Point of Documentation: Marshall, Phoenix 11

Betty had a lot going for her when it came to the fluidity of her movements. Marshall noted how well he was staying in place as he held onto the remains of the main communication antenna. His grip was less for stabilization and more so just to give his hands something to do as he waited. The other hand was around a pair of binoculars, which he had been given by Robert when he came out here. He used this to scan the area around them like some old-time pirate on a ship water-bound to Terra. Just like in the stories of the old world, he thought.

He was roused from his thoughts by a curse from Cadence. She was a few feet from him, working on a box that held many valuable pieces that made the communications antenna work. It was beyond Marshall, a pilot who had not taken the time to learn how to maintain his vehicle outside deployment hours let alone other vehicles. To him, these machines had their own language and their own biologies that he had zero idea how to treat if sick. That’s why Marshall always had some respect for mechanics who could retrofit, fix, and improve his craft and others between deployments. Cadence was no exception to that.

Besides the fact that the woman took a shot to the shoulder that should have put her on her ass for a week at least, she was up and moving days after her injury. Robert had explained to him that Marshall had brought her back in just enough time that the blood loss wasn’t life threatening. He had gone on about some artery that existed in the arm and how vital it was, but Marshall just absently nodded to what the man had said. Marshall understood the importance of what severing that artery meant, but Robert could genuinely talk blue in the face about simple things and make them complicated. Marshall did not envy the rest of the crew, who had been working with this man for an indeterminate amount of time.

The crux of it was this: she had survived and was kicking. And kicking she was. The first thing she had exclaimed when she came to was if Betty was ok. Marshall was a little hurt that her first worry wasn’t him, the one who had brought her in, or herself who had actually taken the bullet. To her credit, this vehicle was probably like a baby to her, or a precious object. He felt the same about his own fighter. The one currently rotting out in the Wastelands. Alone.

Marshall shook his head to clear the thought. Cadence must have seen, as she immediately yelled at him to stop acting high and mighty and get her a wrench. Marshall clambered down from the communication mast and fished in her toolpak for what she was looking for. After a minute he handed her a wrench and she dived back into the box.

Her voice floated up, muffled, from the box she was leaning into. “This damn thing– ugh– it took a direct hit from whatever the hell it was that you guys were boxing. The Captain said it was a Lance. Those things give off EMPs when they hit or pass close to something. Basically a ‘fuck you’ to anything that has to use circuits and electricity to live.” Cadence’s head came back up with smudges all over her suit’s visor. “The long and short of it is that the mast is basically dead now. All the wires are melted together, the relay is fried, and the entire damn motherboard looks like– Are you listening?”

Marshall admittedly had started to space out as she was talking, but nodded regardless. He had understood most of it, but her nagging was starting to make him lose interest. Her and his drill sergeant could have a sibling resemblance if it came down to that fact alone.

“Well good, because you’re the one who’s going to explain to the Captain that we have no way to communicate long-range anymore. That and, by the looks of it, we’re down to the belly cannon. All the electronics fried on both mounts up here as well.” She gave a sigh and sat back. “We’re lucky that the protectors stopped it from spreading to the rest of the vehicle. Betty is effectively paralyzed from the forehead up now.”

Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

Marshall’s head cocked to the side a little in confusion. It was that damaging and the Captain was so calm about it? Even going so far as to say that he wasn’t worried about it first? He cast aside those thoughts and instead asked something else. “Alright… but it’s still able to get us to the Wall, yes?”

Cadence sighed and stood to gather her things. “Yes, we can still get to the Wall. You’re almost as excited to get there as a child is to see it for the first time. Trust me Outlander, that place is no saving grace.”

“I’m not sure what you mean? Isn’t the Wall the place where Humanity holds the line against the Voidlings and keeps back the corruption? Because if it is, then that’s enough to give me some hope that I can send a message back home when I get there.” He bristled at her words and was a bit confused. Why would she be apprehensive against those that man the Wall?

Cadence shook her head and started back inside. Marshall followed as she spoke. “You’ll see when you get there. It’s not as simple as you make it out to be, and more complicated than I can explain. I’m just a mechanic. Ask the Captain if you want a glimpse.”

They arrived back in the main body of Betty in short order and the two of them started to decontaminate. It mainly involved them being sprayed down at the hatch with some kind of particulate as they stood there. There wasn’t much room, so they had to enter and exit the hatch’s chamber one at a time. Marshall couldn’t even comprehend properly how inefficient this was compared to just making everyone go through a chamber at one point instead and making it larger.

Stepping back in, Cadence removed her suit to show her outfit below. Marshall, however, did not. He continued through to the back of Betty which had been his chambers for the time he was here. He did not make it back there as Robert had stood in his way with a smile on his face. Marshall looked at the large man, having to actually crane his neck up slightly, and expressed confusion. The answer to his pleas was a blanket thrown at his face. “Congratulations Marshall, you get to sleep in an actual cot. No more sick bed for you.” Marshall’s face must have been plain to see, even through the visor, as Robert laughed at him. “The Captain has deemed you cultured enough to be able to bed in the living quarters. Your bunk is above mine, so get settled in and get comfortable.”

Robert gave him a last pat on the shoulder before walking past him to the armory. He gave Cadence a welcome hello only to get a boot thrown at him. Marshall turned before it got more violent and continued to what was to be his bunk. It was a bland thing with no real decoration. He ran his hand across the flat, barely person-size mattress and found no dust and a clean, folded sheet was the only thing under his fingers.

Marshall nodded his head, setting his new binoculars and his pistol on the bed’s item holder. It wasn’t much, but it was large enough for this. He moved the pillow a little up and moved the sheets down to prepare for him to climb in–

He felt a hand on his shoulder and words behind him. “Hey Marsh, you going to bed already? We’ve got the yard to ourselves this time.”

Marshall spun on his heels to see… nothing. He still felt the heat of the hand that laid upon his shoulder, which was impossible through the suit that he wore. It took him a moment, but something finally clicked that he had been suppressing since… since when? Since he had gotten here? Since he had seen the inside of the mech? Since he had been welcomed readily by the miss-matched crew? This place had felt similar and yet wholly foreign to him all at once. The bed must have set it in. This… this felt like he was back in his training bunk. Back with Phoenix and his squadron. His friends.

His hand tightened in what he could only pretend was resolve. He climbed into the bunk, attempting to get comfy for the sleep that would not find him easily, nor unprepared.

They still had a few days to go, and Marshall could feel each of those days drag by longer and longer.