~One of the more inspiring traits of humanity is our ability to finally shed toxins like a blanket when it’s time to band together. Fear can keep a species alive fairly well, but cooperation will always go much further. Fear leaves survival to the fittest or wealthiest -though, even still, the fittest when wealth becomes worthless-. It is a perfect mechanism for animals and oppressive societies alike. The problem is fear is always conquered by compromise.
I have seen many things. This journal will describe but a fraction. But, even of this fraction, only moments like watching true cooperation blossom into a greater good do I regret being unable to truly capture in words. The most beautiful painting will never be more beautiful than the most beautiful view.
But, when humanity faces adversity, the lies and corruption dissolve, and we get it done. It always reminds me that I don’t have to do it all.~
Two weeks pass following the risky boarding mission to capture the enemy’s faster than light technology that allows them to travel so quickly across vast distances of space. It’s almost double the expected time before the next encounter, which only suggests some manner of good fortune is looking after the surviving remnant of humanity. But, the ears are listening for the telltale pulse preceding a grim arrival.
Between Lieutenant Kane’s brief interactions where his device translated, as well as the surprisingly large data cache Dr. Lopez was able to siphon during her digital search, the fleet has learned a lot about their relentless pursuers. For starters, they call themselves ‘Grodurns’, hailing from a gigantic world known as ‘Grodoora’. Their unique world is apparently larger than Jupiter, and it is precariously placed between two relatively small stars that orbit each other. How this planet stays in place AND supports life is unknown, but the Grodurns live in virtually constant sunlight. And, even though their world is larger than Earth by several times over, there is some evidence of population strain, either on resources or livable surface area.
From Dr. Lopez’s cache comes some of their terminology, which is leading to a rough translation program. Additionally, they’ve learned that Grodurns are experienced interstellar travelers, with many time-hardened operating procedures in place, which is how they so diligently located Earth.
The mystery that does still burn is how the Voyager rocket that hit their planet, supposedly initiating the conflict inadvertently, reached a world several solar systems away when it only barely left the Sol solar system a few years ago. Some theories include wormholes, time-space being much different beyond the heliosphere, or even that the Grodurns are simply lying and using the Voyager rockets -which they may have found using the first ‘Burp’- as an excuse, not expecting the humans to make such a realization in time.
Whatever the case is, the Grodurns still want to enslave or kill the remnant of humanity. So, humanity will do their best to dodge the Grodurns as long as possible.
And, for starters, while the science teams are hard at work on the mobile drydock, the population has been evenly distributed across the four starliners. Quarters are tight, and there have been grumblings -on the Polonia specifically- about the new distribution. But, for now, everyone has a home while teams of military personnel either patrol or repurpose and/or jettison the lavish and unnecessary luxuries taking up room. MANY cars have been sent to the mobile drydock to feed its reprocessing plant, along with piles of jewelry, precious metals, entertainment systems, and other unnecessary items. Many extremely nice, EXTREMELY expensive hardwood furnishings have been jettisoned into the void of space, serving no purpose but to take up space. What few weren’t jettisoned were stored in the ‘memorial vault’, a small area set aside to act as sort of a time capsule of history.
And, one car will survive to see humanity’s journey; Mr. Right’s custom supercar. He pleaded and begged on his actual knees with Captain Long for her to let him keep it. She was adamant that it would NOT take up space for people or function.
So, now his supercar has the best view on the ship. It is chained to the outside of the Polonia on the top surface at the bow, leading the ship like a true naval figure head. Captain Long warned that if it comes down to needing rubber, leather, carbon fiber, and anything else, the car won’t be spared. To which, the eccentric scientist vowed he would find a suitable world for humanity had he no other reason.
The rest is fairly standard. The military has priority on almost everything from food to repair items and tools. The four captains of the starliners are in charge. Civilians have muster locations if they’re too far from their quarters in emergencies. What jobs can be done by civilians who are willing are being divided out, with compensation in the form of ‘service points’, an experimental ‘currency’ the fleet will be using. What it really equates to is favor, which grants similar privileges to military personnel.
What did cause a mild stir was the decision to unify the military into one force; the Navy. While the ease of adapting naval terminology to the fleet of spaceships was the most practical decision, many career marines were less pleased. Though many soldier ratings held by marines retain the title of ‘Marine’, their ranking system has been adapted to the Navy’s. Privates are spacemen -‘Spacemen’ and ‘Spacer’ being the replacements for ‘seamen’ and ‘sailor’, respectively-, Sergeants have become Petty Officers, and Master Sergeants have become ‘Chiefs’. Or… something like that.
