Half Equipped
Doc steered Viktoria (Verna) past the curtain and onto the cold table. They were alone and could talk freely. He peeled the clothes off her torso with a small bit of force. She grunted and grabbed the table.
"It's your own fault for putting them back on. Stupid, is what it was and stupid for pissing off the commissar. " He snapped. Viktoria found herself almost as uncomfortable from his anger as she was from her back.
He pulled the rest of her clothes off and snapped on a pair of gloves. "Stupid. Just what we need, more open wounds for infections. I tell you, we lose more men to infection than the enemy." He barked, any movement he made that was not touching her was sharp and rough.
"This is going to take forever to patch up!" he continued. "Throne knows this is not the worst you have had, but I'm not even as half equipped as I usually am. I'm getting soft with all of your fancy equipment, Viktoria."
"When I found you in the slums you didn't have it. I keep…." She paused. "I pay you for your talent not your ability to use fancy equipment."
"Yeah… well… it sure makes things easier." He grunted. "For example, at home, I would just slap some synth-skin on here and be done with it. Even though you'd turn it down, you masochist, I'd have pain medication for you too."
His fingers moved over her back as he cleaned every open cut carefully. "Stupid, stupid, stupid." He kept repeating. "You'd better let me clean these every day. If you get a serious infection here, we'd have to call off the operation to get you treated properly."
"I took that beating for the operation, having you clean this is a pretty small price now." She grimaced.
"How are you feeling?" he asked after a long moment.
"Not too bad. Pain like this reminds me that I'm alive." She said with a smirk.
Doc shook his head. "You're so stubborn, at the end it looked like you were enjoying it. Did you smile?"
"No, I was just letting it whip away forty years of sin."
"Just watching that might have whipped away forty years off of my life."
Viktoria glanced over her shoulder at him, puzzled. His face as stony as ever.
"You might be almost dead to pain, but watching you being torn open like that… they might as well have been flogging me instead."
"Samuel…." Viktoria said, taking his wrist and turning around.
He pulled out of her touch and turned her back around. "Stay still, I have to hand stitch some of these. We've got a job here, if this is the worst thing I've got to see you go through then we should be alright."
"Sorry, Doc, but we're only just getting started. We've still got to fight corrupt members of the inquisition. They are highly trained just like you and I to inflict some serious damage. I'm often lucky, but don't bet this is the worst knick I'll get."
"I've watched you get punctured, gutted and sliced for ten years now. It's nothing I can't handle."
"Yes, but…" Viktoria took a pregnant pause. "..how long have you cared like this?"
Weston might have replied, but the distinct click of heels on the floor interrupted him. Seconds later the commissar flung back the curtain with a smug smirk. "So this is where you limped off to."
"More like I was drug here by the medic." She grunted.
"Yes, he was quite worried through the whole ordeal." The commissar drawled.
Viktoria felt the hand that was steadying the stitching, tighten on her shoulder. She started to turn to look at the commissar but was held very firmly in place by Doc's hand. "Don't move." He ordered.
"There is really no point to it, Doctor." The commissar said with a smirk. "With an attitude like hers she won't last long. Next time my discipline will be more permanent too, seeing as this one didn't even get a single yell out of her."
Doc didn't answer, his grip only tightened further and he leaned in to focus harder on his stitching.
"You know, sergeant, I can't help but feel that you actually wanted to spar me." He said slowly.
"You would have been the best opponent on the ship." Verna agreed.
"Do you honestly think you could have beaten me?" he asked.
"I do. But I now know that it is out of the question." She grimaced again as Doc's needle dug a little deeper.
The commissar chuckled and scratched his short beard. "If you are still so confidant in your abilities, then how about we have at it. Right now, just you and me."
"I would not advise this, Sergeant." Doc said sharply. "There are several reasons why that it is a bad idea that can be added to the fact that I am not yet done stitching you up."
"How about this, I'll even promise not to punish you for hitting a commanding officer. Other than the beating you'll get in the fight." The commissar added. "Or have you had enough?"
"Weston, if you please will close up this stitch, the commissar has a job for me." Verna said, her blood obviously hot.
"Verna…" Doc intoned warningly.
"We can finish after the commissar and I are done." Verna said evenly. "This won't take long."
The commissar chuckled. "No, it won't. You'll get her back shortly."
