A Web Serial by M.C.A. Hogarth
| 64. Taking Care of Your Own. | 66. The Improbability of Sentience. |
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65. Hunches
"God, Gunny, I feel stupid."
"Ma'am?"
"Look at this." Peaches points at all the footage running concurrently on her monitor. "All these patrols and... nothing. Just those Mark 1 bugs we were killing when I first got here. The guys are tearing them up like cake after all the trouble I went through bleating for relief."
"I'm sure no one blames you for that, ma'am."
"No, but it sure is embarrassing." Peaches rubs her face. "Why the lull now? I swear they're doing it to make me look bad."
Gunny doesn't chuckle but his mouth quirks while the lieutenant's face is down. "I'm sure the crabs will come back as mean as before soon enough."
"But what if they don't? What if that was just a... a failed experiment in new hulls?"
"Then we thank God for His mercy, ma'am, and hope the cakewalk continues."
Peaches glances up at him. "****. I'm sorry, Gunny. That really was out of line. Of course I don't want things to get harder on us. I'm just..."
"Under a great deal of pressure managing the new situation, ma'am."
She blinks, then laughs. "Yeah. That. Go on, I'm sure you have better things to do right now than listen to me whine."
After he's left, Peaches puts her chin on her palm and frowns at the footage, watching it loop.
We need... a montage. Team Kitty patrolling the Warren. A scowling Fang eyeing a dead crab while someone teases her about making a cheek shot instead of a head shot. Fang2 doing endless stretches wearing a bored expression, then doing endless exercises with weights, also wearing a bored expression. More patrols. A week passes.
Testing Facility.
Fang2, drawing the word out. "************, when am I going to be ****ing done with this stupid physical therapy?"
Claws. "When the doc says you are." He squints at a wall-monitor that's showing power consumption curves in real-time. "Let's try that again."
Spots. " Okay." She grabs his wrist and pulls him in; they both crouch, facing opposite directions but lined up rather than back-to-back. Blue shield and gold merge overhead into shimmering green.
Claws. "Is that me or is it hoggin' less juice?"
Fang2. "Ooh, me, me, I can answer that!" As Claws and Spots both look at him, he throws himself on top of the shield bubble. "WhoooOOOOoooo! That tickles!"
Claws. "Fang2, you freakin' moron! We had no idea what that would have done to bare skin!"
Fang2. "Now we do. Hey, look at that."
Claws glances at the monitor. "Huh."
Spots. "Here, I'll turn mine off." She does. Claws's shield immediately starts drawing more power.
Claws. "How about that. So it's worthwhile to bolster someone else's shield."
Spots. "I didn't know that! Interesting."
Fang2, still plastered to the shield. "This feels great. Like a ****ing massage."
Claws. "A ****ing massage is a little more than just a massage, you know."
Spots. "Actually, I think that's illegal." They both look at her. "You know. Sex and a massage. You're only allowed to pay for one, the other's illegal. So if you get both... " They're still staring at her. She throws up her hands. "You know, if you have to explain the joke it really doesn't work very well."
They both laugh.
Fang2. "You two are gonna have some nasty surprises for the crabs if they come back."
Spots. "They will."
Fang2. "All the talk in Sickbay's about how the super-crabs are all gone and maybe were never here at all. They say they're here because Peaches was PMSing and needed the new LT to hold her hand."
Spots. "They really said that??"
Fang2. "Well, no, but you can tell they're thinking it. It's been too easy in the Warren."
Spots, frowning. "They've only been here a few weeks."
Fang2. "Yeah, a few weeks of nothing special."
Spots. "Do they really doubt we needed the help?"
Fang2. "I don't think they doubt it... that's the problem. 'Cause things sure don't look very hard right now. Makes us look like—"
Claws. "Back up a sec. Did you say... a few... weeks?"
Fang2, puzzled. "Yeah? That's how long they've been here?"
Claws, frowning. "A few weeks."
Spots. "Claws...?"
Claws, shaking himself. "Ain't nothing. Let's get back to work. That means you too, princess."
Fang2. "You mean me, right?" He twirls (badly). "I'm a pretty Asian princess!"
Spots. "You get all the credit for starting this one."
Claws snorts. "Back on the mat, Chao. Spots... once more, with feelin'."
They resume practice. When it's over, they separate at the Door: Fang2 heads to Sickbay to log his exercises; Spots heads for the Barracks to shower.
Claws... doubles-back and heads for the Fiddler's Room.
| 64. Taking Care of Your Own. | 66. The Improbability of Sentience. |
|---|
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