What’s probably most disappointing is the fact that this was the chance to go full sci-fi and create a whole new system. Instead, they stuck with unimaginative and boring ‘Spacemen’.
Which is what Hancock is now; a ‘spaceman’. And, what’s worse is the name is almost literally true, since he’s been on lookout patrol on the ship’s hull for extra shifts. With his injuries, he can’t help move gear or run drills, so he watches every single possible direction for any signs of the Grodurns, should they have an ability to arrive without their ‘Burps’.
As he walks, he does admire the beauty of space when there’s nothing to obscure it. And, the sun itself still looks about the same size it’s always been. Its light is simply more intense without the atmosphere of Earth.
But, this job is ultimately boring. It COULD be worse, of course. He could be one of the sixteen stationary lookouts on the Polonia alone. These lookouts have little guard shacks to stand in without needing a suit, but they must stay there all shift and watch the same relatively boring void section of space. Hancock can at least look for the planets on his walks and try to guess which is which. He’s pretty sure he could see Earth, Mars, and Saturn for sure. But naturally, with the exception of Earth, the other two are tiny spots on the vast black canvas of space, and even Earth isn’t that big. Given they’ve been flying almost straight away for 3 weeks, Hancock would’ve expected Earth to be an indistinguishable speck.
Hancock is a little surprised when another spacer is waiting for him at his checkpoint where he recharges his air recycler. He still has 2 hours left on watch.
His counterpart says politely, “You Spaceman Hancock?”
Hancock states politely, “Spaceman Hancock.” He plugs his recycler in as the other spacer replies, “Message for you.”
Surprised, Hancock takes the note. It’s simplistic, except it bears the seal and signature of Captain Long herself. He reads it;
[“Spaceman Rex Hancock,
Relieve the watch properly and report to Russel Right on Mobile Drydock Providence, effective immediately.
Very Respectfully,
Captain Angelica Long,
Commanding Officer,
Starliner Polonia”]
Hancock flips the letter over, inspecting it thoroughly. The other spacer salutes, saying, “Spaceman Apprentice Schwarz. I have reviewed your logs and read your reports. I am ready to relieve you.”
Hancock salutes, “I’m ready to be relieved. Watch path is marked. No anomalies to report.”
“I understand all duties and responsibilities. I relieve you.”
“I am relieved.”
Hancock heads down into the ship and makes his way to the hangar. There, he boards a shuttle, which is waiting for him specifically. He doesn’t think too hard on it. Russel Right is a goofball, and he’s known now for trying to circumvent some of the restrictions on him via junior spacers. Hancock just needs to keep a level head and remember his duties.
The trip is short, but the Providence is always a sight to behold on approach. The mobile drydock is almost twice as large as a starliner, though it’s also much less bulky with its open portarms, or ‘piers’.
Spacers onboard direct him to Mr. Right’s laboratory. The main laboratory is surprisingly neat, even with all of the scientists working on various projects. Everything seems to be in an intended place. Testing is cautious and meticulous.
Mr. Right is watching as a pair of scientists test some sort of glowing device. The businessman notices Hancock right away, and he asks with a surprised tone, “Oh! What can I do for you, Spacer?”
Hancock replies civilly, but slightly confused, “Uh, Pri-uh-Spaceman Rex Hancock. I was directed to report to you, sir.”
Mr. Right scoffs, replying, “What? I didn’t…” He pauses, thinking. He finally replies, “Oh, right! I guess I did. Not me. Dr. Lopez requested you specifically. She’s through there, working on the jump drive. You’re experienced in quantum mechanics, spacer?” Mr. Right’s tone is genuine and warm, the way he speaks to everyone.
However, Hancock chuckles nervously, replying, “Not exactly, sir. I just promised I’d help her however I can.”
Mr. Right shrugs, replying, “Fair enough. I don’t deny my stars their requests. Good luck.”
Hancock nods politely. That last statement was slightly cynical. But, the young spacer knows that Lopez hardly speaks to anyone, including Mr. Right. He knocks on the door, knowing he won’t get a response. He then opens it gently and steps inside. For professional courtesy specifically around others, Hancock tries to always refer to her as ‘Dr. Lopez’. He says calmly, “Dr. Lopez? I’m reporting as requested.”
