by Commander Rita Paris & Lieutenant Commander Mnhei'sahe Dox & Lieutenant JG Thav Th'ovohrot & Az'Prel

Mission: Detours
Location: USS Hera, Deck 11, Gymnasium 1
Timeline: 2396

The order was in- Monday morning at 08:00 hours, the entire Security team was to report to Gymnasium 1 for hand to hand training. Previously Lieutenant Dox had demonstrated some Romulan martial arts, and the Wil'I'Ams sisters had shown some Klingon martial arts maneuvers, although theirs were mostly about using or disarming an opponent to gain their weapon, then using it upon them. Which was of an admittedly limited application within Starfleet, where subdual was preferred if possible.

Thus this week for Monday morning hand to hand training, the Commander had brought in a slender Vulcan woman. Petty officer S'Rina recognized her immediately, as she turned to her sister, whispering excitedly. "That's her! The one Paris brought back from the Wormhole, from the mirror universe!"

Standing off to the other side of Commander Paris, was Lieutenant Mnhei'sahe Dox, who had been asked to participate in the training as well.

The scuttlebutt, as it tended to do, began to spread in murmurs amongst the Security officers. Paris allowed it to continue, to build a bit of intrigue and fascination. Turning to address the Vulcan refugee, the lost navigator spoke quietly.

"We prefer to employ non-lethal force- subdue and restrain when possible. Even our phasers have stun settings. We prefer not to maim or cripple if avoidable. I would like my people combat ready, but not black ops combat ready, if you understand my meaning, Miss Az'Prel?" Paris raised an inquisitive eyebrow to the sole survivor.

"Understood, Commander," replied the displaced Vulcan woman, who was dressed in one of the spare uniforms that had been hanging in her wardrobe. She then raised her voice so the entire room could hear her, yet maintained her logic and discipline. "However skilled I am in martial arts, I have never before trained a large group before, so this will be a learning experience for myself as well."

"As for the lesson, I will be teaching you all the principals of Kun-Laou, one of the many martial arts I picked up over the years. It is designed to use the momentum of both you and your enemy to incapacitate them and allow you to move forward." Taking a stance with feet apart, one palm facing the ceiling over her head and one out in front of her, she performed a series of sweeping and fluid motions, slapping the practice mat several times as she moved across it.

"In the resistance, we were taught two principles first and foremost. First, a closed fist will punish you as much as your enemy. It damages the tendons and cartilage and makes your greatest weapons unusable after a while. So unless you've trained long and hard and are used to punching duranium hull plating with no ill effects, don't do it." She held up her fists and threw a few Buddhist punches to illustrate the point.

Then she made her hands flat. "Keep your hands flat. Less destructive force, but you can quickly take your enemy out of the fight and move on without hurting yourself and you conserve your own strength." To illustrate the point, she once again did a quick, watery smooth dance that slapped the mat several times.

Resuming a somewhat passive stance, the displaced Vulcan woman surveyed the crowd. "Do I have a volunteer?"

The ship's Master At Arms looked around, and upon seeing no was volunteering he raised his hand. Always good to lead by example. He was trained in the kharakom and hleshvalath ways, but they kickboxing and wrestling would be no use at the moment. He knew this was going to hurt.

Az'Prel motioned for him to step forward and demonstrated a few of the motions she had done earlier, slower so he could see them. "Do you think you could repeat those motions on me? You will have to move as quickly as possible with the full force of both of our bodies."

"Yeah, I think so. I was trained in the kharakom and hleshvalath martial arts and a few of the moves move at a similar speed. " He said as he adopted the position he'd be shown.

"Then please do so." Without any hesitation, Az'Prel placed one hand on Thav's shoulder in a threatening manner, fully expecting to either end up face up on the mat or go flying a few feet before having to do a rolling landing.

The Andorian nodded and copied the moves the Vulcan had taught him. It was hard swapping out of what he'd been taught, but he managed to send the Vulcan to the floor.

Az'Prel was able to hit the matt with relative ease and roll back to her feet after a couple of seconds. "That was executed in an exemplary manner. If I had hit deck plating, I would now be unconscious. Thank you." She then bowed to Thav and turned back to the group. And said nothing.

After a moment, she walked over to Paris and Dox and spoke in a lowered voice. "I do not know how to train this many people at once."

Vulcan or not, Dox picked up on a bit of anxiety off of Az'Prel and interjected slightly, "Well, when I first did a demonstration, I had never done so in such a manner either. However, what seemed effective was showing a number of maneuvers like you just did, then allowing the officers to pair off to practice. Then I could walk around and critique people individually. I'd be more than willing to volunteer for you to showcase your techniques on as they're already used to me in this regard."

