PNPC GySgt Kirtan Martz - Pump It (Louder)!

[Max]

(( Marine Barracks, Deck 3, USS Khitomer ))

Finally, perfection.

Kirtan had managed to get a series of crates set up in such a way that he could use them as a bench.  Couldn't do all his workouts standing, and the gym still was being neglected.  Something about flossing?  Who knows.

Kids these days.

A mere single set of presses later, and his communicator was buzzing at his flexing chest.  Kirtan slid his oversize noise-cancelling headphones down to his neck, then beat his chest.  The thumping bm-ts-bm-ts-bm-ts-bm-ts could still be heard.  And felt.  Even through his cobra-like neck muscles.

Zerva: =/\= Lieutenant Zerva to Gunnery Sargent Martz. I could use your assistance on Deck Nine in Transporter Room two. =/\=

Martz: =/\= 'Sup, Ten-Ten?  Watchya need? =/\=

Some people addressed Lieutenants as L-T.  Kirtan, like many Edo (or at least the gym-going variety), favored saying "Ten-Ten."  Because Lieutenants were inherently total tens.

Zerva: =/\= The Filaments that have originated from Nebula have become increasingly more dangerous. I could use your expertise in what could be a dangerous task. One I think you’ll appreciate. =/\=

Lots of words Kirtan didn't understand.  One he did: dangerous.  Awesome.

Martz: =/\= You got it boss.  Send the deets up, I'll be down in a minute. =/\=

Zerva: =/\= Understood. Zerva, out. =/\=

He put his headphones back on, wiped the sweat from his face, put the towel back around his neck and crossed over to the briefing console to read up on just what the heck was happening.  More words he didn't understand.  Lots of skimming.  There was something he was supposed to appreciate in all of this jumble of scientific yadda-yadda...

He finally reached something he did understand.  His eyes narrowed.  He did appreciate it.

Not often he got to crack open the special weapons procurement files for the equipment replicators.

(( Timeskip - Deck 9, Transporter Room Two, USS Khitomer ))

A security officer helped with the level-ten forcefield.  Looks were exchanged.

Kirtan waddled into the transporter room, performing a farmer's carry with a pair of enormous two-hundred-pound black speakers - one in each hand.  His neck, shoulders, forearms and legs all rippled pleasantly from the effort.

Martz: Where you want 'em, Ten-Ten?

Zerva: ::Looking up from his work:: Welcome to transporter room two. Shall we get to..

The spotted Lieutenant looked up and stopped talking.  Kirtan failed to see any problem.

Martz: 'Sup, boss?

Zerva: Martz? What is that you’re carrying? And is it necessary for the task at hand?

Kirtan wasn't training to failure today, and there was going to be a second set carrying the things back up and de-materializing them safely.

Martz: The brief said something about sonic pacification, sir.  :: Beat ::  These are L-20 Wave-Agitators.  Perfect for warfare and extremely large raves.  Awesome, right? :: Beat ::  The Enemy Cannot Hear You Coming if the Enemy Cannot Hear Anything Other Than Your Sick Bass, Sir.  :: Beat :: Sun Tzu, Sir.

It was not Sun Tzu.

Zerva: Response

Half ignoring the response, Kirtan set them down, and aimed them at the transporter pad where there appeared to be an infestation of... whatever it was.  Definitely misunderstood something somewhere along the way, but one didn't summon a weapon specialist if you didn't want special weapons.  He unpacked the heavy-duty cables from the back compartment of each, and hooked the first one into the EPS conduits.

Martz: Nah, no worries, boss, I got a second pair of noise-cancelling headphones for you, too.

Zerva: Response

Why would anyone attempt sonic warfare with anything less?  Whatever.  With the second enormous speaker set up and hooked in, it was simply a matter of wirelessly transmitting the audio to them.  Kirtan took the remote control from a housing inside the left speaker and passed it to the Lieutenant.

Martz: Just hook it up to your PADD, and select the L-20 for speaker output... :: Beat. :: Oh!  And your headphones...  Healthy ears are happy ears.

He passed Zerva the same pair he used for himself.  Only, without Kirtan's boundless muscle mass, they looked vaguely more like black ear-muffs on the Trill.

Zerva: Response

Kirtan watched dubiously as the "music" began to play.  On low.  He slumped visibly.

And waited.

He almost felt bad for the L-20s.  Seemed a crime to set the output so low or to play anything less than the most head-banging deep-bass drum-and-trapstep.

No wonder nothing seemed to be happening.  (Kirtan was not a man much for just standing there.)

Martz: :: Leaning over to Zerva. :: Try picking the XxerroxX Brothers from the music database... :: Finger pointing dangerously close to the volume control. :: And turn it up...

Yes, the XxerroxX Brothers.  His favorite Edo EDM group was just as unaware as Kirtan as to the absurdity of their name, and equally enamored with sheer number of X's that made them seem extra edgy and hard-core.  That said, there really was no better music for getting a pump in the gym.

Zerva: Response

Tag / TBC...

---------- ((⧫⧽⧽⧽ ----------

Gunnery Sergeant Kirtan Martz

SFMC Weapons Specialist

USS Khitomer - NCC-62400

as written by

Lieutenant Amelia Magnolia Semara

Intelligence Officer

USS Khitomer - NCC-62400

A239710MA0