Her head pops up over the workbench. She swats her hand at him. Confused, Hancock gestures at himself. She shakes her head, pointing specifically at the door. She swats her hand again.
Hancock nods, finally understanding. He closes the door, and Lopez sighs relief. She sits back down on the floor and grunts wearily, “Lock it, please.
Again, Hancock is a little surprised, but he obeys. He locks the door and looks around. THIS is the lab he expected. Notes with barely comprehensible scribbles depicting even less-comprehensible scientific math are scattered everywhere. Three marker boards are overflowing with writing. Literally. She taped notes to the sides to continue formulas off of the board. One such extension note is seven sheets of paper taped in a lazily hanging streamer of knowledge. The young soldier can’t wrap his head around how she keeps track of so much information.
The scientist is just as disheveled as her lab. Her black hair is messy and tangled, and a single hair tie is holding little more than one lock of hair in an uneven, long abandoned attempt to keep her hair in order. Her eyes are bloodshot, and dark circles profoundly outline her eyes at the bottom. She has bandages on more of her fingers than not, as well as grease and carbon stains on her arms, hands, lab coat, and cheeks.
But the last detail is the most important, trumping all of the others. Tears are slowly trickling down her cheeks as she fidgets with a pen on a notepad, and a small stuffed kitten in the other. The notepad already has a bunch of notes, and she keeps tracing a circle around a strange symbol that doesn’t look English or even Greek. It reminds Hancock of a Kanji-fied triangle, sharing traits with Japanese or Chinese lettering, but more triangle-shaped.
Hancock looks at the machine on the floor nearby. It’s well above his head, but Lopez wanted him to come. All he can do is what he knows how to do.
Hancock eases to the floor next to her, mindful of his broken arm. Lopez sniffles, whimpering almost inaudibly, “I… I can’t… I can’t do it… Everyone’s counting on me, but… but I can’t do it…”
Hancock sighs and replies, “It wasn’t fair of everyone to put so much pressure on you. You’re running on empty right now; past fumes. When’s the last time you slept?”
“I-I’ve dozed off a few times. B-but they’ll catch us…!”
Hancock cuts her off, saying, “If our ONLY hope is going to be ONE person for the rest of time, we’re not going to last long. The Captains are navigating the ships far apart, in hopes it’ll fool the first of the next pulses to come. If we have to, we’re ready in boarding parties to take out their ships as they arrive. One-way, probably, but no one’s giving up. You just CAN’T carry this burden alone, because you’re not. Keep working. You WILL succeed and save humanity. And we marines will buy you all the time you need.”
Lopez chokes and starts crying. He gently wraps his good arm around her, gently pulling the young scientist to his collar. He urges, “Rest, Levi. You’ve got enough time. You NEED rest.”
She complains, “But, I don’t know what this symbol means! I can’t break through without it!”
He urges, “Shh… Worry about it after a break. Please.”
She cries a little longer, instinctively curling up against him. He says softly and gently, “You know, Sergeant Grey -or, Chief? Chief Grey?-. Anyways, he tells us that we can’t save the whole world. But, we CAN work to save just one. If enough of us try to save enough ‘just one’s’, everyone can still be saved.”
She doesn’t say anything, but slowly calms down a little. Hancock holds her gently until she falls asleep. She won’t sleep great, but it’s lavish compared to not sleeping. While she does, he studies the notes he can see, as well as the schematic she pulled from the Grodurn battleship. He can see the design in her much smaller prototype; the central unit and cables connecting the eight extremity little units. Hancock’s no astro-engineer, but he does feel like the design is familiar to him.
Lopez doesn’t sleep long, and she sits up, rubbing her eyes. She whimpers, “I… I suppose… I need to tell everyone…”
“I told you, you have time, Levi.”
“I was supposed to report progress to Captain Murdock yesterday.” Hancock knows Murdock to be the Captain of the Providence. He’s a laid back mining captain, more than a military officer. He was probably asked by Long to report, and when Lopez didn’t report to him, he probably defaulted to bureaucratic deflective ‘she’s working on it’-types of answers.
Hancock replies playfully, “We both know, Captain Long is who asked, and if you haven’t heard again, Murdock took care of it.”
Lopez smirks half-heartedly. She asks, “What am I supposed to do, though? I’ve been beating my head against this wall for two days. I’ve tried derivations to get around this symbol, but it is core to the operation, and I can’t figure out what it’s supposed to be. It’s the same value on both ships; one, one, nine, three, five, six, eight, one, two, point, six, six, six, three, four. I know that number to my soul now. It will haunt me forever.”