The slightly nervous Romulan pilot chuckled ever so slightly. "Besides, after my demonstration, they might enjoy watching you toss me around for a while. If that works for you, Commander?"

“Ah… I should have anticipated this,” Paris sighed. Internally her mind worked over the problem- a guerilla fighter who was unaccustomed to groups was, in hindsight, not the best trainer to introduce to the large group. Despite the low human ratio in the room, being surrounded by all of these Starfleet personnel was likely giving the woman what passed for Vulcan anxiety. Internally, Rita kicked herself for not anticipating that the woman who spent her life fighting for it had no classroom skills.

But no matter. Az'Prel was also adaptable, and the solution was simple.

“Okay people, pair off and practice the move,” Paris called out, to at least get the security team doing something while she struggled to come up with a better answer. Unfortunately, she kept coming up dry. "It works for me, Miss Dox, and thank you. Clearly, I should have thought this through considerably more thoroughly… live and learn. Miss Az'Prel, after the demonstrations, if you could, move amongst the personnel to offer corrections and guidance please?"

Smiling, as she remembered how stressed she was the first time she was asked to don't his by herself, Dox nodded. "Absolutely, Commander. We can build on what we've already done and I can help out as needed."

Turning to Az'Prel, Dox nodded respectfully, wanting to keep a professional demeanor with the uncertain refugee. "We can let them run through a few times, watch them for technique then break them up for further demonstrations. I would be happy to assist setting you up for each and helping manage the group if that's acceptable with you?"

"Thank you. Both of you." Az'Prel bowed to both of them in turn, her hands outspread. "And please do not allow my failing in this to color your assessment of me negatively. I simply need to learn new skills to integrate myself into your society."

“Not at all. For your first time in front of a class, you're doing fine- speak clearly, ensure everyone can see and engage the class,” the throwback officer replied, "Better than my first time. Are you all right? I realized after the fact that being surrounded by all of us might be uncomfortable for you, and I signed you up, but never asked if you'd taught a class. We're all learning, Miss Az'Prel. There is no shame in learning, as the wise man says."

Looking out at the floor, Dox tilted her head as she observed the group. "With just a cursory glance, it looks like they're picking it up quickly, Miss Az'Prel. If you are ready, we can call them to attention and move on as you see fit."

“Looking good, people. Okay, Lieutenant Dox and Miss Az’Prel are going to show you a few more moves, let’s watch and learn, folks.” Paris clapped her hands to draw attention and set up a beat, a primal element of communication.

As the Vulcan faced off with her Romulan sparring partner, she thought for a moment, then went through a flowing rolling move that seemed to pull Dox head over heels and do a 180 with her and swapped places in the process. Returning to her feet, she helped her sparring partner back up as well. "This move is useful against armed and unarmed opponents when you can get a grip on their elbow. It is also useful against those with riot shielding."

Az'Prel then motioned to Dox. "Now you."

Quickly, Dox repeated the maneuver fluidly and efficiently, flipping Az'Prel to the mat. Her own training making the transition fairly easy.

As she helped the weathered Vulcan soldier to her feet, she spoke to the room. "Okay, everyone. Now we're going to go through that slowly, step by step for you. Pay close attention to hand placement, where you plant your feet in regards to your center of gravity and the overall motion."

Then Dox moved slowly, planting her weight as Az'Prel had shown her, and setting up the maneuver one step at a time for everyone to see before stepping back and taking a light bow, deferring to Az'Prel.

The Vulcan woman bowed as well, her hands spread apart. "You are very skilled. You would be able to master Kun-Laou quickly."

Smiling slightly, Dox replied simply. "Thank you. I will work to live up to that estimation."

Then the two women squared off again, with Az'Prel showcasing an increasingly difficult series of moves on her Romulan sparing partner. And as before, Dox would repeat the move then show a slowed down, step by step process to the assemblage.

Moving amongst the crowd, Paris noticed pairs and triads of groups, all paying attention, some trying something they had just seen. It surprised her how attentive they all were, how quickly they were picking up on the training, emulating and incorporating the maneuvers. While she had drilled military discipline and etiquette into her security force, she still expected them to be sentient life, which in her head she still provincially referred to it as only human. But that was speciesist, so she had to change how she said it. But not how she thought it, because for her, it was still the human adventure.

The goddess Hera attracted Amazons. They were the guardians of her temples, and wherever she parked her rear, they came to serve. Three decks up across the starship, the goddess paused in her reading to look down and shrug slightly.

