Spots: Bars of Soap

A Web Serial by M.C.A. Hogarth

45. Live or Dead.	47. Veteran's Day, with Bugs.

46. Bars of Soap

Armory as Spots, Claws and Samuel-Colt enter.

Spots. "We're the first ones here!"

Samuel-Colt. "We will check the data on your suits first, if that is acceptable. The new shield data should be valuable."

Spots. "Go ahead."

Claws, taking down one of the power cells. "Hey, Sam... how do you make sure a crab is dead, anyway?"

Spots. "I assume you shoot it with the guns you keep telling me I need practice with."

Claws. "Man, you are never gonna let me forget that, are you."

Spots. "Nope.

Samuel-Colt. "Your escort asks a valid question, Mother. The answer is not a simple one."

Spots. "It's not? But we shoot them and they go down. Or explode, depending on the round."

Samuel-Colt. "The soldier class, perhaps. Different classes have different nervous systems. For example, Kings commonly have two neural nodes, a brain and a nexus at the base of the thorax. This second node handles music and scent, so it retains memories related to those senses. In order to neutralize the King you must destroy both nodes."

Claws. "****! You mean all this time we've been leavin' them mostly not-dead?"

Samuel-Colt. "The Kings do die if you damage them, Mother's Escort. But it isn't immediate. If you are asking how to keep their memories from being used by the enemy, then these are nuances you need to understand."

Claws. "****! And the normal bugs?"

Samuel-Colt. "As far as we know, a head shot should be sufficient."

Claws. "But not the body shots we usually use to mow 'em down."

Samuel-Colt bows a regretful note.

Claws. "****.****! Do you know how much harder that's gonna make our jobs?" Sockets the power cells into his suit. "****! Also, I've probably earned six bars of soap cussin' about this. **—crap!"

Spots makes no comment, but her mouth is quirking. The door opens for Scythe, who halts at the scene.

Spots, pulling her suit on. "Hi, Sergeant. Have you met Samuel-Colt?"

Scythe. "I... haven't had the pleasure."

Spots. "Samuel-Colt, this is Scythe, our sergeant. Scythe, Samuel-Colt, the designer. He's downloading suit data for evaluation."

Samuel-Colt, melody with flourish. "We are glad to make your acquaintance."

Scythe, a little off-balance, but taking it in stride. "Likewise." He takes down his suit. "You two are early."

Claws. "Bonny Peaches called us down to have a look at a crab corpse, tryin' to figure out how come they're sendin' us their dregs."

Scythe. "And?"

Claws. "Sam thinks it's cuz they're preparin' to sic some super-crabs on us. All at once."

Scythe. "****ing wonderful."

Samuel-Colt to Spots, with rising arpeggio. "Do you make the Scythe eat bars of soap also?"

Scythe. "Make me what?"

Spots, laughing. "No, no, if every Marine on this base had to wash out their mouths every time they cursed in front of me, we'd be out of soap in a day."

Claws, muttering. "In an hour."

Scythe. "A few minutes, I think."

They're all laughing, Samuel-Colt's a springing melody, when the rest of the team enters with the Varmint guests.

Silence.

Claws. "So, you got your data, Sam?"

Samuel-Colt, no music. "Yes. Thank you." He inclines his body to Spots. "Mother."

Spots. "Samuel-Colt. Rest well."

The alien exits. Another silence. Then the team resumes suiting up.

[ Buddy-to-Buddy ] [ Claws ] : If they give us trouble...

[ Buddy-to-Buddy ] [ Spots ] : They won't. Turn around so I can do your check.

45. Live or Dead.	47. Veteran's Day, with Bugs.