Hancock is quiet for a moment. He remarks, “You know, I just realized what this thing reminds me of. It’s kinda like a car stereo, right? Amp and speakers? See?”
Lopez looks up at him blankly. He realizes he may have just killed her soul a little with his dumb joke. But, that’s who he is.
However, a spark suddenly seems to jolt Lopez. Her face comes to life, and she murmurs, “Impedance?... No, but something LIKE impedance. It has nothing to do with the mass of the ship like I thought! THAT’S why it’s constant! The other variables! Oh my god!” A new life springs into Lopez, and she scrambles to her laptop on the counter. She types furiously, darting around her lab. She mumbles to herself, “That’s wrong, but I’ll fix it.” “Hmm… What a rookie error. Still…” “Yes… YES! Rex! You’re a genius!”
Hancock has climbed to his feet, and she dives into a hug with him. He grunts from his shoulder spiking pain. But, he chuckles, replying, “‘Genius’? You flatter me, Doc. I thought I was making a joke.”
She smiles sheepishly as she releases him, “I know… But you’re right! Sort of… I-It’s hard to explain… a-at least…” She pauses and blushes.
Hancock smirks, letting her have the light jab. He says warmly, “As long as you can make it work.”
Lopez sniffles happily, “I… I will!”
He smiles, asking, “So then; how can I help?”
********
Sergeant Grey. He was an E6 Staff Sergeant. His recent promotion would have made him Gunnery Sergeant. However, under the new Navy rule, he is now a Petty Officer First Class being promoted to Chief Petty Officer, or ‘Chief’ for short. For a Navy enlisted, it’s a fairly big deal. But for a Marine, he’s hung up on the sudden change. It feels so different; so trivial. He can certainly understand streamlining the chain of command. He just has spent fifteen years trolling Navy guys for being in the Navy to suddenly being a Navy guy himself.
Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.
But, that will NEVER stop him from doing his job. A title is a title, and it’s not worth a whole hell of a lot when less than one percent of humanity remains. Of course, he reminds Fredericks they’re all in ‘the One Percent’ now, if for no other reason, only to keep spirits up.
It’s certainly not true. Admirals and Generals have been found hiding in the populace, and they have since been stripped of their rank by the Captains for failing to step up when humanity needed leaders. Even the Captains are sharing quarters with everyone else. Captain Long and her sister, Jessica, are in the same once-luxury suite as Chief Grey, Tanya, and Little Bird. She claims she wants to ensure Grey shows no favoritism to Jessica, who is newly recruited -and mysteriously into Grey’s squad-, but he also suspects the Captain wants to show him favoritism in exchange for keeping her younger sister safe.
This, of course, is bolstered by Grey’s new ‘partner’, Chief Tachibana, the other most experienced alien-killing squad leader in the reformed Navy. Grey’s okay with it. Captain Long is an excellent role model for Little Bird, and he knows the Captain will always be professional. She’s just more likely to listen to her ‘prized’ away team leaders, who now reside in near literal arm’s reach, with Tachibana, her husband and son, and the Coulsons in the next suite. She laid down the rule that she’s a roommate and big sister only when they’re in the suite. Though, Chief Grey will certainly be cautious about this.
Among other changes are imprisonment and artillery. Imprisonment is using the ship’s brigs, but it’s expected that they’ll be past capacity -three each-, and the artillery has been pooled onto the Polonia, converting it to the first true space warship -for humanity, at least-. Even a tank was smuggled aboard the Andromeda, which has been moved to the hull of the Polonia. It can only fire with special shells, which Providence is producing as quickly as possible, as the vacuum of space makes both the engine and the standard shells useless.
The Polonia will act as a last ditch warship if the crocs catch up again. Their hope is to slam the croc ship as hard as possible at the outset and keep buying time for the science teams to complete their task.
For now, Grey is training new and current boarding team members. Fredericks, Moody, Dumas, Fisher, and Marvoni are simulating Grodurns while the Marines practice the swarming strategy that seems to overwhelm the predatory soldiers and grant the marines access to their regenerators. Once a regenerator is gone, even human weapons can take down the lizards.
