Sigma Squad

“Security to Sickbay,” sounded over the com. Ensign Savage dropped the dumbbell he had been curling and followed the squad to the turbolift. Once they arrived at Sickbay Lieutenant Ramirez took point. She was a fierce Latina and liked to use her rank to pull stuff like that, even if it wasn’t good tactics. This time it cost her a phaser burn. 


As the door slid open the beam came right through the open hatch and caught her in the chest and down she went, all 1.6 meters of her. Savage surged through before the enemy could switch targets and ducked behind a console. It was yet another scrawny humanoid alien with some fucked up shit on his face. Being a Starfleet officer, Savage kept the disgust off his face. 


The alien had taken a hostage, one of those smartypants bridge lieutenants, the one with the blonde hair and daddy issues. Once the alien saw Savage was behind cover it shoved the hostage into a bulkhead and started strafing sideways while laying down covering fire at the console. Savage reached up and took hold of a hefty looking piece of medical equipment left conveniently close to the edge of his console. It looked like a desk lamp with a viewport to place your eyes against. After a few sharp yanks he managed to get it loose and then chucked it at the unsuspecting xeno. The alien managed to shield its face at the last minute, but the impact of the missile knocked the phaser free of its grip. Beginning to panic now, the creature looked quickly between the fallen phaser and the sickbay door and decided to make a run for the latter, cradling its dangling forelimb. This choice took it too close to Savage, however, who caught it by the neck and lifted it into the air. The creature still didn’t seem to grasp who had control of the situation and continued to struggle uselessly so Savage slammed him onto the console, neutralizing the threat. From there it was only a few yards to chuck it into a bio bed and activate the containment field.


“Computer, activate Emergency Medical Hologram,” Savage said. 


The EMH materialized and said the usual intro, “please state the nature of the medical emergency.” 


Savage gestured to the downed Lieutenants and alien in turn and said, “shot, bashed, detained.” 


“Holy shit,” the EMH said under his breath, surveying the situation. He then turned to Savage, “are you injured?” he asked.


“I’m fine,” Savage replied, walking out the door. They were supposed to report and debrief after a security incident but his squad was off rotation in 30 minutes and after that calorie expenditure, he needed some protein soon or he was going to get hangry.


Arriving in the mess hall Savage strode up to that sniveling little alien that spent his days ruining food there and stared down at him over the counter. “Give me three this time,” Savage told the yellow creature. 


“Certainly, sir.” the obsequious alien replied “You sure you don’t want me to cook them first? I could whip up my famous ome-” 


Savage cut him off with a hand larger than the thing’s face. “Shut up and give them to me how I told you.” 


The yellow alien’s mouth snapped shut immediately and he quickly completed the task and handed Savage a large cup of orangish thick liquid. He took it and drained the glass, swallow after swallow with a grimace locked on his face. The alien muttered to himself, “I don’t see how you can stand that. The foul taste aside, it’s just unsanitary.”


With a body mass nearing 225 kilograms it took massive amounts of very particular nutrient blends to keep Savage in peak physical condition. As a result there was no way he could maintain his gains on meager replicator and emergency rations alone, so he volunteered for every away mission involving food gathering. He had gotten highly proficient at acquiring slow and fast protein in alien biomes, tracking with the tricorder and then running them down on foot or with a phaser. His last take of meat had run out some time ago but there was still a large number of reptile eggs from the last foray. The things tasted like sulfur and bad salami but were packed full of amino acids, animal proteins, and good fats so he just chugged them down and went on with his day.


“Ensign Savage to my ready room” a familiar voice sounded over the com. 


Savage rolled his eyes surreptitiously. That little dwarf was probably going to chew him out for something. Ducking through the door to the Captain’s office he stood at attention and said, “Ensign Savage reporting, Captain.” 


She stared at him for a moment before she got started. “I just got a report from the Doctor, do you know what he said?” 


“That I saved the helmsman’s life and subdued a hostile?” 


