Ad Astra :: Star Trek Fanfiction Archive ^{Beam me up, Scotty.}

Chapter Text

The Star Beagle Adventures                                                
Episode 13: Close to the Edge Part II - Total Mass Retain
Scene 3: Reasons We Don’t Understand

There’s you, the time, the logic or the reasons we don’t understand…

13.3
Reasons We Don’t Understand

Warrant Officer Seprek Harrison had been allowed to design his own dojo at Star Fleet Academy. He was a master of both Suus Mahna and Krav Maga, the epitome of vulcan and human martial arts, each voraciously mining every other art form to improve itself. 50 years ago, Harrison had added four new degrees to the krav maga black belt by adding techniques specifically designed to allow a human to defeat a cardassian master of Anbo, a klingon master of Mok’bara, a romulan master of Kormerek… and even a vulcan master of Suss Mahna.

And Captain Rhonda Carter, with no training at all and the worst form and stance he had ever seen, could defeat any one of them. 

Harrison had become such a formidable and respected master that Star Fleet had recruited him and brought him in as a warrant officer to serve as a master trainer at Star Fleet Academy. He had trained two generations of trainers. He had travelled on the Odyssey in part to evaluate the dangers that the Gamma Quadrant might pose.

He was also there to study the legendary Rhonda Carter. Most people discounted the legends, but Harrison had seen some ship security recordings from the Cardassian war. What other people described as insane luck was, to his eye, clearly something more. At least one of the cardassian soldiers she had killed was clearly a master of Anbo, easily twice her size. His stance was perfect. His form flawless. 

And Carter had ripped out his throat with a shard of an EPS conduit she had scooped up from the debris in the corridor only a second before.

Harrison had watched this recording over and over. There was no way it had happened by luck. It was so fast he almost couldn’t see it. Flipping through frame by frame didn’t help. It had taken weeks of review before he spotted it. Not even a split second of distraction on the cardassian weapons-master’s part, but Carter had seen it and taken advantage of it. At mind-bending speed. It was all the opening she had needed.

When Carter had gone through basic training she had earned the nickname “Teacup Tiger” because of her combination of ferocity and small size. To Harrison’s mind, her fighting style more closely resembled that of a wolverine.

Having seen her fight, hand to hand, with a phaser, at the helm of a starship, Harrison had become increasingly convinced that Rhonda Carter could see her opponent’s moment of weakness before it occurred.

And after nearly six years serving with her, he still had no idea how she did it. It was as if she could see just a few seconds into the future and place herself just where she needed to be to take advantage of her opponent’s moment of weakness.

This was the first time Seprek Harrison had returned to this dojo since meeting Carter in person.

She had steadfastly refused to spar with him. She never sparred with anyone. And had never told him why.

And here she was, in his dojo. In a fighting ghee, a costume that she would never don. She was not a trained fighter.

“Will you spar with me now?” the vulcan master asked.

“Never,” Carter replied. “Not with you. Not with anyone.”

“Why?” 

“I will not train myself to pull my punches. You have seen what I do. I will not do that to you.”

“You think you could defeat me?”

“No. Only kill you.”

13.3