Grey would sell his soul for ten more Coulsons. The twins work fluidly in sync, easily baiting their targets so the other can attack. Of course, with the lack of resources and space, the trainees are using brooms as ‘rifles’ so the real weapons can stay ready near the boarding shuttles. So, a bunch of professional soldiers are running drills with brooms yelling “Bang! Bang!”. The Chiefs are acting as judges, and the marines get a one to five rule, where only the fifth consecutive shot hits. Meanwhile, the ‘Grodurns’ get a one hundred percent hit rate. Ironically, these numbers are virtually reversed, with the marines maintaining high accuracy on the alien troopers, and the aliens missing a bulk of their shots.
BUT, Grey would rather torture marines in training to teach them to think and move, rather than get in a basic standoff against living tanks.
Grey watches as Spaceman Long tries to follow the Coulsons. Rena ducks behind a conex box while Mina strafes the other way, firing on the run. Fisher is their target, but he’s already firing at a pair of new recruits. He starts to turn to face Mina and Long directly, and Long stumbles. Mina manages to quickly pull Long to safety, throwing her to the ground. Fisher shouts, “Bang! Bang!” somewhat dryly, finding the broom he’s holding ridiculous.
Grey glances at Tachibana, who calls out, “Coulson! You’re hit!”
Rena pops out from her hiding space, joking, “No I’m not Chief!”
“Can it, Marine!”
Grey calls out, “Thing Three, admirable showmanship.” Mina dramatically yells, joking as she slowly and overtly-dramatically sinks to the ground, “I had one more payment… on my… cell phone… bleuggghhhhh….”
Tachibana snarls, “Marine! Take this seriously!”
Like a switch, Mina obediently calls back as Fisher chuckles, “Yes Sar-uh! Chief!” She lays out lifelessly.
Grey shouts, “Long! A squadmate just gave her life for you! What do you do!?”
“Cry…” taunts one of the bystander recruits who joined with her. “Wanh! Big sis!”
Tachibana is just about to roar, but Grey halts her. Long is losing her grip. He says loudly, “Zone One; Halt exercise.” Fisher relaxes as Grey approaches Long. She leans against the box Mina pushed her behind. Mina sits up curiously. Grey asks calmly, but loudly, “Is he right, Marine?”
Long looks away from him. Grey asks louder, “I SAID; ‘IS HE RIGHT, MARINE’!?”
Long whimpers, “No…”
“LOUDER!”
“NO CHIEF!” she squeaks. She’s certainly not her sister.
Grey booms, “SO WHAT DO YOU DO!?”
“N-No… No marine left behind, Chief…”
“WRONG! YOU SOLVE YOUR DAMN PROBLEM. THERE IS AN EIGHT FOOT TALL, SEVEN HUNDRED POUND KILLING MACHINE TEN FEET AWAY. HE JUST GUNNED DOWN YOUR FRIEND! YOUR SISTER! WHAT. DO. YOU. DO!?”
“I-… I don’t know, Chief! H-He’s… r-r-...”
“WHAT!?”
Long flinches, and Grey leans close to her, shouting, “YOU TELLING ME, WITH A LITERAL KILLING MACHINE SHOOTING AT YOU, YOU CARE WHAT TRASH THINKS!?”
“N-No Chief!”
“THEN WHAT DO YOU DO!?”
“I-I… Ignore him? Chief?”
“IGNORE HIM! KILL HIM! I DON’T CARE! IF HE’S NOT HELPING, SOLVE HIM TOO!”
“I… I…”
“MOVE MARINE! I AIN’T GOING TO BE AROUND FOREVER TO SOLVE YOUR PROBLEMS! ACT! NOW!”
Long squirms in terror, but snap reacts after only a moment. She aims and yells, “Bang!” pointed at the recruit who just taunted her. She yells, “Sh-Shut up or help!”
The recruit retorts, “Like a scared kitten frightens me.”
Grey walks calmly over and asks, “Recruit… Uh…”
“Dinkler, Chief.”
Grey scoffs, “Doesn’t matter. You been shot before, recruit?”
“No Chief.”
“Chief-what?” growls Grey.
The recruit shifts a little uneasily, “Chief Petty Officer?”
“So, recruit. Can you tell me just when the hell a recruit doesn’t snap to attention when being upgraded by a Chief Petty Officer?”
Following his cue, Dinkler snaps crisply to attention, straightening rigidly, “My apologies Chief Petty Officer. I just don’t think Recruit Long should get a pass based on who her sister is.”