“Hardly. He said you shotputted a medical microscope at our disoriented alien visitor, breaking his arm, and then whipped him around the medbay like a rag doll. Look, I know how strong you are, and nobody knows that value of that more than me, hell, you’ve saved my life several times. But…”


This was the part that Savage translated to ‘blah blah blah.’ More of the same about minimum necessary force, and not letting his temper out of control, and all that bullshit. And that’s what it was: bullshit. People thought he didn’t care, but he did. He cared about being big and strong so he could protect others, and when some limp-wristed xeno came on his ship, and started threatening his crewmates, they took their alien life into whatever they used for hands. As far as Savage was concerned they deserved what they got. The Captain wrapped up her speech and sent him to quarters. Fine with him, he needed sleep for proper recovery. She must feel like taking it easy on him so soon after his last demotion.


Once back at his quarters Savage put his uniform in the receptacle and squeezed into the sonic shower. His was modified to emit high-intensity pulses at a frequency specifically calibrated to express lactic acid from muscles, but most people would say it felt like getting lightly punched over every inch of your body in rapid-fire succession. After showering he strode across the bare compartment and lay on the hard bed.


He awoke the next morning just before the alarm and immediately rose to his feet. At the table he adjusted the hypo to deliver the precise dosage of compounds according to the schedule on his terminal. The injection was a mix of over 100 different substances, including synthesized hormones, advanced chemical performance enhancers, and epigenetic tagging resequencers. The program had been developed by a team of scientists to monitor and adjust the dosage for a specific individual based on their unique genome and physiology. The program, along with duratanium bone grafts, had allowed Savage to find the true maximum potential of the human form. He was stronger than a Klingon, faster than a Vulcan, and bigger than a Hirogen. After a replicated breakfast of unflavored caloric supplements, he hit the holodeck. His schedule kept his workout times below optimal but enough to maintain. After warming up with a 30 minute 2g run, he started the day’s workout. Beginning with a nice 500 kg deadlift before working up to 90% of his one rep maximum. He kept doing leg workouts, squats, presses, extensions, curls, for another 2 hours and then showered off before his first shift.

Security details spent half their shift completing training exercises and the other half on rapid standby in case of a need. It was the cushiest gig on the ship. Play all morning, sit around waiting to kick ass all afternoon, Savage loved it.


The scenario today was some tunnel crawl with limited intel. Security Chief knife-ears liked to keep them on their toes with surprises. They came to an opening in the tunnel that let out into some kind of engineering substation. As they spread out into the larger area an explosion erupted near the left-most wall, collapsing some of the structure and pinning Ramirez under a beam. Ensign Bo Takeer, the junior most member of the squad and a former Maquis, snatched up a length of metal strut and attempted to lever up the beam. Savage snatched the pole out of his hands and handed over the pulse rifle. The kid was a better shot with the thing anyway. Savage then used his other hand to lift the beam off the downed squadmate, classic Ramirez. Bo started firing the rifle as borg drones came ambling into the area from multiple entrances across the way. Bo was quick to remodulate between shots so he managed to down three drones before their shielding adapted. Savage closed the distance with the nearest one and tried punching it in the chest, no effect. Not surprising, really, someone must have tried that before. He then remembered the pole, and gave it a swing. The impact sent the drone flying backwards and bowling over three other drones, but the pole was now severely bent and unusable. Savage threw it at a drone that had almost gotten back to its feet, knocking it back down. By that time a drone from the other entrance had gotten close to Savage, and grabbed his elbow in an attempt to stabilize him enough for assimilation. Savage grabbed the drone’s wrist on his assimilator arm, and its neck in his other hand. With a grunt of effort he managed to tear the arm free and cast it aside. Resistance wasn’t futile yet.


“Computer, end program.” The security chief said over the com. The holograms disappeared leaving only the stark walls of the holodeck chamber. “We’ve all seen what happens once Ensign Savage starts wielding enemy bodies as weapons. Prepare for your watch rotation. Dismissed.”


As the rest of the squad filed out of the holodeck, Savage checked the time readout on the computer terminal. 30 minutes until watch. “Computer, initiate program ‘Savage Kilo1’ and set enemy count to 8.” Savage said as the holodeck disappeared and a desolate battlefield appeared before him. He picked up his pair of ancient Earth battleaxes and charged the pack of bloodthirsty Klingons advancing toward him. Everybody needs a little R&R now and again.


A few hours later and they were halfway through the standby rotation, Savage was doing air squats in the corner when a familiar statement came over the com, “security team to engineering.” And Savage smiled, time to go to work.


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