Weston took his time closing off the last stitch. The second he pulled away Verna re-hooked her bra and threw on her shirt on. Her boots hit the floor with a determined thud and she strutted over to the commissar who lead her into the center of the cargo bay.
"So how are we doing this… sir? Points? First blood? Ring out, though, we are lacking a ring." Verna asked, stretching her arms and testing how far her stitches would let her move. She ached all over and her body just didn't seem as responsive as normal.
"It will be over when I say it is over." He said, starting to unhook his coat. "Quite frankly, you are one of those types that need to be beaten into submission. I could have you shot just for the way you've been looking at me. Like a good stallion I will just have to break you the old fashioned way. You could be a great solider, Verna Ray, but your arrogance and loathe for authority is going to get you killed. You'll be one of the best if you can just learn your place."
Throwing the coat aside he tossed his hat along with it. "So let's get started, solider."
Verna stalked around the commissar, taking a new measure of him. He was willing to risk one hell of a beating just to straighten out one of his men. Was it because he truly cared about his men and their moral or did he see a valuable asset and was just not wanting to shoot it. Perhaps he just got off on this sort of thing.
"What are you waiting for, chaplain? I see the fury of the emperor in your cold eyes and that is what I want to redirect. I'm not sure if you see me as a threat or what, but I intend to assure that I am not your enemy, but merely your superior." The commissar said, coaxing her towards him.
Her eyes narrowed, continuing to assess him. Doc was right, (and watching) she would have to be smart about this. He was actually bigger than her in every way except sheer determination. Rolling up onto the balls of her feet, the chaplain charged for her foe.
When she reached him, they apparently had the same idea, which was to throw the other on the floor. This ended up in the brief grapple that they both dropped for a series of exchanged punches. The commissar was extremely well trained, and blocked almost every hit. The ones that got through were insignificant.
He was swift and strong, Verna found herself pushing to keep up. Normally it would have been easier, but she had fought a lot earlier and years of desk work had made her soft. The fight quickly escalated when the commissar brought his feet into play. Every block of his kicks sent her stepping back.
Getting frustrated, Verna slipped into closer range with him, making effective kicks out of the question. She raised her fist to introduce it to his face when she felt her legs wrenched out from under her. Suddenly she was slammed on her back hard enough to actually make her howl in pain.
As he bent down to do Emperor-knows-what, her boot met his face sharply. He stumbled back, grabbing his face and swearing. Verna got to her feet but her legs were shaking and her back was on fire.
++++ At that point in time, I had no idea if I was going to win or not. I felt like lead and was sure that I had knocked a stitch loose. I was angry at being thrown on my back, but angrier that he had interrupted Samuel. I was an emotional as well as a physical wreck. I didn't know if I could win, but I was going to make damn sure the commissar had more than one mark to remember me by. There was one thing that I knew without a doubt: Samuel was going to give me hell for this.++++
Both panting and in pain, the two circled each other like wild cats.
"You're still standing." He commented, dropping his hand to revel a bloody nose and swollen eye. "Not had enough yet, huh?"
Verna wiped her mouth and shook her head.
"No, of course not." He said and this time took the charge. Verna braced to block, but he took her like a bull. He slammed her into a crate, her head bounced off the side with a snarl. He fought to throw her on the ground but she took him with her.
As dazed as she was, she heard his head hit the floor with a solid thump. Using him as an anchor, she heaved herself up just enough to land another blow to his face.
For a moment he didn't move. She was on top of him with her fist pulled back for another blow and waiting for a sign that he hadn't blacked out.
Quick as a wink, he grabbed her and got control of the grapple and reserved their positions. He pinned her with his knee in her gut and a hand on her shoulder.
Verna smirked. "Not had enough yet?"
His hand was suddenly on her throat and cutting off her wind pipe. "How about you?"
Grabbing his hands, she clawed and pushed to get free, but was not encouraging him to loosen his grip. "How about now?"
The spots that had been in front of her eyes since hitting her head (twice) started to thicken, but the more she pushed him off, the more weight he put on her throat. Trying to nod or say yes, she only managed to do was thrash.
Finally she relaxed, looking him dead in the eyes as the darkness took her.
That's all for tonight! Reviews are welcome! Thanks for reading!
Next time! Doc and Vik have a different kind of heart to heart and strange things start happening. Cheap warp drives indeed.