Grey nods. “That would be a fair point. My only question to that is, then,” Grey takes a breath and yells directly in Dinkler’s face, “WHO GAVE YOU PERMISSION TO HECKLE MY RECRUITS, RECRUIT!? YOU THINK THIS IS SOME LIBERAL-ASS COLLEGE UNIVERSITY WHERE THE ELITES GET TO PRETEND THEY’RE WOKE PROGRESSIVES WHILE BEING TOXIC SCUMBAGS!?”
Dinkler visibly shakes. Grey yells, “I ASKED YOU A QUESTION RECRUIT!”
“N-NO CHIEF PETTY OFFICER!”
“YOU CALLIN’ ME A LIAR NOW!?”
“N-NO CHIEF! I DON’T THINK IT’S A COLLEGE!”
“DIDN’T RECRUIT LONG SHOOT YOU!?”
“NO CHIEF PETTY OFFICER!”
With blinding ferocity, Grey snatches and pulls Dinkler into a powerful knee into his abdomen, causing the young recruit to cough and groan. Grey releases him, saying dryly and loudly, “You must be hard of hearing, then. Never call a Sar-CHIEF a liar.” Dinkler clutches his gut, groaning piteously.
Grey straightens his uniform, when suddenly a recruit scoffs. Without looking up, Grey asks coldly, “Something funny, Recruit?”
“N-No Chief Petty Officer.”
Grey barks, “All you recruits with too much energy, start doing burpees until I relieve you.”
There’s a pause. Grey snarls, “I need to talk to each one of you!? MOVE, recruits!” The observing recruits drop to start the push up-squat-jumps.
Grey walks back to his spot next to Tachibana, ordering, “Zone One, resume exercise.” Mina giggles as she lays back down, feigning death. Long focuses.
Tachibana says loudly, “Coulson, you’re not quite dead. Cry out for help.”
Mina falls right into character, crying out, “OH THE HUMANITY! My guts! They feel like a chief just knee’d them!”
Fisher laughs, trying to stay in character as he lumbers around Long’s cover the opposite way she ducked. Mina cries out, “Long! Long help me! Please! I… I want to see my wife and kids!”
Long glances at Mina, and then at Grey. Grey yells, “Who the hell you looking at Marine!?”
She flinches, looking back at Mina. She asks, “C-Coulson! Where is it!”
Tachibana states sternly, “You’re delirious!”
Mina stays in character, crying out, “WHAT!? Long, Long I can feel my spleen! I don’t even know what my spleen does!”
Long cautiously peers around her corner. She turns fairly far, still not seeing Fisher. Grey glances at Fisher, about to round the opposite corner to get behind her.
Rena cries out, “Bang Bang Bang! Bang Bang Bang!”
Tachibana reports, “Regenerator hit.” Fisher yelps, stumbling.
Grey smiles when Long glances only once before bolting around the box out of sight of Fisher. She sprints towards the other two recruits. She shows promise. He can certainly work with promise.
Of course, Mina cries out, “Long! Don’t leave me! Please! I have so many more stamps to collect! My goldfish will be lonely!”
Rena calls out, “Chief! Can I shoot her!? You know, mercy killing!”
Tachibana barks, “ABSOLUTELY NOT, MARINE!”
Grey whispers to her, “Lay into Long.”
Tachibana shrieks, “AND LONG! How dare you leave a wounded comrade!? Presumed dead is one thing, but she’s crying out for your help!”
Long’s sprint hitches as she stops short of the ‘low wall’ formed by two overturned carts. Long hesitates. Rena ‘fires’ again, “Bang Bang Bang!” Fisher returns fire from cover, calling, “Bang Bang!”
Grey asks loudly, “Thing four, you hit?”
There’s a pause. “No, Chief?”
Fisher shakes his head. Grey nods and head gestures the other way. Fisher pivots and stalks along the box as Long runs for Mina.
Grey snarls, “The hell you think you’re doing, Long!? You think the alien’s gonna surrender!?”
Long pauses right as she reaches Mina. Grey shouts, “You think you can drag two hundred pounds of Marine fifty yards faster than a croc can walk a box!?”
THAT is what Grey hopes to break in Long; indecisiveness. She could have made either choice initially; save Mina or run. She could have even taken her chances firing on the newly vulnerable enemy. But, she let her own doubts be fueled by two salty old marines yelling at her. The other two recruits will fail based on being almost useless and not moving. He was done yelling at them a while ago.