After a while, the demonstration shifted to allow the security officers to take to the mats and pair off to practice the techniques show, as Az'Prel and Dox walked among the students, correcting techniques and instructing where needed. But it was clear after a few minutes that the dimensionally displaced Vulcan was getting a more comfortable grip on teaching as Dox left her to the students and walked back over to where Rita was watching.

"She's exceptionally good, Commander. She was moving at probably half speed for most of the demonstration, and probably applying even less of her natural strength. But she seems to be getting into the rhythm in instructing them as well." Dox spoke to her XO while the pair watched.

“Good. It hadn’t dawned on me that she’s never instructed a group… I would have thought that might have come up when I suggested it to her, but that’s on me for not anticipating,” Paris replied, speaking quietly where only sensitive ears nearby could hear. “I’m tempted to let one of the more aggressive security officers have a go at her, because I know they're dying to try. But I think I should take advantage of the opportunity.”

Standing where she was, Paris asked, "Miss Az'Prel?"

The sensitive ears of the freedom fighter picked up the distinctive sound of her name being spoken, and made eye contact. Paris motioned with her eyes to the ring, with a questioning raise of her eyebrows.

The displaced Vulcan moved over to the indicated ring, suddenly on high alert. She didn't expect a sneak attack or betrayal, but it seemed she was perhaps to earn their trust and prove her skills to them in some fashion.

Stepping into the ring, Paris took a look around, and sure enough, all eyes were on this. Since taking command of Security, Commander Paris had not sparred with anyone. She was command, and apparently, they didn't have to train like the mere mortals. This theory was not uncommon in the fleet, and many of the Security personnel were fresh out of Security training at Starfleet Academy, so there was an assumption that this was how it worked. There was some scuttlebutt about it- but then, there tended to be a lot of rumors and gossip onboard the USS Hera, and a lot of them about their anachronistically attired executive officer.

Time for a little trust exercise.

"I took judo in the Academy... we all did, right?" There was a chuckle in the crowd, because judo was the least of most of their skills. Muttering under her breath where only the most sensitive of ears could hear, Rita added, "I know precious little more than that."

"I've got good legs," Paris added, to an enthusiastic 'Yeah ya do!' in the crowd, to which she nodded graciously. "I run darn near every day, so a lot of my strength is in my legs. I prefer to use my legs because I prefer keeping my foes at a distance, and using my stronger muscle groups. So. Miss Az'Prel. As an aficionado of the kick, what are some techniques that you might recommend?

The displaced Vulcan woman bowed before her next sparring partner before explaining her next sequence so everyone could hear her. "For that, I recommend an ancient tribal Denobulan fighting style that was once used ceremoniously. About half of the moves use the hands to pivot off of rather than the feet, but it maximizes the lower body strength with each strike. With it, I've been able to bash my way through sealed doors. For now, how about we start with the more basic takedowns as that would be the more logically useful approach for those assembled."

She then showed off a series of spinning kicks, several of which changed directions with the assistance of one or two hands on the mat. "These are difficult to show at slower speeds, Commander. Please use care and strike me as fast and hard as you are able."

The expression of the commander was consternation, but she'd been paying attention. While her kick lacked the precision or surety of Az'Prel's she still whipped out the kick. As it struck the Vulcan's block, she nodded, encouraging, and the miniskirted commander tried one of the more aggressive kicks she'd been shown, or at least a mediocre representation of it.

Az'Prel nodded, keeping her guard up so she could keep blocking. "Acceptably executed, especially for your first time. Aim higher and further back."

Following through, Paris listened and adjusted her style as murmurs went through the crowd. It was clear to her squad, the Commander wasn't much in hand to hand. But she was working on it, right here, right now. Pausing, Paris withdrew her leg and held it up, at the ready.

"Show me a combo?" Paris asked earnestly. "Something the team will appreciate?"

Az'Prel nodded and thought for a moment, bouncing from one foot to the other. She then flipped over onto her hands and delivered six quick rabbit kicks to Rita's mid to upper body in quick succession before delivering a quick upward spinning kick that broke through her defenses and barely missed the buxom blonde's face.

Bursting out laughing, Paris shook her head with a smile on her face. "And that officially counts as out of my league. All right people, break into groups, and if you are going to practice that spinning windmill dyke strike, watch for concussions? Safety, people. All right, aroo!"

"Aroo!" the room answered her, the enthusiasm of which surprised Paris a bit. Here's to military training...

Approaching Az'Prel, Paris offered a bow. "Thanks for that... I've not taken to the ring to teach them because they know more than me. I can teach them tactics and weaponry and discipline and honor, but this... is not my passion, and not my gift. So I appreciate you sharing it with the security force. They are the brave defenders in time of trouble for this crew, and they have a high standard to uphold. They're good people, and I appreciate you helping them grow."

