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Trash Out (Backpost)

Posted on Wed Feb 10th, 2010 @ 8:26pm by

Mission: Removing The Blindfold. Season 1 Episode 5
Location: USS Macarthur

There were bruises building upon her feet, the binding of the gloves too tight numbing her fingers, but Mason did not stop pounding the enforced bag, her rhythm undisturbed. In additional to the steady flow of limb action came the occasional jerk of her face shaking the beads of perspiration from her brow and the fluid movement of the crucifix pendant sliding across her collar bones.

Scattered across the floor of the holodeck created gym where the rest of her uniform, crumpled having been ripped off in anger. Somewhere she had viscously kicked off her shoes and tossed the comm badge not really caring any longer.

Instead the constant flow of punches and sharp kicks took sway over Kristina Mason's body, drumming with solid slaps against the canvas punch bag as she worked out her frustration. So far the weighty bag had taken the face of several persons as she drove home her fist. The irritating smile of Thomas Jenkins, pointed, ridged face of Haqatj were but a few. Among others she was now working upon the round, bubbly face of Alyssa Crawford imaging pulverising those cheeks as she had attempted to do before.

Her mind was working too. How could Beverly allow this to happen? The two of them had come so far some young junior grades coming over to blows over misunderstanding the friendly kiss of a lover, survived through devastation, the deaths of superiors and equals alike. Friends, foes they were all the same, swirling around her mind all dead and buried.

Still occupying the rear position of her mind memories of the fateful rescue mission upon Latanna rush back. The horrors, thundered of creatures pounding across the damp ground roaring loud enough to shake the heavens. At occasions she would wake from sleep with the frightful, distorted, insane expression upon Henry Tennyson as he crushed her throat.

Her beating continued anew sweating out her frustration until she was spent.

Then, with a final draining punch she denting the bag with all her remaining strength watching it swing back and forth for a moment before wrapping her arms around it allow her weight to be supporting while she regained her breath feeling her muscles quivering.

Through her respite she heared the doors to the holosuite scrape open followed by several steady footfalls as a long figure paced inside. Returning to her feet Mason turned to the approaching blue skinned face of Crewmen Thalal zh'Simal bringing along with her normal twitching antennae and bitter reality.

"Computer, end program." She said flatly weaving toward Mason. The fitness equipment faded into nothingness leaving behind the scattered uniform stripped off in anger by Krissy, the stench of sweat to her delicate nose and the thick atmosphere of rage.

zh'Sima knew she was acting in the right and believed deep down beneath the anger Mason knew that too, still she felt as if she was baiting a lion. "Lieutenant, sir." She started awkwardly. "By orders of Captain Crawford you are to be confined to quarters until released by Commander Lorran."

Mason's left eye twitched irritably. Humiliation wasn't enough for Crawford clearly. "Fine," she snapped unravelling the bniding upon her hands now the gloves were removed with the ending of the program. "Next she'll have me kissing her feet, but I'm not her bloody lap dog."

Wisely zh'Sima remained quite watching Mason gather her belongs allowing her to rampage following at a distance as they moved through the Macarthur.


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