Just before Long can decide, Fisher whirls, gripping Long by the collar. She screams, barely holding onto her broom. She focuses, though, aiming her pretend weapon and choking out, “B-Bang! Bang Bang! Bang! Bang!”
Tachibana calls out, “Hit! BUT, Crocs can take MANY hits! A Marine’s best bet is blanket fire where possible.” Long squirms, trying to escape Fisher’s grip as he tugs her back.
Both of the other two recruits, Pratt and French, pop up and open fire, both yelling “Bang Bang Bang Bang Bang!” as fast as they can.
Grey and Tachibana sigh. Grey calls, “Hit! Long, you’re dead.” Fisher returns fire on the two marines, yelling “Bang! Bang! Bang Bang!” Pratt manages to duck, but French gets called out by Tachibana, “French! You’re dead.” Mina jokes to Long, “Hey, Long. Come here often?” The young recruit says nothing, solemnly watching. Fisher keeps an eye out, kneeling down to Mina. He unbuckles her boot, and she giggles, “Petty Officer! Now?” He pulls her boot free, watching for Rena.
Fisher smirks. He stands up and lobs it towards Pratt and French. Nothing happens, prompting Tachibana to bark, “WHAT WAS THAT RECRUIT!?”
“I dunno Chief Petty Officer!” calls back Pratt.
“What if it was a grenade!?”
It dawns on the recruit, and he dives forward, scrambling clear of cover. Grey shouts, “You’d leave your brother, Recruit!?”
“Yes Chief Petty Officer!” pants out the young man. Grey chuckles. Points for decisiveness, at least. Grey taunts, “Why are you fleeing from a boot!?”
However, Fisher calls out, “Bang! Bang Bang!” “Pratt you’re hit!” calls out Tachibana.
About that time is when Hancock is walking up. He is passing close to Pratt. Rena calls out, “Marine! Help! My squad’s down! One croc!”
Fisher glances her way. She’s on the other end of his cover now. Once more, Grey gets to smile.
Spaceman Recruit Long sits up in surprise as Hancock, injured still from his real mission, snaps into action, grabbing Pratt’s broom with his right hand and ‘hip-firing’ it at Fisher, “Bang Bang Bang Bang Bang!” He sprints to the other conex box. Fisher recoils into cover. Hancock and Rena make eye contact. Hancock tosses his broom up top from his position and uses the crane anchor points on the box to boost himself up onto the box. He opens fire, “Bang bang bang!” But, Grey notices it. He’s yelling as loudly as he can possibly muster.
Fisher stalks towards Rena’s last known location, but she isn’t there. Hancock can see him, though, and he fires, “Bang bang bang!” Fisher recoils again, jogging quickly back the other way to find Rena. Still no one. It finally dawns on him when he spots Long looking up with amazement.
Grey smirks. Rena even feigned reloading while she was up there, and she ‘empties her magazine’ with a fast, “Ba-ba-ba-ba-ba-” for several long seconds.
Tachibana says proudly, “Good work, Coulson, Hancock.”
Grey approaches Mina and Long as Mina playfully cries, “Baby Sis! You’re my hero!”
“I’M older!” snaps Rena. “Six and a half minutes says so!” She climbs down from her perch. Grey helps Mina to her feet and then offers his hand to Long, but he notices her looking somewhere else. He looks to find Captain Long approaching. The young sister glances up at his hand, and then she says softly, “You don’t have to treat me special, Chief Petty Officer.”
Grey retorts gruffly, “Treating you special would be leaving you down there. Take it.”
She hesitates, but accepts his aid up. He asks calmly, “What’d you do wrong?”
“Panic, I guess…”
He nods. However, before he can add anything else, Captain Long asks quickly, “Jessica? You froze up. Why did you second-guess yourself?”
Jessica looking down is all Grey needs. He was given a job; to make this girl a Marine. And, to do so without favoritism.
Grey bluntly interjects, “Spaceman Long, Captain.”
The older sister looks at him, asking a little crossly, “Beg your pardon?”
Grey straightens up, only intimidated by the imposing and strong aura Captain Long exudes. He replies bluntly, but professionally, “This is a Navy vessel, Captain, and this is a Navy spacer. And, with all due respect, she’s MY trainee. If you wish to undermine me, fire me and then do it.” He kept his voice low to minimize witnesses to what he’s saying.
