Spots: Conversations

A Web Serial by M.C.A. Hogarth

40. Entrapment.	42. Objectifying.

41. Conversations

Peaches and the squad investigate the other trap, which works the same way as the first, then resume their patrol duty. They find isolated bands of crabs; no major incursions. They dispatch them and return to base for shift-change.

The armory is unusually silent as the squad and its Varmint guests un-suit and the incoming Wild Dogs start hooking up. Some of the Dogs glance at the Kitties but no one asks.

Team Kitty Common Room.

Fang. "What the **** was that?"

Scythe. "Just go to bed, Fang."

Fang. "No, really. I want to know. Why the **** were they giving us grief?"

Spots. "Don't look at me. I'm just doing the job the lieutenant asked me to do."

Fang. "I'm not talking about that. I want to know why they're giving us **** about it. What did we ever do to the ****ing Varmints?"

There is a surprised pause, since this is the first time Fang's talked about "us." As if she's a part of the team.

Claws. "Uh... "

Spots. "They're just tense and tired, like the rest of us. I'm sure it was just blowing off steam."

Scythe. "Good answer. And now, sack time."

Hairball, nonplussed. "Cards first."

Whiskers. "I'm in."

Fang. "Huh, me too."

Scythe, hesitates. "****. Fine, I'll play."

Hairball, without looking up from shuffling. "**** the crabs, anyway."

Whiskers. "You two in?"

Spots. "I'm going to go see Fang2... then talk to Samuel-Colt, as commanded."

Claws. "Guess I'm with her, then."

Whiskers. "Your loss." Eyes Hairball. "Or maybe you're just being smart, I don't know yet."

Hairball. "Not my fault the rest of you suck at this game."

Fang. "****! We'll see about that."

Scythe chuckles.

###

Officer's Armory. Peaches is stripping off her gloves when Gunny enters.

Peaches. "You were watching the footage?"

Gunny. "Yes, ma'am. Those are interesting additions the engineers made."

Peaches. "Maybe too interesting. I guess we'll have to see how they work, though I'm all fresh out of ideas what to do with a trapped crab, besides kill it."

Gunny. "Actually, that sounds like a fine plan, ma'am."

Peaches snorts. "More importantly, were you listening?"

Gunny. "To what, ma'am?"

Peaches. "You know what I mean, Gunny. The squad."

Gunny. "Ma'am, officers aren't supposed to be listening to—"

Peaches. "But every single one I've ever talked to does. Or the ones worth their salt, anyway. So yeah, I was listening... were you?"

Gunny nods once, mouth tight.

Peaches. "You think they took care of it?"

Gunny. "As well as they could, anyway. You know how Marines feel about aliens."

Peaches. "Yeah. But we kind of have to be able to make the distinction between "alien giving us technology that we'd be dead without" and "alien trying to kill us" before we point our guns." She sighs. "Do you think I need to step in?"

Gunny. "Not yet. Let the non-coms handle it for now, ma'am. If it gets bad, they'll bring it to you."

Peaches. "You hope they'll bring it to me."

Gunny, wry. "Yes, ma'am. I hope."

Peaches rises to strip out of the rest of the suit. "Just enough crabs out there so the men could say 'goody, the LT got some target practice, now she can go home.' A lot fewer than I was expecting. Do you think they're waiting for something?"

Gunny, with emphasis. "Ma'am, I hope not."

40. Entrapment.	42. Objectifying.