Watching from the side, a smile was stretched across Mnhei'sahe's face. Over the past few weeks, she had been meeting with Rita in private to help her work on her fighting skills in the holodeck and she was abundantly aware of how difficult it was for her friend to step into that ring and show her lack of skill in front of the entire security team. But in that moment, she found her role as the learner to Paris' master somewhat reversed as she felt a swelling of happiness and even a little pride for Rita's accomplishment here.

The Vulcan woman bowed back, her hands spread out to her sides. "I live to serve. I honestly did not imagine there would be so many warriors... Security... Personnel aboard this vessel. It must be much larger than I estimated. I also did not expect them to be so well trained. This universe has seemed very... Plush... Compared to mine. I will have to readjust my expectations."

"There are, to be fair, kind of an unlimited amount of creature comforts. But we do have violence here, and there is trouble. We prefer to solve it with an open hand, discussion and compromise. The universe doesn't always give us a choice in the matter, however. And these officers are also trained to combat disasters- fires, search and rescue, evacuation. They are the good guys who make sure that our scientists and engineers and diplomats can work without fear. because Security is watching over them."

"Starfleet is idealistic, Miss Az'Prel. But we're not naive. When reason fails, sometimes force must prevail. We do not make that choice ourselves, but if it is thrust upon us, we do not shrink from it. Does that make sense?" the extradimensional explorer from long ago hoped she was getting through to her contemporary from beyond the mirror.

"It does," Az'Prel replied. "It is the exact opposite of what the Terran Empire's philosophy is so it is easy enough to understand. They would use overwhelming force, kill almost everything, then try to ask a few questions afterwards. The route of the diplomat is one that is uncommon, but not unheard of."

"I was also thinking..." the Vulcan woman continued. "With my skills of infiltration, if you ever have a covert operations mission, once I am more familiar with your ways, I may be useful to you as an infiltration operative. During my time as a slave, I was able to carry out several covert assignments including, but not limited to, data retrieval and assisted escapes."

"We may just have something in mind for you, Miss Az'Prel, now that you mention it," Paris replied with a knowing nod. "How's your Romulan...?"

The Vulcan woman straightened herself visibly, her hands still at her sides, unlike other Vulcans of this universe. "Currently poor... But if it is required, I will be fluent within three days."

"If you would be so kind, Miss Az'Prel, please do so." It would be an impressive feat for someone to gain a linguistic skill in only a few days, but the refugee from beyond space and time had survived in a universe determined to stamp out her existence. When she made the claim, Paris, as another survivor of extreme circumstances, was prone to believe her. "The Captain and I will brief you later today, but I think you're the woman for this job.

"I will be ready at your call, Commander. I live to serve." With a bow, the Vulcan woman spread her open hands out to her sides. When she straightened, she headed for the door without another word.

"Miss Az'Prel? One more thing?" Paris called after the Vulcan woman.

Az'Prel immediately paused and turned back, her full attention once more on the curvaceous Commander. "Yes, Commander?"

When she spoke, the lost navigator kept her voice down, where only sensitive ears could hear it. "The locals say it a bit differently, and it has a subtle yet distinctive difference. I'd prefer it if you did not 'live to serve', Miss Az'Prel. The locals say it as 'I come to serve'- perhaps you might consider trying it out. You are in service to no one- you are free. You choose to help, but you are not obligated to do so. A little reminder that you have come a very long way, and that where you were is not where you are. Something to consider, if you will?"

Through it all, Paris kept her tone soft and her eyes on the Vulcan woman's eyes, which had seen and survived so much, yet even having found herself in a relative paradise, would always bear a hint of suspicion, of trepidation in looking for the familiar world of violence and oppression she had known her entire life. Earning her trust would be a gradual thing, and it required consistency and patience. But Rita was willing to do her best- and this example was a small but important moment of distinction to her mind.

The Vulcan woman's eyes drifted towards the floor as she mumbled the new words to herself several times. "I should stop bowing as a servant would as well, then. I come to serve... And I hope to meet your expectations... But I am free to find my own way." With that, both of her eyebrows raised in realization of just how different things were in this universe on a very basic level.

Looking back up at Rita, she nodded politely. "Thank you. I will take this lesson to heart."

"I know you will, Miss Az'Prel," Paris offered with a light pat on the shoulder. "Infinite diversity in infinite combinations, eh?"

Az'Prel nodded sagely. "I believe the multiverse has proven that to both of us in due measure."