The captain’s eyes narrow. But, once more, she eases back. He’s not trying to exert undue dominance. He’s ensuring Jessica gets the training she needs without the prejudice imparted by her relations. If she wants to fire him for doing what she wanted -in spirit, anyways- then it’s been a good run. He adds, “You want my squad to do something, Captain, we’ll do it. But, please go through me.”
Long smirks, replying softly, “I’m impressed, Chief. This is the second time you’ve stood up to a superior officer -me specifically- to protect your squad. Please make sure you never cross to the wrong side of the line, Chief.”
He salutes, “Aye, Captain.”
She salutes in return, and all of the others nearby snap to salutes as well. She says more softly to Jessica, “Don’t give up. I’m proud of you. Long.”
Jessica smiles lightly, “Captain Long.”
The captain gestures towards the recruits Grey is still technically upgrading. She states, “Don’t let that become habit either, Chief. My secretary already received a formal complaint.”
Grey nods, “Yes Captain.” As soon as she walks away, he grumbles, “Weasels work fast, don’t they? Fastest he’s probably ever run. And to his mommy.” He scoffs. “And right after accusing you of the same.”
Long stammers softly, “Th-Thank you, Chief.”
“Look, if you don’t want to be here, Long…”
“I-I do! I just… I was scared… you’d tell her I’m… not cut out for it.”
“No one is this early. But, more importantly, I don’t care if you can run ten miles with an 80 pound pack. I don’t care if you can bypass an electronic circuit. I care about whether or not you’ll pick up a rifle, hold onto a rifle, and empty a magazine into these ugly crocs.” He points over his shoulder at Fisher, who whines, “Hey!” He grumbles as Grey turns more sincere, “I could be wearing tacky chief’s anchors on my collar…”
Long looks down, and Grey adds more sternly, “So shape up! That was pitiful! A darn cripple did better than you!”
Hancock says brightly, “Thanks, Chief!”
“Can it, Rookie! I want you to talk, I’ll work you like a sock puppet!”
The young marine slumps. Fisher teases, “Rookie! Your second mistress finally let you go?”
Hancock retorts, “Hilarious, Petty Officer. I don’t mind of course. She just DOESN’T SLEEP!”
The squad chuckles, and Mina jokes, “Mmm, and you keep up with her? Interesting…”
Before he can answer, a voice calls out over the hangar intercom, “Spaceman Rex Hancock, report to Mobile Drydock Providence.”
Hancock chuckles, groaning, “How much science can one woman dooooo!?”
Grey chuckles, “It’ll get better. That little lady’s our best shot.”
Hancock smirks, “She’s already got it. It’s being installed now.”
“Aren’t they going to test it?” asks Rena.
Hancock replies, “Her scale model worked. Or, at least, it shot off into space.”
Fisher remarks dryly, “That’s comforting.”
“I’m just her tool jockey. I can only barely keep up at all.”
Mina giggles, and Tachibana growls, “Coulson…” Mina straightens instantly. “I remembered a joke, Chief!”
“I didn’t ask, Coulson. But, since you offered, why don’t you share?” Tachibana’s typical sultry voice turned absolutely sinister at the end, and Mina blanches briefly.
The quick-thinking Thing Three replies, “Uhhh… Knock-knock?”
Fisher asks when no one else does, “Who’s there?”
Tachibana glares at him, and Mina continues, “Planet.”
There’s another pause, and Grey sighs. “Planet who?”
Coulson grins when the one person Tachibana won’t openly scold plays along. “I didn’t planet to include a punchline.”
Grey states to Hancock, “Rookie. Best not to keep Lopez waiting. Good work jumping into the exercise.”
“Thanks, Chief!”
Mina complains, “HEY! Not even a chuckle?”
Hancock makes his way back the way he came with a chuckle, and Grey retorts to Coulson, “This is my ‘Chief laugh’.” He stares at her silently with a grim expression, and Rena bursts into laughter. Grey looks at the younger marines and recruits standing around him. He asks gruffly, “WHATCHU WANT!? A HUG!? Clean up and get ready for the next exercise!”
Everyone springs straight, including Spaceman Long, and they reply together, “Yes Chief Petty Officer!”
‘Chief.’ ‘Gunnery Sergeant.’ Titles don’t really matter. As long as he gets to train and lead humanity’s spear tip, they can call him whatever the Navy likes.
‘Gunnery Sergeant’ did have a nice ring to it, though.
********