10-15-2025, 07:45 PM
As soon as he saw the warrior crawling for his weapon, Peter didn't hesitate. He raised the phaser and fired at the Jem'Hadar again to put him down.
"Oh no you effing don't!" he snarled as he fired, then looked around.
"Denobulan! Cover that angle!", he bellowed, gesturing to where the other officer had fallen. Ordering someone to put themselves expressly in harm's way came with the territory of being an officer, especially a command-level officer. But that didn't mean he had to like it.
And he knew he wasn't done making "Fudge this awful decision"-decisions. As he saw the fallen officer, he realized that she had fallen in a slightly advantageous position, not flat on the ground, but leaning against the wall. She was obviously beyond saving. A wound like that was not survivable. At least not in the current situation. If they'd been able to beam her directly to sickbay, then maybe....but what was that old saying again? Ifs and buts, something-something nuts?
"Try to use cover!", he barked and gestured for the people closest to her to move into a position where they could use her body as extensions of their cover. If her corpse could take some of the fire, that one factor would make her sacrifice even more meaningful. They could mourn once they had won.
Adrenaline pumped through his body, in a way which years of training and experience meant would result in sharpening his mind rather than dulling it or making him simply frantic.
He felt as much on top of this as he could under the circumstances, trying to kick the can of "What the fudge is going on here, and why are there Jem'Hadar and how many are there?" down the corridor, so to speak. Those were no doubt important questions, but not in the face of survival or not, which is what this fight was all about.
"Oh no you effing don't!" he snarled as he fired, then looked around.
"Denobulan! Cover that angle!", he bellowed, gesturing to where the other officer had fallen. Ordering someone to put themselves expressly in harm's way came with the territory of being an officer, especially a command-level officer. But that didn't mean he had to like it.
And he knew he wasn't done making "Fudge this awful decision"-decisions. As he saw the fallen officer, he realized that she had fallen in a slightly advantageous position, not flat on the ground, but leaning against the wall. She was obviously beyond saving. A wound like that was not survivable. At least not in the current situation. If they'd been able to beam her directly to sickbay, then maybe....but what was that old saying again? Ifs and buts, something-something nuts?
"Try to use cover!", he barked and gestured for the people closest to her to move into a position where they could use her body as extensions of their cover. If her corpse could take some of the fire, that one factor would make her sacrifice even more meaningful. They could mourn once they had won.
Adrenaline pumped through his body, in a way which years of training and experience meant would result in sharpening his mind rather than dulling it or making him simply frantic.
He felt as much on top of this as he could under the circumstances, trying to kick the can of "What the fudge is going on here, and why are there Jem'Hadar and how many are there?" down the corridor, so to speak. Those were no doubt important questions, but not in the face of survival or not, which is what this fight was all about.